Here's a new one. Have fun!

"Why are you here?" Jon adjusted his mentor's arm around his neck so that he'd be more comfortable and not in pain. Just when he thought that he'll never see her again, she appeared during his least expected time.

"I shall explain later, right now we must bring your friend to rest," Kinvara waved her hands and some of the ladies around her helped bring their satchels. And at that, the Red Priestess walked the other way with Serra, both ladies looked like they were catching up on what was going on as friends.

"This way, good Ser," one of the ladies said in a rather flirting way that made him uncomfortable, her hands seducingly snaked towards the muscles in his arms the way Dany did, but he tried to ignore it. She tugs him gently, "You may stay up here."

"Thank you," he tried his best to hide his discomfort. He carefully walked upstairs with Grey Worm while still carrying Ser Barristan, the old man grunted in pain but was still unconscious.

The room they were given is as big as their room back at Illyrio's, though they had two beds provided. Grey Worm and Jon placed Ser Barristan on the nearest bed, some of the ladies walked in with healing supplies and soup for Ser Barristan. The ladies began changing his bandages and applying ointments on his body.

The other lady approached Jon, "I shall bring food for your other friend, but you will have dinner with Lady Kinvara. She is delighted to discuss something with you."

Jon nodded, and turned to the centaur shifter, "Please stay and watch him, I must speak with the Lady of this house. They will bring your food here."

Grey Worm nodded and walked towards the other bed and watched the ladies tending to Ser Barristan's wounds carefully like a hawk. At that moment, Jon knew that they will be safe under his watch.

He then quietly left the room and walked downstairs, going to the other room to what it looks like a dining room where Kinvara and Serra disappeared to. When he arrived there, the dining room is already filled with a simple table, not too big and not too small, filled with food. Crabs, steak, and bread. They smell delightful that it made his stomach churn, "Come, my prince," Kinvara said warmly, "You must be famished after all the ordeals, we shall eat together."

Jon nodded, unable to resist. He can trust her, right? After all, she was the one who examined Dany and gave them a place to stay. At least, that's what he believed. The food didn't smell like it's been poisoned as well. He sat next to her.

Kinvara took a piece of bread and tore it, "Serra told me what happened," she ate a few pieces of the torn bread, "I'm sorry for the loss of the trade's man."

He nodded, "That's alright," he took his bread and ate it, "I just need to get Dany back now and kill the one who did this to us," his voice was mixed with anger, his knuckles turning white.

"My prince, I understand your desire for vengeance. But the Dothrakis are powerful tribes, and they are most likely on their way to Vise Dothrak. Perhaps they have already gone further."

"Then I'll travel there too," Jon said, "I'll fly if I must," he had practised gliding before, he is confident the dragon in him is ready to take a real flight.

"You may, however, as I said, the Dothrakis are powerful tribes. Seeing that they took Lady Daenerys, there's a likely chance that the Dothraki leader, Khal Drogo, wants her."

The fist that holds his bread clenched, ruining the bread in his hand, "Why? The deal with Viserys is long off!"

"True, but who is to say that their leader still wants her?"

He gritted his teeth, "They have no right."

"That's not how their culture works, my prince. For them, the strong will be victorious, the weak is trampled," she said as she took a piece of steak and chewed it, "You must face their tribe leader if you want her back."

"Then I'll do just that," he growled, "I must go now if I am to catch up with them."

"My prince, stay calm. You cannot just go yet, you are in no condition for travel or fight yet…"

"Spare me the lecture," Jon looked at her with irritation and his voice was deeper than ever, the similar way he did to Robb. For a while, he felt guilty for cutting her off like that. But the feeling of anger took over his heart and he couldn't control it.

Kinvara was stunned for a moment, but instead of feeling intimidated by the White Wolf, she looked somewhat delighted. A small smile crept upon her lips, "I will never do what you do not want to do, my prince. However, I want you to be ready for the fight."

"You are going to teach me to fight?" he asked a Red Priestess here, teaching him how to kill. Let alone the highest member of a tribe.

"No, but I am going to teach you how to survive," she smirked, "For instance, to stay here first until the time is right to travel."

Jon frowned at her remark, "That's not teaching me…."

