Disclaimer: I don't own any Marvel or Game of Thrones characters seen, mentioned or used.
They were making good time, Silver thought.
It's been roughly a month since Drogo's Khalasar departed from Pentos and already they were entering the Qhoyne River tributary soon, which meant they'd be nearing Qohor in the next few days. She doubts Drogo will try to attack the city, if anything his Khalasar will camp just within sight of the 'City of Sorcerers', extract a hefty tribute from them, resupply on provisions before they begin the near three month journey across the Dothraki Sea to Vaes Dothrak.
She hoped the Khalasar didn't come across any others, she didn't much fancy losing men to a feud between Khals.
It was then Silver saw Ser Jorah riding up towards her, a piece of the Dothraki's infamous horse jerky in his hand.
"My lady." he bowed his head.
"Ser Jorah." Silver responded with a small bow of her own as the elder knight settled his horse next to her's and they watched the Khalasar pass them by slowly "To what do I owe the honor of your presence today?"
"I needed a break from our future king." Ser Jorah said in a dry, amused tone.
"That terrible?" Silver smirked as her eyes darted around the Khalasar for the tell-tell signs of Viserys.
Ser Jorah took a moment to tear off a piece of his jerky with his teeth and chewed on it for a moment before responding "At first, it wasn't unpleasant. The boy does have a knack for tactics and a surprising amount of understanding of war, but he's impatient. He also allows that temper of his to run wild."
"What set him off?" Silver asked with a sigh, already dreading her dinner she had planned with the young Targaryen tonight.
"We were speaking of the Greyjoy's Rebellion. Viserys wished to hear of it, wanted to see how Robert conducted his war, what tactics he seemed to favor. What were his preferences for war, did he take part in any of the planning or did he leave it to others. All good questions if I do say so." Ser Jorah revealed with a thoughtful look on his face before he sighed "Than we reached the point of which lords were involved."
"I bet he so loved hearing men who once swore oaths of loyalty to his father were now aiding the Usurper in his wars." Silver snorted.
"At first it wasn't too bad, he showed some annoyance at hearing of Ned Stark and Paxter Redwyne's roles, and obvious disdain for Robert and Stannis Baratheon, more so the former given he killed his elder brother and took the Iron Throne from him." Ser Jorah explained, noting the dark look that entered Silver's eyes at the mention of 'Ned Stark' "Then I made the mistake of mentioning Tywin Lannister's part in the Rebellion."
"I suppose he's never forgiven the Lannister's lack of support during Robert's Rebellion and their betrayal at Kings Landing." Silver mused, casuing Ser Jorah to nod.
"Nor that it was Tywin's son that slew the King." Ser Jorah admitted with a grim chuckle "I believe the words he used to describe him and his family were 'ungrateful traitor', 'golden whores', and 'cockless oathbreakers' to name a few."
Silver hummed as she and Ser Jorah watched the miles long train of Dothraki, slaves, her own company of mercenaries and beats of burden pass them by.
"Have you ever been to Vaes Dothrak in your years as a mercenary captain, my lady?" Ser Jorah asked with a brief glance towards the silver haired woman.
Silver shook her head at this "No. After Robert's Rebellion ended, instead of being granted an honorable death, I was sent back to Volantis, my family's ancestral seat of power in the days of the Freehold. I was in the city barely a week before my household's slaves revolted and sold me to a brothel where I spent the next several years being raped. Eventually, a Khalasar led by Khal Motho passed through and a litany of slaves were offered to him, me among them. Afterwards, his Khalasar followed the coast until reaching Slavers Bay where I was actually discarded on the outskirts of Mantarys."
Ser Jorah nodded silently at this before something occurred to him and he gestured to just below his right eye "Isn't it customary for pleasure slaves to be tattooed with a single tear below the right eye?"
"Normally yes." Silver nodded with a frown "But the brothel that purchased me, it's Keeper thought his patrons would get a kick out of fucking a former highborn girl that wasn't marked as a slave. Allow them to live out their perversions of raping the many other highborn girls denied to them for one reason or another."
"Gods above and below..." Ser Jorah said with a look of disgust.
While he knew the world of Pleasure Slaves could be a unique sort of hell for many that fall into it, and those that partake, something new always seems to rear it's ugly head to show him an even deeper level of depravity.
"There are no Gods in Volantis, Ser Jorah." Silver sighed.
And if there ever was, they'd long since forsaken the city.
