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A/N: Thanks to all those who followed, favourited and reviewed the story!
It had taken the Khalasar two weeks of hard riding to reach Qarth, two weeks of resting during the day and riding long into the night in order to avoid the unrelenting rays of the sun. Such a journey would have killed most men, but Rhaego's Khalasar had been fully prepared for it, with enough supplies to last them the journey, coupled with an unyielding loyalty from his men.
The journey was not without casualties however, when Aggo fell from his horse and would not rise again. When Rhaego saw his Ko fall he commanded his horde to stop and quickly jumped from his steed and went over to the downed man's side. He had looked up at Rhaego with a look of confusion and desperation, trying in vain to get back to his feet. But even Rhaego knew that it would be no good; Aggo was one of the oldest riders in his Khalasar and had protected Rhaego's mother after his father had died. The man had taught Rhaego how to use a bow and faithfully served as Bloodrider when Rhaego had left Pentos. And now he was dying.
"Forgive me blood of my blood, I…I can no longer ride, I-"
Rhaego had hushed him at that and instead squeezed the old man's hand. "You have served me well blood of my blood, you've done enough. Do not fear the Great Stallion; he is coming to take you to the stars to ride with your ancestors. Do you feel his embrace?"
The old man looked off, past Rhaego and nodded slightly as a smile came across his face and his eyes stared out unseeing as the life slipped from him. Rhaego said a silent prayer for the man and then closed his blank eyes, the faint smile still on the man's face.
Later that night Rhaego had his men build a funeral pyre for the man and stared intently into the flames as they consumed Aggo, just like they had consumed his father, just like they would consume him one day. He had been raised to believe in many things when he was young; the seven gods of his mother, the Great Stallion of his father's people, Jorah had even told him stories of the Gods of his homeland, the old trees of the north. Yet despite all of this he found that he wasn't sure if he truly had faith in any of it, life just seemed so random and at times cruel. Thoughts of morality and faith plagued him for much of his journey until he finally reached the walled city of Qarth.
Before they were even a mile from the great city Rhaego's Khalasar already seemed to attract the attention of the Qartheen and as they rode closer they could see that there was a greeting party ready to receive them. Rhaego felt a swell of anxiety in his stomach as he went to the noblemen that had amassed in front of the city gates, he knew that if he even said the slightest thing to offend them in any way the walls of Qarth would be closed to him forever and he and his riders would be doomed to die in the red waste. You have Illyrio's letter. That should appease the greedy bastards he reassured himself.
There were roughly twenty men of nobility standing in front of the Qarth gates, with at least double that amount of men standing guard by their sides. Rhaego, along with Jorah and his bloodriders rode up a few feet away from the men and then dismounted and gave the Qartheen a bow of respect as they approached. The Qartheen seemed pleasantly surprised by this and some even returned the gesture. Among the group a short fat man dressed in fine silks stepped out and bowed at Rhaego.
"Many greetings to you mighty Khal, lord of horses. What brings you and your Khalasar to the greatest city that is and ever was?" asked the man in a pompous tone.
Rhaego resisted the urge to laugh at the man's vanity but instead gave the fat man a smile and responded in the common tongue. "My name is Rhaego, and I have travelled a long way to visit your great city my lord."
The fat man laughed at that. "Oh I am no lord, young Khal. I am simply a trader of spices and one of the people tasked with keeping my city as great as it is. So I'll ask again, why are you here?"
Rhaego swallowed his anger and forced another smile as he pulled out the letter he had been carrying for weeks now and gave it to the fat man who cautiously took it and read over the contents, his beady eyes swiftly darting from one side of the page to the other. After a moment he looked up at Rhaego sceptically. "So you are in service to Magister Illyrio Mopatis?"
"Yes, I do all that the good Magister asks of Me." replied Rhaego in an even voice.
The fat man didn't seem to believe it. "A Dothraki savage in service of a Pentoshi prince, I have never heard of such a thing. If you are indeed one of his servants then tell me, what does he keep in the court of his manse?"
Without blinking Rhaego automatically answered, having grown up around that manse as a child he knew every detail of the place. "A statue of his likeness as a youth."
This seemed to please the fat man and a wiry smile crossed his obese features and he gave Rhaego a happy nod. "Yes he most certainly does, though only those close to him know that. You have convinced me young Khal." And then he turned back to the other nobles. "He has proof of who he says he is, and I will vouch for his entry."
The various members seemed to murmur amongst themselves for a time before they too agreed to allow Rhaego and his men to enter through the large gates into the oasis that lay within.
The Spice King, as he was known, had taken in Rhaego and his riders and allowed them to stay at his manse for a while before sending them back to Illyrio with his terms. The fat man had even thrown them a glamorous garden party which gave Rhaego the chance to mix and mingle with the upper class of Qarth and brought him ever closer to the man he was looking for; Xaro Xhaon Daxos. The man had apparently bought a dragon egg from Rhaego's mother in exchange for lodgings and the young Khal sought to take it back.