"Reckless and irrationality can lead you to your own demise, my prince," she said, "And you can't travel alone, not when the Dothrakis have no idea about the tongue you use. They can't speak Valyria nor common tongue."

"What? Now you want to teach me Dothraki tongue too?"

"No, but I believe I know the person who knows it. He's an exile like you," she chewed another piece of steak.

His eyes widened, "Ser Jorah?"

"He's been here for quite a while, I believe he had conversed with them in the past."

"But why?"

"That is something that you must ask him yourself," she said calmly and took another piece of bread, "But right now, it's no use for you to travel now. And Lady Daenerys will be fine, otherwise, they wouldn't take her. It's getting late, and you do not want to meet late night shifters, my prince. They are not quite friendly at night, and it's no use to consume your energy for unnecessary targets. You may form a strategy tomorrow morning."

Jon gritted his teeth, feeling frustrated that she was right. As much as he wanted to go after Dany and get her back, it won't do him any good. Behemoths, as far as he can remember learning about them, are incredibly strong. With the little strength left after work, it won't do him any good. He nodded, "I understand."

"Excellent," Kinvara smiled, "You are going to have to get your rest, my prince. The battle with Behemoths is something Essos have never seen before."

Her words sent shivers down his spine, for those words were last said to him by another Priestess. Just what exactly do they want with him and Dany?

"Best you eat, my prince," Kinvara pointed to his barely eaten steak with her fork, "It won't be good if it's cold."

As if he could eat when a thousand scenarios and questions occupied his mind.

She could somehow sense his distress, and sighed, "I suppose you won't eat until you voice the questions in your mind to me?"

"Aye," he murmured before looking at her in anger. He had had enough with so many obstacles in their way, and he doesn't want to see things getting any harsher. Not when he is expecting his cubs, "Why me? Why us?" he said, "What did I ever do wrong in my life?" he said, "I never wanted a throne nor land to conquer, and I still don't. I never wanted to make a pack but family. What do I have to do to achieve peace for me and my family?"

Kinvara looked at him carefully as she slowed down her chewing, her red eyes showing him empathy. She swallowed her food, "I understand your distress…."

"No, you don't," he snapped, "All you ever do is follow whatever gods you are following. Well, tell your God to pick someone else for the job. Not me, or Dany. I just want to live in peace, what's so hard about that?"

The Red Priestess wasn't shaken by his anger and frustration, as if expecting his outburst. She sighed, "Do you see, Jon Snow? Or should I say, Aegon Targaryen?" That name made him stunned, her red eyes did not look like she wanted to retort back. She only warmly smiled, "This is why it has to be you."

"Enough riddles already," he growled.

"Even you must know you are unusual," her red eyes began to glow, the same way they did when he saw the python in his dreams. He was startled when the candle lights lighting the room began flickering dimly and nearing putting the fire out, the hair behind his neck began to stand. The Priestess leaned forward, and the shadows behind her began to grow and shifted into what it looks like a shape of a serpent, "Not quite a wolf, not quite a dragon. Or neither! Or both." Her voice became darker and menacing, it's as if Melisandre was talking to him again.

Jon leaned back on his chair, unable to move.

"I think we can both agree, Jon Snow. That you are something Essos have never seen before," she said with a slight touch of hiss.

"How did you…." he was unable to finish his sentence as her words were still ringing in his head, terror clouds his mind on the day the python slithered menacingly at him. And it's happening again now with Kinvara.

"What's done is done, my prince," she finally said, her voice returning to normal, the candle lights glowed back to life softly and lighting up the room. "We all go through life differently, and we all have our own problems. What matters now is that you are fit for travel to bring back Daenerys."

He was unable to say anything but nod, feeling a little naïve for the outburst, "I…." he became silent.

"I am not a messenger for you on how to run your life from my god, nor did they tell me about her capture. I was only told that you will arrive. But why, I did not know it until you came to me," she said, "It's no use complaining about what is the past, my prince. We all have our own destinies to fulfil, and we must keep moving forward. Time does not wait for anyone."

Jon finally popped a piece of meat in his mouth and chewed, "I just want to live peacefully, that's all."

