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'Thoughts'

"Speech"

"Spells."

&Parseltounge&

#Valyrian#

*Dothraki*

303 A.C

They had travelled again. Only this time, Harry was free to do almost anything he pleased. But he kept to himself - having very little understanding of the Dothraki religion or how the society worked - he learned that it was the best way not to be bothered the hard way. Harry had offered a woman some water, and looking back at it, he should've felt something was off.

She wore some clothing, but her breasts and ass were exposed - and she had some blue painted marking on her skin. The woman was all over him the next moment, pulling at his pants and messaging his crotch. He pushed her off him, but the next moment he was fighting another Dothraki that was screaming at him. Of course, he had no idea what the man was saying.

He somewhat easily disposed of the Dothraki and got away from the woman - having no interests in involving himself in another fighter. The translator, Jhakho, told him that the man had most likely assumed that Harry was fucking the woman, and he was interested in doing the same. So he planned to kill him before proceeding to do so. Harry thought that was one hell of a stupid reason to die.

Harry was always either with Jhakho or by himself since then. Even then, the only reason he sat with the Dothraki was that he was the only one that could translate the Dothraki tongue for him.

The only reason he was still here was that of Daenerys. They had travelled to Vaes Dothrak, and they shoved her into the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen where all widows of the Dothraki Khal's resided and also where the Khalar Vezhven - a great gathering of all the Dothraki Khalasars - took place. The widows also oversee the religion of the Dothraki, advise the Khal's, and administrate Vaes Dothrak.

The Khal's had already assembled the following night. He'd seen her being forced back into the Temple by the Dosh Khaleen; he assumed they were most likely deciding on her fate. He was at a loss on what to with Daenerys. He had no idea how he was going to help her at all. Harry decided to be closest he could be to her and spent most of his day sitting on the riverbank of the water stream near the temple, he understood that, however, was still doing nothing at all.

He noted that it was a secluded place, the Dothraki rarely came here - and he understood why they much preferred to drink wine than water, especially in this sort of atmosphere. Because of that, Harry asked Jhakho to teach him how to ride a horse. The Dothraki didn't seem surprised at all at the request and complied without much complaint.

#Sit back if you want her to slow down# The Dothraki said, #Use your weight# Harry had learned most of what he needed to in a few hours. Walking, running, turning and even jumping. He struggled a bit when it came to stopping, surprisingly, it was something he assumed would be the most natural step. But for him at least, it was a problem.

For some reason, riding disappointed him. He expected it to be more thrilling - he assumed his heart would race and his blood to pump in ears. It felt slow, even though he knew it moved a lot faster than he could go on foot, #I'm stopping. I'll try again tomorrow#

Jhakho nodded, silently watching Harry dismounted, #It's time we find two bitches to fuck and drown ourselves with wine#

#I don't understand your fascination with all that.#

#I don't understand your negligence of some of the greatest things in life. The women here throw themselves at you - something I don't grasp because you're not that appealing to look at - but you deny them your cock? Then there's your distaste for drinking#

#That's your way of living. Not mine,# Harry shrugged, gesturing for him to take his horse.

#You'll die a virgin, foreigner. You'll never understand the pleasure of seeing a woman naked for the first time,# The Dothraki mounted the horse.

#I can't regret what I don't understand,# Harry said, making the man shake his head before jabbing on the horses' side, rushing back into the busy city. He unfastened his waterskin from his side, taking a quick drink before sitting down with a grunt, refocusing on the Temple in front of him. He wondered what her fate would, and if he should start preparing to leave without her.

That certainly would be a setback. Perhaps the dragon would listen to him? He was confident he could liberate his home with the help of a dragon. His thoughts were stopped when he saw flames erupt on the side of the building. He released a breath through his mouth and stood up, hearing the screams and running towards the Temple entrance, which was on the side he couldn't see from the riverbank.

The fire spread quickly. Already engulfing the entire building by the time Harry was near the entrance. The people were gathering around the Temple as it collapsed, all of them recognising the futility of even trying to put them out. Harry didn't see any way for her to survive that... If she had, he could try healing her with his magic.

He could feel the heat it emitted from here.

The doors of the Temple collapsed.