Rhaego was quite surprised by the manner in which the Qartheen dressed, particularly the women's tendency to leave one breast bare, causing him to feel a swell of desire as he spoken to many of the nobles, but he quickly smothered all of those thoughts and tried to focus on his goal of finding Daxos.
He had spent half the day conversing with a great number of nobles eager to hear about potential business deals he could help set up with Illyrio and he spent the other half devoted to keeping his men from stealing any of the gold around the manse. However after a time his patience was rewarded and he was greeted by a tall bald man with a milky skin and a jewelled nose; Daxos.
"Mighty Khal, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Xaro Xhaon Daxos, merchant and proud member of the Thirteen at your service. If there is anything that I can do to help you then please, let me know." said the man, his face spreading into a sickening smile.
"The pleasure is mine Xaro. Would you mind if we walked and talked? I have a business proposal for the thirteen that you might be interested in." replied Rhaego with a smile of his own.
The bald man grinned predatorily at that and gestured for him to walk, and the two slowly discussed trivial matters such as the amount of ships that the Thirteen could spare for voyage to Pentos and the amounts of silk and spices they could carry. This continued on for some time until they were out of sight from the other guests and Rhaego suddenly changed the conversation.
"I have something better than spice and silk to trade to you lord Daxos, and I'd only want something small in return." He said enigmatically.
The Qartheen was practically licking his lips at thought of Rhaego's offer, his greed getting the better of him. "I wonder, what could be more valuable than silk and spice? Gold? Valyrian steel?"
Rhaego leant forward and whispered in the man's pierced ear. "Your life."
Daxos stepped back and looked at the young Khal in confusion, but before he could speak Togo and Jakerhro grabbed the man harshly by his arms and forced him down onto his knees in front of Rhaego.
"Now, as I said. I am willing to give you your life provided that you return the dragon egg you stole from my mother all those years ago." said Rhaego in a grave voice.
Daxos however simply laughed at the young Khal and spat at his feet. "Even if you have the protection of Illyrio, you cannot get away with murdering a member of the Thirteen."
Rhaego smirked at the man's false assurance. "You're right; they'll likely kill the man who ends you. That's why Togo here is going to do it."
The merchant turned his head as best he could to the man holding him down and stared at him in confusion. Togo met his stare and gave him a toothy grin. "I would gladly die for the blood of my blood."
Rhaego now pulled out a dagger and held it under the Qartheen's chin. "You have only one choice. Now tell me where the egg is. I'll only ask once."
For a long moment it seemed that Daxos wouldn't answer him but eventually the fear of death was too much for the greedy merchant and he suddenly choked out "I don't have it anymore! I gave it to Pyat Pree!"
"Where can I find this Pyat Pree?" he half asked, half demanded.
"I-In the House of the Undying."
The merchant did take Rhaego and his bloodriders to the infamous House of the Undying, which, the young Khal thought a lot less fearsome than its name implied; merely a large grey ruin, bare of any towers or windows. It was surrounded by a thick grove of the most peculiar looking trees that Rhaego had ever seen; bark as black as soot with leaves that were an inky blue.
When they finally reached the entrance to the building they were greeted by a ghastly looking man who seemed almost a corpse; his face was a hollow mask with lifeless eyes and chalk white skin, yet the most striking feature of this man was his ink blue lips. Rhaego recalled hearing a story once that all Warlocks drank something called shade of the evening that slowly drove them mad and their lips blue. We must tread lightly with this creature. Magic or no, madmen are capable of anything…
Xaro Xhaon Daxos however didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. "Pyat Pree! It is most excellent seeing you again."
The corpse man however did not take his eyes off of Rhaego, who despite his best efforts frowned back at the creature with visible unease. It was as if the monsters from one of Rhaego's old bed time stories had come to life before him.
"On behalf of the warlocks of Qarth, welcome to the house of the undying, Stallion who mounts the world." The man's voice was oddly smooth.
"I have come-"
"We know what you have come for young horselord and by all means you can have it. All that you need to do is enter the House of the Undying and take it." replied the Warlock, cutting the young Khal off.
Rhaego fixed his gaze at the rotting building in front of him and simply nodded. The Warlock handed the young Khal a glass of inky blue liquid. "You must drink deep if want to see and hear the truths that will be laid before you."
Rhaego grimaced and gulped it down in one mouthful, leaving an ashy taste in his mouth and throat as it went down. He then made for the building in front of him, hoping that whatever he drank wouldn't relieve him of his senses. When Ser Jorah made to follow him, the warlock held up his hands in warning. "He who enters must enter alone or not at all." There didn't seem to be any malice in the warlock's voice, yet Rhaego still found himself feeling ill at ease with the man.