A solemn silence settled between the two for some time as they watched the seemingly never ending train of the Khalasar pass them by. At one point Silver saw the young man, Peter, his black hooded cloak helping him stand out amongst the rabble of slaves around him, walking beside a cart carrying several jugs. The contents of which were likely mare's milk, goat's milk, wine and whatever other sorts of drinks the Dothraki have taken or were gifted. She gave him a small wave as he passed her and Ser Jorah by, which he responded with a wave of his own before continuing on with the Horde.
"How in the name of the Seven can that man walk dressed like that in such heat?" Ser Jorah said with an incredulous shake of his head while reaching up to rub away some of the sweat gathering on his brow.
"Tis a wonder." Silver agreed, feeling the heat herself.
Keeping himself covered surely wasn't doing much to help with that pale complexion of his, and further feeding the rumors traveling amongst the Dothraki that there was something unnatural about the man. Though if what she was told of by Illyrio was true, cursed seemed more apt.
"The Khaleesi has strange friends." Ser Jorah commented as he looked further back down the caravan.
"Indeed she does." Silver agreed as she followed Ser Jorah's gaze and saw Daenerys Targaryen was steadily approaching the pair on her horse "Ah, wonderful, I was hoping she'd find me."
"You have words you wish to exchange with the Khaleesi?" Ser Jorah raised a brow at this "Forgive me my lady, but I was under the impression she didn't wish to speak with you still."
Silver giggled at this and waved off the man's suspicions "Come now Ser Jorah, you know how us women are. One week we detest another, the next, we're making amends."
Ser Jorah hummed at this before he gave his horse a light kick to it's flanks and had it slowly make it's way back into the Horde "I'll be on my way then."
Silver watched the man depart before she turned her attention to the approaching Targaryen girl and bowed her head in greeting when she was close enough "Good morrow, Khaleesi."
"I was told you wished to speak with me." Daenerys said with a worried expression on her face.
Silver's lips twitched slightly in amusement before she switched to the language of their ancestors "I did. Good to see that handmaiden of yours makes for a better messenger then a lookout."
"What do you want?" Daenerys asked nervously as she shifted in her saddle, her horse making near silent neighs of discomfort as it sensed it's rider distress.
Silver didn't respond at first, instead taking this time to watch the long train of the Dothraki horde pass them by. Despite said train being made up of riders, wagons and slaves, it was still an impressive sight given the sheer size of the Khalasar. When she believed enough time had passed, and Daenerys's discomfort was becoming more and more obvious, the elder Valyrian woman turned to her.
"That man of yours, the Parker fellow, do you love him?" Silver asked with a nod in the vague direction she saw him heading earlier.
Daenerys was taken back by the sudden question, a faint blush of embarrassment grew on her face "I-I-"
"I'll take that as a yes." Silver chuckled as she adjusted her position on her own saddle before she lightly tugged on the reigns of her horse to turn it away from the Horde and begin to slowly trot out a little ways for better privacy "And I'll assume that you've not found yourself being swayed by the Khal's... 'charms', these past few weeks?"
"Can anyone be swayed by him?" Daenerys called out with a look of disgust on her face as she motioned for her horse to follow after the elder Valyrian woman "To be raped every other night by some beast that smells worse then the horses his people ride?"
"Perhaps if you were born into these savages." Silver shrugged as she turned her mount so it was walking parallel from the Khalasar some dozen meters away.
"Why did you ask to speak with me?" Daenerys demanded with a sigh "I hope it's not to discuss my private affairs."
Silver hummed at this "Unfortunately, it is. You see my dear, you're playing a very dangerous game with that boy. As I'm sure you've been told by Illyrio before we left Pentos, a Khal will not suffer his Khaleesi being with another man that isn't him."
"And yet I've heard of Khals who offer their Khaleesi to their Bloodriders and even Kos who prove themselves in battle." Daenerys said with a frown.
Silver nodded "And you have heard correctly, however, those instances were by the Khal's leave. Drogo, far as I can see, hasn't given your Parker boy, who is neither a Ko or a Bloodrider, let alone prove himself in battle, leave to fuck his new Khaleesi before he's even gotten a son out of you."
"We haven't- we didn't-..." Daenerys began before she stopped herself and slumped into her saddle "We weren't intimate beyond simply kissing."
