The Moon's Guidance

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones.

Languages

Dothraki

Common tongue

Chapter 15: Gifts and Jealousy

Alysanne's POV

The next few days have been resting. Jorah had been going to the docks searching for any merchants or captains heading to Pentos or any of the Free Cities. Yet when he came back that evening, he looked exhausted. We were in the garden as Rhaego attempted to capture a fish from the pool.

"None of the ships are heading west," Jorah reported. "I did manage to send a messenger bird, although I don't know how long that would be."

I nodded as I took this information in, "How long do you think it will take?"

"Probably a month to get to and from, if not longer," Jorah explained. "I will keep going to the docks until we can find a ship."

"Xaro is hosting a party in a few weeks. Maybe I should talk to some people to see if any are heading west," I offered.

Jorah made a scowl. I was not trying to offend him. Then again, men do have a more sensitive pride than women. I took his hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Please understand, I was suggesting on getting enough information," I started.

Jorah sighed, "I know. I just don't want you to be alone with these people."

I raised a brow.

"I heard about the Qartheens only care about is making a profit. They won't be like the people you had socialized with. Not the Hosts who took you in expecting favor from you in the future. They will want the favor immediately or money," he explained.

"Probably," I agreed.

"They might even consider you taking the Iron Throne," Jorah added.

I took a deep breath. I still don't know if I want to pursue the Iron Throne. All my life, it has been about the Iron Throne. How everyone is encouraging the Three dragons, mainly Viserys, to reclaim his birthright and I, Queen Consort. However, ever since Viserys's death, I've never honestly thought about it. Sure, it popped up in my head when Rhaego was born, and Daenerys brought it up. But Drogo showed little interest in honoring Viserys's promise since there had been no omens for war. And Daenerys and I seemed to be happy in the Dothraki lifestyle.

Now Drogo is gone. The Dothraki have abandoned us. And I don't know what to do. Should I return to the campaign to bring the dragons to the Iron Throne? This thought has been running through my head for months. Should I continue for the sake of Rhaego…or do I let it all go and allow Rhaego to have a steady life.

"The choice is yours if you want to reclaim the Iron Throne. All I ask is for you to be careful around here. One person could be connected to the Spider's web," Jorah added.

He was referring to Lord Varys, the Master of Whisperers who has Little Birds worldwide, to report to King Robert and the Small Council. It has been a few years since the last assassination attempt on my life. I placed a hand over the scar on the back of my neck. Is that the life I want to give to Rhaego if I reclaimed the Iron Throne? A life of looking over his shoulder?

"I don't know what I want," I confessed. "It has been almost two months since Daenerys's death."

Jorah nodded as he sat down next to me, "I know. Once we are in Pentos, we will figure things out."

I nodded until a splash of water got us as Rhaego was leaning too deep into the pool only to fall in. Immediately Jorah and I rushed to grab him. Jorah caught him in time, picking up the wet toddler. He stared at us in shock before he started crying.

"Well, we definitely have our hands full," Jorah chuckled, shaking his head.

I chuckled, taking hold of Rhaego and checking for any scrapes. Fortunately, there weren't any. Just the startle of falling and getting wet frightened the boy.

"I swear, what am I going to do with you," I told Rhaego.

Rhaego sniffled, snuggling into me, trying to seek comfort. I chuckled again, staring at Jorah, who watched amused. This is where we are. Two broken people raising a toddler. Let alone where our future would be. A family. Jorah and I have been together for over a year, and…I still wonder where our relationship will go. Jorah stated he is divorced, though is he holding back because of Lynesse Hightower? The woman who ruined this noble knight.

We took Jorah inside to freshen up and got ready for the evening.

"By the way, I got you and the handmaiden these," Jorah said, gesturing to a small box on the table.

I walked over to get a better look, using one hand to open it and find Lys Elixirs. I stared at Jorah, surprised, not expecting him to get contraception. They were normal for us since moon tea is not accessible in Essos. Also, Lys Elixir is more potent, that women in Lys have control of their body when siring a baby. Then again, Lys is known for poisons to every level.

"I want you ladies to be safe," he said.

"Is that all?" I asked.

Jorah smirked as he came over, "I want you to be protected."

He wouldn't dare add on to that. We were thankful the Dothraki that chased us stopped, for if they had caught us, Rhaego, Jorah, and Rakharo would be dead while Irri, Doreah, and I would have been raped and enslaved. Even though we are no longer near a Dothraki threat, some men will take advantage of us.

Also, for us to be intimate safely. Sure, we had a moment in Vaes Tolorro, but we were careful. I set Rhaego down as he sat on the table. I took hold of a vial, and drank it. The taste was not as grand, but I know in a few days I'll be protected. Rhaego reached up to take the vial.

"Oh no, not for you," I murmured, putting the vial back in the case.

Rhaego gave a pout.

A pout that reminded me of Daenerys.

I sighed, picking the boy up and hugging him. Jorah watched us, knowing this was hard on me. All I can do is stay strong and protect my nephew.

.o0o.

