She didn't know how long they had been flying. All she knew was that she was far from Meereen and she had no idea where exactly she was.
"Emi naejot jikagon lenton." she said, sitting on the ground next to her dragons. "Kostagon mazemā nyke arlī naejot Meereen?"
*"We have to go home."*
*"Can you take me back to Meereen?"*
She rose from the ground. Her dress was already ruined, there was almost no trace of the white, there were even spots of blood here and there. Well, at least it suits her now. She wasn't crystal clear, white wasn't her color. She wasn't perfect, she wasn't good, she didn't deserve that color. Such a dirty one reflected much better who she really was and what she represented.
"I know you understand me." she rested her hands on her hips. "You're tired and injured, I understand, but I have to get back to Meereen. The city can't cope without me." she got no reaction. A little nervous, she approached Maelia and quickly got on her back, but the dragon moved suddenly, almost knocking her off. "Okay, you're tired... But you, Drogon, you could take me back to the city." she rose to her feet, still on Maelia's back, and jumped clumsily onto Drogon.
Funny, she used to be afraid to get on a horse, and now she could climb on the back of a dragon without fear. Quite a drastic change.
She stayed on his back for a moment, but when Drogon decided to change his position to - probably - go to sleep, she didn't have time to grab anything and slid to the ground between the two dragons.
They positioned themselves immediately afterwards in such a way that their wings almost completely cut off her access to light. She let out a frustrated huff and crawled a bit to get out from under their wings, but to her surprise she came across something other than the bones of their meals...
Eggs.
There was no doubt in her mind, these were dragon eggs. Three, each a different color, each shiny.
She looked at both dragons - they weren't paying much attention to her - and moved closer to the eggs, gently touching one of them, looked like brown. It was covered in something strange, gelatinous. It must have been hot, because she could see steam rising from it, but it didn't burn her.
After a moment of shock, she finally got to her feet, emerging from among the dragons.
"You left your eggs and flew to save me?" she asked, but of course she didn't get any answer, not even a movement. She sighed and looked around. Just meadows and hills. "But one of you could at least hunt something to eat, I'm starving..."
There wasn't even any tree or bush with fruits here. Much less any stream from which she could drink some water.
She was tired, dirty, hungry and thirsty. She didn't need a mirror to know that she looked terrible, her hair had probably fallen out of her braids during the flight. The dragon necklace around her neck was starting to feel heavy, as were the long sleeves of her dress. If only she had something sharp to shorten them...
She took a few steps to stand in front of the dragons' heads again. She crouched down and stroked them lightly.
"I really have to go back." she said in the tone she usually used with Hizdahr when he didn't want to listen to her the first time. But nothing again... "Okay, I'll come back myself then." she stood up. "It's somewhere in that direction, isn't it?" she turned towards the place they came from and started walking there slowly. "I'm grateful that you saved me, even if you don't want to help me now. Take care of your eggs, go to sleep... Whatever. I'm going to Meereen."
In fact, she didn't feel like going there on foot at all. Alone, without any food or water, tired, looking like something the cat draggen in. She hoped that she would soon find a town or at least someone who would be able to help her. She'll pay him as soon as he takes her to her city.
She was thinking about how to get back, but also about what would happen to those eggs. After all, she can't take them from them, but they probably won't take them either, right? What, are they going to sit here until the little dragons hatch?
She heard the clatter of hooves and the neighing of a horse in the distance. She stopped at first, wondering who it could be. She assumed an optimistic version.
"Ser Arthur?! Daario?! Is that you?!" she called, moving towards the sound. She assumed that these two would go looking for her - as long as everyone survived after she escaped from the arena...
But that means... That the city was left in the care of Missandei, Grey Worm, Tyrion and Varys. Great, perfect lineup. Two people she trusts, one she will eventually trust, and one she still wants to cut down sometimes. Perfect, she couldn't have dreamed of anything better.
She really needs to get back to the city quickly if she wants to prevent the citizens from destroying it themselves by fighting each other.
And it was going so well until now...
It turned out that it was going to get even worse. Because on the horse, in the distance, she saw that it was neither Arthur nor Daario, but a man with his hair tied in a braid and dressed in some - for her taste - rags.
Oh fuck...
She quickly turned around and was ready to run back to where the dragons were most likely still lying, but on the other side she saw more riders approaching her too quickly. There's no way she'll be faster than horses.
She looked around again. No escape route.
She covered her hands with the sleeves of her dress and discreetly slipped the ring off her finger, dropping it on the ground, among the grass. If any of her friends ever come here, maybe they will find it and understand what happened.
