Sister's Keeper

Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

Languages:

Common Tongue

Valyrian

Dothraki

Chapter 42: The Dragons Divided

I must confess, I get bored easily. Before my conquest, I could find entertainment in books, sewing, and other things a lady would do. Now that I am in recovery, it's hard to do something when I am required not to lay on my back, and my left arm being in a sling. Usually, the medicine, mainly milk of the poppy, puts me to sleep. However, my thoughts linger in the sorrows that have transpired.

So many people are dead, innocent people, thanks to the Sons of the Harpy. The Daznak pit was filled with free Meereenese citizens, those who were born free, and those liberated. Freemen, poor, rich, Master, and Great Masters being slaughter by cowards behind golden masks. I have a feeling the majority of the Meereenese had no part in supporting the Sons of the Harpy. There must be a third party. The reason why I believe this is so is that when the swarming of the Harpies entered the pit, many were not wearing Master or Meereenese robes. There were a lot of men wearing slaved clothes, including collars. Slaves would never wear the rags they wore before they were liberated. Along with that, all the collars have been destroyed. Especially from the reports of the collecting the bodies, to either get their funeral rights or burned…many were not Ghiscari origin.

Mercenaries who wear slaves clothing to stir trouble. Mercenaries who were hired to disrupt the balance between the freemen and the pure Meereenese. Yunkai comes to mind in funding these attacks, as the Wise Masters tried before in resisting my rule. There could be another suspect of it being a Free City who supports slavery. Either way, my enemies are growing, and I am vulnerable. They already have the lead by killing Hizdahr zo Loraq. At first, Daario suspected Hizdahr was the leader of the Sons of the Harpy since the rioting and ambushing stopped when we made the announcement of our engagement. But seeing three Harpies killing Hizdahr, calling him a traitor showed us differently. I don't know how the ancient family of zo Loraq is doing. Hizdahr was Miraz's only son. Miraz does have a nephew who will now be the new leader…but when a child dies before the parents…it can be heartbreaking.

Then came Jorah. The man I love was given a death sentence that no one can pardon. Greyscale. He contracted greyscale when kidnapping Tyrion to give him to me. The knight knew of my hate towards the Lannisters for what the Lions did to my family. What Tywin Lannister did in sacking King's Landing and giving the order to kill Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon. As for Jaime Lannister, he broke his oath and murdered my father. Jorah knew that and brought Tyrion to me in hopes of a pardon and be by my side again. And in doing so got infected by an incurable contagious disease. I blame myself since I banished him. If I didn't banish him, he would not be dying ever so slowly. Physically he will live a few more years as a Stone Man, but mentally his mind will subdue to that of an animal. Every time I think of it, my eyes would water and I would silently cry.

His last act of serving me is finding Daenerys and bringing her home.

It has been a week since Jorah and Daario left. My sister is out there with a dragon who is not adequately trained. She has a mark on her head by most of the Lhazareen who were not enslaved in Slaver's Bay since Drogo was collecting slaves for his campaign to sail to Westeros. As for the Dothraki…she challenged their customs when Drogo fell off his horse. One of the Dothraki Khal's killed Rakharo expressing his distaste for a woman running a Khalasar. Let alone, if she is taken by a Dothraki horde and announces she was the wife of Khal Drogo, they will take her to Vaes Dothrak to be part of the Dosh Khaleen. Or…they could enslave her. I fear the latter wondering what the Khals will do to a Khaleesi who doesn't obey to their masculine authority.

So much is happening that I need to do something. However, not in the condition that I am. I can't train, I can't read, I can't do anything other than think and sleep. And since the medicine is drowning my mind, I am unable to get Visenya's guidance.

The doors open as Ser Barristan came in with a frown. I was sitting on the bed as a Blue Grace was examining my arm. Something was not right, because when Ser Barristan frowns it means three things. One is that he doesn't approve of something, two he received terrible news, or three something bad has happened.

"What is it?" I asked, then hissed when the Blue Grace added fresh paste on my left arm.

"Your Grace, Tyrion Lannister has invited Varys into the Pyramid." Ser Barristan answered.

"The Spider?" I asked to be sure.