"He won't see a difference." Silver stated with a blank expression "Nor care to. The moment he finds out about your little affair, recent as it is, he'll have Peter brought to him, at which point Drogo will kill him, most likely tying him to Drogo's horse and proceed to have his mount break out into a full gallop, dragging Peter behind for miles until his body is torn apart from the abuse, and have you watch the whole time. Afterwards, he'll proceed to rape you, far worse than he has before, then, he'll give you to his Bloodriders so they can each take their own turns raping you. After which, your hands and feet will be tired to four separate horses, most likely the Kahl's and his Bloodriders, and promptly torn apart. Afterwards, yours and Peter's bodies will be fed to the dogs."
Daenerys's face had paled considerably during Silver's detailed explanation into what awaited her and Peter should Drogo discover their affair, or more accurately, the beginnings of one. She knew that they'd likely be killed if discovered, but she had no idea just how horrific their ends would be.
"Luckily I am here, so you and your little lover won't ever have to experience such fates." Silver stated with a smug grin "So long as you both do as I say."
"What do you mean by that?" Daenerys asked, dreading as to what sort of... demands, the elder Valayrian will task her and Peter with to ensure the woman's silence.
"Don't be so glum child, it's nothing to worry about." Silver giggled at the look of fear in the younger woman's eyes "I'll simply be explaining and showing you how to conduct your affair in secret and ensure it's never discovered. Won't be anything too complex, the Dothraki aren't a very well educated people after all, but I suspect you don't want your brother or Ser Jorah to notice, hmm?"
Daenerys nodded at this, casuing Silver's grin to sharpen.
"Excellent!" she said with a pleased expression "We'll start tonight, bring your handmaiden, the one you seem to trust and like the most. If you wish to use her to assist you in carrying out this affair of yours, she'll need to learn as well."
Dany nodded at this, still unsure if she was making the right decision, though it seemed she didn't have a choice in the matter.
"And once I feel you and your handmaiden have learned enough, I'll have you bring the boy so that way I can properly instruct you both in how to extract pleasure from one another in a discreet and efficient manner." Silver teased with a wink.
"What?" Dany said, her eyes wide and cheeks red.
Silver couldn't help but giggle at the sight the Targaryen girl made "Oh yes, my dear, I'll be walking through the various ways you and your lover will be able to please one another in ways that won't require you to disrobe entirely. How to properly pleasure him with your mouth, and vice versa. What clothes you can wear that, when the mood strikes you, allow him to gain quick and easy access to your slit."
If Dany's face was red before, it was practically burning with embarrassment "T-That won't be necessary."
But her words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears as Silver, in excruciating detail, began to explain to Dany how it is she'll be able to pleasure Peter until he cums, and how he'll be able to please her until she cums herself, with just his hands, and his mouth. She had thought herself well prepaid for such things, what with Doreah always muttering such acts in her ear in attempt to rile her, but the Lady Silver was beginning to show her that perhaps Doreah was either being very restrained in what she said to he Targaryen, or perhaps, wasn't as experienced as the Valryian beauty before her was.
Dany wasn't sure which worried her more.
...
Walking among a people of another world unseen was a simple delight for Gaunter O'Dimm.
It allowed him to observe how this world's humans acted, how they differed from their kin in other worlds, and how they acted similar in others. Granted, these horse lords, the Dothraki he believes is what they call themselves, didn't act much better than the many barbarians he's seen and dealt with over the countless millennia.
"Hmm, I wonder if I'll be able to apply my trade with this lot. Surely they'll be more reasonable than those worm riders I encountered." Gaunter mused as he adjusted his hold on the still unconscious Cirilla in his arms.
True he could've just left her somewhere else until he reached his destination and have her appear, but he felt too many eyes on his movements as of late and didn't wish to leave things to chance. No, it was best he kept the 'Lady of Time and Space' close until he can officially pass her off in this world and mark the first step in his plan to avenge his humiliating defeat at the hands of her adoptive father.
"Let's see, let's see, which tent is your soon to be King in Black roosting in..." Gaunter murmured as he passed tent after tent before coming to a sudden stop and nodded "Ah, here it is! I knew I'd find it!"
Of course, it helped that the Dothraki had set up their own tents a good few meters farther than usual from this one and nether animal nor insect got within ten feet of it. With a slight twitch of his finger, the tent flaps parted for the being and he slipped in with his charge without a sound.
Gaunter paused after he stepped in to examine the interior of the tent and clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction "How... dreary."