"Well, perhaps you could see to that someday," Those same words that Ser Barristan said all those moons ago made him startle.

"Ser Barristan said that," he murmured as he took another meat.

"Did he?" she said in amusement, but he guessed that she knew it long ago, "Well then, perhaps we saw something in you that no one had ever seen before."

He scoffed, "And that is?"

"You are unusual, Jon Snow," she said, "Whether you want to embrace that or not, is entirely up to you."

Dany lay on the bed that she would be sharing with Khal Drogo in concern. Missandei was taken to a different tent so that their tribe leader would be with Dany, and now she is alone while waiting for Khal to come back to the tent.

When they took her to him, he was rather disappointed that he could not take her yet for her belly won't support her nor her health, as to what their servant said. This may mean that he would take her rather roughly, now she's grateful that she's pregnant.

She missed Jon so much. It has been so long since she felt so alone, and now, she's back to where she was all those years ago before the Northern pack took her. The dragon ghosted her hand to her belly, wanting to feel that she was not alone. She hopes that their kicking is not a sign of distress for them as she is now. How can she escape here when she can't shift?

"Khaleesi," a female called outside, she found that they would call her that often times since she came here, "may I come in? I have food for you."

She sat up, "Yes, please come in."

The tent entrance flapped open, revealing to be the servant who somewhat saved her from being raped by Khal Drogo. She has a bowl in her hands, and whatever content it is inside made her mouth water, "I'm Doreah, Khaleesi. The Khalasar instructed me to bring you food," Her accent was strange but her tongue is rather well-educated.

She guessed that she meant that Khalasar meant their tribe leader. She nodded, "Thank you, Doreah. You may put it on the table and go."

Doreah placed the bowl on the table and approached her, extending her hand, "Let me help you, Khaleesi."

She shook her head, trying to stand up, "I'm fine…" but just as she stood up, her head became dizzy and she nearly stumbled. Her pregnancy has taken a toll on her, it seems that her twins are more active today.

Luckily, Doreah's reflex was fast as she caught both her arms to steady her, "I think it's best I stay here until you finished eating. Just in case."

Dany had no choice but to comply to her suggestion, she have not been feeling well since her capture. If anything happens to the cubs, she could never forgive herself. Jon would be upset too, and that's the last thing she wants to do, "Alright."

The tribe servant gave her a warm smile and took the bowl again, "While you are pregnant, I recommended the hunters to serve you rabbit stew. It will give strength for your child and you," she sat beside her and gave the bowl to her.

"Thank you," she took the bowl, and it already smells wonderful. Chunks of brown meat peaked out of the surface of the stew. As she tasted the stew, it was wonderful. "It's good," she said genuinely, wanting to avoid trouble.

"The Khalasar cares for your health, Khaleesi. So, it's best to finish them all."

This made her a little irritated at that first statement. After swallowing her food, she looked at him, "But why?" Doreah looked confused as she cocked her head, "I mean, why did care about me? Why did he attack us? As you can see, I have a husband already, and his children are in my belly. Why did your leader want me and kill our caretaker?"

The tribe servant sadly shook her head and looked down, "I do not know. I am only a bed slave here, Khaleesi. So, I don't have the luxury to know such information of this," she said sadly, "But to be strong, for us, we must take. Perhaps that is why he wanted you."

"But why?" she asked desperately, "Why did he want me? I don't know him."

"From what I heard, you were once a promised gift by a royal stranger in exchange for armies," she said, the memories of Viserys telling her that she will be a slave to Khal Drogo gave her the creeps of fear again, "But to know that that promise was broken when we heard his passing, he was rather disappointed and angered that his gift could never come."

"And that's why he wanted me?" She nodded, "But how did you find us? We were so careful."

"About moons ago, I don't remember when our scouts found a rather strange creature with a white pelt on the coast of Pentos. He was like a dog, but larger and with red demon eyes. At least, that's what he told us."

Jon, Dany gulped nervously, "But why were you all in Pentos?"

"Scoutings for enemies, Khaleesi," she said, "Our Khalasar must establish their dominance, he must be careful of possible threats. That's why we must be aware of the lands."