Ser Barristan nodded. Tyrion did mention before, that Varys was the one who convinced him to leave Pentos to come here to meet me. This was complicated since Varys is the one who spied on my siblings when we were in exile. Told Robert Baratheon our secrets. The messenger that let assassins come hunting for us, and the fuel that lead to Rhaego and Drogo's untimely deaths. Tyrion said Varys did what he did in order to survive. Stating the Eunuch is about the realm, he does not serve a house.

I tried to remember Varys when I was three. I recalled a bald man, a bit rounded, with tan skin and dark eyes. He spoke soothingly, in a riddle type way when entering Mhaegors tower, when he would talk with my Mother, whispering information in her ear. He also would smile at me, and sneak me candies, after a Septa took a sample to be sure it was not poison. Candied plums. Now I want to know why he is here.

"Small Council meeting, I want to see the Spider," I said.

"You should rest," Ser Barristan advised.

"Either we have the Small Council meeting here in my chambers or in my study. Which do you prefer the Spider to enter?" I countered.

I don't mean to sound harsh. The pain was getting to me, as the wounds were slightly inflamed as if my skin was burning. Being unable to do something while my Small Council takes control was tormenting me. It's clear I have a problem with control. Spending my life being obedient to Viserys and other wealthy families who always want something in return. The moment I feel independence and control, it's hard to submit again. When the Masters asked for concessions, I felt the chains forming around me, weighing me down. Now, I do have people that I trust…it's just…I feel restrained because of these wounds.

Once the Blue Grace was done treating me, Missandei helped me into some comfortable robes and into my study. I sat down by my desk, as Missandei stood next to me observant. Not a moment too soon, Ser Barristan and Grey Worm escorted Tyrion and Varys into the study holding an oriental box. The Master of Whisperers has aged since the last I saw him, yet his composure remains the same.

Varys gave a bow, "Queen Alysanne, have you grown marvelous since the last I saw you. I can see your Mother's beauty."

"You served my father, didn't you, Lord Varys?" I asked, ignoring the compliment.

"I did," he answered, a bit stumbled that I went straight to the point.

"And then you served the man who overthrew him," I said.

"I had a choice, Your Grace – serve Robert Baratheon or face the headman's axe."

"But you didn't serve him long. You turned against him."

Varys paused looking at me, "Robert was an improvement on your father, to be sure. There have been few rulers in history as cruel as the Mad King. Robert was neither mad nor cruel. He simply had no interest in being king."

"So, you took it upon yourself to find a better one?" I asked.

"Your Grace," Tyrion entered the conversation. "When I was ready to drink myself into a small coffin, Lord Varys told me about a queen in the east who –"

"Before I came to power, you favored my brother," I interrupted. I have the Spy Master who is an enigma, one with the resources to find truth and spill lies. I need to be sure I have someone I can trust. I've been betrayed too many times and don't want an enemy in my council. "All your spies, your little birds, did they tell you Viserys was cruel, stupid, and weak? Would those qualities have made for a good king in your learned opinion?"

"Until your sisters' marriage to Khal Drogo, Your Grace, I knew nothing about you girls, save your existence and that you both were said to beautiful," Varys said.

"So, you and your friends allowed me to be raped and abused, trade my sweet sister like a prized horse to the Dothraki." I accused.

"Which you girls turned to your advantage," Varys said.

"Who gave the order to kill Daenerys?" I asked.

The room grew intense. It's time to know the truth with all the assassination attempts on my family, and I went through during our exile. The years of fear, wondering if I was going to die in bed or drink something that contained poison.

"King Robert," Varys answered.

"Who hired the assassins?" I asked, standing up. "Who sent word to Essos to murder the Targaryen sisters?"

"Your Grace, I did what had to be done to—"

"To keep yourself alive," I finished, walking around the desk.

"Lord Varys has proven himself a loyal servant," Tyrion defended.

"Proven himself loyal? Quite the opposite," I countered, glaring at the Spider. "If he dislikes one monarch, he conspires to crown the next one. He's a Kingmaker, just like Jon Arryn. What kind of servant is that?"

"The kind the realm needs," Varys said seriously. "Incompetence should not be rewarded with blind loyalty. As long as I have my eyes, I'll use them. I wasn't born into a great house. I came from nothing. I was sold as a slave and carved up as an offering. When I was a child, I lived in alleys, gutters, abandoned houses. You wish to know where my true loyalties lie? Not with any king or queen, but with the people. The people who suffer under despots and prosper under just rule. The people whose hearts you aim to win. If you demand blind allegiance, I respect your wishes. You can behead me, or your dragons can devour me. But if you let me live, I will serve you well. I will dedicate myself to seeing you on the Iron Throne because I choose you. Because I know the people have no better chance than you."