Perhaps her beauty will finally come in handy. After all, the Dothraki won't kill a beautiful woman, they'd rather use her differently, right?
And she'll be able to avoid it somehow, right...?
She had lost track of how much time she has been walking among all these people, some captured and other Dothraki. Two riders rode alongside her and kept an eye on her.
Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't be able to escape, she was too exhausted. It was stupid to walk away from the dragons, they would keep her safe. As usual, being impatient did not pay off... But this time, fate punished her very severely for her stubbornness and lack of patience.
How many days has she spent in full sun? She felt as if her hair was no longer silver and turning yellow, although it could only have been in her mind, because she couldn't see so well. Walking into the sun all the time, eventually your eyes get fed up. Her skin was never in her whole life so dry as it was now, and certainly as dark as never, although it was still far from a Dothraki skin tone. Despite everything, her Valyrian beauty still shone through.
Her hands tied in front did not help with walking for many hours, nor did her already worn-out dress. There was no trace of white left.
The only thing she could thank them for was that they cut off her long sleeves and cut the fabric down to her knees, otherwise she would probably be tripping over her own feet all the time. And it was still close to it. She barely looked ahead - especially because of the sun - she walked with her head down and dreamed only of being given something to drink and eat, anything.
She straightened up abruptly and hissed as she felt the whip hit her back. Again they decided she wasn't walking good enough.
As soon as I have the chance, I will kill him myself...
She looked at the men riding horses next to her. She may not have felt or looked her best, but her angry look was the same as always. They could see the threat hidden in it, even though they didn't care much about it, they actually laughed at her.
"Ishish anna seh a lei. Tih okeo's mai seh a lei ma mae noreth tureqa zasqa." the one closer to her said to his companion.
*"Maybe she saw a ghost. My friend's mother saw a ghost and her hair turned white."*
She was thankful to Missandei for the lessons of dothraki and their culture. She may not be able to put a sentence together very well on her own, but after so many hours, weeks, of learning, she may be able to at least understand everything they say.
And if they think she doesn't understand anything, even better.
"Theyaven pehoq lar gario ki the shekh. Anna dorwe eihr ilek. Jinak ato steq akka neak she shekh ma mae noreth goho zasqa." replied his companion.
*"Pink people are afraid of the sun. It burns their skin. She stood in the sun too long and her hair turned white."*
Well, at least her hair wasn't turning yellow...
"Yeri rihha anna tore zasqa ustiro noreth akka?" the question only made her roll her eyes. She felt like she was talking to the captains of the Second Sons again, before taking Yunkai. "Yeri eho qorr ma a nayat fin tore zasqa ustiro noreth?"
*"Do you think she has white hair on her pussy too?"*
*"Have you ever been with a girl who has white pussy hair?"*
She didn't even listen to what they were saying anymore, she didn't want to. It only disgusted her and she wanted to spit in their faces, which could end badly for her. But when he smacked his lips at her...
No. She has to control herself. She didn't even turn her face to him, ignored it.
This is their culture, for them sex is nothing intimate, they take what they want whenever they want, that's how they have been raised. They consider themselves great warriors, but she will come up with something... After all, she wanted to make them her cavalry. They only follow strength, she must figure out how she can prove her strength...
It would be easier with dragons...
"Anha ih'qori Khal Moro ha a norte ma yeri." that was probably the hardest thing to ignore. "Fin tat yer doh?" he asked his friend here.
*"I'll ask Khal Moro for a night with you."*
*"What do you think?"*
"Dhiri daso, vosma mae ajjin at khik."
*"Pretty eyes, but she's an idiot."*
She would rather die than... No, she would rather kill him than let him rape her.
She regretted that no one had ever taught her how to defend herself, how to hold a weapon, how to attack. Now it would be very useful for her. Of course, if she had any weapons... For the first time, she would have to achieve her goal without any help.
She had used her beauty in the past, but this time she would rather be as ugly as night so they wouldn't touch her. Although... There are people who fuck anything that moves.
"Mae tat vo zhorre tat tikh sahr tat tikh karth bajinosi aro." she shook her head and even quickened her pace a little so as not to have to listen to them.
*"She doesn't have to be smart to be fucked in the ass."*
The sun dipped behind the clouds for a moment, and it was one of the few times she could look up and see where they were.
There was no sign of green, there were rocks everywhere, yellow, beige and slightly orange rocks. Who would find her here?