It truly was a dreary looking sight, the shadows seemed to loom over everything and the warmth and light of outside seemed to shy away from the oppressive, almost hungered looking shadows. At the center of the tent was a small fire, the flames hugging the almost charred wood as if it were afraid to reach too far out and risk being caught by the shadows. Beside the flames, squatting low, his arms wrapped tightly around his front and covering the lower half of his head was Peter, his eyes seemingly glazed over as they stared into the flames of the fire before him. He was without a shirt, and Gaunter could see the Dark One's influence on the boy plainly as a inky black shadow seemed to settle underneath his skin, right where his spine would be, and small 'roots' could be faintly seen spreading out up and down the length of his spine.
"Hmm, seems to be taking to you rather well. What a relief." Gaunter smiled as he walked around Peter's still form and approached his bed.
The shadows seemed to eagerly linger over the bed, but a simple gaze from Gaunter caused them to scatter and the bed to seemingly brighten in this gloomy atmosphere. Gently setting Cirilla, Gaunter made a few adjustments to the woman's posture before he stepped back to admire his handiwork. Cirilla's hands were now resting on her stomach, fingers interlocked, her legs straight and pressed tightly together and her ashen colored hair framed perfectly around her face. He briefly considered having that scar of her's removed when his... associate, was nullifying that pesky ability of her's to travel between the worlds, but decided against it.
Honestly it gave her a bit of character and will have her stand out among the various women he's slowly moving into position.
"Ah, those others shouldn't be a problem, considering you'll stand higher than any of them in his and the other two's eyes." Gaunter said as he cupped his chin in thought before he looked to see Peter was still squatting before that dim fire of his, staring into it's low flames with a dead expression.
Honestly, the whole tent could be on fire and he'd likely not even notice until the burning fabric began to fall on him. Of course, he's intentionally deafening the Dark One's senses to him, and by proxy Peter's, leaving him and, for the moment, Cirilla, all but invisible to them. With a final glance spared towards Cirilla, Gaunter raised his hands and clapped three times.
It was time for the fun to begin.
...
Peter jumped at the sound of clapping and quickly looked around his dimly lit tent for the source of it.
Glancing at the entrance to his tent, Peter half expected to see someone standing there, or at the very least poking their head inside to address him. After several seconds of seeing or hearing no one call for him, Peter shrugged and slowly rose from his crouch, rolling his shoulders and neck to work out the kinks they developed and turned towards his bed for some proper sleep before stopping at the sight before him.
Lying there, almost unnaturally given her rigid her body seemed, was a woman he's never seen before, with what looked to be ashen colored white hair, and a scar on her left cheek. She was garbed in a white tunic that seemed to be made of cotton with a shiny silk stripe and a brown belt fastened over her shoulder, some kind of dark brown colored underbust corset, dark brown colored trousers with metal studs, and knee high heeled boots, the style wasn't quite like anything he's ever seen before.
"Who in the Seven Hells are you?!" Peter said towards the mysterious woman.
Far as he could recall, no one had come into his tent, he's pretty sure he'd notice, let alone lie in his bed and strike such a odd pose.
'She doesn't look like she's one of the Dothraki.' Peter thought as he stared at her still form 'Definitely not a slave either. They'd never let her walk around dressed like this. Maybe she's one of Lady Silver's people? I know she has a few women to attend to her in her company.'
Though far as Peter knew, the Lady Silver never lets them leave her people's camp, stating she doesn't trust the Dothraki not to rape them. But aside from Lady Silver's company, Ser Jorah, Viserys and Dany, no other foreigners were traveling with the Horde that Peter was aware of or at the very least recognized. Granted Peter hasn't really been paying attention to whose exactly in the Khalasar, but he's pretty sure anyone other then the people he thought of a moment ago, he'd at least hear something about it.
"Okay Peter, you have an unknown woman that's snuck into the Khalasar, somehow made her way into your tent and decided to take a nap on your bed of all places. Brave woman considering I haven't found a way to wash those sheets, let alone get the smell of horse out of them. Now, what are you going to do?" Peter asked himself as he began to pace back and forth before the bed, running his hands through his hair.
Obviously he'll need to let someone know that there's essentially a stranger wandering around, going into people's tents and making themselves at home. Question was though, who does he tell specifically? Does he go straight to Dany and tell her, or would that be improper? He got the sense last night he couldn't just go and see her whenever he liked given how a few Dothraki stopped him outside Dany's tent and wouldn't let him in until one of the women Dany has taken on as handmaidens said it was fine, and only then, because Dany said so. She could also be busy doing... whatever it was Khaleesi did when the Horde wasn't on the move. He tries to not think of her being with her husband, that was a path he did not want to wander down if he could help it.