He stared deeply into my eyes, hazel orbs telling the truth, even if his face cannot express it.

"Swear this to me, Varys," I said walking over to him, ignoring the pain until standing in front up to him. "If you ever think I'm failing the people, you won't conspire behind my back. You'll look me in the eye as you have done today, and you'll tell me how I'm failing them.

Varys nodded and looked me in the eye, "I swear it, my queen."

Knowing this man is good at manipulating people, I added one more promise, "And I swear this – if you ever betray my family or me, I'll put you to the sword myself."

Varys smiled, "I would expect nothing less from Rhaegar's sister."

I nodded then glanced at the box the Eunuch was holding.

"Ah, a gift from Magister Illyrio," Varys said. "He still hasn't forgotten about you."

"And what gift is that?" I asked.

"You have to open it and see," Varys answered.

"No, set it on the table, and you open it," I said.

Last time someone gave me a concealed gift, it contained a manticore. Varys obliged, as he set the oriental box on the desk, and lifted the lids. Grey Worm and Ser Barristan grabbed their daggers just in case anything poisonous jumps out. The Spider put his hands in and picked up the object that was inside. It was a crown. My eyes widen, for I haven't seen that crown since I was fifteen years old. When I sold it to a rich Lord? Queen Rhaella's crown. It was silver, as the intricate designs resembled scales and dragon tails woven about. At the front were three gems, as the center was a large ruby while on the sides were two small amethyst. It wasn't the royal crown Mother would wear for special occasions. No, it was the one she wore during travels or outside the Castle.

"When Illyrio Mopatis heard that you were continuing your campaign for Westeros, he went through great lengths in searching for Queen Rhaella's crown. He hopes this brings good favors when the time is right, Your Grace." Varys explained.

I came over and carefully held it with my right hand. So many memories of Mother wearing it, instead of her diadem. My eyes water, though I looked down so my hair can cover my face. Ser Barristan noticed this and told everyone to leave. Varys, Tyrion, and Grey Worm obliged, while Missandei stood where she was since she was tending my physical needs.

"Your Grace," Ser Barristan spoke.

"I thought I would never see this again," I whispered, the tears starting to fall. "It broke my heart when I had to sell it. The one regret I made that ruined me."

"Alysanne," Ser Barristan murmured resting his hand on my right shoulder. "You did what you thought was best for you and your siblings. Queen Rhaella would've understood. She loved her children dearly and would have done the same if she were alive at the time."

A sob escaped, "I miss her."

Carefully Ser Barristan wrapped his arm around me, one a father would give. "Let's get you back to bed."

I nodded, knowing I need to heal. Not caring if I was presenting myself as weak right now. A lot has been taken from me, and I am only holding on by a mere thread.

.o0o.

The Dwarf and the Eunuch.

The next day, Tyrion and Varys wandered through the streets of Meereen. Varys was cautious, after meeting the Queen and seeing her injuries and received word from his birds on what happened. He felt being inside the pyramid would be safe. Tyrion, on the other hand, thought differently. Thinking it's best to get out and get some fresh air. Get a better look at what is going on. Sadly, as they stroll through the streets, they see abandon wagons destroyed.

"We're never going to fix what's wrong with this city from the top of an eight-hundred-foot pyramid," Tyrion said, as a Meereenese walked by which made Varys cautious. "We'll be fine. We're dressed like common merchants."

Varys stared at Tyrion shaking his head, "You walk like a rich person."

"You've spent a lot of time studying the way rich people walk?" Tyrion asked.

"You walk as though the paving stones were your personal property," Varys said then chortled. "I used to steal from people like you when I was a boy."

"It's a good thing you're not a boy anymore." Tyrion murmured. "Because you have no cock."

Varys rolled his eyes.

They walked down a ramp until seeing a mother on the side of the road comforting her starving baby. Tyrion came over, pulling out a gold honor offering it to the woman. Sadly, his Valyrian being terrible, scared the woman thinking the dwarf wanted to buy the baby and eat him. Varys rushed in.

