Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire or Game of Thrones. Everything belongs to George R.R Martin.

Chapter XXI - Red Waste

Daeron POV

Even after a day, I am still shocked at the dragons. There are three of them, many thought they were dead for several years, but here they are. One, in particular, has grown attached to me. The orange and gold one. Dragons and their riders had a special connection that none could share, though in this case, Daenerys being the one who hatched them had a special connection with the dragons. I only have a special connection with the orange and gold one. The Dragons were a blessing from the Lord of Light. Daeron believed in Rh'llor, after all, growing up in the Free Cities, they were one of the most popular religions in the Free Cities.

"He likes you," Daenerys chuckled.

"Ow," I winced when the gold digged its talons into my chest, leaving scars.

"A bit too much." Daenerys chuckled, as she sat on the makeshift bed with the green and blue one. The black dragon had bonded with Daenerys. When I tried to hold him, he would bite my hand and scurry to Daenerys. As for the green one, it was indecisive. Mainly goes for whoever has food, scratches his back, or soft enough to cuddle, which was mostly Daenerys because she was their mother. Doreah, Irri and Jhiqui had braided Daenerys' hair, insisting that now she is a Khaleesi, she has to dress like one So Daenerys' silver hair had a tiny bell on them, to symbolize her status at defeating the Witch and surviving through the flames.

"What do you know about dragons?" Daenerys asked.

"Complex creatures," I answered, trying to remember from a book that Ser Jorah gave. "Currently their mind is like dogs until bonding with a person who holds Valyrian blood, a descendant of a Dragonlord or one of the Fourty Families of Old Valyria. Our ancestors would place dragon eggs on Targaryen newborns and see if a dragon hatch. If they do, they are dragon riders. But the dragons choose the rider, not the other way around."

"What do they eat?" She asked with wonder as Drogon was on her shoulder.

"Meat," I answered, remembering what Viserys told me once. "Fresh meat, preferably from their kills. At least that is what the books say."

"And they can be as big as Balerion?"

"I don't know. It's been over a hundred and fifty years since the world has last seen a dragon. The longer they live, the bigger they get. But without freedom, they remain small and sickly. The Dance of Dragons was the extinction of the Westerosi dragons. The doom of Valyria killed the East, and evil men killed the rest and Aegon III's paranoia also killed the babies."

My sister nodded as she petted the black dragon, "What should we name them?"

"Our ancestors named the dragons after the Valyrian gods, for instance, Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes, Syrax, some dragons were named after their scales, for instance Sunfyre, Dreamfyre...except for the wild dragons, The Cannibal, Sheepstealer, and Grey Wind," I said.

The black dragon nuzzles Daenerys neck, she petted it's back making it purr, "I think I'll call him Drogon."

"After Drogo," I noted.

Daenerys nodded sadly, she changed the subject, "What about yours?"

I looked at the gold and orange dragon and tried to think of a name. It looked at me, tilting its head, maybe after my mother.

"Elianna," I named him. The gold and orange dragon did resemble our mother a bit, with the scales which were the colors of House Martell and the eyes were dark, a similar shade like my mother's. "After our mother."

"Agreed," Daenerys said with a smile. Our eyes turned to the green dragon who was snoozing on a pillow. A bit of smoke coming out of his nostrils. We chuckled, for it was odd to compare the dragon to a cat.

"What about this one?" I asked.

"Rhaegal, after our father." Daenerys stated and I nodded.

"Your Grace, Khaleesi!" Ser Jorah called outside.

"Come," Daenerys said. The exiled knight entered the tent seeing us with the dragons. His blue eyes were filled with awe. A man who was once a cynic has witnessed two siblings who can't be harmed by fire and the birth of three dragons.

"What is it, Ser Jorah?" I asked. He snapped out of his daze and looked at us.

"Our riders returned, the North, west, and east are too dangerous to travel. The Lhazeen have heard of the raids and are preparing to kill us. The Dothraki, if they see us, would enslave and or kill us. And the Bayasabhad is not suitable for the Khalasar."

