Chapter 20: Praising the Dragon
"So your name is Solaire?"
"Yes, my lady. Solaire from the Holy Lands of Astora, or just Solaire of Astora." The large man replied.
"And you say that you have no idea how you arrived here in Qohor?" Daenerys asked.
"The way I see it, our fates are now intertwined. Could it really be mere chance that I managed to capture that dreadful assassin that would have escaped? As a Warrior of Sunlight, it is my duty to help whoever I can, no matter who they are."
"You did not answer my question." Daenerys stated.
"I know. Truthfully, I have no idea how I managed to get here. How does one such as me, transcend their own world, their own reality, and manage to be in a place such as this? A place where I am clearly not from. Where does one such as me go from here?"
It was clear that the new warrior that they had met was troubled, that much was clear. He carried himself pridefully however, yet he was not egotistical. He was not rude, rather polite instead. His armour was very rare in the east.
"Nowhere." Annalise answered, as she answered Solaire's question.
"Are you… who I think you are? One, from my land? A lady of the flame?" Solaire asked, and he quickly knelt before her, his sword planted firmly in the ground.
"Lady Anna, do you know this man?" Jorah asked inquisitively.
Annalise was quiet for a moment, and as soon as she could see Solaire's eyes peer through his helmet, she knew he was the very same man from ages past. "Aye, I know him. Solaire of Astora, Warrior of Sunlight, and a close friend and companion. I know this man well."
"Lady Anna? Oh, my eyes must be deceiving me! I must be dreaming, it cannot be! I never thought I would see you again! Oh, how I have missed you!"
Solaire leapt from his knees, and leaving his sword planted firmly in the ground and wrapped his heavily armoured arms around the small priestess in front of him. It had been a long time since she had been hugged, especially from a man as kind as Solaire. She would get affection from Daenerys and the other girls, but not from the other men, even Jorah kept his emotions locked away. Clearly, Solaire was different.
How long has Solaire been here? With nobody like us with him, has he been alone all of this time?
"Solaire, have you been alone all this time?" Anna asked.
"I… I don't know. I have heard roars of beasts I would rather not see ever again. They… they sounded like a dragon."
"A dragon you say?" Daenerys interjected. "Did you see it? What did it look like?"
Solaire was silent again, and he could tell that Daenerys was rather interested when dragons were mentioned. The tanned, silver haired young girl seemed to pale when Solaire had told her the answer.
"I caught a small glimpse… It was as black as the night, and its roar… It was a thing of beauty, I have never heard anything like it…"
The whole tent was silent, nobody could even comprehend what Solaire was telling them at all. Dragons in Westoros? Dragons hadn't existed for hundreds of years, and the last dragon that lived was only as big as a small puppy, yet Solaire had just told them he had seen an adult, pure black, roaring dragon roaming the lands. There had never been a thing said for hundreds of years, and everyone was reacting exactly as those who accompanied them.
That was to say, speechless.
Khal Drogo soon entered the tent, with his bloodriders and there most trusted Dothraki riders in tow. Drogo made a beeline for his Khaleesi, and wrapped around her with his seemingly enormous arms, holding her tight within his grasp. The rest of the group were silent, not even letting out a breath, lest they incur the Khal's anger and wrath, because he was clearly angry, but not at the group, but at the tied up assassin who was lying helplessly on the floor, bleeding like a stabbed hog, his nose broken completely and some teeth completely missing. Droplets of water were running down his head, and the group could not determine whether he was sweating, or crying silently in fear.
"My sun and stars, are you injured? Hurt in anyway? Tell me, my love." Drogo growled in Dothraki.
"Moon of my life, I'm perfectly fine. Jorah the Andal and… Solaire of Astora saved my life."
Drogo let go of Daenerys and stood tall, taller than anyone else in the room, except for Solaire, who stood at exactly the same height as Drogo.
"Jorah the Andal, Solaire of Astora, I will allow you to pick one of the best horses from our stores, for the service you have done for me, and for saving my wife from danger." Drogo said, clapping the two men on their shoulders.