She will save herself. Somehow she will surely succeed. She saw no hope in her situation in the arena, and yet she survived. She flew on a dragon, something no one had done in over a hundred years. The fire doesn't hurt her, damn it...! She can do something, she just has to figure out what. Step one is to not allow them to treat her like a whore and to free herself from these tight bonds...
Or maybe...
I'm sorry.
Maybe she could fool them by saying she was Daenerys? After all, she was once the wife of Khal Drogo, and from what she remembers, the Dothraki do not touch the widows of Khals. She's similar enough, silver hair, similar eyes. Height was also almost the same, facial features were similar - at least from what she remembered. Besides, who would recognize her and expose the lie?
If she has no other choice, that's what she'll do.
She didn't know how long it took them to walk to the next stop. At least there was some greenery and water there. She just sat down next to it, she couldn't get her clothes any more dirty anyway. She looked at the lake, moving her tied hands, trying to at least loosen the shackles. Nothing, too tight. What can I do? How to escape from here?
"What are you doing? Let me go!" it was a reflex for her to say this when she felt two people grab her under the arms from both sides and pull her to her feet. These were the same two that had been talking about how they wanted to fuck her earlier.
She had no strength to resist them as they led her somewhere deeper into the camp. Everyone along the way looked at her, all because of her unusual appearance. A child even ran up and pulled her hair.
She immediately remembered Joffrey, only he wanted to tear her hair out, not just pull it.
They led her to the best looking tent of all. There was a man sitting there, two others to his right, and two women to his left. From what she understood from the conversation, he is their Khal and they brought her for him. Like some gift, the silver-haired woman they found in the hills. She felt very uncomfortable listening to them talk about her lips, breasts and hips.
In addition, one of these women said that women with purple eyes are witches. She wanted to roll her eyes at that.
She advised Khal to behead her before she put a spell on him.
Well, if I were a witch, I would have cursed them all a long time ago.
"Akka fin anha ki bai..." this Khal began, rising from his seat. "...Anha'd der anna wihs astat, hor ha mae led akka anha'd tiholat jin chiori zheanalat. Anha zin glad anha zin vo bai."
*"If I were blind and my wives wanted me to cut off a woman's head, I would know she is beautiful. I'm glad I'm not blind."*
He walked around her, looking over her entire body. She may have been dirty and disheveled, but that didn't detract from her beauty.
She looked away as he talked about how seeing a beautiful woman naked for the first time was the best thing in the world. His bloodriders didn't quite agree with him, mentioning other things that were just as good or better. So it ended with conclusion that a naked, beautiful woman is among the five best things in this world.
There are many things in her world that are much better than seeing others naked and being limited to such primitive instincts.
"Tat vo dar tat ortho an'na." she said quickly when Khal's hands were on her neckline and wanted to tear her clothes.
*"Don't you dare touch me."*
She didn't think about nudity in the same way as the Dothraki, but she also still had enough dignity to not allow to be treated that way.
She saw that she surprised them by knowing their language. They didn't expect a woman like her to understand what they were saying. Her pronunciation may not have been the best, but she knew the language well enough to communicate.
The man lowered his hands and looked at her carefully, waiting to see what else she would say.
This may be her only chance to save herself from a bad fate. No matter how terrible it is that she pretends to be her own aunt who died because of her.
"Anha zin Daenerys Zdevasko ki ara Targaryen. Khalessi ki Westerosi. Khalessi ki Sakio Vae, Ordi ki marak akka Mai ki Zhavorsa. Fin yer ake anna tat Meereen, anha tikh erjo yer. Ma derrsos hrazefo." she said with as much conviction as she could muster at that moment. She didn't pay attention to how much she murdered their language, what mattered was that they understood what she had to say.
*"I am Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen. Queen of Westeros. Queen of Slaver's Bay, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons. If you take me to Meereen, I will pay you with thousands horses."*
But they... They laughed at her. They didn't take what she said seriously at all, as if she had made it up. She didn't expect this kind of reaction...
"Yer hash tolori, yer, jin tijo ki yeri hake." he cupped her cheek, but there was no gentleness in it. She wanted to pull away, but he pulled her even closer. "Khalessi ki Vosi, zafra tat Khal Moro. Ijo anha tikh dero ma yer, akka fin jin Vezhof ajjin davra, yer tikh ke anna jin rizh. Tat yer tiholat?"
*"You are nothing, you, millions of your names. Queen of Nothing, slave of Khal Moro. Today I will possess you, and if the Great Stallion is kind, you will give me a son. Do you understand?"*
She won't give him a son. If she ever has a child, first of all, she will give it to herself, not to the man she will have it with. Her child will be the next ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, another member of the Great House Targaryen, not the child of some barbarian, conceived in rape.