The days continued as Jorah tried to secure us a ship. Irri and Doreah were by my side as we continued to tend to Rhaego. We were working on improving his language skills, as Irri spoke the basic Dothraki while Doreah added the common tongue. I even try to slip in Valyrian as well. I also added the basic math of counting numbers.

Was it the best education? Probably not, but it was a distraction.

Xaro Xhoan Daxos would even stop by for a visit. He has been a gracious host in providing his hospitality in food and board. Even linen robes for us ladies to wear for the time being. Xaro Xhoan Daxos would stay for a short period of time. He was a busy man, a merchant prince, except he did not have a precise trade like the spice king. Since only a pureborn Qartheen can have the title of a king with their trade. For example, the spice king, the copper king, and the silk king.

But that is not the only thing Xaro Xhoan Daxos does. After a week of recovering, the gracious host has been providing gifts. The first gift is a silver collar with an enchanted amethyst that supposedly protects the wearer of poisons. The next day, perfumes and pomegranates. The day after that of a monkey with black and white fur, which Rhaego enjoyed.

Jorah would come back and stare at these presents. When he saw the silver collar, his eyes narrowed at the jewelry. I try to assure him that I do not tend to wear it, commenting, "It's a bit uncomfortable to wear and not to my taste." Jorah nodded since I was more of a pendant person than a collar. When the perfumes and pomegranates arrived, he seemed fine. When the monkey came, he was starting to show his jealousy.

But the worst of it was when Jorah stayed one day. Instead of searching for a ship, Xaro Xhoan Daxos arrived for his annual visit holding an ornate box. Xaro's eyes widened slightly to see Jorah, yet he kept his composure.

"Ser Jorah, I'm glad to see you are recovering well," Xaro Xhoan Daxos greeted.

"That I am," Jorah replied casually.

Xaro Xhoan Daxos nodded as he turned his attention to me, "Your Highness."

"There is no need for formalities," I assured him.

"I beg to differ," he said as he set the ornate box on the table. "A gift for you, your highness."

I was hesitant about things that were sealed and closed. Never knowing a poisonous animal might lie inside, ready to strike. Xaro Xhoan Daxos noticed this and lifted the jeweled lid to reveal a handful of scrolls. I stood up to get a better look to see the scrolls. The scrolls were cased in a metallic tube ornate with black gems. The same materials that go along the handles resemble dragon features. I take one end and pull it down very delicately to reveal its content. The roll was aged, being a few hundred years old, while the ink showed slight fading. The words were not written in common writing or a literate nation. My eyes widened, for I learned to read this text in Lys.

"This is ancient Valyrian," I murmured.

"Scrolls from lost Valyria," Xaro Xhoan Daxos confirmed. "I was going through my library. And I must confess, I forgot I had these. I knew they might hold a better interest with you."

"You shouldn't have," I said. "These are too much."

"I insist," he said, giving a smile.

Jorah came over, getting a better look at the scrolls. He had that look, though emotionless. His eyes held envy. Not for him to collect the gift, but not being the one giving it. The last time he brought a text was during Daenerys and Drogo's weddings, of songs and histories of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Thank you, Xaro Xhoan Daxos," I said.

The man of the thirteen bowed, "I must go and prepare for the party. The maids will arrive with gowns for you and your ladies."

I nodded, "Again, thank you."

Xaro Xhoan Daxos nodded before leaving the room.

After a moment, Jorah said, "He seems to like you."

"Well, I am a princess," I countered to lighten the mood while examining the scroll.

"One who has a legitimate claim to the Iron Throne," Jorah reminded.

I sighed, setting the scroll down, and took his hand, "If I didn't know any better, I would say you are jealous."

Jorah raised a brow at such an accusation.

I chuckled softly and pecked his lips. "You know my heart belongs to you."

Jorah sighed as he squeezed my hand, "I've never gotten you valuable gifts."

I cradle his cheek with my free hand, "I don't need expensive things. As I told you the day after the Moon festival. All I want is to be loved, happy, and protected."

Jorah nodded, yet his eyes lingered on the scrolls.

"Do you remember the first gift you gave me?" I asked him.

"The surcoat?" he replied.

A female version of a burgundy surcoat with small embroideries of desert flowers. Over the past two years, I have worn it. It was a gift after my separation from Viserys. After the rape. Viserys destroyed most of my clothes out of spite when Daenerys and Drogo got me a separate hut next to theirs while their bloodriders guarded me. I felt uncomfortable wearing the Dothraki attire, being raised in modesty. So, when Jorah came back from visiting Qohor to deliver a message to Magister Illyrio, he got me the surcoat. The light fabric was suitable for the weather and covered most of my body.

"You hardly wore anything else," he murmured, leaning into my hand.

"Xaro Xhoan Daxos is doing what he can to gain my favor," I reminded him. "Many hosts do that."

Jorah sighed, "Very well."

I pecked him one more time.

"We should probably get back to your training," he grumbled.

Then let's get ready.

The rest of the day has been training on the swords again. It has been a while for me, and Jorah wants to make sure I keep to my training. I inherited the Targaryen sword, and I'll make sure I know how to use it properly and not for a show like Viserys did.

The training was a good distraction for Jorah. He is protective of me, and jealousy can be amusing. But I will be reminding him that I am his and he is mine. No one can change that.