He waited silently, as did the everyone else. He didn't know what he expected if he was truthful. He didn't know what they expected. His eyes widened when Daenerys herself stepped out, naked and unburnt. He could hear all the people behind him get on their knees, but he stood - unmoving. She was immune to fire. Quite the gift to have, considering she had a dragon, he supposed.

She was unique, but he wasn't going to bow. Partially because she had a body, he was confident many men would kill just to get a glimpse of. And he now had it in full display in front of him

But mainly because he wanted to know if she was as unique as he was.

The next morning, Harry stood behind Daenerys, between the two other men, both of whom he remembered seeing in the Pits. It was apparent that they had tracked them here, and helped Daenerys with killing the Khal's by keeping the doors shut. Now she had an army of Dothraki, coupled with the Unsullied that awaited her return at Meereen. He doubted anyone in Westeros had a bigger army.

She was quietly looking back into the city - only turning to them a moment later. Or rather, the man to Harrys' left, "I banished you, twice. You came back, twice. And you saved my life," She paused as if expecting a retort from the man. She continued walking towards him, "So I can't take you back. And I can't send you away."

"You must send me away," He stepped back, and the one in leather clothing next to Harry took one forward - as if to prevent her from stepping any closer to him. The man pulled up his yellow sleeve.

'What the fuck is that?' Harry thought, taking a step away from him. The skin on his forearm looked dead, it was cracked and flaking, and stone-like in appearance.

"Is there a cure?" Daenerys questioned. Harry could see she was holding back tears. Did the man genuinely mean that much to her?

"I don't know."

"How long does it take?" She continued.

"I don't know that either. But I've seen what happens when it goes far enough. I'll end things before then," He responded, and that seemed to do it for Daenerys

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," A single tear slipped down her cheeks.

"Don't be sorry. All I've ever wanted was to serve you... Tyrion Lannister was right. I love you," He stopped, before continuing, "I'll always love you. Good-"

Harry coughed, stopping what was a rather awkward confession for him was. Strangely enough, he regretted speaking before he even uttered a word, "Can we not just cut your arm off before it spreads?" The two men seemed surprised at his use of the common tongue.

"No. It will just start again somewhere else, "The other man, who had been quiet the entire time, answered. Harry nodded silently. A few heartbeats passed before the infected man spoke again.

"Goodbye, Khaleesi," He turned, walking away.

"Do not walk away from your queen, Jorah the Andal," She stopped him in his tracks, walking closer to him once again, "You have not been dismissed... You pledged yourself to me. You swore to obey my commands for the rest of your life," Jorah gave a curt nod, "I command you to find a cure, wherever it is. I command you to heal yourself. And then return to me. When I take the Seven Kingdoms, I need you by my side."

He was silent, for a moment before nodding once again, "Yes, Khaleesi," He turned back, continuing to walk down the hill.

When he was out of sight, the Targaryen steeled herself and turned to Harry, "And you. You didn't leave."

"Did you want me to?"

"I expected you to," She answered. Her eyes were slightly red from crying.

"I remember saying I needed you," Harry put in.

"Was that after you made it clear that I needed you for protection?"

"No, rather, it was before I gave you water and... Helped you with your back," Harry retorted, mentally questioning the change in attitude. But he continued, "...Did they hurt you anymore?"

She was quiet momentarily, before responding, "They did not."

"Can you keep my abilities to yourself?"

"I'll consider it. If you tell me about them."

"My father called it magic," They rode a bit further away from the Dothraki, and Daario, her advisor. Who seemed rather interested in the subject himself

"Magic? Like the magic of the North or The Warlocks of Qarth?"

"I know nothing about The Warlocks of Qarth. But my father nearly punished me once, when I compared what I have to Northern magic," He shook his head, "No. It isn't the same. It's entirely different; he made sure I understood that."

"Did he explain how?" The Queen inquired.

"No, at least not in detail. The only thing I know about it is that the last person to have it was Ignotus Peverell, a long time ago," Harry explained, "And that it's a bloodline limit, so it's limited to me and my ancestry. Or it would've been if others before me had it."

"Is it limited to healing?"

Harry shrugged, "Maybe? As I said, I don't know a lot about it. Even the healing hasn't worked on anyone else but me before you. I don't even know how I do it, myself. All I understand is that it takes a great deal of concentration, and a strong desire to stop the pain. From there... My magic follows."

