The sun rose in the east, as it was wont to do, and the Khalasar rose with it.

With his bride obtained, there was no good reason for the Dothraki to remain in the land of the walkers, and many, Müje among them, were eager to return to the Great Grass Sea. He had grown tired of the lands of the Free Cities, and yearned for the day they would reach Vaes Dothrak. It had been some time since he had last seen his grandmother, and he would not mind the detour.

So, with that in mind, Müje rose from his bed, donned upon him his clothing for the day, and exited his tent, taking the reins of his steed and guiding it through the dismantling camp. Weaving through the many downed tents and the throngs of people, Dothraki, servants, or otherwise, the khalakka made his way towards his betrothed's tent, and smiled when he saw Daenerys departing it, handmaidens close behind.

"Davra aena, Daenerys," he greeted, and the Targaryen blinked the last vestiges of sleep away before responding with a small smile of her own. "Good morning, Müje… I take it we are to leave, today?"

When he nodded, Daenerys' smile turned somewhat wistful, and she turned her gaze in the direction of Pentos. "...I am sad to leave this place," she admitted, to Müje surprise. Not that she was sad, no, he understood that, but of the fact that his bride-to-be was speaking to him of it.

It takes two to make a marriage work. It seemed as if his betrothed had decided to be the first to attempt to make it so, and the thought heartened him.

"I am sorry to take you from here," he told her truthfully. "I understand that Pentos has been a place of refuge for you after time, has it not? I can imagine why you are hesitant to leave."

Daenerys's gaze turned back to him for a moment, and she he inclined her head in acknowledgement. "I am sad, yes, but… at the same time, I'm… curious? To see what is in store for me, I mean. I expected to marry a brutish horselord, but you are…"

She trailed off then, staring, seemingly searching for something in him, though Müje did not know what that could possibly be. Then his betrothed shook her head, as if ridding herself of a thought. "...You are not what I expected, Müje. It is- you are… nice."

Müje stared at the Targaryen princess for a moment, who seemed slightly mortified, before he averted his eyes in... embarrassment? Joy? A combination of the two, perhaps.

That had not been something he had expected to hear in the morning.

Yet… it seemed as if Daenerys meant it.

...Yes, he thought, even as he thanked and Daenerys for the compliment and returned it with one of his own (while simultaneously thanking the Great Stallion that his coppery skin and the rising sun hid its embarrassed flush), I think we can make this work.

Rarely before her betrothal to the Dothraki prince had Daenerys ever ridden a horse by herself, and for a large part of her life, she had been fleeing from one place to another to frequently to learn.

That was beginning to change, and she, to her surprise, was finding that she quite liked riding. It was not the greatest thing in the world, but it was rather enjoyable.

Besides her, Rhaemarr, the silver stallion her husband-to-be had gifted her, snorted, and she smiled, grabbing a handful of oats from a saddlebag she'd been given and offering them to the horse, who accepted them with a quiet neigh.

When she was done feeding her horse, she turned to her new handmaidens, who were waiting nearby conversing with each other. While Daenerys appreciated the gift her… goodfather? had given her (and Viserys as well, to her surprise- she had not thought that the Khal would go out of his way to give a gift to someone he disliked), she had no idea how to address them.

So, for the nonce, she had decided to call them by name, and that is what she did. "Irri? Jhiqui? Can you come assist me? I know not how to do up Rhaemarr's saddle..."

In a mere moment, both Dothraki handmaidens were with her and teaching her how to rig the saddle, and Daenerys felt a smile slip onto her face.

She had not lied to Müje when she had said that this was nice. That he was nice. Irri and Jhiqui were understanding and patient with her, given her complete lack of understanding the Dothraki tongue,not to mention it was refreshing to have women around her age to talk to. And though she knew the horselords were still brutish in their own ways, from what she had read and heard, the ones under Khal Drogo seemed almost… refined, in a way. His Bloodriders and warriors even seemed to wear armor, though not like the mail-and-plate Ser Jorah wore, but of an odd sort she had never seen before- overlapping squares of iron or steel sewn to leather, helms plumed with horse-tail… Daenerys wondered where all that armor had been when the Dothraki had first arrived to Pentos, for they had not worn in during their stay.

In truth, Khal Drogo's Khalasar seemed to defy much of what she heard of the steppe hordes, though she had little doubt that there were others in the Dothraki Sea that conformed to what the Free Cities knew them to be.

Daenerys did not mind the differences, not really. She might have called herself content with her lot, then, were it not for her brother.

Though she had not seen him since his exiting of the Khal's tent, she had little doubt that he would seek her out to remind her of why she was to marry Müje in the first place. Though the prospect of a loveless marriage slowly seemed to be fading away (and she had thanked the gods the night before for granting her a husband that seemed to care), the reason for that marriage was not. They needed an army, and Drogo had it.

Her time in the Dothraki Sea would be a temporary one, for once she was wedded and bedded, Viserys would no doubt demand the Khal keep to his end of the bargain, and from what she had seen, Khal Drogo was a man of his word, oddly enough, though first impressions were not everything, she knew. Too many times had Daenerys made that mistake during her younger days.

If I look back, I am lost.

Daenerys would prefer it if she never had to think about those days, those that had come after the house with the red door. Those days were behind her. Soon we will have the Seven Kingdoms once more.

Pushing the thoughts aside and shaking her head, Daenerys emerged from her thoughts and going that, to her surprise, the Khalasar was all-but ready to depart. Her own handmaidens had packed their things, and her own sat on various horses or wagons.

Then, from somewhere further east, a honor sounded, and the Khalasar began to move.

"Come, khalakki," Irri called. "Your place is at the head of the Khalasar."

Daenerys blinked. "Why is that?" she asked, and her two handmaidens shot each other a look that the Targaryen girl had learned last night to interpret as "silly Andal" before Jhiqui replied.

"You are khalakki," the Dothraki girl told her simply. "You ride with the khalakka, and the Khal of Khals, should he bid it. It is known."

"It is know," Irri repeated, and Daenerys fought the urge to role her eyes, for she certainly had not know in the slightest.

Then she paused.

...Why am I questioning this? All this would grant her was a day to ride alongside her betrothed, to get to learn about him and know him. She had already admitted that she did not mind, so why dally? They would be wed at Vaes Dothrak regardless of their knowledge of one another.

Not to mention, it would keep her away from Viserys for a while longer.

And just like that, the Targaryen princess suddenly found herself looking forward to the day's prospects.

So, pulling herself up onto her saddle, Daenerys nodded to her handmaidens. "Let us go find my betrothed," she told them, before taking one last look in the direction of Pentos.

Then she turned and nudged Rhaemarr's flank forwards, and off they went.

A/N: I swear this is somehow turning into a romance story when all I wanted was to write about discount-Mongols. How.

Anyways, like always, feel free to leave a like and subscri- I mean a fav and review. Yeah. Definitely that.

Until next time, everyone.