"But I am a Khaleesi," Daenerys said.

"They will spare you to become a member of the Dosh Khaleen. But Daeron and the others shall be enslaved." Ser Jorah said.

"You mention Asshai," I brought up.

"That is southeast, your grace," he said. "If it were the three of us, we could travel quickly around the trails. However, I don't think the Khalasar will make it."

"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked.

"We would have to travel through the Red Waste," he answered. "There is a lake halfway through it, but these lands are barren. Only the sand people know how to survive."

It was a hard decision. The east was mountains, with death. Meanwhile, the lands we have traveled through of Lhazar and the Dothraki sea are dangerous with people who wanted to kill us, because of Drogo's campaign or rivalry. The South was our only option, but as Ser Jorah said, it's a barren desert. The choice belongs to Daenerys since this was her Khalasar.

"How far is the nearest watering hole?" Daenerys asked.

"Two days from here," Ser Jorah answered. "Afterwards, none for many miles unless you seek the one in the Red Waste."

Daenerys sighed, having no choice, she chose south. Hoping we can run into the Sand people and lead us the way to the trails towards a port city. Nothing further to discuss, we got the Khalasar ready for travel. I helped pack her tent, though sadness filled her eyes from memories of Drogo. Daenerys hugged me and her head rested on my chest and she sobbed.

"You are young," I murmured. "You will find love again."

"I don't think I can," she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I spoke to the witch once more, and she told me that she cursed me," She explained. "She told me that I'm barren. No longer able to have children."

"Dany, she is not a reliable source," I told her. "She is no maester."

My sister nodded, and soon we finished packing and put the dragons in their cages for the time being.

It was a long two days when we reached the watering hole supplying as much water as possible before our long journey through the Red Waste. Some members of the Khalasar left, holding superstition about the desert. In the end, we continue walking in hopes to find somewhere safe.

oOoOo

And I thought the Dothraki Sea was hot or Lhazar. I was utterly mistaken, as we travel through the Red Waste. All around it was nothing but flat, barren lands of sand. The sun is hovering over us like the fires from the Seven Hells. Far hotter than the hottest day in Volantis three summers ago. The air was dry, the ground was warm, the sun blazing, and fatigue grew heavy. I took off my shirt when I travelled, using it only to wipe my sweat. For the entire time, my body, my chest was gleaming with sweat, I decided to put my shirt back on incase if there was sunburn. My skin noticeably got a bit tan.

We've been traveling for weeks since the last watering hole and resources we could find. But as we traveled far south, more khalasar members died. It would be a week before reaching the lake that Ser Jorah mentioned. Many days, we travel by the lake receiving as much water as possible. When we camp, Ser Jorah continued his lessons with the swords. It was a struggle, due to the environment, but Ser Jorah informed me that it's best to adapt instead of relying on one source.

So, we trained, still with the defensive maneuvers until he thought I was ready to learn one offense attacks. Afterward, we would return to camp and recover. By the time the lake came to an end, we gathered as much water as we could, and continued onward south. We were losing hope when a comet soars through the sky. One with a red tail.

I walked beside Daenerys with Doreah beside us. I hardly talked to her, not because she was Viserys' mistress, but we hardly connect in conversation. Still, the woman has done so much for Daenerys, especially how to be a good lover. I try not to imagine what transpired between the two.

Anyway, Dragon was on Daenerys's shoulder as she tried to offer him a piece of meat. The black dragon refused, being stubborn as ever. Out of the three dragons, Drogon was the most stubborn of them all. Rhaegal can be picky, while Elianna seems to be the only one who is compliant, just like their namesake.

"What did your uncle say about them, Khaleesi?" Doreah asked as she stared at the dragons in wonder.

"He said they ate meat," Daenerys answered.

"He didn't tell you what kind of meat?" Doreah continued.

Daenerys shook her head, "Viserys didn't know anything about dragons, no one does."