"Rhaego this is madness! Who knows what lies in there?"
The Khal grinned back at his protector. "I'll be alright Ser" his replied cheerfully "If by some chance I don't make it out then you can bring the warlock's head back to my Khalasar." And with a final glance back at his bloodriders and Ser Jorah he approached a door that appeared to be an oval mouth set in the wall fashioned like that of a human face.
"Remember young dragon you will see many things inside but you must stay on your path, to reach the Undying you must always take the first door on your right and always up the stairs, understand?"
"First door on my right and up the stairs." repeated Rhaego before taking a deep breath and entering into the mouth of the Undying.
The first room that Rhaego entered was a large circular shape with three large doorways. He felt a vague tingling sensation in his head and a deep shiver travelled along his spine, as if the air itself was tickling his skin. He took a deep breath and remembered the Warlock's words and went through the door on the very right and then moved up the stairs that lay behind it.
He emerged in a long hallway with many doors on both sides of him. His head was beginning to spin slightly and he felt a dull ache as he pressed forward past the doors, but felt himself stop as if his feet were being weighted down and he noticed that some of the doors were open.
To his left was an open room and inside Rhaego could see a beautiful woman sprawling out on the floor. The woman had beautiful golden hair that spread out around her as she laid naked and seemly unconscious. Rhaego felt a sense of horror overwhelm him when he saw four rat faced creatures thrusting in and about her body. He was about to step forward but then his senses returned to him and he kept walking.
His line of sight was suddenly compelled once again to one of the open doors and this time he saw an old man with long silver gold hair and worm like lips sitting on a throne of swords. The man had a feral look in his eyes and seemed to be muttering something that Rhaego couldn't hear. He knew straight away that this man was one of his kin yet he had never met any Targaryen aside from his mother, he found the man's presence unnerving so continued on.
He was close to the final door now when suddenly he heard a soft voice gently singing. Despite his feverish state Rhaego found the voice extremely soothing and he turned towards the direction the voice was coming from. Looking through another open door Rhaego spotted a beautiful woman with olive skin nursing a child and singing to the babe sweetly. Memories of his own childhood flooded back to him and he felt a desperate sense of home sickness. Suddenly he heard a voice and saw a man approach the woman. The man had a tall yet slim build with long silver hair and deep purple eyes that were filled with melancholy, and when he spoke his voice cut straight into Rhaego's heart. "Aegon…what better a name for a King…..he is the Prince who was promised, and his is the song of Ice and Fire." Suddenly the man's eyes met Rhaego's and the young Khal almost flinched from shock. "There must be one more….the Dragon must have three heads."
The man then walked over to a large harp and began playing the most beautiful music Rhaego had ever heard and then he realised. Rhaegar, this man is my uncle Rhaegar….he took one more fleeting glance at the man whom he had been named for and continued onwards, his thoughts racing as he tried to comprehend what the dead man had meant.
He was at the final door on the right when suddenly he heard a bizarre squawking hiss coming from directly behind him. Despite his best intentions Rhaego still felt compelled to look at the final door opposite, and very slowly he turned to see a beautiful young woman with long silver hair and bright purple eyes staring back at him, eyes he knew anywhere.
"Mother?" he asked softly as went to the door, staring at the woman with pleading eyes.
The woman seemed young, younger even than Rhaego, but there was no mistaking it; she was Daenerys Targaryen. She looked back at Rhaego with a look of extreme sadness and confusion and seemed unsure of what to do, for a moment she looked as if she was going to step towards him but then suddenly a small reptilian creature popped up its head from behind her shoulder and hissed at him. Rhaego stared entranced at the little creature, as smoke came from its nostrils and then it dawned on him: Dragon.
He wanted to say something, anything to her yet the words got stuck in his throat like bile. His mother stared back at him with tears welling in her eyes before she seemed to take a deep breath and then closed the door between them.
Rhaego wasn't sure why but he felt oddly heartbroken at that but quickly steeled himself and decided to go over to the final door. Despite the now massive throbbing in his head he remembered the Warlock's words clearly Last door on the right. He took a deep breath and walked through.
He suddenly found himself in a large gloomy room, which was only lit by an odd fading indigo light. In the gloom he managed to make out a large stone table that stretched across the room. He could vaguely see a number of individuals sitting at that table but he found it difficult to focus on anything with the pain that was burning in his head. It seemed to have intensified as he approached the table and suddenly the throbbing in his head became audible and the young Khal nearly doubled over from the pain.
Despite his agony he managed to make out one thing in the dark, the source of the indigo light and his throbbing pain; a large swollen and blue heart filled with corruption that was floating above the table. Despite the horror of the situation Rhaego couldn't help but stare at the glowing, beating, hideous organ with its mystical light.
