Sister's Keeper
Edited By xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
A/N: Chapter rated M for mild sexual content and language
Chapter 46: Khalar Vezhven
Jorah's POV
The Exiled Knight felt the following symptoms of Greyscale coming to him. The fatigue and tiredness as his left arm started to feel heavy and numb. Already the disease has consumed his left arm, in a tinted grey, while the first stage of calcifying cracked his skin like the compact desert lands. He was still able to move his arm and had feeling in his left hand; however, he knows time was running out. The weeks through Dothraki Sea wastelands. As the realization came that it was Khalar Vezhven, the time where all the Khalazars gather together and the Khals go over plans in which regions they shall reign, cities to pillage, and who is on resting terms. Therefore, Daario and Jorah had to travel around many Khalazars without being spotted.
They were outside Vaes Dothrak, climbing the mountains to get a better view of the city. Sadly, the Greyscale was consuming all of Jorah's energy. It was making him feel like an old man, instead of the shape he was usually in. Before Greyscale, he climbed with ease, but now there are moments he had to stop to catch his breath. Daario walked ahead, then turned around seeing Jorah hunched over a boulder.
"You all right?" Daario asked. "Why don't you sit and catch your breath?"
Jorah took a deep breath and forced himself up, before joining him, "I'm fine."
Daario scuffed, "I don't think you could ride the dragon. Twenty years ago, maybe."
"What?" Jorah panted.
"The Dragon Sister, Daenerys is wild. I assume Alysanne is the same. Don't let their size fool you." Daario explained. "It's hard enough for me, and I'm a young man." He pointed to Jorah. "You…I don't think your heart could take it."
Jorah was not in the mood to discuss his sex life, especially his intimacy with Alysanne. One thing he learned about sex, is that it should never be rushed or about endurance. It's about skills and knowing the body. A man can find his release with ease, but for a woman, it's complex to learn and find their sweet spots that bring them ecstasy. Yes, Jorah will admit Alysanne has endurance, being young and a Valyrian descendant, but she is not highly sexual as Daenerys. Alysanne is more towards the emotional intimacy than physical.
So, he rolled his eyes and started walking.
"Must make you angry that they chose me," Daario murmured.
"Makes me sad," Jorah sighed. "You'll disappoint Daenerys before long. She'll move on."
He knows Alysanne never slept with Daario. One thing for sure is that the Queen doesn't go for cocky bastards. Let alone take men who slept with her sister. Also, the matter that the girls will need to have political marriages once they sail for Westeros as much as it breaks Jorah's heart to think of his love in the arms of another. If he didn't have Greyscale, he wonders in time she would have taken him back. Maybe he was a romantic, all he ever wanted was a special partner to share his life with. When Alysanne stated she would not follow tradition, he believed her. Thinking there was a chance for him. But as the campaign grew dire, and alliances demanding marriage…the realization came. Also, he doesn't believe Daario will have the same capability to Drogo, Daenerys loved her first husband…and Daario was more of a mistress.
"We'll all disappoint them before long," Daario said.
"We need each other right now," Jorah scolded, turning to face the sellsword. "After we're done needing each other …"
Daario lifted his hands in defense, "I don't want to fight you, Jorah the Andal. What do I have to gain? If I win, I'm the shit who killed an old man. If I lose, I'm the shit who was killed by an old man."
"You didn't get much discipline as a child, did you?" Jorah concluded.
"None," Daario confirmed, sarcastically.
Jorah shook his head. He grew up on discipline. By his father, his mother, his aunt Maege, Maester, and Bear Islands Master of Arms. Never was abused, but got many smacks up against the head, spank, and loss of privileges growing up if he was ever disrespectful or got in trouble. Even was put on guard duty in the middle of the coldest night when he ran his mouth at age thirteen. At least Jorah got a chance to see a clear starry night and thought he saw a shooting star.
Anyway, he led the way to a spot where they can scout the city. On the very stop, they laid on their stomach, trying not to be caught. Winter has indeed arrived for the Dothraki Sea, as the greenery has gone into hibernation. Jorah told the locations to the Tyroshi Sellsword.