It was bad enough he was kissing the Khal's wife in their own tent while said Khal wasn't around.
"Oh I just know that's not going to end well for me." Peter groaned before he stopped and looked back at the woman to see that her body wasn't as rigid as before and seemed to have relaxed a bit.
Taking a moment to see if she had anything on her, like a dagger or something to hit him with, Peter slowly approached her and reached out to poke her arm.
"Hey!" he called out in a low voice before taking a step back to see how she'd react.
Nothing.
Peter repeated this several more times, poking the woman with greater intensity until the fourth time, he lightly gripped her bicep and gave it a mild shake. When she didn't respond, Peter sighed and stepped back for a moment to think of what else he could do to try and rouse the woman. Considering the gentle rise and fall of her chest, she was alive at the very least, just a very, very heavy sleeper it seemed. Peter's gaze briefly flickered towards the water skin hanging up beside his bed, he could try emptying it on to the woman's face to see if that would wake her, most people tended to when water started falling on their face in quantities greater then a few drops. But, that'd be a waste of perfectly good water, and Peter didn't want to walk around tomorrow through the hot, humid, tributaries of the Qhoyne River without something to drink.
And he sure as Seven Hells wasn't going to trust the waters around the City of Sorcerers any time soon, especially after they just celebrated a holiday not too long ago and sacrificed a number of criminals to their Black Goat God.
"Ugh, what would Dany do?" Peter mumbled to himself.
She'd probably come to him for answers on what to do, if he was being honest.
"Okay, what would Viserys do?" Peter asked himself as he began to pace before he stopped and shook his head "No, wait, forget what I said I don't want to know what he'd do."
Lady Silver was also a dead end since he didn't know enough about her to gauge her actions in this situation, and Drogo might very well throw this poor woman to the wolves, or his Dothraki, and be done with it.
"Which leaves Ser Jorah..." Peter sighed as he tried to imagine what the seemingly honorable Knight would do.
Probably sell her into slavery, like those poachers he caught, Peter darkly mused.
With a shake of his head, Peter turned back to the woman and decided to simply pick her up and carry her to Lady Silver's camp. At the very least she might have someone there that might have an idea of who this person is and what to do. Approaching the bed, Peter leaned down to slide his arms underneath the woman's legs and shoulder before she suddenly stirred and her eyes, emerald green in color, snapped open and stared right into his own.
"..."
"..."
"Uhh, good evening." Peter said with a nervous smile and a wave towards the wide eyed woman "Would you mind telling me how you got into-"
Peter's question was promptly cut off when the young woman in a flash of movement, brought her legs up until her knees were pressed against her breasts, before turning her body and kicking them out towards his head. Peter was so stunned by the sudden speed this woman displayed, seriously, he's never seen anyone move quite that fast before, he didn't think to move or block the heels coming towards his face.
The result, was a sudden searing pain in his nose as the woman's boots made contact with it, creating a loud, wet 'crunch' sound.
Peter stumbled back, his hands flying to his face as the woman took this opportunity to roll off the bed and shove him to the side and made a run for the tent's entrance. She hadn't made it two feet before she felt something latch on to her right leg and pull back, casuing her to fall towards the ground, only just managing to throw her hands out to catch herself from hitting the tent's floor. She turned to look back at what caught her and found herself shocked to see the man who loomed over her and whose nose she just broke, facing away from her, cupping his face in pain... while a black tendril made of... what could only be described as blackened muscle, had emerged from his back and caught her.
'What in the world?' the woman, Ciri, thought as she tried to pull her foot free but found the tendril's hold on it to be like iron.
Gritting her teeth as the tendril began to slowly pull her back towards the man, Ciri looked around frantically for something to use to try and cut the tendril but only saw a dying fire a foot away from her, it's coals burning cherry hot red. Without a second thought, she reached out and stuck her gloved hand into the embers, ignoring the sudden heat followed by pain as the gloves began to burn and melt, she threw the hot coals towards the man and the tendril holding her leg with a yell.
"HSSSSSSS!" the tendril hissed as it immediately released her foot and pulled back to protect itself, and the man it emerged from.
