Daenerys I

"The Stallion who Mounts the World has no need for iron chairs," said her Sun-and-stars with grim finality. Perhaps it was for the best. With her brother dead, there was nothing left to lead her back to the Seven Kingdoms, lands she'd never known. If they would not rise for Viserys, why would they rise for her, a girl with a foreign husband who would seem a savage to them? It was folly. These were her people now.

After the ritual presentation to the Dosh Khaleen, the council of crones that, after a fashion, led the Dothraki people, Drogo took his Khalasar east, far east. They passed first through the Bone Mountains, then around a barren sandy desolation, into another sea of grass, though queer grass few Dothraki had seen before. These were the lands of the Zadoth Rakhi, the striped horse men. Though the name was similar, they couldn't look more different from the Dothraki. Ser Jorah explained they were called the Jogos Nhai, an ancient people. They were short, with strange, pointed heads, and rode upon black-and-white striped zorses, whose smell their own mounts greatly disliked.

Drogo meant to turn the Khalasar south to plunder the lands around the Jade Sea, but when Dany's silver snorted and reared at her first sight of zorses, Drogo declared he'd make a gift of them to her. That gift, after Dothraki fashion, was dead zorses and many a slave taken. The Jogos Nhai traveled in small bands and could not resist a khalasar such as Drogo led; that was plain. Their outriders fought half a hundred battles, hunting the striped riders, filling them with arrows and leaving their corpses to rot in the sun. It was more sport than war, and soon they had their fill of it, for these plains were dry, and watering spots were few.

The slaves they took to the Trader Town, which was a sprawling great city to Dany's eyes, greater than Pentos or Tyrosh, at least. Many caravans heading east or west passed by that way. The man who had charge of the Trader Town was styled not lord or king or magister, but general. The great Pol Qo's writ ruled here. He commanded half again as many soldiers as Drogo's khalasar had people. They wore iron-studded armor and carried bows, spears, and swords. About half were mounted. Once it was known that the Dothraki came bearing gifts and did not intend an attack, at least not now, Pol Qo sent an emissary, begging for a meeting.

Though the Yi Tish general liked it not, Dany was invited too. Ladies were esteemed but little in Yi Ti, Ser Jorah explained helpfully. Most women were confined to a private wing of the house and did not converse with guests. Pregnant women especially were kept well away from strangers. But Drogo and Pol Qo lacked a common tongue, and needs must. Daenerys acted as interpreter, conversing in High Valyrian with a scribe in service to Pol Qo.

"Tell the lord of horses that the great Pol Qo, first of the Orange Emperors, means to strike south and wrest control of the empire from the pretender who sits in Yin, on the Jade Sea. He would invite the horse people to share in his glory."

This, she relayed to her husband as best she could.

"I like not an alliance with the monkey men," Drogo answered. "These riders of his are nothing against mine."

"But we are heading south as well," Dany pointed out helpfully. "If nothing else, Pol Qo knows the way."

To this, Drogo smiled. "Dan ares wife is wise. Tell the monkey king I will ride with him!"

So they struck south, struck like lightning. Rhaego, their son, was born with the scent of a burning city in Dany's nostrils. When the young khalakka came into the world with Drogo's copper skin and Dany's silver hair, it gave the khal such strength and courage that none could stand against him. They swept away a dozen armies the Azure Emperor in Yin sent to stop them, riding them down like wheat before the scythe. Their arakhs had many a harvest, cutting down soldiers in studded armor of like fashion to Pol Qo's men.

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Such terror did Drogo's Dothraki inspire in the Yi Tish that once he was outside the gates of Yin, the capital, the cravens sent them the head of the Azure Emperor and opened the gates without a fight. The general Pol Qo put on the sacred robes and was enthroned as a living god. Let it not be said he was not a generous god, for the Orange Emperor's gifts to Drogo and Daenerys were richer than her wildest imaginings.

The khalasar had never seen such wealth: silks and slaves and spices, great palaces of jade, rare delicate foods and a slightly sweet wine that Dany liked well. Drogo didn't know what to do with it all. He swaggered arrogantly through the streets of Yin and had his son Rhaego garbed as a prince of the Yi Tish. That was when Ser Jorah started whispering, would that Dany had heeded him then!

"Pol Qo fears us now," he explained to Dany in hushed tones, though the palace they had taken residence in was so large you couldn't hear what was said in the adjoining room. "If the khal continues like this, the emperor will suspect him of having designs on the throne."

Some of the Dothraki wanted to stay in this dream of a city forever, but others grew restless. Eventually, there was talk of striking further east, where another false emperor resided. The Orange Emperor was eager to see them go. They never made it.

The false emperor was a sorcerer who sent a cloud of poison smoke into their camp. They had ridden beyond Yi Ti's civilized provinces, and were at the foot of the Mountains of the Morn, beyond help. Dany fled with Rhaego, but her boy grew sickly, struggling to breathe. Ser Jorah rode double with a senseless Drogo, who blundered into the queer mist even as Dany shouted a warning. Jorah wrapped a wet cloth over his face, but even his breathing grew labored as they fled. They never saw the khalasar again. One of her khas said Drogo's bloodriders launched a last doomed attack against the false emperor, but that was the last she ever heard of them.

One by one, the three men she loved best in life sickened and died, the poison mist corrupting their lungs from within. For reasons she knew not, it did not affect Dany.

When Rhaego succumbed first, his father lost the will to live. Drogo son of Fogo fought no more for air, closing his eyes and passing away to the nightlands.

Her bear, her sweet old knight, lasted a little longer. His final words were of love for her. A khaalessi must not weep.

But was she a khaalesi still? She had no khal, no khalasar. She had nothing but two dead men, a dead baby, and three dragon eggs, but she was a thousand leagues from any market where she could sell the things. Still, it comforted her to hold them. The stone-scaled wonders made Dany feel warm and strong, even in these bitter mountains beyond the edge of the world. How many could say they'd seen as many wonders as she had? At least she knew love before the end.

With Drogo's own arakh, Daenerys Targaryen cut logs for his funeral pyre. The trees here were ugly, black, misshapen things that bled dark sap that looked like blood in the night. She hacked at them until her hands were blistered and raw. It took three days.

When she had enough wood, Dany arranged Drogo, Jorah, and little Rhaego together. A king, a prince, and a noble knight. She would smile down on them if she could, but all of her smiles were gone, never to return.

Dany lit the fire. The evil black logs that were so difficult to hack to pieces burned well, at least. Once the fires roared high enough, she gathered her dragon eggs in her arms, said a final farewell, and joined her family in the flames.