Suddenly the figures at the table stood up and Rhaego got a chance to see them, the Undying Ones of Qarth, those whom held his prize. Rhaego was shocked by how hauntingly beautiful they all looked, and when they spoke, even their voices sounded inhumanly sweet.
"Stallion who mounts the world. Son of Fire. Breaker of Armies." They said together in a unanimous voice which seemed as if it came from the very building itself. "You will know Ice, you will know Fire. You will know love, you will know grief. You will know birth, you will know death. You will see the night that comes for all."
The throbbing of the heart and in Rhaego's head began to beat in synch and suddenly he felt the strength leave his legs and he fell to a knee as everything around him began to spin past and move into mere blurs and colours before suddenly feeling an extreme sense of vertigo before the world around him began to take shape once again.
He could feel grass swaying about beside him, and when he rose to his feet he found that it was almost touching his throat it was so high. A gentle breeze kissed at his skin and the sun's warmth embraced him and Rhaego realised that he was now in the great grass sea of his people and for the briefest of moments he felt content, but then he heard the grass sway and he saw someone approaching him.
The man was a Dothraki of equal height to Rhaego, though with much larger muscles and a thick beard and moustache which contained numerous bells which chimed ever so slightly in the wind. The man's eyes were fierce like a lion's yet there was something off about them and then Rhaego's sight fell to the man's chest. The man's left pectoral was rotted out all the way through to the ribs, and to Rhaego's horror there were grave worms swimming about the wound and under his flesh.
The man suddenly held up his colossal hand, the blue beating heart from earlier sitting in his palm. "You must eat the heart so that you may grow strong." growled the man in Dothraki.
Rhaego was about to respond when suddenly he felt the world give way and the feeling of vertigo overtook him once again, blowing away everything else as his brains rattled around in his skull. When the spinning stopped he was now inside of a dank cell, a dungeon of some kind. The only light in the entire cell came from one poorly lit torch hanging from a wall. As he stepped forward to grab the torch he heard the rattling of chains, and quickly looked around to see no one. He took another step closer only to be met with a loud roar coming from the dark in front of him, and suddenly saw a great lion walk from the shadows and give the young Khal a miserable growl as it turned and dragged behind it a trail of long rusty chains that were attached to the beast's collar.
The flame from the torch suddenly grew massive and spread across the room and the flames spun and twisted everything around him once again. He began to see more visions in quick succession each barely leaving an image before dissolving into the next. At first he saw a great black stallion riding towards him, but then the beast transformed into that of a mighty griffin, sitting protectively over a blue dragon's egg, but then that too swirled away and was remade into the horrific image of monstrously big harpy sitting on a throne of skulls and screeching into the blood red sky. When his head was just about ready to explode he caught sight of large stag wearing a decorative golden crown, before suddenly he found himself on his knees, desperately clutching at his head to stop the visions.
All seemed quiet now, and the pain from Rhaego's head had mercifully receded. He looked around to find himself in the House of the Undying once again, on his knees before the council of the Undying Ones; every one of them had their youthful eyes on his form. Rhaego looked up at them wearily and saw that one of them held a something large within his hands; a green dragon's egg.
As if following Rhaego's eyes the wizard silently held out the ancient stone, causing the young Khal to rise to his feet and walk over to them luminous beings. When he finally got close enough to them he grabbed the stone from the wizard's outstretched hand, yet for some reason the other man did not let go of the egg.
Rhaego looked up at the man in confusion and suddenly realized that he was now being surrounded by the entire council of beings. To his great horror he then saw the Undying Ones for what they truly were; ancient monsters with withered violet blue skin the same texture as raw leather. With an ungodly shriek they leapt at Rhaego, dozens of them clawing and biting at his flesh and drinking his blood. They're eating me, Gods…they're eating me!
He punched and kicked at many of them, sending a few reeling only for others to jump at him and take their place like a pack of dogs hungrily tearing at a dying calf and soon Rhaego found himself buried under the pile of numerous undead corpses trying to feast on his body and drink his life's blood.
The young Khal was beginning to lose his strength as inch by inch they began to tear his innards out, the darkness closing in. But then the scratching and clawing stopped and he opened a bloody eye to see his attackers staring in horror as a bright green liquid enveloped the floating blue heart, making it burst into a roaring green explosion of flames that went across the room on over the shrieking undead.
As the Undying Ones had their names put to the test, Rhaego crawled over to where they had dropped the dragon egg. With the last of his strength he pulled his heavily muscled and inert body over to the ancient gem, something deep in his blood urging him forward. While he was low to the ground he could still smell the smoke filling in the air and his breathing began to become more and more laboured. Finally he grasped the egg and clutched it tight to his chest as things began to go dark.
The last thing Rhaego saw before he let the darkness take him was a beautiful woman dressed in red standing above him.