"She thinks you want to eat her baby," Varys chastised, before becoming calm addressing the woman. "His Valyrian is terrible. He only wants to give you money so your baby could eat."

Varys took the coin from Tyrion and offered it to the mother. The woman nervous, accepted the coin and thanked them. Tyrion gave a somewhat smile, although he made a mental note to practice on his Valyrian. He can understand the language; it's forming the actual words to say it was difficult, even though there are only two-thousand words in the language. They continue to walk through the streets when coming up to graffiti on the wall, written in common tongue. Kill the Masters, and Mhysa is a Master stained the sandstone.

"Mhysa means mother in Old Ghiscari," Varys translated.

"I know what mhysa means," Tyrion said.

"Who wrote it?" Varys asked.

"Hard to know," Tyrion answered. "Our queen is not as popular in Meereen as she used to be."

"The Sons of the Harpy?" Varys guessed.

"Very possibly," Tyrion assumed. "The Targaryen Sisters took away their most valuable property, told them human beings weren't even property to begin with. You can see why they're unhappy. Of course, it could also be the freed men."

They enter a square finding some of the freed men surrounding a Red Priest of the R'hllor religion. The Red Priest stood on a wagon facing the crowd, as he spoke the scriptures and prayers.

"For the night is dark and full of terror…The Lord of Light sent the Dragon Sisters to you, and those who love the darkness injured one and chased the other away."

"Many of the former slaves feels that Daenerys has abandoned them. Meanwhile, others think Alysanne is dead or dying," Tyrion murmured to Varys.

"She did fly away on a dragon and not come back," Varys reminded.

"How will you respond?" the priest asked the crowd. "Will you wring your hands, while you wait for the mother to heal? Or will you take up her flames yourselves? Will you fight for your own salvation, now that Queen Alysanne is healing, not able to fight for you?"

"It's a problem," Tyrion muttered as they walked by.

The Small Council was keeping Alysanne's condition a secret. If the Sons of the Harpy knew she was recovering very well, then they will attack again. If they think she is dying, then they will not strike until after the funeral. Now adding a fanatic religious group into the mix, it may cause a disturbance.

"Fear has brought Meereen to a standstill," Tyrion noted once they were out of the hearing from the religious service. "Whoever you are, wherever you go, someone in this city wants to murder you. We can't fight an enemy we don't know."

"The Sons of the Harpy planned their attack in the fighting pits very carefully, which means they take orders from someone. Already the Small Council confirmed that mercenaries are being paid to aid them, someone with fortune." Varys informed.

"And have you started looking for that someone?" Tyrion asked. He stopped for he thought he smelt something was burning. He tried to figure out someone was burning debris or trash. Either way, the smell was prominent.

"My little birds have already taken wing," Varys said. "Soon they'll return, singing songs of men in gold masks."

Suddenly shouting could be heard. The men looked up to the sky seeing grey and black smoke. Not a second later people were running from the alley that leads to the docks. The word fire was being shouted, followed by the bells ringing. The two went to investigate, rushing to the docks, finding the Meereenese navy being burned down along with other trade ships.

"Well, we won't be sailing to Westeros anytime soon," Tyrion said, baffled by this.

More bad news for the Queen.

.o0o.

Jorah's POV

The two sellswords rode their horses, galloping through the hills that enters into the Dothraki Sea. They came across a few shepherds who informed them that they have spotted a black dragon ten days ago and pointed at the direction where it took off. After a few hours, they came across a burned patch surrounded by animal carcasses. Jorah got off his horse and handed the reins to Daario as he went over to inspect it.

Jorah picked up a skull and noted it to be ram. Getting a better look, he found that one of the horns of the rams' skull was melted. In all his life, he knows cooking game on fire could not melt a horn. Only two sources of fire can do that, one in the earth during a volcanic eruption, or by dragon fire. Recalling the times when the dragons would grab sheep and goats and seeing their horns crack and melt.

"Goat?" Daario asked.

"Ram," Jorah answered.

"You think our friend got him?" Daario asked.

"Don't know anything else that can melt a ram's horn," Jorah answered, as he continues to examine the skull.

"We're on the right path then," Daario said.