"Anha tikh addrivat yer hatif rek dara." she hissed at him. This time no one laughed anymore. "Hash jin kashi jadat, anha tikh ihrotrisa tat eshna zhavvorsa, allayafi oro yol finne Khal Drogo erodo."
*"I will kill you before that happens. When the time comes, I will give birth to another dragon. Like the ones born at Khal Drogo's funeral pyre."*
"Anha ast mae ki jin nido." said one of those women, an older one, reminding that she said Visenya is a witch.
"Khal Drogo erodo?" he repeated after her, ignoring his wife.
"Anha ki mae thronn, hatif mae sahd. Arrek anha eiro mae khado."
*"I was his wife before he died. Then I burned his body."*
He removed his hand from her cheek, even pulling away slightly as well. His gaze changed, he no longer looked at her in a way you look at a prey.
"Tiholat anna, anha tat vo tiholat." she didn't expect him to apologize to her. And it looked like he really meant what he said. "Me ajjin forgo tat qosarvenikh ma jin Khal diso. Vo ato tikh vosetchi yer." here he pulled out his weapon and cut the shackles on her hands. "Yer zhorre anna asse."
*"Forgive me, I didn't know. It's forbidden to take Khal's widow. No one will touch you. You have my word."*
She finally felt her hands again, especially her wrists. She grabbed the wrist of her left hand and began to twist it, feeling the ease of moving her hands. There were already traces of the rope on the skin, but it's not a problem, they will fade away quickly. The important thing is that at least for now she is safe, no one will attack her.
"Laz yer fichat anna tat Meereen? Ven anha ast, anha tikh erjo yer sanekh." she asked, with new hope in her voice. Unfortunately, this hope was to be quickly extinguished.
*"Can you take me to Meereen? Like I said, I'll pay you well."*
"Hash Khal athdrivar, mae Khalessi et ato place elat." he replied, returning to where he was sitting earlier.
*"When a Khal dies, his Khaleesi goes to only one place."*
His wives looked at him, the older one smiled and looked at 'Daenerys' with slight derision before answering her.
"Vaes Dothrak. Vaiso Dosh Khaleen."
What? She was supposed to go back to Meereen, not to some temple where the widows of the Khals live! Is this how fate punishes her for lying? She doesn't intend to spend the rest of her days locked in this place with the widows. She is destined to do other, greater things.
How long had they been walking to this whole Vaes Dothrak? She stopped counting the days a long time ago, and because of the sun she couldn't think so clearly anymore. She only knew they were there because of two things: The two huge horses at the entrance to the city and the fact that Khal Moro himself had told her so.
She wondered what's going on in Meereen... How long has it been since she was there, in the arena? Is the city still standing? How are Tyrion and Varys doing? Is anyone even looking for her? Surely... Surely Arthur and Daario are looking for her, perhaps they even know that the Dothraki have kidnapped her.
What about Viserion? Rhaegal? As soon as she returns, she will free them. They deserve to finally regain their freedom.
And she will take a bath. She'll do that right after she comes back.
"Idde yese, Khaleesi." Moro said to her when she was standing in front of a large hut. Is this where she was supposed to live for the rest of her days?
*"Welcome home, Khaleesi."*
This is not her home. Her home is across the sea, she must reclaim it and only then will she be able to live in peace. In the Red Keep, where she should have always lived.
They brought her into this hut. She's not used to this type of 'luxury', but if she's endured all the way here, she'll endure as long as she has to. Just a little light came in, which was a nice change.
In the middle, lighting the torches standing there, stood the oldest of the women, her eyes never leaving Visenya for even a moment. She told the Dothraki who brought her to leave. The door closed behind them and she was left alone with all these women.
She had no illusions that her situation has improved in any way. Especially when several women approached her and started tearing off her clothes. First they took the silver necklace, and then ripped off the dress. It may have been very dirty and probably smelled quite bad, but at least it covered her body.
She didn't defend herself. However, right after she was left without any clothes, she covered herself as best she could with her hands, looking at the older woman with hatred. She shouldn't feel any humiliation in being seen naked, after all, she's a beautiful woman, but without anything on she felt... vulnerable. Very sensitive to any attack that might come.
Fortunately, a younger woman handed her some clothes.
"Rek's vo hash yer trido Khalessi." she said, quickly putting on this very simple dress. It was probably the worst thing she had worn all her life.
