Chapter 8
Kronos glares up at the sun above them, breathing deeply as he stops beside Daario.
Daario turns to look back at Jorah. "You alright?"
"Too old, Jorah the explorer?" Kronos grins, mocking the old man. Jorah shoots a glare back at him.
Daario smirks, waving a dismissive hand. "Why don't you sit and catch your breath?"
"I'm fine," Jorah says as he continues, his patience being tested by the duo.
Daario laughs. "I don't think you could ride the dragon. Twenty years ago maybe."
"What?" Jorah asks.
"Our queen," Daario says patiently. "She's wild, you know. Don't let her size fool you. It's hard enough for me and I'm a young man. You - I don't think your heart could take it." Kronos rolls his eyes. Really, the two had been relentlessly arguing about who was best for Daenerys. Jorah sighs and turns away from Daario, continuing on. "Must make you angry, but our Queen chose me."
"Makes me sad," Jorah returns. "You'll disappoint her before long - she'll move on."
"We'll all disappoint her before long," Daario retorts.
Kronos shoves his way between the two men. "We need each other right now," he growls. "Wait until we don't need each other."
"Oh, I don't want to fight him," Daario assures. "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 demands.
Daario grins. "None."
Kronos grunts. "You two are being stupid," he chides. "What's the point in arguing about this if the Queen has gone? It's pointless. Wait until we've found her." He drops onto his stomach as he reaches the top of the large hill, making himself less visible. He scans the valley, vividly noting the pair of stallions that guard a civilisation hidden within.
"Two bronze stallions protect the entrance to the city, their hooves meeting in the air to form an arch - the famous Horse Gate." Jorah introduces, bringing Kronos out of his trance. Daario joins them a few seconds later.
Jorah points down into the valley. "The road running through the Horse Gate, they call that the Godsway." Ornamental idols line the Godsway, a cold reminder of the Dothraki's power - the ability to break whole cities and people. Jorah shifts slightly, pointing to a different area. "Eastern market - Western market. The place for great elephants, basilisks in silver cages and the striped black-and-white horses of the Jogos Nhai are harmless enough."
"A fascinating place, such a shame the Dothraki do not believe in money. I would buy anything for the Khaleesi," Daario boasts.
"When Khal Drogo died she was supposed to come here and join the Dosh Khaleen," Jorah interrupts.
"Dosh Khaleen?" Kronos asks, frowning slightly.
"The widows of the dead Khals," Jorah explains. "That's where they'll have taken her - the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen."
Something stirs within Kronos, anger and jealousy - two emotions he had not experienced for a long time hand in hand. Kronos frowns at the man, watching as he backs up and takes his belt off, removing the sword attached. "What are you doing?"
"It's forbidden to carry weapons inside the sacred city," Jorah explains.
"Isn't it also forbidden to sneak into their sacred city?" Daario demands.
"And steal a Khaleesi?" Kronos adds.
"If they spot us, we're unarmed. We'll say we're traders headed for the Western market," Jorah says. "But if they see weapons-"
"You're asking a dog to hand over his teeth," Daario mutters.
Kronos snorts. "His milk teeth?" he questions, smirking at the man's glare.
"There are a thousand of them down there," Jorah says, ignoring both of their comments. "We can't fight our way out."
Kronos nods. "Wait 'til dark," he muses.
"Then we'll find her," Jorah agrees.
Percy laughs. "Does it really take three men to save one woman?"
"You mean two men and one boy to save a Queen?" Ares corrects him.
"Honestly, either the trio are love sick for her beauty or they're wimps." Annabeth sighs.
"Kronos - a wimp?" Hecate exclaims.
"Why do you look like you're having a heart attack? It's nothing new." Hermes snorts.
"He'll go from a wimp to a warrior, just you wait." The goddess of magic snaps.
"Wait for what?" Hermes asks confused.
"Time to win in the end." Hecate says lowly.
Daario hands his arakh to Jorah, who drops it into a bush beside them and expectantly holds his hand out for Daario's knife. Daario frowns. "I'm very attached to this knife," he warns, kissing the pommel - the bosom of a naked woman - before he reluctantly hands it over. Kronos rolls his eyes - typical - though he considers taking the knife and arakh for his own, if its owner ever passed. Daario freezes before he touches Jorah, staring down at the man's arm.
A rip in Jorah's shirt reveals the mottled marks of greyscale. The flaked brittle stone skin decorates the human flesh beneath it, the cracks in the skin resembling the pattern of cracked ice. The thought of the pain the disease inflicts on a mortal being - one would rather die than bear succumbing to it. Kronos grimaces, even for a disease in its early stages, it was a ghastly sight.
Jorah sighs. "Don't worry, it didn't touch you."
"You know what happens?" Daario asks.
Jorah just nods slightly. "I know what happens," he murmurs.
Kronos peers down at his arm. "Interesting," he muses.
Daario retreats slightly from Jorah. "I'll do it myself," he says, carefully putting his treasured knife into the bush.