"He didn't know anything about anything," I muttered. Daenerys stopped the carriage that held the cages and placed Dragon inside. Elianna gave a hiss thinking he had to go in. I rubbed his neck, and continued walking. If the legends are true about dragons growing faster when free, then it's best Elianna was out. Only at night, when I go to sleep does he go in the cage. I took a bit of raw meat and tried to offer it to Elianna. The gold dragon sniffed it, and wrinkle its nose in disgust.

Sometimes the dragons would munch on a bit of cooked meat, but in the end, it wasn't enough. One-time Daenerys tried to nurse them since her body was dealing with post pregnancy. It worked for several days, but the predators needed meat. If there were some mice maybe. We haven't seen any living thing roaming about.

A whining of a horse could be heard. Looking up, we saw the white horse collapse onto the ground. Ser Jorah and Aggo, were there by the horse checking its condition. Daenerys rushed over, as did I. Her eyes watered, as she petted the horse. Another victim to sunstroke.

"She was Drogo's first gift to me," Daenerys mumbled.

"I remember," I said.

"I promised to protect them. Promised them their enemies would die screaming. How do I make starvation scream?" She asked us.

"A trick I never learned, I'm afraid," Ser Jorah confessed.

"Does it ever end?" she asked.

"This is further east than I've ever been. But, yes, Khaleesi, everything ends, even the Red Waste," Ser Jorah answered.

"And you're sure there is no other way?" She asked. "If we go Southwest to the land of the Lhazareen the Lamb Men will kill us and take your dragons. If we go Northwest to the Dothraki Sea, the first Khalasar we meet will kill us and take your dragons." He answered.

"No one will take our dragons," She promised.

"They are too weak to fight, as are your people," I told her, gesturing to the small khalasar. "You must be their strength."

Daenerys looked at me, "As you are mine."

Afterward, she called in her Khas, "Rakharo, Aggo, Kovarro. Take our remaining horses. You will ride east, you southeast, and you northeast."

"What do we seek, Khaleesi?" Rakharo asked.

"Cities, living or dead. Caravans and people. River or lakes or the great salt sea," Daenerys answered. "Find how far the Red Waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side."

The men nodded as they got the horses ready. In the meantime, the camp was being set up to form tents. Not as grand as before, but enough to provide shade to reduce the heat. Daenerys went over to Rakharo giving her blessing before he went east. In the meantime, the rest of the Khalasar waited. It was too hot to exhort energy to train, so I sat on a boulder and used a dagger to practice on my grip, which I did when I'm bored.

Elianna, curled around my neck nuzzling it. Licking off the sweat, I shudder from the texture of his tongue then chuckle. Some of the khalasar children came over, looking awed at the dragon. They asked if they could pet him, but I told them not too. Not wanting to risk them getting bitten or severely scratched. A while later, they returned to their parents. In order to avoid any hunger, we had Daenerys' horse to be killed and cooked, and everything got a fair portion, even the dragons who grew larger by eating them.

"You have your way with children," Ser Jorah complimented as he came over with a canteen.

"I guess so," I sighed. "Was it a mistake going south?" I asked him.

"It was the only choice we had," he answered. "Even if we made it through Lhazar and entered the country of Yunkai or Meereen, we would still be dealing with slaves. They may pardon you, Daenerys, but the rest of the us will be taken. Slaver's Bay they call the area."

"Have you been there?"

"Not in a very long time. One I do not wish to go there again." I nodded. I looked up, staring at the comet that soars overhead. There is a meaning behind every comet. The books once mention that a comet can be a sign of good fortune, an omen, or the return of magic. All depends on the color, and red can be questionable.

oOoOo

Days go by as the heat worsens. Everyone took shelter in the tents or by the rocky ravine praying the khas return with news. I sat next to Daenerys, who was close to falling unconscious head nearly resting on my shoulder. Elianna resting on my lap nuzzling against my stomach. Ser Jorah sat across from us, looking ahead to keeping watch. He pulled out his canteen and took a small sip of water. He appeared weather-worn, the dehydration making him look older than he already was.