"But still, in Pentos?" Why would the Dothrakis travel from Vaes Dothrak to Pentos?

"Our scouts followed the white dog to see off any threats from him, and when they followed him, they spotted you. A lady with silver hair, just as we were told seasons ago," she said, "Our leader probably thought that the tradesman was deceiving us, so he ordered the attack."

Dany's eyes widened, so they attacked because of her? But why her?

Just as she was about to press further, the tent entrance flapped open rather roughly. Both ladies were startled by the sound and when they turn, they found themselves face to face with the very tribe leader, Khal Drogo. He is way more muscular than Jon, but his face was fierce. Way fiercer than any shifters she had ever seen.

Doreah stood up and bowed. She then looked back at her sadly, "I'm sorry," and at that, she scurried out of the tent and left her to be alone with the tribe leader, who still eyed her like prey.

Dany mustered all her courage to be brave in front of this….whatever they are. She remained silent while still looking at him, but backed away to the end of the bed, she was careful as she still has the bowl of stew in her hands. The Khal sat on the bed, still looking at her…..gently. "No," and his long arm stretched to stop her from going any further from him.

She blinked, none of the Dothrakis here except Doreah and Missandei, could speak the common tongue. It seems that it's the same goes with him, "What?"

"No," he said. Squeezing her hand gently, then he pointed to her bowl.

Dany looked at stew and back at him, "Do you want it?"

"No," he said again.

"Is that the only tongue you know?" she asked.

"No," yes, it is then. She remembered that Khal wants her to eat, perhaps he meant that she is to eat her food. She looked back at him, he only tilted his chin up, as if telling her to proceed. What a strange creature, she thought as she quietly ate her stew while he stared at her in….admiration?

After eating her stew, the Khal threw the bowl across the tent and pulled her in his arms. Dany was afraid that he would rape her there and then. Instead, he only laid her down on the bed and held her as he closed his eyes.

Dany, feeling dumbfounded by this gentle giant, looked at him in confusion. Just what is he trying to do? She made a silent prayer that Jon and Ser Barristan would be safe. My love, I hope you are still out there.

"Are you better, Ser Barristan?" Jon asked the next day as they were about to break their fast together. It's so strange and aching without Dany by his side.

He nodded, still having a bandage on his forehead and a cast on his left arm, "I can't say I can fight for a while now."

"It's fine, I can protect us all. And so does Greyworm," he looked at his colleague who is enthusiastically eating his food. Perhaps it's because it's more exotic than what Illyrio usually provided, but he is glad that his team member was given proper food to eat. In Winterfell, lowly people like him weren't given such luxury. If it weren't for his father, he would never know such luxury.

"Don't be overconfident, boy," he warned him again, just as he did back in his training with him.

"Fine," he grunted, "So, what do we propose we do now? Track the Dothrakis?"

He shook his head, "I have a feeling that Ser Jorah may have been friends with our fellow Dothrakis. He might give us clearer directions be our guide amongst the savages."

"How come?" Jon asked.

"He was supposed to be Daenerys's guard if she were to marry the Khal," his mentor said.

"What?" The White Wolf eye's widened in disbelief.

He nodded, "Ser Illyrio spoke to me about this before. However, because of Viserys's death, all of the offers were declined, so he took him into work on his spice businesses," he gnawed his bread, "I believe he may be able to speak Dothraki on our behalf."

Jon turned to Greyworm, "Do you know where Ser Jorah is?" he asked in Valyrian.

He swallowed his food before speaking, "Last I checked, my team, were tending to his wound. Perhaps they took him back to his house."

Jon nodded, "Perhaps we can speak to him after this." And the centaur shifter nodded.

After breaking their fast, the two shifters left the house in search of Ser Jorah. Greyworm insisted that Jon is to ride on his back as his white form might raise suspicions, he was hesitating at first but complied anyway. His Valyrian tongue is still limited, so arguing would not be of any use. They have enough trouble as it is already, and they need to work together.

"Thank you for your assistance to find Daenerys," Jon said as the Centaur galloped.

"I am not doing this for your wife," he said rather earnest.

"Then why did you help us?" he asked, why else would he be willing to help them?