.o0o.

The day before the party, Jorah went through the docks, searching for ships with Rakharo. The ladies and I were in my apartment, relaxing and enjoying ourselves. Irri was mending some clothes while Doreah and I worked with Rhaego on improving his common tongue.

"Dragon," I said in a clear voice, holding my dragon figurine.

Rhaego took hold of the figurine and started playing with it.

"Dragon," I repeated with a smile.

"Da-gon," Rhaego attempted to say. "Dagon."

I chuckled, "Close enough."

I let Rhaego play with my childhood toy.

"It won't be long before he says a thousand words," I teased, setting Rhaego on a chair and off the ledge.

Doreah reached out to pick Rhaego up but I intervened," Let him play, Doreah."

"Yes, Your Grace," Doreah replied as followed me.

"Doreah, how many times do I have to tell you I am not a queen," I reminded her.

I might be the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, but I have not been anointed as an active ruling queen. Even when Viserys keeps calling himself a king and Hosts address me as "Your Grace." It still felt wrong. Many address me as "My Lady" or "Your Highness." Then again, being from an extinct House doesn't hold much power.

"Well, you are." Doreah insisted.

"You are too kind," I murmured.

I glanced over to Rhaego, who managed to climb out of the chair and made his way over to the child's bed. There were a few toys Xaro Xhoan Daxos had bought for Rhaego. However, Rhaego gravitated to the dragon figurine and a small carving of a boat Jorah purchased recently. Practically ignoring all the soldier figurines and horses.

Irri made her way over to me as she showed me the progress in mending our clothes. I picked up the top seeing the splendid mending work. As I held the top, Irri showed the boot. "I rewove this part of the top. And I fixed the heel on this one."

Seeing how much work she had done, I examined the boot and proudly said, "Thank you, Irri. You have done marvelous work."

Irri smiled at this.

Doreah walked over to the bed, lifting up one of the few dresses that Xaro Xhoan Daxos had provided for us for the coming event. She lifted up the purple dress that was made of delicate silk. It was not the samite silk that most clothes are made of. The dress was lavender with a diaphanous gold printed pattern. The shoulders held metalwork chains in a bee-hive design, the same as the belt.

"Did you see the dress Xaro had made for you?" Doreah asked, lifting the lavender dress. "They say he's the wealthiest man in Qarth."

"It is known," Irri agreed.

"And if Qarth is the wealthiest city in Essos –"

"The last time a rich man gave someone a dress, he was selling Daenerys to Khal Drogo," I stated, touching the fabric.

How Magister Illyrio bought two wedding dresses for Daenerys. The first gown was a Pentoshi silk gown for the viewing. Another in a Valyrian style for the wedding.

"May they ride forever through the night lands," Irri prayed.

I sighed, giving a prayer of the Seven. I should not speak ill of the dead. I did not agree to the arrangement between Daenerys and Khal Drogo initially. But over time, Khal Drogo proved himself. He had done so much for Daenerys and me when women in the Dothraki culture were second-class citizens. No man laid a hand on us and forced themselves on us while he was still alive.

"Xaro is our host, but we know nothing about him," I said, then looked at Doreah. "Men like to talk about other men when they're happy."

Doreah chuckled and nodded, getting the hint. Xaro Xhoan Daxos couldn't just be an honorable man. I have a feeling there is more than he is letting on. Especially with all the gifts and gowns. I believe Doreah, in her knowledge of the art of conversation, can retrieve some information.

"You would look like a real queen in Xaros's—"

"She's not a queen," Irri snapped. All eyes were on her, surprised since she was the quiet one in the group. She sighed, "You should wear it, Alysanne. You are their guest. It would be rude not to."

Irri was about to leave, yet I placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She was confused until I gave her a hug. The last few months have been hard on all of us. Daenerys was gone. Jhiqui decided to stay with the Khalasar. All that Irri had was Rakharo. She has been through a culture shock. Irri was once a daughter to a Khal, who was destroyed by Khal Drogo, only to be bought by Viserys and placed as a handmaiden to Daenerys. Later on with me. She accepted the Dothraki way of life, and the Great Stallion has been good to her on where her path has led until now.

She is here because Rakharo challenged Jhaqo and Pono to protect Rhaego. Jorah and I plan to head to the west, far away from the Dothraki Sea, for Rhaego's safety. And the price…is giving up the Dothraki way of life. I will make sure Rhaego knows of his paternal history…but his lifestyle will be more westerner. That means Irri and Rakharo will have to change their lifestyles to adapt.

"We all shall," I murmured, gesturing for Doreah to grab the other dress.

There were many selections of gowns. Doreah picked up a bronze color silk gown. She brought it over and pressed it along Irri's shoulders.

"This one will make your skin glow," Doreah murmured. "And maybe we brush out your hair."

"And add a woven belt," I added. "And maybe a leather necklace."

"No, you are a guest, not me." Irri tried to argue with a slight blush from all the attention.

"We are friends," I reminded. "You two are not bound to me."

Doreah nodded in agreement. We are working together in survival. Maybe it's hard for them to break their handmaiden duties for as many years. But they do not serve me, and I do not own them.

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