Upon seeing the dragon, the horses stopped abruptly. Around twenty five feet separated Dany from the closest of them. The riders stood there hesitantly, not showing any signs of fear as the bold warriors they were, but not willing to approach the beast either.
They are afraid, Dany thought. Good.
Drogon moved his head from side to side as he took in the Dothraki and their horses who were nothing more than prey to him - just like Daenerys herself was to the riders. She was sure, however, that they wouldn't hurt her while Drogon was still there, and she prayed for him to stay there as the Dothraki surrounded her.
A rider emerged from the horde, getting closer until he was about ten feet away from her. Drogon turned his head towards him and roared, making his horse scream and rear up. Dany heard the bells in the man's braid ring as he tried to calm his horse, staring at the dragon. The man was almost as tall as Khal Drogo was, but his shining black hair was shorter and had fewer bells. The muscles on his chest and hands looked smaller, too, but a thought flashed at the back of Dany's mind that they would still be enough to break her in half if he wanted to, just how weak and fragile she was. But not as long as I have Drogon.
As the rider's eyes landed on her, Dany recognized him. Khal Jhaqo, Drogo's former ko who left with Mago and twenty thousand riders when her sun and stars was wounded and dying slowly. She remembered Eroeh, the girl she thought she'd saved, and what they've done to her. She then promised to make them pay for what they did - and here she stood, with a dragon by her side who could burn all of them alive should she say one word.
In the almonds of his eyes she could see that he recognized her, too, although it must have been hard for him since it's been a couple of years, and she was now lacking her hair.
"It's Drogo's khaleesi," he shouted back at his khalasar in Dothraki. He turned his head to Dany again. "Your khal is dead. You should be in dosh khaleen with other widowed khaleesi. Drogo's bloodriders should have taken you there."
"Drogo's bloodriders are now my bloodriders, and his khalasar is mine." Whatever his intentions were, Dany knew she shouldn't anger him, but days of helpless wandering and near starvation left her desperate to stop feeling weak - with Drogon by her side, she couldn't help enjoying being the one in power.
"A woman cannot lead a khalasar. You belong in Vaes Dothrak, among the ones likes you." Jhaqo hollered, and the roar of agreement came from the riders behind him. Drogon replied with a growl, and the khals' enthusiasm faded out immediately.
"My dragons don't think so," Dany smiled despite being exhausted and not knowing what would turn out of this encounter.
Suddenly a thought came to her. They could take me back to Meereen, or give me a horse so I could go there by myself. She looked at a half a hundred riders in front of her. There must be more of them. What would it take to convince them?
"I only see one dragon," said Jhaqo.
"I have two more in the city of Meereen," Dany stepped closer to the khal. He glanced at her, then at Drogon, then back at her, as if trying to predict her intentions. "Take me there, and my dragon won't harm you."
Another rider approached the khal.
"Blood of my blood," he said, "the white khaleesi must go to Dosh Khaleen, it is known. There is no other place for her."
Khal Jhaqo watched Dany for a few moments. Finally he said, "I must speak with my men about you, white khaleesi. Until then," he gestured towards the men behind him, "you are my guest."