"Missandei," he said, "She saved me from being another slave when the Master bought me, but I was given a better work than the rest. And for that, I owe her my life."

"I see," Jon hummed, it seems that he isn't the only one fighting for a loved one. It's amazing how this strong feeling could drive a motivation, "No matter, I am still grateful for your assistance."

Greyworm did not say anything else, nor did he nod.

Jon decided to say something, "We'll get Missandei back too," he reassured, "You have my word."

The centaur still remained silent for a while before he turned to his side. Still not seeing him, he uttered, "Thank you, Jon Snow."

The White Wolf nodded back, at least he got his trust now.

When the two men arrived at the house, which is not far from where the warehouse was, Jon is amazed that the place, where Jorah is staying, is rather crowded. The house was rather close to other houses with each other, and it was located in a small square, where children would play and adults would buy and sell. He would think that outsiders like him would need to lay down low to avoid suspicions, especially since he believed a white wolf like him with the obvious features of another race may arise suspicions in the city.

Apparently not in Essos. He wished he could implement whatever system they had in Westeros.

Greyworm walked towards the door and knocked, "Jorah."

There was no answer.

He pounded the door this time, "Jorah, we need to speak."

After some time, they can hear the sounds of chains rattling from inside, and then finally, the door swung open.

Reveals the beaten up and still recovering Ser Jorah. Unlike the Ser Barristan, it looks like the Dothraki did not take it easy on him. The former Mormont member grunted, "What is it that you want, Greyworm?" his Valyrian sounds rough but still fluent.

"We need to talk," As the centaur said this, he stepped aside for Jon to look at Jorah, and for Jorah to look at Jon.

Jorah looked like he had aged ten years older than the last time he saw him. His hair was a mess, and his clothes were rather shabby, just a simple brown shirt and trousers. Is he a shifter too? He can't tell.

"Jon Snow," Jorah finally said, crossing his arms, "I thought you were dead."

The White Wolf fumed, "What makes you say that?" his voice slipped into a rather deadly manner, which he did not know until Jorah's expression changed.

"It's best we come inside," he said and opened the door wider.

Greyworm entered first, and then Jon followed behind.

The house of Jorah Mormont is simple. Simpler than Illyrio. There's nothing exotic found, just everyday necessities objects such as a sofa and table and chairs. It was somewhat like his room back in Winterfell. "I don't usually have guests around," Jorah closed the door and walked towards the table and leaned his behind there, "so excuse the mess or its emptiness."

"We need your help, Ser Jorah," Jon said, cutting to the chase. He has no time to waste.

"And why do you need this old coot's help?" he snorted, he radiated an unwilling atmosphere from the very beginning and Jon was expecting this.

"Oh, please," The White Wolf shot back, "Ser Barristan is probably way older than you, and he can still fight."

"If it's spice barrels you are after, it's done…."

"It's not about that," Jon interrupted, "It's about Dany. Daenerys. My wife. The Dothrakis captured her, along with Missandei."

Ser Jorah stared at them both for a while and then shrugged, "That's unfortunate," he said casually as if nothing bad happened, "But it can't be done anymore. She was supposed to be with them in the first place anyway…"

"No," Jon growled, his fist clenched, and his anger slowly boiling. He will not be dismissed easily by the likes of him, "That damn deal was off with Viserys. They have no right to just take her, she is my wife."

"Dothrakis do not care of those things, boy. For them, the winner takes what they want and gives nothing back," he took a glass and drank from it, "She's a lost cause, boy. Leave it."

"I won't, and neither will Greyworm. For they took Missandei," at the sound of her name, Greyworm took a small step forward, looking as if he's trying to convince the man too.

He shrugged, "Again, not my problem."

"You have conversed with the Dothrakis in the past, and you were supposed to be her guardian," Jon immediately said, not wanting to start a fight, "You know where they are heading to?"

"Aye," he said, "Dothrakis tend to live in Vaes Dothrak. Somewhere far away, just northeast of here. It is their territory and for them, sacred grounds. Though I don't see why it's sacred anyways."

"Why would they come here if it's far away then?"

"I don't know," he scratched his head, looking rather bored, "Last I heard before, they were here for her for that deal. But after that, no more."

