Chapter 16: The Stallion Who Mounts The World
Ever since Viserys Targaryen had been given his molten gold crown, and tossed in a ditch outside Vaes Dothrak, Khal Drogo, Daenerys Targaryen and the entire Khalasar had been a lot better off. The constant moaning, groaning and complaining had been getting on everyone's last nerves, and when the pathetic whining had stopped, the Khalasar had seemed to not be mourning the loss of the psychotic prince.
Daenerys was definitely better off without him there. The times where she would lose all her strength and confidence the moment Viserys walked by were long gone, and now her strength radiated and anyone close by could bask in it's full glory.
Even Khal Drogo had been enchanted by the sudden outburst of strength his wife had seemed to have. He definitely did everything he could to fully integrate his wife into the Khalasar, and on occasion, the Khaleesi could be heard agreeing with her husband when there was a dispute in the Khalasar's leaders, and even sometimes settling a dispute herself, as the strongest of the Khalasar knew never to argue with their Khaleesi, lest they risk angering the great Khal Drogo.
Since Viserys' death, Jhiqui, Irri and Doreah had not been harassed by anyone, and they continued to serve the Khaleesi loyally. Again, something about Daenerys Targaryen inspired loyalty in those that surrounded her. Ser Jorah Mormont had taken to being her personal bodyguard alongside Rakharo, another member of the Khalasar. The two men had become somewhat fast friends, especially considering that Ser Jorah had mastered speaking Dothraki.
Then everyone had found out that Daenerys Targaryen, The Stormborn, The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea was with child.
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Many of the Khalasar's most respected men and women had gathered into the small hut, the centre of it upraised, showing what Daenerys Targaryen was doing. Khal Drogo was sat right in front of it, his bloodriders stood behind him, and Irri, Jhiqui, Doreah and Annalise were sat next to him, watching as Daenerys had began eating a raw stallion heart. Ser Jorah had a grim look on his face, probably from what she was doing, but he didn't look like he was going to move, and he kept his eyes trained on the Khaleesi.
"Doreah, what is the purpose of this… ritual?" Annalise asked quietly, as the female Dothraki continued to chant.
"As the princess is Khaleesi, it is her duty to have strong child for her Khal. The belief here is that if she is to eat a horse's heart, without throwing it back up, the Khal is destined to have a strong son." The handmaid replied.
The old crone kept on chanting, but Annalise could not make out a single word that the woman was saying. From what Annalise could tell from the manner and tone, it definitely was not sombre, yet it wasn't something the Khalasar would go to war about.
No, it sounded like something from a cult, something almost akin to a chant, and a few of the men and women surrounding the crone and Daenerys had begun to chant it as well, watching cautiously as Daenerys managed to keep large pieces of the heart down in her stomach. Her hands were covered in blood, and her face was coated in it.
Ser Jorah had taken a few steps forward, and was just at Annalise's side. He was not wearing his plated armour, otherwise he would have been sweating. He was wearing his green sur-coat, the great black bear stitiched on it, roaring at nobody and nothing in particular.
"Ser Jorah, what will happen if she doesn't eat the entire heart?"
"Nothing bad will happen to the Khaleesi, Drogo will make sure of that. However, if she does not eat it, it will mean that the child will either be a girl, or it will be a sickly child."
"I take it that will be a bad thing?"
"Being a woman or sickly in a Khalasar is not very good, as you can already tell. If you were not a guest of Khal Drogo and the Khaleesi, you would be a slave to anyone of these men here. You would not have a nice fate, I would be able to tell you that much."
"I had guessed as much."
Daenerys was making great progress with the heart, and the chanting from the crone had become even louder, and more passionate, so much so that even more of the Khalasar was chanting along with her, even Drogo's bloodriders were chanting quietly, and the Khal himself was just mouthing the words, his steely grey eyes focusing on his wife as she continued to eat and chew her way through the heart.
When Annalise had been away, Jhiqui and Irri had been preparing her for this exact ceremony, so Annalise had heard. Daenerys had asked for half-clotted blood so she could get accustomed to the taste of it, and had also apparently starved herself so the hunger could try and help her keep down the raw meat.
Soon, Daenerys had whittled the stallion heart down to a final piece, and quickly threw it into her mouth. She swallowed it, but fell to the ground, placing her hands over her mouth, trying to keep in what remained of the devoured horse heart. Spit and clotted blood dripped between the cracks of her fingers, but none remained of the heart. Daenerys picked herself up and stood tall in front of everyone, blood coating her fingers and all around her mouth.
Daenerys turned to look at the crones of the Dosh Khaleen. "Khalakka dothrae mr'anha!"
A prince rides inside me!
The oldest of the crones, an old, shrivelled and bent woman with a single black eye, raised her hands up high. "Khalakka dothrai!" She proclaimed. The prince is riding!
"He is riding!" Another woman shouted, and soon everyone was chanting. "Rakh! Rakh! Rakh haj!" A boy, a boy, a strong boy!" They chanted.
The crones of the Dosh Khaleen began to throw bundles of dry grass into a bronze brazier, clouds of fragrant smoke began to slowly rise up from the fire. Soon the chanting stopped, and the old crone with the one black eye began to stare ominously into the fire as the other crones kept placing the dry grass into the fire.
Khal Drogo held tightly onto his wife's arm, even a Khal as dangerous and unpredictable as Khal Drogo knew never to cross the wizened one-eyed crone as she stared into the fires of the future.
Finally, the crone lifted her arms and opened her eye. She droned: "I have seen his face, and I have heard the thundering of the hooves..."
"The thundering of the hooves!" The men and women chanted.
"As swift as the wind he rides, and behind him his khalasar covers the earth, men without number, with arakhs shining in their hands like blades of razor grass! As fierce as a storm this prince will be! His enemies shall tremble before him! The bells in his hair will sing his coming, and the milk men in the stone tents will fear his name! The prince is riding, and he is the stallion who mounts world!" The one-eyed woman proclaimed.
"The stallion who mounts the world!" The crowds gasped.
The one eyed crone peered at Dany. "What will the prince be called, the stallion who mounts the world?"
Daenerys looked up to answer. "His name will be Rhaego! The Stallion Who Mounts the World!"
"Rhaego! Rhaego! His name will be Rhaego, the stallion who mounts the world!"
The large crowd had gone from being deafly silent, to cheering and screaming as loudly as they could, chanting as loudly as they could. "Rhaego! Rhaego! Rhaego!"
Drogo had gotten up from his chair and marched to the centre of the hut, picking up Daenerys, wrapping his muscled arms around her hips and hauling her up, and he carried her around the hut as the crowds just kept chanting:
"Rhaego! Rhaego! The Stallion Who Mounts The World!