"The road running through the Horse Gate, they call the Godsway," Jorah informed, pointing at the city. "Eastern Market, Western Market. When Khal Drogo died, she was supposed to come here and join the Dosh Khaleen, the widows of the dead khals." He glanced at Daario. "That's where they'll have taken her." Then pointed to the temple that was in the middle of the city. "The Temple of the Dosh Khaleen."
He stood up, trying to find a hiding spot to hide his sword. He found a good shrubbery, easy to conceal his weapons. So, he started to unfasten his belt.
"What are you doing?" Daario asked.
"It's forbidden to carry weapons in the sacred city," Jorah answered.
"Isn't it forbidden to sneak into their city and steal their Khaleesi?" Daario asked.
"If they spot us and we're unarmed, we'll say we're traders heading for the Western Market," Jorah explained, as he wrapped the belt around the scabbard. "But if they see weapons…"
Daario started stripping his arakh, "You're asking a dog to hand over his teeth."
"There's 100,000 of them down there. We can't fight our way out. We wait till dark, and then we'll find her." Jorah said, hiding his sword in the bush.
Daario handed over his arakh and joined it with the broadsword. He then noticed Daario trying to hide the stiletto behind his back. Jorah raised a brow having his hand out silently telling Daario to hand it over. Like a parent telling a child to hand over the toy before bed. The Tyroshi fiddled with his favorite dagger, delaying the process.
"I'm very attached to this knife," Daario said. He kissed the handle in shape of a woman, on the buttocks.
Jorah flexed his hand silently telling him to hand it over. Daario was about to do so when he looked at Westerosi Knight's sleeve. The fabric was torn above the bracer revealing the greyscale. Jorah adjusted his shirt tucking it inside the bracer.
"Don't worry. It didn't touch you," Jorah assured cautiously.
Daario nodded, "You know what happens?"
"I know what happens," Jorah said.
"I'll do it myself," Daario said.
Jorah nodded walking away staring at Vaes Dothrak and then to his arm. He had succumbed to the disease, he accepted his inevitable death. Knowing he will do a mercy kill before the disease plagues his mind into that of a Stoneman. Before he does so, he will make sure Daenerys is returned to her sister. It's the last thing he can do for Alysanne. Not having the girl being the last Targaryen in the world and have what remaining family she has left by her side.
.o0o.
By nightfall, they enter the city, keeping to the shadows and alleyways. A celebration was happening, as all the khalasars mingled in the main streets. Dothraki Screamers were seeking game in women in their runting ritual. Some even searching for wives. Jorah and Daario crept through one, seeing several Dothraki having a go at it, open in the streets. Some in the traditional method of being taken from behind, while others still standing, pinning the woman to the wall and thrusting inside her.
"I should have been born a Dothraki," Daario murmured.
Jorah couldn't help but snort. Once having the same thought when he was welcomed to Drogo's tribe. Getting back on track, the Knight lead the way through the city, stopping now and then when hearing people crossing by. Usually, a few wanderers returning to their temporary homes having enough for the night. Heavily drunk that they hardly noticed the two foreigners.
Unfortunately, they came across Aggo and his friend Iggo.
"My friends…" Jorah greeted slightly out of breath. "We wandered off from the Western Market and got lost. Could you show us the way back?"
"What do you sell?" Aggo asked.
"Wine. Come down to my stall tomorrow, I'll give you a cask of the Arbor's finest," Jorah convincingly lied.
This got Iggo's interest. However, Aggo came over spotting old blood stain on Jorah's upper arm from the Danzak pit. The Dothraki rider also noticed Daario was wearing light leather armor.
"You're not merchants," Aggo accused, then ordered to his friend, "Get the others."
Iggo started running, Daario quickly went after him. Aggo turned to stop Daario; however, Jorah grabbed him by the arm and punched the Dothraki in the face. Aggo however, ducked avoiding the punch. Aggo grabbed Jorah by the shoulders forcing him down and kneeing him in the face. This stunned Jorah falling to the ground. Quickly he stood up, tossing punches which Aggo blocked, and received two more punches in the face. The Greyscale was suppressing his fighting ability more than usual. All the energy he had in the Daznak pit was gone. Aggo gave another blow to Jorah, sending across the alley and into the building. Jorah fell to the ground, and pain quickly felt in the face as he slid down.