"But that deal was years ago," Jon was confused. Didn't Illyrio say that they would not want her again? Or rather, they won't ever come back here?

"Hard to say, I haven't seen a Dothraki for a while too. They come and go, as far as I know. But not all the time," he then furrowed his brows and crossed his arms, "Come to think of it, it's rare that they would come to Pentos. So why are they here?"

Jon's heart sank at that, he knew that they were all being careful all this time. There's no way anyone would know where they live. "Are you saying that someone told them about us?"

He looked at him with a serious stare, "Careful now, young prince. You are making a dangerous accusation."

"Well, did you?" Jon fumed, he can't think of anyone else who can rat them out. They have been very careful, there is no other way someone would know their location. And for the Dothrakis to come this far can't be just a coincidence.

"Now, why would I rat you all out to a tribe of savages? It's useless for me, I can't even go back to Westeros if I have them as my armies. I am an exile, remember?"

He wants to go back to Westeros just like him. Is that why he agreed to work with Illyrio before the deal was off? "You wanted to go home to Westeros. That's why you agreed to Viserys's deal," his voice became menacing again, unintentionally. But time is running out, and he must get back to Dany.

"Aye, I did. Is it wrong? Besides, you said for yourself that you are going back to your pack. Logically, why must I travel all the way to Vaes Dothrak and labour myself with them when you both were already my vouch back to Westeros?"

That made sense, if he were to return to Westeros, he can just join him and Dany. Then who?

"Jon Snow," Greyworm, who has been quiet for a while finally spoke up, "I do not know what you all are speaking about. But it's best we bring him to Barristan."

Jorah nodded, "That old man is alive?"

"Aye, he is. He's strong than you think," He will not let anyone look down on the mentor who had fought to protect him and Dany.

He shrugged, "Well then, I suppose that you want me to pay him a visit."

Jon shook his head, "No, I want you to lead us to where these Dothrakis go."

"What?" Jorah stood up in surprise.

"You are the only one we know who is familiar with these people, and if you know them, then we'll make better relations than to start a war."

Jorah stayed silent for a while, before he finally asked, "Are you aware of the consequences should you take her back? I am not going there, for I don't see anything for me."

"He took my wife," he growled darkly, it was as if Ghost emerged from him. He felt this sort of energy when he was in Ghost and when he first met Illyrio, "No matter what, I'll take her back. And you are going to lead me to them."

Jorah suddenly widened his eyes, looking shocked. He can see fear in them, the same reluctance to fight back when he fought back against Robb. But he saw more than just fear, it was a submission. If he has a tail, it'd be between his legs by now. And then, without hesitating, he finally nodded, "Very well, my prince. I shall go with you."

Jon was a little surprised by the sudden change of heart. Was it because of his determination? Or…."I think you could be something else than a wolf," he heard Dany's words in his head. He shook his head, now is not the time to ponder about that past, "Alright, we should go now. Can you shift?"

He shook his head, "I was stripped of my ability to shift the day I was exiled."

"I see, fine," He turned to Greyworm, "Perhaps I should shift into my form, and you can carry Ser Jorah on your back. Seeing that the square is crowded, it shouldn't be a problem for me to turn. No one will really take a look at me when they are busy."

"I would prefer otherwise," he said.

"No, but it'll be faster to leave earlier. I suspect that we will not come back here again for a while," With Illyrio gone, they must think of another way to live in Essos without protection. Was this what Dany felt when she had to run away her whole life?

Greyworm was hesitant about what he said but nodded anyway. "Sȳz."

Jon turned back to Jorah, "Alright, best you pack." He nodded and left the room to his room, the White Wolf decided to wait for him there in case he did anything fishy. He can't have anyone betraying them anymore, and he can't risk it.

Once Jorah appeared from the door of his room, he had a sack with him. It didn't look like he wrote a letter or anything suspicious, at least, from what he sees. He's going to have to keep an eye on him later on. He adjusted the rope of his pack on his shoulder before looking at him, "I'm ready."

Jon nodded, and walked towards the door, he can hear the former bear following him behind. When he opened the door, Greyworm is already in his centaur form.