Kronos eyes the man's arm warily, deciding against handing his cherished Backbiter to Jorah - he wasn't letting that plague anywhere near his sword. Kronos crouches and puts his sword in the bush, discreetly checking that he still has his dagger hidden under his shirt.
Nightfall comes quickly.
Kronos ducks down behind Jorah and Daario, peering out at the Dothraki in front of them.
"I should have been born a Dothraki," Daario mutters as he sees two having sex off to the side, shamelessly being vocal.
Kronos rolls his eyes. "Daenerys, Daario. Not sex."
"Trust me," Daario smirks. "I can think of both at the same time."
Kronos' eyes narrow sharply at Daario sending a message of his own - one move on her and this is war. Daario smirks, accepting the former Titan's challenge before he turns to follow Jorah.
The three men move swiftly between the buildings, Jorah taking the front and Daario bringing up the rear. To keep the more inexperienced member of the group out of trouble, Kronos assumes. Though personally, he still believes he's the expert out of the trio, he was the former immortal.
Kronos ducks into the shadows, pressing his back against a hut to keep out of the light. A pair of Dothraki approach, and Jorah steps out in front of them, conversing with them in their own tongue.
One of the Dothraki says something in response, and the other one runs. Kronos, seeing how Daario starts to runs after him, assumes that their plan hasn't worked. Jorah, you fool.
The former Titan lunges from the shadows, catching the Dothraki who tried to run before he can leave the little alley as Jorah gets beaten up by the other Dothraki. Kronos uses his weight and momentum to tackle the other man down, struggling to cover his mouth to stop him calling for backup.
Eventually, Kronos grits his teeth and takes out his dagger, driving it down through the Dothraki's throat. He continues to cover his mouth until the Dothraki can no longer speak. Kronos sits back and lets out a heavy breath, turning to look at Jorah to see the other Dothraki dead on the ground.
"I'm very attached to this knife," Daario tells them as he wipes his knife off.
"If they find bodies with a stab wound the whole city will be looking for us," Jorah says, panting lightly.
Kronos picks up a large rock, tossing it to Daario. "Here."
The mortal lifts the rock above his head before he brings it down on the man's chest several times, blood splattering up over them. Then Daario throws the rock back to Kronos, gesturing to the Dothraki Kronos had killed. "You too."
The rock is slippery in Kronos' hands, the blood making it hard to grip onto. But Kronos manages, crushing the man's throat with the rock until there's no sign of the stab wound. Kronos drops the rock and cleans his hands and dagger on the Dothraki's clothes.
Several minutes later, they spot Daenerys making her way across the camp.
Kronos nudges Jorah, gesturing over to the Khaleesi. "Look," he murmurs.
Jorah nods. "I see her."
The three men follow the two women until they're out of sight of the camp. Before Kronos can tell Daario it's a bad idea, he has his knife at the other woman's throat.
"No! Don't hurt her!" Daenerys exclaims.
"She'll give us away," Daario says.
"We have to go - now," Jorah urges.
Daenerys grabs Daario's hand until he releases the Dothraki. "We will never get out of Vaes Dothrak alive."
"We can try," Kronos says.
"No," Daenerys breathes. "I can do more than that. And you're going to help me." She turns to the other Khaleesi and speaks to her.
Kronos sighs heavily. "Someone needs to teach me Dothraki. And Meereenese. And every single fucking language I might come across."
Daenerys frowns slightly at him. "You should still be resting."
He smiles crookedly in response. "I just couldn't sit idly by while these old men got to prance around."
The fire burns bright and the screams of the Khals echo around.
Kronos watches as Daenerys steps out of the burning hut, fire flickering around her and all of her clothes burnt away. It reminds him of Hyperion and his brother's love for burning things. All of the Dothraki kneel before Daenerys, thousands of them bending the knee to the Khaleesi.
The three men slowly approach, before Jorah drops to his knees. Daario stares open-mouthed, until he too kneels to the queen.
Kronos is slower, far more reluctant to bend the knee. Especially to a mortal, but there's something about Daenerys that makes him hesitant to fight her. Something about her that makes him want to stay around her. It disgusts him yet intrigues him at the same time.
Daenerys doesn't even look slightly put out by the fire around her, staring coolly down at the Dothraki kneeling to her.
She locks eyes with Kronos briefly, and he exhales sharply. Slowly, Kronos drops down to one knee. It's an odd movement, one that he's not used to and he certainly won't make a habit of it.
But perhaps it's for the best.
Kronos shifts slightly as Daenerys turns to face him, Jorah and Daario. Her eyes pass right over him to land on Jorah. "I banished you - twice. You came back - twice. And you saved my life."
Kronos presses his lips together, sharing a frown with Daario.
"So I can't take you back," Daenerys continues. "And I can't send you away." She steps towards Jorah, but he backs away from her.
"You must send me away," Jorah rasps, and Kronos tries to ignore the dark satisfaction he feels as Jorah reveals the greyscale up his arm, watching as Daenerys' face falls.
"Is there a cure?" She demands.
"I don't know," Jorah admits.
Her lip shakes slightly, but she holds herself together. "How long does it take?"