It was strange how loyal he is to us. Most of our lives, men have taken advantage of my family for favors since being in exile. The true loyal knight being Ser Willem. So, seeing another loyal knight, traveling with us, protecting Daenerys and I was strange. He killed a bloodrider, he stopped a poisoning attempt, broke traditions of a swordsman to train me, and mentor us. There were many chances he had in abandoning us for his own survival. And yet he stayed by our side. The exiled knight's head shot up and looked at the horizon. Something was approaching, as the sounds of hooves were noted.

"Khaleesi, your grace." Daenerys is woken up seeing a horse arriving. Something was wrong, it was Kovarro's horse, as the saddle and blankets were the same. But the dark horse was covered in red paint and missing its rider. Ser Jorah stood up and walked over to expect it. The knight noticed a satchel on the side. He cautiously opened it, to what he saw made him frown, partially pulling out something then put it back, then took what appears to be braided hair. Daenerys and I stood up walking over.

I was the first to ask, "What is it?"

"You don't want to know," Ser Jorah advised.

"He's blood of my blood," Daenerys said, walking over and saw the content in the bag. Our eyes widened when we saw Kovarro's head. "Who did this?"

"Khal Pono, perhaps. Khal Jhaqo," Ser Jorah guessed. "They don't like the idea of a woman leading a Khalasar."

"They will like it far less when I am done with them," Daenerys threatened. Jhiqui walked over. Oh no, Daenerys told me that Jhiqui and Kovarro had a Dothraki courtship, just like Rhakaro and Irri did. The handmaiden saw the blood and gasped before sobbing. She fell to her knees, weeping for her love.

"They killed his soul!" Jhiqui wailed.

Daenerys comforted her handmaiden, cradling her cheek, "Shh. They cannot kill his soul."

"They did!" Jhiqui wept. "They butcher him like an animal. They did not burn his body. He can never join his ancestors in the night lands."

My sister knelt, embracing her handmaiden, "Shh. We will build him a funeral pyre." She glances at Ser Jorah and I, before cradling Jhiqui, who was comforted by Irri and Doreah, looking into her eyes. "And I promise you, Kovarro will ride with his ancestors tonight and also ride with us."

Jhiqui sobbed, embracing her Khaleesi. Later that night we built a funeral pyre for Kovarro following Dothraki tradition. Providing more offerings, and supplies to appease the Great Stallion to accept the fallen Ko. Daenerys called him her Ko in her speech as the elders did the prayer. Jhiqui was given a torch, as she said farewell to her lover. Afterward, the night was silent, and the Red Waste claimed another soul.

I became more concerned as time kept passing. The longer we wait, the faster our provisions are fading. Water decreases in large quantities, not because of consumption, but the heat evaporating it. Either we start moving, or we will die here. Ser Jorah agreed; however, we could not abandon the Khalasar and Rhakaro, and Aggo hadn't returned. The following day Aggo returned, sadly all he found were barren mountains. There was no source of food, water, or civilizations. Daenerys worried, leaving Rhakaro our only hope of survival.

We stayed here for a long time, I didn't know how long but then Rhakaro returned with a different horse. He came with a huge canteen of water and offered it to all of us. I drank the water, never thought that water would taste this good, but I knew I was thirsty.

"That is not your horse." I noted.

"It was given to me by the Thirteen. The Elders of the Qarth." Rhakaro said happily.

"Qarth?" Daenerys asked and my brows furled. I had never heard of this place before. We all knew the Seven Kingdoms in Westeros, but Essos was a divided nation with wars often happening between each city.

"Will they welcome us?" I asked.

"Yes." Rhakaro said.

"Why?" Daenerys asked, I scowled, Qarth wanted to welcome us, it's fine, we have been thirsty and the Khalasar needs to rest, no need to be curious.

"They heard about the Mother of Dragons and the Dornish Dragon." Rhakaro said.

"Qarth is it." I said and Daenerys nodded.

I know in the TV Series Rhakaro died and it was Irri who cried. But in the books, Rhakaro survived. Besides, both Irri and Rhakaro would be very important in this fanfic later.