*"This is not how you treat Khaleesi."*
"Yer hash vo Khaleesi quioro. Yer avvos hash." replied the older woman. "Tat yer tiholat fin mori tikh tat tat yer, hash mori latohi yer hash vo Daenerys Zdevasko? Tat vo dordo me. Anha tih hash mae jato hrazef zhor. Yer zoro pisto, vosma vo allayafi mae."
*"You are not a Khaleesi here. You have never been. Do you know what they will do to you when they find out you are not Daenerys Stormborn? Don't deny it. I saw her eat a horse's heart. You look similar, but not like her."*
Her heart sped up as she realized her predicament. If she wants to fulfill her destiny in which she so much believes, she must quickly come up with an idea so that this woman won't speak the truth. So that none of them would speak.
"Yer tikh vo astat eyak rek." she replied confidently, even lifting her head.
*"You won't tell them that."*
"Hash yer ma ra?"
*"How can you be so sure of that?"*
"Anha tikh seris yer." when she announced that she would free them, the women began to whisper among themselves, especially the young ones. It was clearly something they had dreamed about. She couldn't blame them, some of them didn't look older than sixteen, what were they supposed to do here? Sit in a circle and wait to get old? "Anha tikh vadrivoi jin Khals, trikodos jin khalasar akka yer ei tikh tiho seris tat des."
*"I will kill the Khals, take over the khalasar, and you can leave."*
"Yer? Vadrivoi jin Khals? " the older woman almost laughed in her face, questioning her intentions.
True, she didn't know how to do it yet, but there was definitely a good way to do it. She half-listened as the woman was saying that they weren't monsters, they wouldn't put her through such suffering, instead they would let the khals decide what to do with 'Khal Drogo's widow'. She didn't want to hear about their mercy, but she couldn't be ungrateful, after all, it will keep all of them from touching her in that way. She looked around the place discreetly, wondering if she could somehow use it...
"Tikh anha tikh jondo doro?" she interrupted suddenly, looking towards the large, standing torches.
*"Will I be judged here?"*
She received an answer that satisfied her. Perhaps it's time for her to take things into her own hands. No dragons, no soldiers or knights to fight for her. She will save herself.
As Missandei once told her: 'Dothraki follow strength. If you would like to get your khalasar, you must prove your strength.'
There's a good chance she can do it, as long as she manages to lock up all the Khals in this place.
Only more and more death.
That was Robb's first thought when he found out what they had done to Jon, and it kept running through his mind. It was a time when he felt the same way as he felt after escaping from the Twins: broken, betrayed, lonely and without hope for a better tomorrow.
But that wasn't the end.
He's seen a lot in his life, but never... Never something like this. He might not have liked Melisandre, but after what she had done, he couldn't help but feel at least a little grateful.
Besides, everyone was as shocked as he was, although they did not hide their joy that their friend, his brother, was alive. The only dissatisfied ones were the traitors.
In his mind they would die anyway, he would kill them with his bare hands. But there was no need for that, they were hanged for their treason.
Immediately after that, they began to discuss where they should go - since Jon had already decided that he would no longer stay in the Night's Watch - he had given his life to it, had been fighting all this time, he wanted to rest. Jon wanted to go somewhere south and not stay in the North any longer, to what Robb protested almost immediately.
They cannot leave their home, their history, their people. This is not the end yet, and - as Davos said - while we are alive, we can still change something, we have to use our lives. According to Robb, they should consider how to take Winterfell back from the Boltons, this should be their primary goal, to return to their family castle.
On the other hand, he understood his stepbrother too much. He may not have died, but he was very close. Saw his people die, his mother, Talisa. All. But he also knows that he can't give up, no matter what. In the end, you have to move on, even if you never accept what happened.
They argued for quite a long time, until they were interrupted by a shout from outside to open the gate. No one knew who suddenly arrived at Castle Black. They went outside and found that three people had arrived, two women and one man.
There was one person he and Jon recognized very quickly. Sansa.
Nothing else mattered anymore. Words couldn't express how heart felt. They reacted differently, except that they were both shocked at first, as was their sister. Robb quickly snapped out of it and ran down the stairs, sweeping Sansa into his arms. Tears ran down his cheeks and soaked into her coat as they cuddled.
"They said you were dead, like mother-"
"You're alright. Little sister..." he interrupted her, kissing her somewhere between her hair. Just then, they felt another pair of arms wrap around them both - Jon joined the hug.
He doesn't know how long they stood there and hugged, but it didn't matter. The important thing is that they were not alone. It really wasn't over yet, not for them at least. They had a reason to live, both of them. A reason to fight. If not for the North and themselves, then for her to come home, to finally feel safe.
Stark banners will hang again in Winterfell.