As the Dothraki came forward, Jorah gathered some sand and threw it at Aggo. The Blood rider turned and looked at Jorah confused at the petty attempt. Jorah sighed, lunging up, only to be met with Aggo's hands around his neck strangling him. Jorah gasped, gagging, as he felt his throat closing up. In a desperate attempt, he tried to grab and wrapped his arms around Aggo's own to break his grasp. However, Aggo held on tight, adding more pressure. Suddenly a blade punctures through the Dothraki's chest out of nowhere. Both Jorah and Aggo looked at it surprised since it was in the heart. A quick kill, as Aggo lost hold of his grasp and fell to the ground dead. Jorah secured his neck panting, as he looked up seeing Daario wiping the blood off his blade.
"Told you, I've very attached to this knife." Daario murmured. "You alright?"
Jorah, though thankful that Daario saved him, found another problem. He stood up looking at the corpse, "If they find a body with a stab wound, the whole city will be looking for us."
Let alone Western Merchants being blamed and stalls destroyed. The only blades allowed here were stone knives. Easy to cut through food, but not sharp enough like any weapon.
Daario nodded searching for a substitute when spotting a large rock. He grabbed hold of it, hunching over the corpse and started plundering it from skull to chest to make it seem like a brawl had transpired badly. Jorah winced, watching it. Wondering if there was any remorse in the Tyroshi.
.o0o.
Daenerys's POV
Daenerys sat in the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen. The past few weeks she was kept inside waiting. Only allowed out to get some water with another Dosh Khaleen. The reason for the long wait is because not all the Khals were here until this morning. Tomorrow night, the Khalar Vezhven will spend the first meeting to discuss her fate. Will she be a part of the Dosh Khaleen or be taken in as a slave or forced to be a wife? Many thoughts linger in her head since she can make her excuse that she was not aware of the traditions of a widow to come to Vaes Dothrak after her husband died. Since she was only married for less than a year and still learning the Dothraki culture. However, it still binds her to the sacred city.
She needed to get back to Meereen. Barely sleeping, wondering if Alysanne was alive, injured or dead. The last she saw her sister, was being told to get on Drogon and fly.
Damn it, Dany! Go, you are our only hope for our House! Alysanne's voice echoed in her head.
For the first time since she was a child, she mentally prays to the Seven that Alysanne was alive. All her life since Ser Willem's death, did she have her sister. Viserys, in the beginning, was her brother, yet his cruelty did not give him the same respect as Alysanne. The Dragoness who was both sister and mother to her. The Mother of Dragons also understood her many mistakes, taking advantage of Alysanne and acting spoiled. She only thought of herself and the Iron Throne, threating and burning things while Alysanne suffered and fixes the mess Daenerys made. It was this unknown impulse that was inside her. One that doesn't make her think, only act.
And now she is alone, thinking she was the Last Dragon.
Her gaze was focused on the Dosh Khaleen whispering about her.
"Some of them don't think Dothraki should breed with foreigners," the High Priestess who was the only one willing to sit next to her. "They are stupid old women. They don't realize that we have always diluted our blood. This one is Lhazareen." Gesturing to the youngest. "Her Khal found her hiding in a well after he burned her village. How old were you?"
Daenerys paused trying to remember the young Dosh Khaleen's name. She believes it was Ornela.
The Dosh Khaleen paused trying to remember, "Twelve."
"A year later, she bore her Khal, a daughter. How did he show his happiness?" The High Priestess asked.
"He broke my ribs," Ornela answered bitterly, though her voice was timid.
"We are not queens here, but the khals depend on us for our wisdom," the High Priestess explained. "Our lives have meaning."
"That is more than most have," Daenerys said.
"When the khals meet for the Khalar Vezhven tomorrow night, I hope they let you live out your days with us. The other possibilities are not so pleasant." The High Priestess said.
"I need to get some water," Daenerys announced standing up.
"You can't run from Dothraki," The High Priestess warned. "You know this."
"I will never run from the Dothraki," Daenerys replied monotone.
"Go, show her," The High Priestess ordered Ornela.
The youngest nodded as she stood up. The two left the temple, with ease. Though she felt the Dosh Khaleen watching them. Once outside and the door closed, Daenerys sighed in relief.