Jorah quickly responded in Dothraki, thanking Khal Drogo for the reward. Drogo looked at Solaire strangely, as if he were completely out of place.
"You are… different. Not from Essos, or the place across the great salt sea. Who are you?" Drogo asked.
Solaire looked at him in the weirdest way, and he had no idea what the massive, topless giant was trying to say (Or growl) to him.
"Pardon me, but what is he trying to say?" Solaire asked.
Jorah was the first to answer. "He says that you are not from this place, Essos, or from across the Narrow Sea. He asks who you are."
"Oh, I see. Well, my name is Solaire of Astora, a Warrior of Sunlight and ally. Who are you?"
It was then Drogo's turn to look at Solaire with a confused look on his face. The two behemoths looked at each other, each of them rather confused as they looked at the other.
Daenerys was the first to end the awkward and uncomfortable silence. "My sun and stars, Solaire here is from a far away land, just like Annalise. He is a warrior that fights for the sun. Trust me, love, he is a firm ally."
"I believe you, Moon of my life, but will he live like the way we live? He seems to be… too good..."
"He will have to follow us anyway, my sun and stars, if he is our ally."
Soon, Khal Drogo stopped focusing on Solaire, and glared at the bleeding assassin on the floor. The assassin seemed to have relieved himself all over the floor he was lying upon, before being dragged to his knees by the Khal before him. The liquid that was covering his face had now thoroughly convinced everyone that the man was definitely crying his eyes out, and the fact that he had now cried so much, he just could not cry any more.
"You are not worthy of the very ground you walk upon," Drogo said. "If you had not even considered attempting to kill the moon of my life, then I would not even bother trying to talk to you. Now, you will die, slowly and painfully, and alone. You will die, your children will die, your family will die, and they will die like dogs."
Drogo drew his arakh, and dug it deep into the man's flesh, slowly slicing from the shoulder all the way down to the wrist, before doing it to the other arm. He then began to slice down the man's spine, and then his stomach. Drogo's eyes were full of fiery intent, he wanted the man to die, clearly, but the way he was going about it seemed to express his very hatred of the man who tried to kill his own wife, the mother of his child. Soon, Drogo stood the man up, who at that point was pouring blood everywhere, and slowly placed the arakh on the man's throat, and the harshly sliced for the final time. He fell to the floor, clutching at his throat at an attempt to stem the bleeding, yet it did not work, and soon enough, he died.
The sudden screams tore through the entire Dothraki encampment, and the sharp sound of arakhs being drew put the entire camp on alert. Drogo and his bloodriders charged out of the tent, with Daenerys, Anna, Jorah and Solaire following close behind him. Soon, they reached the centre of the camp, to see the destruction that was being caused, horses were galloping everywhere, crushing men, women and children of the Khalasar underfoot, tents were burning down, and men and women were screaming, as flames began to cover them, their very flesh sloughing off their bones as they fell to the floor.
"Do not retreat! Do not fall!" Drogo screamed out, his bloody arakh in hand. He looked all around, trying to see whatever was causing all of the destruction in his own camp.
Soon, he had his answer. Four black, leathery feet landed on the sand. There was a roar, loud, bellowing into the sky, and the sky was lit up. Fire was being spewed into the humid air, and Drogo dropped his arakh, as the sleek black creature bowed his head and looked at the tiny man in front of him.
A Dragon, a real-life, live dragon?
"Drogo, stop!" Solaire yelled out.
Solaire drew his sword and charged the dragon, but was smacked aside by one of the Dragon's paws. Solaire flew into one of the flaming tent, but emerged unscathed yet slightly burnt, yet he was thrown aside once more by the dragon's tail. Solaire landed in front of Jorah and Daenerys, he tried to get up once more, but failed, before dropping to the floor, groaning in pain.
"What are you?!" Drogo screamed in anguish, spitting and smacking his chest in anger as he spoke.
Soon the dragon stopped causing chaos and killing the Dothraki, and looked at the screaming little man in front of him.
"I AM KALAMEET!"