"I don't know that either," Jorah says. "But I've seen what happens when it goes far enough. I'll end things before that."
"I'm sorry," Daenerys whispers, looking terribly upset. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," Jorah says. "All I've ever wanted was to serve you. Tyrion Lannister was right - I love you. I'll always love you." He takes a deep breath. "Goodbye, Khaleesi."
Kronos eyes a tear on her cheek as she speaks. "Do not walk away from your queen. Jorah the Andel, you have not been dismissed." Kronos inwardly sighs, because no matter what he may want, Daenerys loves Jorah. "You pledged yourself to me. You swore to obey my commands for the rest of your life." Jorah ducks his head slightly. "Well, I command you to find a cure. Wherever it is in this world. I command you to heal yourself. And then return to me. When I take the Seven Kingdoms, I need you by my side."
Kronos grimaces, feeling a dark jealousy rise up in him. He has the sudden urge to shove Jorah down the hill behind him and watch as his body collides with the rocks.
Instead, he wisely keeps silent.
Jorah finds a horse from the Dothraki, and Kronos watches as he rides away in front of them.
The former immortal is given a black horse, riding out at the front of the Dothraki with Daario and Daenerys. He wants to speak with her, but she only has eyes for Jorah as he turns and looks back at them before riding off.
Finally, she turns to glance at Kronos. "Why did you join them? I can understand Daario and Jorah riding after me, but not you."
Kronos lets out a short breath, gripping Backbiter's pommel to assure himself that the faithful blade is still at his side. "I couldn't let the old men go out and have all the fun." He tilts his head to the side. "You will teach me, yes? I can't help you if I don't know the languages."
"I can have Missandei teach you," Daenerys says.
Kronos frowns. "What about you?" He asks. "I'd much prefer it if you were to teach me," he presses.
Daenerys shakes her head slightly. "Missandei knows more than I."
"Yes," Kronos sighs, "but I prefer you."
"Oh, really?" She asks in faint amusement.
Kronos nods. "Yes," he says bluntly. "She's not as beautiful as you."
Daario sighs heavily. "This is horrible to listen to."
"Shut up," Kronos grumbles to the mercenary.
Daenerys smiles, apparently amused by Kronos' words. "Very well," she concedes. "I will teach you."
It's not long after that Daenerys stops, the Dothraki behind also stopping.
Daario frowns. "Everything alright?"
"How many days ride to Meereen?" Daenerys asks.
"A week at best," Daario says, speaking from experience.
"How many ships will I need to bring my Khalassar to Westeros?"
"Easily a thousand," Kronos says before Daario can answer, causing the mercenary to roll his eyes. "More."
"And who has that many?" Daenerys asks.
"Nobody," Daario says.
"Nobody yet," Daenerys murmurs.
"So we ride for Meereen, then we sail for Westeros," Daario muses. "What then?"
"I take what is mine," Daenerys states.
"You weren't made to sit on a chair in a palace."
"What was I made for?" Daenerys asks, humouring the man.
"You're a conqueror," Kronos says. Daenerys smiles slightly, before she gets a look in her eyes that makes Kronos frown. "You have an idea," he states.
Daenerys smiles. "Wait here," she orders before she rides off.
Kronos sighs heavily, staring longingly after her. "Well, this is getting too common."
The Dothraki and their horses start getting fidgety after several long minutes almost an hour. Kronos just sighs and shakes his head as Daario says something which he can't understand, starting away from them.
The former Titan jerks his head up as a shriek echoes around them and a shadow passes overhead.
He exhales sharply as he sees Drogon, the dragon a dark red as he gracefully flies over, taking a wide circle so Kronos can see Daenerys on his back as he lands in front of them, startling the horses with another loud shriek.
Kronos doesn't know what Daenerys says, but it soon gets the Dothraki riled up and their horses rearing. There's a primal feeling in Kronos' stomach, a fire that flickers to life as he looks at the Dothraki behind him. Daario smiles, looking like he's feeling the same as Kronos.
Drogon shrieks again over the sounds of the Dothraki cheering at Daenerys' words.
And, instantly, Kronos knows that Daario isn't feeling the way the former Titan is. He can't be, because it's divine energy that leaks into Kronos, soothing his burning muscles.
Kronos inhales deeply, and finds himself dismounting from the horse.
The cries of the Dothraki behind him are blocked out, and he's only interested in the dragon crouched before him. Kronos finds himself reaching out towards Drogon, pressing a hand against the side of the dragon's jaw. Drogon growls low in his throat, a warning. Before Kronos thinks, he finds himself growling back.
Kronos inhales deeply. He keeps breathing, even as he feels his divine energy - his very being - shifting inside.
The former immortal isn't entirely sure how it happens, or even why, but he finds a jet of fire erupting from his mouth. His skin darkens and becomes scales.
A low growl bubbles from his throat, his wings spreading out, and Kronos shrieks triumphantly.
Daenerys stares at him open-mouthed, and Kronos is more than aware of the Dothraki behind him, and Daario looking utterly astonished.
Drogon shrieks back at Kronos, growling slightly.