Chapter Twelve

He watched the boy closely; the Khaleesi made her bed next to him and Jorah pointed the boy towards the pallet she had abandoned; within moments he had curled into the cloak and fallen asleep. Jorah lay propped on his side for awhile watching the shadows dance through the camp, the boy wasn't a threat and was little more than skin and bone; but there could be others with him.

That the dragons camped near them was reassuring, any fight they went into he expected to be out manned; but not overpowered. Eventually he did sleep again, waking in the early light of dawn, the Khaleesi had curled into his side and Jorah hated to move her but gently he did and as she stirred, he soothed her. "I am going hunting, sleep a little longer."

She murmured sleepily and curled into the space he had abandoned, Jorah paused just a moment, unable to resist the urge to smooth long blonde hair back from her cheek. And then he stood, glancing to the child who snored softly and back to the dragons. He needed to get food, but he would not go too far.

It was easy to follow the boy's tracks back to the water; he filled the canteens then set about catching rabbits. He built a fire and cleaned the meat for them, throwing the others into the fire to cook for the dragons; his eyes drifted back to the child.

The boy was dirty and beat up, life had been rough on him for a while, but someone had made the clothes he wore with care, he wore a chain of good metal around his neck and he slept soundly; as though he felt safe. Jorah had half expected him to be gone in the morning, along with anything he could steal.

But the boy was here and when offered a rabbit fell upon it as though he were starving; why seek them out? He approached them with the innocence of a child, many men would have cowered, gnashed their teeth with hate but even fierce warriors would think twice about approaching the dragons. Did he believe they searched for the same thing?

"What is your name?" Jorah asked in Dothraki as he sat on one end of the pallet; the Khaleesi sat beside him.

"Nahyan." The boy replied with a full mouth, barely pausing between bites.

"What is the city of bones?" He continued, seeing the boy gulp to clear his mouth.

"It holds the magic of my people. Once beasts of war crossed the great sky and fell upon the plains, they built a circle of stone and lived peaceably in it for many generations." The boy paused, looking longingly at his food, but continued. "Then more came, they battled in smoke and flame, but all they left behind were bones. The grass cannot claim that land and no man has ever taken it."

Nahyan had spoken with the awe of a child repeating a story he had heard many times; but Jorah knew somewhere in that story there was some truth. "Why do you want to go there?"

"I must. The sons of every khal must." The boy's voice dropped to a whisper. "Or I can never go home."

Jorah nodded, and the boy resumed eating, so the people here lived under a similar structure to the Dothraki. Only rather than raid to prove their strength and bravery these people must follow the men who were brave enough to venture to the city of their legends. He wondered how long this boy had been on his pilgrimage.

The child stared in awe as the Khaleesi reached into the hot coals and pulled out the rabbits, taking them back to where the dragons waited as he loaded and balanced their pack. "Where is your city of bones?"

"The river flows from it to the sea." The boy told him, eyes still on the dragons who were preparing to take flight now.

"Then we will follow the river, given we didn't see it before we will have to do it from the ground." The Khaleesi returned to them as the dragons lifted off, they would likely go to hunt for themselves now; a few rabbits would do nothing to satisfy their appetites.

…

Jorah led as they followed the river, she stayed close to his side and the boy followed them; he would do a better job keeping up if he could pull his eyes from the dragons that circled above them. They moved for most of the day, Daenerys did not want to complain, she knew Jorah would likely move much faster alone even though he carried his armour as well as the pack with their belongings.

But he kept to her pace and remained attentive to her needs, offering her water and rest often; she took the water and continued moving. That night when the dragons cleared a place for camp she made two pallets while he hunted, and silently piled the stalks near one; Daenerys knew better than to try twisting the stalks herself.

That night she slept beside him again and her dreams did not come, at least not the terrifying ones. Instead she drifted through a sea, walking over a land untouched by man, yet men came. Not to build, not to steal or destroy; they would not dare. Daenerys hated to leave it when morning came, but Jorah had rose some time ago and he was back in the camp now; he looked at her knowingly.

"You were dreaming." He murmured, his eyes shifting to the boy who still slept soundly on the other side of the fire. She nodded, but frowned slightly, it had not been a nightmare this time. Yet she noticed he rubbed the mark on his chest often that morning, was there more to that dream that she should have noticed?

However, as they continued that day, she saw Jorah's hand shift more often too his sword, along the edges of the water there were bones, some baked white by the sun while others had tall stalks of grass growing through them. Nahyan stayed much closer to them today, how many boys had journeyed as he did only to lose their lives along this river?

Suddenly they heard cries, pounding hooves and Daenerys spun, looking for the source as Jorah drew his sword. They came from upriver, two men, their bodies covered in marks made of red clay, their curved weapons raised. Jorah shoved the pack from his shoulders, tossing it to the riverbank before wading deeper into the water.

"Go!" He ordered. "Stay out of sight until it is done."

She swallowed hard but stumbled into the tall grass, Nahyan tried to help as he scrambled for cover too. Daenerys stopped and dropped to her knees on the bank, watching between the stalks as the horses closed on him. Jorah didn't flinch, he held his sword at the ready and let the first rider get close, that sharp blade spinning before it took aim for his chest.

But the knight ducked at the last second, only the blade of his sword remained raised. And it hooked the weaker weapon as Jorah pulled the rider into the water; running him through. Before the second rider could reach him, a dark shadow passed above them, the rider's torso disappeared as huge talons wrapped around it and the man screamed as he was lifted from his horse.

A foot clipped Jorah's head as the man struggled uselessly against Drogon's grip, her son easily crushed his opponent but did not drop him. And as Rhaegal swooped down, grabbing hold of the man Jorah had dispatched Daenerys rose. "No!"

"Khaleesi." Her knight's tired voice soothed as the dragons soared higher, tossing the carcasses into the air to burn them. "They are dragons."

She knew that, she knew those men would likely have killed them all given half a chance; and her dragons were hungry. Their instincts could not be changed, were they in another place where the dragons had the food they needed, they likely would have left the bodies be; in the wars they had not tried that with the fallen.

"They deserved to die." A quiet voice whispered from her side. "They were Zoken."

"What are Zoken?" She asked, trying to pronounce the word correctly, his accent was different from the Dothraki and she struggled to understand some of his words; but she had never heard that one.

"An outlaw." Jorah murmured.

"They are the son's of khals, they chose evil. They do not return from the city of bones, but guard it away from those who seek it. Killing those who bring sacrifices for healing, stealing the gifts for themselves, and those of us who are true to our blood." Nahyan said darkly, he had watched the dragons consume the men; the fear in his eyes gone.

She saw Jorah's eyes harden, and she knew there would likely be more than two men who chose greed over blood; not every boy who did not return to his village died out here. But they waited while Jorah managed to catch the horses, helping her onto one and Nahyan onto the other. He walked beside her horse, his eyes constantly moving as they continued upriver.

By the time they made camp again the river was wider and deeper, Daenerys knew they were nearing the source. That night the dragons cleared only a small space and settled, when Jorah started to extend it Drogon roared at him; that night they slept on small pallets with the dragons folded around them. And Nahyan curled between them, Drogon did not know the boy and kept trying to get into his space, Daenerys had to put her hand on the dragon's snout more than once to stop her son from being unruly; keeping the boy close to her. But the dream came again.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing this story; I really appreciate the feedback :).