Without another second of hesitation, Ciri scrambled to the tent's entrance and all but threw herself out into world beyond... and right into the legs of a passing copper skinned man dressed in boiled leathers, knives, horse hair leggings and a strange sword hanging from his hip. The man let out a guttural sounding yelp of surprise as he fell to the ground with the foreign woman on top of him.
Ciri didn't let this stop her as she quickly crawled across the man, sending a powerful elbow into his face when she felt him trying to grab her, and climbed back to her feet to see that she was in a camp of some sort, surrounded by men dressed in a fashion she didn't recognize. They began to shout in a guttural language that made her cringe as they began to close in on her, some drawing knives, some drawing those strange scythe like swords from their waists of their backs, while a few on horseback aimed bows at her.
She had just turn around to try and run in the other direction only to stop as the tip of a longsword was suddenly aimed at her throat, wielded by a bearded, middle aged man, dressed in what looked to be loose brown colored trousers, pen-toed riding sandals that were laced up to his knees, and a simple white tunic under a cream colored vest, styled the same as the copper skinned men around them. Ciri's eyes briefly darted down to the blade at her neck and she silently considered if she'd be able to disarm the man and take possession of the sword for herself to use.
The man barked something she didn't understand just as the pale man she kicked in the face earlier emerged from his tent.
...
"Wait, wait, wait, don't hurt her!" Peter said as he stepped out into the dimming light.
Before Peter was Ser Jorah, his sword drawn and pointed towards the strange woman's throat, ready to pierce her neck. Around him, several Dothraki had created a semi-circle to keep the woman from fleeing, and to assist Ser Jorah if it was required. Many of them took notice of Pete and quickly backed away from his pale form, looks of distrust and weariness in their eyes.
"Having trouble with women, my lord?" Ser Jorah asked with some dry amusement as he kept the tip of his sword under the glaring woman's chin before he signaled for several Dothraki to come bind her hands.
"You could say that..." Peter said as he wiped away the last bits of blood that leaked from his now fixed nose, it still hurt, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad a few moments ago "You know who she is, by any chance?"
"I do not." Ser Jorah shook his head as he stepped back and sheathed his sword as the woman's hands were bound behind her by several Dothraki riders "I was about to ask you who she was myself considering I saw her running from your tent."
"Well I don't know who she is, all I know is, she's someone that likes to sneak into other peoples tents, use their beds, then kick them in the faces." Peter scowled at the woman, who returned his gaze with a glare "Hey, you're the one who attacked me and kicked me in the face! So don't look at me like I'm the villain here!"
"Kim jesteście ludzie?" he woman said, her gaze flickering between the two.
Peter and Ser Jorah stared at her for a moment before the former looked to the Knight "What'd she say?"
"Can't say, my lord, I don't recognize the tongue she's using." Ser Jorah frowned as he eyed the woman up and down, taking note of her clothing style, it was vaguely reminiscent of Westeros, but there was subtle differences in it.
"Does anyone else here know what she said?" Peter said as he turned and looked around at the various Dothraki men, and some women, who were all looking at him with varying looks of weariness "Anyone at all? No, seriously, anyone? All of your travels over Essos and none of you have bothered to learn any other language?"
Even Peer has dabbled into a few others, mainly Valyarian on account Dany wanted him to learn.
When no one came forth that might know what the unknown women was saying, Peter huffed and looked back towards Ser Jorah, who was looking at him with some concern. A look the woman bound and held at sword point shared.
"My lord, is your back... fine?" he asked hesitantly.
Peter quirked a brow at this "Uhh, yes, why?"
"Have you seen your back, as of late?" Ser Jorah asked.
"What's wrong with it? Is something stuck to it?" Peter asked as he tried to look over his shoulder and down at his back, he didn't feel anything on it.
"Czy jest chory na coś?" the woman asked, her eyes lingering on Peter.
Peter felt his brow twitch at this "Would one of you please tell us what's wrong with our back already?"
Ser Jorah hummed before he gestured for the woman to be taken away "Perhaps it'll be best if I showed you, do you have a mirror I can use?"
Confused, Peter slowly shook his head, casuing the Knight to sigh and gesture for him to follow. Sparing one last glance at the unknown woman as she was taken away, Peter followed Ser Jorah further into the city of Dothraki tents.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Peter asked as he and Ser Jorah maneuvered their way through cramped rows of tents, makeshift stables for the Dothraki's mounts, slave pens, lots for the wagons, and the odd pack of dogs.