She nodded in understanding, "It's odd. The most interesting part about your house isn't what it's known for."

Harry hummed in agreement, "They were more interested in us being able to talk to reptiles than anything else."

A silence followed. Harry wondered if it was only limited to healing. And if it wasn't, what other things could he do? What sort of spells would he be able to do? The prospect of getting a better understanding of his abilities excited him. Having no one to teach him, he'd have to educate himself. If it was even possible, it would take a long time master his magic.

"Why did you help me?"

"Excuse me?" His attention went back to her.

"As much as you believed you needed me, you truly didn't. You could've returned to Meereen or any of the free cities, smuggled yourself onto a boat going to Westeros. Why did you decide not to abandon me?"

He recognised the unspoken question. What do I owe you? He conceded that she was right, he could've just left. What did he want? Nothing was the first thought that came to mind. He indeed didn't need anything from her. Not even gold. He didn't also want her arm. He'd come to realise that he couldn't force people to be loyal to him. He would return home and hope the lords of the Snowfields still retained their loyalty, "I haven't an idea if I'm truthful. It just felt like the right thing to do. To stay. To help you."

"And now what? What happens when we get to Meereen?"

"I go back to Westeros. There's nothing for me in Meereen," He replied, and she nodded in understanding, "I have a question for you. How do your dragons even exist?" Harry adopted a frown.

She looked forward onto the path they were taking, before starting to go through a summarised explanation of how she had acquired the dragon eggs - briefly mentioning the Khal she had been forced to marry, but ended up loving - and continuing onto how she burned his body on the pyre, where she had also place the dragon eggs. How she walked into the burning pyre herself, to become Mother of Dragons when the fire had burnt out.

By the end of it, Harry wanted to ask how many pairs of clothing she's lost because of her immunity to fire. But he held his tongue, "You're an interesting woman," He noticed the ghost of a frown when he turned to her, "And now, you want to take back the Iron Throne?" he asked, enticing a nod from the Targaryen, "You have my support. As insignificant as that is currently."

"You're right, it is insignificant," She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, " But I'm sure you can rectify that."

"I'll make sure I do," He added, his eyes narrowing. He honestly hoped she didn't assume he was going to bend the knee.

She furrowed her eyebrows suddenly, looking straight ahead towards the curvature on the path, "Tell the rest of them to wait here, with you," She suddenly took off on her horse, something that confused Harry - but he made no effort to go after her. He doubted she would just decide to go ahead for no valid reason. He stopped his horse when he noticed Daario the rest of Khalasar speeding towards him.

"Where is she going?" Daario stopped next to him.

"No idea. She just took off and told me to wait.," Harry responded, the sellsword nodded.

"Who-" A loud screech interrupted him.

"How did she even manage to get him? Was he following us all this time?" Harry whispered to himself. Another screeching sound sent his horse into disarray, forcing him to calm it down. The shadow of Drogon passed through the Khalasar, only then did Harry turn to the sky. Drogon's shriek overshadowed the neigh of the unsettled horse. He flew over and nearby hill, turning around to land in front of the Khalasar, and him.

She then proceeded to give what he assumed was a speech, the roaring of the Khalasar and her use of the Dothraki tongue confirming his thoughts. He turned to the black and red scaled dragon, noting that it was significantly larger than it was at Meereen. He was also fully healed. As if sensing his gaze, its giant head turned to him - but the Queen atop him took no notice, continuing her speech.

&Greetings.& Drogon hissed silently, intent on not interrupting his mother. Harry nodded gently. &You still live, speaker? I had come to save you and mother. But mother conquered them before I could burn them all. Unfortunately.&

The last Potter frowned, so it had been trailing them. That was not what concerned him, however, why it was so important to the dragon that he was a parseltongue did. Drogon had no old dragon that could have told him the 'value' of the ability if it held any at all. But based on recent events, it was prominent enough to the dragon that it had taken him with Daenerys in Meereen. And it continued to include him when it thought of saving his mother from the Dothraki.

Harry remained quiet, deciding to question the dragon on the issue some other time. The Dothraki whooped the loudest as Daenerys ended her speech, Drogon giving out another screech Harry could not translate with them.