Jorah nodded dropping the skull and got back on his horse. The two continue to ride seeing the rivers a few miles ahead. Assuming Daenerys would have been thirsty, she would go to the nearest source of running water. It was what she was taught when living among the Dothraki.

"Perhaps she's tired of being a princess," Daario started a conversation. "I don't think she's likes it very much."

"She's too smart to like it," Jorah said.

"Maybe she's flown somewhere else, somewhere far away from men like us," Daario guessed.

"I've been all over the world. There's no escaping men like us," Jorah replied.

"There's no escaping those two, eh?" Daario said.

Jorah gave him a look.

"You keep coming back. Why?" Daario asked.

"You know why," Jorah muttered.

"Isn't it frustrating wanting someone who doesn't want you back?"

Jorah would disagree. He knows Alysanne wants him back. Confessing how she felt when he told her he loves her the second time. Only they can never be together. Not while he was infected with greyscale. It only takes one touch, and his lover would be infected. Jorah would rather die, than risk Alysanne's health.

"Of course, it is," Jorah lied, looking up ahead. He leaned over slightly for he thought he saw something shimmer in the grass.

"You're a romantic. I admire that," Daario noted. "Sometimes I look at you and think, 'So that's what I'll be like when I grow old.""

"If you grow old," Jorah countered.

"If I grow old," Daario agreed. "I hope I do. I want to see what the world looks like when the Dragon Sisters are done conquering it."

"So do I," Jorah sighed.

Jorah winced slightly feeling more of the tightness in his arm and what he could describe as numbness happening at the same time. He let Daario ride ahead, before loosening the bracer and rolling up his sleeve to see that the greyscale has spread. Now the pigment in his skin losing color and turning grey. Jorah knew he needed to hurry in finding Daenerys. Before he dies, he will make sure the sisters are reunited.

"Aren't coming?" Daario called out. "Or are you that saddle sore?"

Jorah muttered something under his breath as he fixed his sleeve and bracer before storming forward. They continue to ride onward when they reached an open field near the mountains. However, something was off. The ground was disturbed forming a gigantic ring. Jorah scowled for he knows what it was.

"Huh, an army?" Daario asked.

"Not an army. A horde," Jorah answered, trotting his horse over to the center of the ring.

"Dothraki?" Daario guessed.

Once there, he got off his horse to inspect the ring. This tactic of a horde forming a circle is used when an army spots a person of value. Trapping people inside, so they are unable to escape. Reaching the center, Jorah inspected the grass until finding a ring with two pearls. Recalling that Alysanne wore a ring just like that, and reminded of what the Khaleesi was wearing, of a white dress, silver dragon necklace, and the pearl rings, confirms that Daenerys was here.

"They have her," Jorah said.

The knight knew that if Daenerys tells the Khal of the horde that she is the widow of Khal Drogo, they'd know what to do with her. He has seen it before, when traveling with Khal Drogo, several blood riders were escorting a widow Khaleesi. Out of customs, Khal Drogo stopped his Khalasar and helped in the escort for the Khaleesi to Vaes Dothrak, so she could be a member of the Dosh Khaleen. Now they know where they will be heading too.

.o0o.

Daenerys's POV

The Mother of Dragons walked tiredly through the dry valley with the horde. Her hands tied together as two blood riders rode beside to ensure she doesn't escape. Dust of wind blew dirt in the air causing the dragoness to narrow her eyes. One of the Dothraki name Qhono snapped his whip striking her in the back. She gasped, standing up straight and glared at them as they continued on, she learned the two were Aggo (not the one of her khalasar) and Qhono. The two Dothraki chuckled at her. She shook her head looking ahead.

"Maybe she saw a ghost," Qhono guessed.

"My friend's mother saw a ghost, and her hair turned white. Pink people are afraid of the sun. It burns their skin." Aggo said. "This one stands too long in the sun, and her hair goes white."

"You think she's got white pussy hair too?" Qhono asked. "You ever been with a girl with white pussy hair?"

"Only when I was fucking your grandma." Aggo joked.

Qhono chuckled and noticed Daenerys was looking at them. He made kissing gestured, "I'll ask Khal Moro for a night with you. What do you think?"

"She has pretty eyes, but she's an idiot," Aggo said.

"She doesn't have to be smart to get fucked in the ass," Qhono reminded.

Daenerys looked away and shuddered in disgust.