"I needed fresh air," she confessed. "The old women stink."
Ornela who had her head down smiled slightly, "They do stink."
"You must have been very young when your Khal died," Daenerys said.
"Sixteen," Ornela mumbled.
"Too bad he didn't die sooner," Daenerys said.
Ornela looked at her surprised, which Daenerys smiled. This made the timid Dosh Khaleen smile, "Yes, too bad."
They continue to make their way to the stream. Although Ornela was curious, having heard the rumors from Khalasars who passed through the city.
"Is it true you have three dragons?" Ornela asked.
"Mm-hmm," Daenerys replied.
"And they breathe fire?"
"They do. Would you like to see them one day?"
"I am a Dosh Khaleen. I can never leave Vaes Dothrak until I rise as smoke from the pyre on the day I die."
Suddenly Ornela was grabbed, a hand wrapped around her face silencing her. Daenerys gasped until realizing it was Daario and Ser Jorah next to him. She then spotted the stiletto against Ornela's neck.
"No, don't hurt her," Daenerys quietly ordered.
"She'll give us away," Daario whispered.
"We have to go now," Jorah insisted.
Daenerys grabbed the stiletto and pulled it away from Ornela's neck, "We will never get out of Vaes Dothrak alive."
"All we can do is try," Jorah whispered.
"No," Daenerys said then had an idea. "We can do more than that. And you're going to help me." She then turned to Ornela, "And you…Have faith in me, Khaleesi. Do not betray me."
Ornela nodded. Daenerys saw the truth and told Daario to let her go.
"Don't scream pretty girl," Daario whispered to her, letting her go.
Ornela rushed to stand behind Daenerys rubbing her jaw. Knowing that Ornela spoke and knew Dothraki and Lhazareen, the three foreigners spoke in Common Tongue. Daenerys told them of their plan, that when she goes inside for the Khalar Vezhven, to barricade the door. She will take care of the rest by burning the temple to the ground.
"Why?" Jorah asked. "Why kill the Khals?"
"Because if a person kills the Khals and their blood riders, they inherit the Khalazar. You said yourself twelve thousand men are not enough to invade Westeros. Imagine a hundred thousand." Daenerys answered.
Jorah sighed, seeing her point, and knowing that the Dragon Sisters were immune to fire. Daario was a bit skeptical, but seeing Alysanne burned by Rhaegal's dragon-fire without a single scratch, obliged. Daenerys then looked at Jorah.
"Alysanne…is she?"
"She's alive, injured but alive," Jorah assured her. "She sent us to find you."
Daenerys sighed in relief.
Realizing she and Ornela have been gone too long, told the men to hide until tomorrow. They split up preparing what is to come.
.o0o.
Temple of the Dosh Khaleen.
The Khals assembled for Khalar Vezhven in the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen. Today, Khal Moro was in charge, for tonight they will discuss the fate of Khal Drogo's widow. All the Khals knew and respected Khal Drogo. He was the Great Khal during his time. Not once have been defeated. Among the Khals was Forzho, Brozho, Rhalko, and Qorro. They were the Khals of the Dothraki, and after the Khalar Vezhven, they will decide who is the Great Khal. Determining who is Great Khal was more civil than killing each other.
Although, it has been informed two of Morro's men are dead. Iggo having his neck snapped and Aggo head plunder to death.
"It is forbidden to spill blood in the sacred city," Forzho announced.
"It is forbidden to carry a weapon in the sacred city," Moro added.
"So we don't spill blood!" Forzho challenged.
"Well…there's always a little blood," Moro said.
"Someone crushed his head with a rock," Forzho reminded.
"Aggo belonged to my khalasar," Moro said. "He served me well. He got his head smashed by a rock. Fuck Aggo."
Forzho sighed, knowing that was true. Blood can be spilled when smashing a person's head or scraping from the ground. A Dothraki can kill another Dothraki with their bare hands in the sacred city. It just cannot be with the use of a sharp weapon.
"Bring in Drogo's widow," Moro called out.