"Never in my life did I have to ride one of you," Jorah said in Valyria.

"And that will be your last," he snorted back.

"Enough," Jon commanded, "We should go now," And at that, he shifted into his wolf form, he can feel eyes on him from strangers, Let's go. And as he said that, it was as if they were under his chain of command, Greyworm lifted himself in two legs and spurred forward behind Ghost. Whether the White Wolf noticed it or not, what matters now is to get back to where they reside to plan their next move.

"Well, I never expected that a prince would reside in such places like this," Ser Jorah remarked with a rather sarcastic tone that struck a nerve in Jon as they all arrived at the house. Greyworm, wanting Jorah to get off of him, immediately shifted back to his human form without warning. Jorah nearly dropped to his rear if he hadn't found his balance, he frowned at the centaur shifter but Greyworm didn't pay any mind and quickly went inside. The rest followed.

When Jorah looked inside and saw the prostitutes, he looked like he blanked out. "Is this really your place to hide?"

"No, but it is a place, someone who was gracious enough to let us stay," he said calmly. As he said this, the owner of the house appeared from the dining room with her usual red dress, walking gracefully.

At the sight of the Red Priestess, Jorah's eyes widened, "Why is she here?"

"Because this is one of my many nests, Ser Jorah of the Mormont clan," she answered in a monotone, her voice is near low to a hiss. Jon can see the former shifter's throat begin to bob, making the Red Priestess smirk, "What? Do you think just because we are the people of His holiness, we would not build such thing as this?" her arms spread to her ladies in some areas away from them, but still watching them closely. The ladies giggled in delight at their Lady's words, "Neither the less, you are all safe here in the meantime. No one will come looking for a place like this. Come along now, we have much to discuss," she waved at them as she turned away towards the dining room and the three men followed.

When they arrived at the Dining room, Ser Barristan is also there, sitting at the same spot they left them, except that it seemed that he is done with his meal. When the Old Knight saw them, he nodded to them all, "That was faster than I expected," he said.

Jon nodded, "We had an understanding."

Ser Barristan looked at Jon for a moment, his old eyes were trained just at him. It's as if he could look into his soul, finding his deepest darkest intentions, which made the young wolf gulp. After a while, the Old Knight turned his gaze to Ser Jorah, "I am grateful you are willing to come."

He shrugged, "What else can I do when my employer is dead."

"Well, we'll have to rethink after this," he said, "But right now, we are going to have to plan out how to get Daenerys as soon as possible."

Jon took a seat in front of his mentor, "I can track them down," he suggested, "They may have gone far, but huge clans like them should leave tracks that we can see." When he glanced at Kinvara beside Ser Barristan, she gave him a satisfied smile, but he paid no mind.

"And then you're just going to steal her away?" Jorah sat on the other side of the table.

He nodded, "Either that, or I'm going to have to kill him."

"A poor choice," Jorah leaned back on his chair.

"I beg your pardon?" Jon could feel that this man had no problem voicing his mind.

"Do you know the culture of the Dothraki clans?" he asked the people at the table, "Once they claim someone or something, it is theirs until someone dominates them."

"My wife isn't an object someone can just claim," Jon growled.

"My point is, if you were to steal her away, they will track you down too. They will not stop until they find you."

"Then I'll fight them if I must," he said, "I'm going to bring her back home to me."

"And do you know the consequences should you defeat him?"

Jon furrowed his brow, sensing that there is something behind this, "What are you talking about?"

"The Dothrakis follow the strongest, and they are immediately elected to be their leader in the process. If someone decided to challenge their tribe leader and won, that someone will be the new leader," Jorah explained.

The White Wolf's eyes widened at this revelation, "So that means….if I defeated the Khal Drogo in a fight, then I must…."

Jorah nodded, "Whether you like it or not, should you win against him, you will be their new leader," The former shifter then leaned his body to the table, resting his elbows on the table and stared into his eyes, as if looking for a determination and will, "So, what's it going to be, Dragon Prince? Are you ready to be the new leader of the Dothraki tribe?"

Sorry for the long wait, I made it a little shorter so it fits the chapter. I hope you like it! Let me know your thoughts!

Take care and stay safe!

Claire.