"I like to talk when I'm finished. Otherwise, we might as well be dogs." Aggo said.

By the afternoon the horde made camp by a watering hole. Daenerys was set on a matt near the stream and was told to wait. She looked around seeing any familiar landmarks except everything was different. All around the grassed appeared to be the same color as the sand, except for particular spouts of green. She recalled Drogo stating when winter comes in the Dothraki Sea, the green dies, and the land falls asleep.

After a while Aggo and Qhono returned, dragging her to the canopy where Khal Moro resigned with his two wives and the rest of the Blood Riders.

"For you, my Khal," Aggo said, presenting Daenerys to the leader. "The white-hair girl we found in the hills."

Daenerys stood there glaring at Khal Moro. Seeing the Dothraki staring at her with much interest.

"Look at those lips, blood of my blood," another blood rider murmured.

"Purple-eyed women are witches," The first wife said.

"It is known," the second wife agreed.

"Cut off her head, before she casts a spell on you," The first wife advised.

"Even if I were blind, I'd hear my wives say, 'Cut off her head,'" Khal Moro said, as he stood up walking around her like a predator. "And I know this woman is beautiful. I'm glad I'm not blind. Seeing a beautiful woman naked for the first time, what is better than that."

"Killing another Khal," the first blood rider said.

Khal Moro nodded in agreement, "Yes, killing another khal."

"Conquering a city and taking her people as slaves, and taking her idols back to Vaes Dothrak," The second blood rider said sharpening his dagger.

"Breaking a wild horse, forcing it to submit to your will," the first blood rider added.

This annoyed Khal Moro for that was not where he was going, "Seeing a beautiful woman naked for the first time is among the five best things in life."

The blood rider chuckled and nodded. Khal Moro reached forward grabbing the top of her dress. Daenerys broke her silence, for she will not be raped in the open. She may have accepted her late husband in making love beneath the stars out in the open. But she will not be taken as a slave.

"Do not touch me," Daenerys snapped. This caught everyone's attention since it was rare for an outsider to know their language. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Princess of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, and Mother of Dragon. Sister of Queen Alysanne Targaryen, Dragoness of the West, Queen of Meereen, Leader of the Unsullied."

Khal Moro stared at her until bursting in laughter. Soon the blood riders joined in as well. Daenerys was surprised, for the Dragon Sisters conquest has been known throughout Central and Western side of Essos. They should know who she was. And yet they laugh at her as if she was some naïve child.

Khal Moro placed a hand on her neck bringing her close, "You are nobody, Princess of Nothing, slave of Khal Moro. Tonight, I will lie with you, and if the Great Stallion is kind, you will give me a son. Do you understand?"

"I will not lie with you," Daenerys murmured. "And I will bear no children, for you, or anyone else. Not until the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east."

"I told you she was a witch. Cut off her head," the first wife advised.

"I like her. She has spirit," Khal Moro said.

"I was wife to Khal Drogo, son of Khal Bharbo," Daenerys said.

This made Khal Moro and let go of her. By law, no man can sexually touch a widow of a fallen Khal.

"Khal Drogo is dead," Khal Moro said, to be sure.

"I know," Daenerys confirmed sadness of her mistake. "I burnt his body."

"Forgive me, I did not know. It was forbidden to lie with a Khal's widow. No one will touch you," Khal Moro promised, drawing his dagger cutting the ropes. "You have my word."

Daenerys nodded as she rubbed her wrist. "If you will escort me back to Meereen, I will see that your Khalasar is given a thousand horses, as a sign of my gratitude."

"When a Khal dies, there is only one place for his Khaleesi," Khal Moro said, sitting back down next to his wives.

The first wife smirked, "Vaes Dothrak. The temple of the Dosh Khaleen."

The second wife smiled, "To live out her days with the widows of dead khals. It is known."

"It is known," the first wife agreed.

Daenerys eyes widened for she had forgotten about that. She can't be a Dosh Khaleen. She was the Princess of House Targaryen, she needed to get back to Meereen to help her sister. She doesn't know if her sister was alive or not. Or the state of the Unsullied, Ser Barristan, Ser Jorah, Daario, Tyrion, and Missandei. If they were alive or injured, or worse dead. Remembering that the Dothraki are devout to their tradition…she was a prisoner.

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