The doors opened at the High Priestess, and Ornela brought Daenerys inside the temple. The women came before the Khals. Out of respect of their years besides their late Khals, the men bow their heads. The Dosh Khaleen was the second most powerful women in the Dothraki. They reign over Vaes Dothrak and lend their wisdom to the Khals who seek guidance. Once Daenerys was presented, the official Dosh Khaleen left to allow the Khals to decide Daenerys's fate.
"Who cares about her? She's a midget," Brozho said.
"I like her," Forzho murmured.
"She's paler than milk," Brozho said.
"I'd like to know what a khaleesi tastes like," Rhalko added his interest.
"Good. You can suck my dick," Forzho which everyone but Moro and Daenerys laughed.
Moro being a man of Dothraki honor spoke, "She belongs with the Dosh Khaleen."
"The Wise Masters of Yunkai want her. They're offering ten thousand horses in exchange," Qorro said. "What's worth more, one pink little girl or ten thousand horses?"
"Fuck the Wise Masters in their perfumed asses. I'll take their horses for myself," Moro scolded.
Daenerys had enough been treated like she wasn't in the room, "Don't you want to know what I think?"
All eyes went to her.
"You'd rather be sold into slavery?" Moro asked. "Or maybe you'd like to show Rhalko here what you taste like?"
"No," Daenerys said, and looked at Rhalko who was grinning. "I don't want either of those things."
Rhalko frowned.
"We don't care what you want," Moro said. "This is the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen. You have no voice here unless you are Dosh Khaleen. Which you are not, until we decide you are."
"I know where I am. I have been here before." Daenerys said, glancing at the brazier on the platform. "This is where the Dosh Khaleen pronounced my child the Stallion Who Mounts the World. "
"And what happened?" Morro asked, taunting. "You trusted a sorceress, like a fool. Your baby is dead because of you. And so is Khal Drogo. "
Daenerys took a deep breath, "This is where Drogo promised to take his khalasar west to where the world ends." She walked around getting on the platform. "To ride wooden horses across the Black Salt Sea as no khal has done before. He promised to kill the men in their iron suits and tear down their stone houses. He swore to me before the Mother of Mountains."
"And you were dumb enough to believe him," Moro said.
"And here, now, what great matters do the Great Khals discuss?" Daenerys asked. "Which little villages you'll raid, how many girls you'll get to fuck, how many horses you'll demand in tribute. You are small men. None of you are fit to lead the Dothraki. But I am. So I will."
The temple was engrossed in silence. Until Khal Moro started laughing, soon joined by the others in the room. Moro made his decision.
"All right. No Dosh Khaleen for you," Moro declared. "Instead we'll take turns fucking you. And then we'll let our blood riders fuck you. " He then stood up, "And if there's anything left of you, we'll give our horses a turn."
Daenerys just smiled.
"You crazy cunt," Moro yelled. "Did you really think we would serve you?"
Daenerys grasped the brazier frame. Everyone's eyes widen seeing she did not flinch or retracted from the hot metal.
"You're not going to serve. You're going to die." Daenerys promised, knocking it down towards the khals and their blood riders.
The men stumbled back trying to avoid the oil and fire pouring their way. Moro attempted to attack her, except Daenerys pushed the brazier over spilling more liquid fire. She stood there with a neutral facing, watching the Dothraki warriors trying to escape. Many reaching the doors pushing it. Unfortunately, the two guards who stood outside were killed by Jorah and Daario. If not for putting a thick branch barricading the doors were locked, trapping the Khals inside the burning building. The two men watched from afar seeing the Dothraki rushing to the Temple that was set ablaze.
Meanwhile, inside, as burning debris fell, Moro turned glaring at Daenerys. She stared back at him, eyes promising revenge for slandering her and not taking her back to Meereen. She grabbed the last two braziers and knocked them down. The burning oil splashing forward claiming the khals as they scream in agony.
Daenerys stood there feeling the flames tickling her skin. Burning away her innocence to become a woman that she desires. It was time for her to be a dragon, to take responsibility and be a leader. When the doors burned out, she stepped outside naked before the Dothraki. Everyone was shocked, seeing her standing amongst the flames unburnt. They all kneeled before her. Jorah and Daario came forward. The knight standing before one of the dragons kneeled. Daario seeing this for the second time, seeing his lover standing there in the fire did the same.
Daenerys looked at them as she thought, we're going home.
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