"I have a bronze mirror we can use to show your back." Ser Jorah answered as he held his arm out to stop Peter and waited as a trio of mounted Dothraki passed them by, their horses neighing nervously as they neared Peter and were just barely kept under control by their riders.
"Is there like a mark on my back?" Peter inquired, curious as to why everyone seemed put off with his back today.
Maybe he should've grabbed something to wear before he decided to follow after Ser Jorah with his torso bare, if only so that not everyone they pass doesn't look at him with suspicion, fear and weariness, followed by whispered words in their guttural language as he passes them by. Thankfully the walk wasn't too far, and they reached Ser Jorah's tent, set up only a few dozen meters away from where Khal Drogo's Khalasar ends, and the Lady Silver's portion of the camp begins.
"Give me a moment, my lord." Ser Jorah said as he quickly entered his tent, leaving a shirtless Peter outside.
The young Westerosi man sighed and spared his surroundings a quick look, a number of Dothraki were staring at him, casuing him to fidget.
"Did anyone not tell these people it's rude to stare?" Peter muttered as he looked back to Ser Jorah's tent in time to see the man emerge with a small mirror in his hand.
"Turn around." he said while bringing the mirror up so Peter will be able to see his own reflection.
Wordlessly Peter turned then looked back over his shoulder to see what in Seven Hells had everyone worrying about him-
Oh.
Ohhhhh.
"What in the name of the Seven and Fourteen...?" Peter uttered in shock as he stared at his back's reflection.
Starting from the base of his skull and traveling all the way down his spine, a dark inky shadow seems to have taken route, just underneath the skin and if his eyes weren't deceiving him, roots of some kind seemed to be erupting along the sides of this shadow and burrowing deeper into his body. Around his shoulder blades, this shadow, whatever it was, seemed to gather the most and spread out towards his arms where Peter had no doubt lead all the way down to his wrists, where that strange black vine or rope emerged. With a shaking hand, Peter reached up and touched this shadowed area and saw the shadow seemingly shiver and pulse, making it and the roots spreading from it up and down his spine darken considerably before lightening again.
"Holy fuck!" Peter shuddered as he turned away from the sight, unable to look at it for much longer.
"Whatever ails you, it seems to have grown worse." Ser Jorah said.
At this, Peter couldn't help but let out a sharp, mocking laugh "Oh really? I thought it was getting better. I mean just recently I've found I can shoot black vines from my fucking hands!"
And Peter was just starting to think that whatever he was infected with, whatever has taken root in his body, was actually something could end up being good for him. But after seeing his back, Peter couldn't help but wonder if he was perhaps instead cursed.
"Hmm, we'll be reaching Qohor soon. Khal Drogo will no doubt collect gifts and tribute from the Free City so as to avoid being sacked, and meet with any merchant caravans that wish to make the journey to Vaes Dothrak under his protection. We'll use that time to seek out anyone that might know what afflicts you." Ser Jorah said as he set the mirror down "Aside from the Maestors of the Citadel, and the Monk Healers of Yi Ti, I can't think of anyone else but the 'sorcerers' of Qohor that can help you with... whatever this is."
"Oh joy..." Peter groaned as he brought his hands up and pressed the heels of his wrists into his eyes before he dragged his hands down his face in frustration.
First he gets kicked in the face by a strange woman, then he finds that something is taking literal root in his back and the only ones that might be able to help him presently will be some 'sorcerer' from Qohor.
There couldn't be a person in all of the Known World with worse luck than him.
...
And done.
Next chapter, Looking for the Path...
answers to reviewers' questions or statements:
uzu i-sa: Unlike the book or show version of Dany, she has no reason to slowly grow to love Drogo or become endured to the Dothraki culture. She's already in love with someone, Peter, and she has no desire to live out his and her life as part of the Dothraki. We'll be seeing more of his abilities very soon, and will begin the first steps of slowly forming his reputation across the Known World. More scenes with Peter, Silver and Doreah are to come.
Gzilla54: Honestly, no, mainly because I've never really gotten into Final Fantasy. I don't even know what's going on with that series half the time.
Slim A Lou Prime: Oh, don't worry, a 'war mode' for Peter's symbiote is coming, multiple forms even, and the reactions will vary from awe... to horrified.
Frosty Wolf: Plus, with so many people dictating her life, Peter is the first real choice she feels she's made and she doesn't want to lose that.