"She's a remarkable woman, isn't she?" Daario commented from next to him.

Harry nodded, "She is."

"You say you were with her since you left Meereen?" The sellsword asked, enticing a nod from the boy, "How did you survive the Dothraki?"

"I've been fighting for my life in the Pits of Meereen since I was eight. I know how to fight."

"I was being trained to be a Pit fighter from the age of twelves," Daario put in, "Had my first fight at age sixteen."

"Trained? I thought we only trained after our first battle. And even then, it was just another excuse for us to kill the weaker fighters a few days before we entered the arena to make things more interesting," Harry scowled.

"The sport was turning more into entertainment for them than a way of making money," He shrugged, "But I imagine it must have been thrilling for you when you realised you were better than everybody else."

Harry's eyes widened before he grimaced, "Thrilling? No. I won't lie and say I wasn't relieving when I figured out I learned faster than most of them because I understood that it increased my chances of living as long I as I could. But I didn't want to kill; I would've even spared the ones that wanted to kill me if I could. I knew I couldn't."

He felt the man stare at him for a moment, "Here - or anywhere really - that sort of thinking would get you killed. Sparring your enemies always comes back to bite your ass."

"I'll ride ahead, try to get to Meereen faster. I'm leaving command of the Dothraki to you Daario," Daenerys voice stopped a retort from Harry.

"My Queen," The sellsword nodded, an odd smile plastered on his face. She nodded at both of them, before taking off on her dragon - Drogon screeching as they lifted into the air, "I noticed you don't have a weapon."

Harry bobbed his head, "Vaes Dothrak prohibited them."

"Sword or Akrah"

"Sword."

"They want us back" Harry said to himself, the wind that came with the running of his horse and the war cries of the Dothraki behind him making his voice sound faint. He could see the smoke the rising off into the sky; they were close. He'd be lying if said that it wouldn't satisfy him seeing the city burn, but unfortunately, the loss of lives that came with it diminished any joy he would have possibly gotten from the situation.

Then there was the possibility of him losing his freedom once again. Something he was going to make sure wouldn't happen. There were thousands of Dothraki behind him. It should be more than enough to repel the attack. Then there was Daenerys and her dragons.

They went around a hill before the city gates came into view. People were being killed near the gates by the Sons of Harpy. At that point, he understood this would be the first battle of this scale he would partake in - Harry cut half the neck off of a Son he had gotten close to on his horse, continuing to kill as many of them as he could as he made his way into the city.

The Dothraki split up as soon as they got into the city, taking up different routes and Alleyways to clear them of their Queens enemies," Travel straight. We have to get to the Temple. Daenerys could be there," Daario told him.

"No. She's taking care of the fleet with her Dragons," Harry retorted, cutting the arm off one of the Harpies.

"How do you know that?" The sellsword frown. Harry shrugged, having no answer to that question himself. Harry split off with his own division of Dothraki, continuing to kill more of the Sons of Harpies as he went on his way. As he continued on, he noticed a group of men fighting off the Harpies - which was strange, because they were neither Dothraki or Unsullied.

They became more frequent as he went down the street. Soon the street opened up, and he came face to face with a stone building with a staircase leading up to it, fire cauldrons etching the sides of the path. There was more fighting around it, and these unknown warriors seemed to be defending the structure itself. Harry didn't know why, but he decided to help - it was still part of the city.

They charged forward, decapitating all the Sons of Harpies in their path. They outnumbered them; Harry was sure he no less than five-thousand Dothraki with him already. This would be easy.

It happened so fast; even he barely registered it. A dagger lodged itself into his horses head - the horses didn't also give out a cry of pain as it fell forward, throwing Harry into the stairs at high speeds. His shoulder was the first part of his body to hit the floor, and he heard a loud 'CRACK', but it did not stop there, his figure slid on the floor fast, his back, along with his head - hit the base of the stairs of the stairs that led up to the structure the warriors were protecting.

He felt excruciating pain. His vision went hazy and his eye prickled with tears. Someone shouted in a loud voice; he couldn't figure who - and he blurry silhouettes surrounding him.

His world went dark.

A/N: We begin diverging more from canon next chapter.

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