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Standing upon the raised platform overlooking the Greenblood River near Planky Town, Princess Arianne Martell watched with rapt interest as the pumps rose and fell out of the Greenblood. Turning with the aid of the large waterwheel and lifting considerable quantities of water into a massive basin where the water would sit and fill, allowing any sediment or debris to settle out before flowing into a channel near the top that led into a newly created aqueduct. The aqueduct would then channel the newly collected water around Planky Town before heading towards Lemonwood, the seat of House Dalt, to provide them with a steady supply of water for their crops and people. Ideally, she would have preferred the aqueduct to run all the way to Sunspear to provide her own House with the highly valuable freshwater. But the distance was simply too great for an untested and unproven method of water delivery. So, until she could prove the idea valid, which she was sure would happen in no time at all, she would have to settle for providing water to one of her more powerful bannerman.
"Everything seems to be working perfectly Princess Arianne, not that I ever had any doubts."
Glancing towards her companion on this inspection, Arianne discreetly eyed the Head of House Dalt and ruler of Lemonwood, Ser Deziel Dalt while she kept her person facing the flowing water before her. She could feel his eyes on her body, particularly on her rear as she walked around the platform inspecting the basin and pumps for any signs of leaking water. The man was unmarried and nearly ten years her senior, but she knew that he had once considered himself the premier match for her hand. In fact, so had his brother, Ser Andrey, for mostly the same reasons. And apparently not even her father's longstanding and continued rebuffing of his offer of marriage was enough to keep his eyes from wandering.
"It is just a shame that you are unable to stay longer to enjoy the fruits of your labors, Princess," Ser Deziel continued as the two completed their inspection, finding no issues with the process. "Blessing Lemonwood with this gift Princess, it is beyond priceless and will do much to aid our people. And I would be remiss if I could not show you my full appreciation for all that you've done for my people and the people of Dorne."
'Apparently he still harbors thoughts of becoming my Prince Consort,' Arianne wanted to huff. She knew that when she'd selected Lemonwood and Planky Town as the first place to build the waterwheel and pump system that she would have to deal with Ser Deziel. She'd had hope that the years had cooled his infatuation with her. But she was wrong. Very, very wrong. Unfortunately for Ser Deziel, and the many other men of Dorne that hoped to capture her hand, there was only one that she would even consider taking as her Prince Consort now. While part of her wanted to drag her beloved wolf to the nearest place of faith and seal their bond in the eyes of the gods and the law, she knew that she had to be careful. Her father and uncle knew of his true parentage. She could see the game they were playing, how they hoped to get her beloved to declare for the Iron Throne, making her not just the Princess of Dorne, but also Queen of Westeros. And while it would be a lie to say she had not also thought such thoughts, even perhaps fantasized about them, she would not push Jon to take the Throne. Should he wish it, he would have her and Dorne's support. But she wanted the decision to come from him and him alone.
"You should save your appreciation for the creator, Hilda of Winterfell," Arianne rebuffed gently. "While your offer is appreciated, Lord Deziel, my return to Sunspear is necessary as an envoy of the North is due to arrive soon. With my father back in the Water Gardens for now, it falls upon me to see to their arrival and settling in the Sunspear."
The Lord of Lemonwood did nothing to hide his displeasure at her mentioning of the North. He was one of the many nobles of Dorne that painted all of those who fought for Robert Baratheon with the same brush, regardless of their reasoning for rebelling against the Throne. "Pah, those barbarians. They're beneath you Princess, and the fact that you even graced them with your presence in the North should be more than enough to show them that Dorne…appreciates their trade. You shouldn't have to sully yourself by being in their mangy, filthy presence."
Her arm that now wore the water talisman twitched reflexively as she itched to call up a sphere of water to encase the man's head. But she resisted the urge to drown the man. 'He dares to insult Jon! I'll – no. Calm yourself, Arianne. Ygritte is the rash one. Not you.'
"Have a care how you speak, Lord Deziel," Arianne replied coolly, keeping as much anger and frustration out of her voice as possible. "The North has become the premier trading partner of Dorne. Despite our differences arising from the events at the end of the Rebellion, which nearly caused the North to turn against their allies. They have been nothing but cordial and welcoming to Dorne and her people. And until that changes, we will show them the same respect."
Deziel looked like he would rather eat a slab of rotten meat, but the man was loyal enough to her family to respectfully keep his more colored opinion to himself. "As you wish, Princess. But I feel I must warn you. There have been…rumors. Most distasteful rumors regarding yourself and the wolf bastard boy. Rumors that he and some wildling barbarian tried to steal their way into your bed while you were in the North."
Looking at the man, Arianne could see that he knew that these rumors were not mere rumors. Yet how he'd come across this information was anyone's guess. Though it had been some time since she'd left the North, her wolf, and their spearwife, given how fast rumors and tales spread across the land, especially when it came to the nobility, she was surprised the news hadn't reached the shores of Dorne sooner. "I thank you for informing me of such rumors and I will see that appropriate steps are taken regarding them. Now, if you'll excuse me. I can see my cousins have arrived with our mounts. I must begin my return to Sunspear."
Deziel didn't appear satisfied with her non-answer to his unspoken question, but again his loyalty won out and he merely nodded and stepped aside. "As you say, Princess Arianne. It has been a pleasure housing you, Princess. And if you need anything, House Dalt is always open to yourself and those of House Martell in whatever capacity you might require of us."
Nodding, Arianne made a quick retreat away from the Lord, feeling his gaze on her as she made her way down the platform and to the ground where her cousins Tyene, Nymeria and Obara were waiting for her with several steeds and the men of House Martell that she'd taken with her when she'd set out from Sunspear several moons ago.
"Everything to your liking, cousin?" Tyene, her closest cousin and all but her sister, asked as Arianne quickly mounted her sand steed and urged the beast forward.
"Yes," Arianne nodded as their horses walked across the wooden roads of Planky Town. "The basins are holding, and the water is flowing without issue."
Nudging her horse forward, Nymeria glanced first at Arianne before turning her sight back to the platform they'd just left. "Lord Deziel is still watching you."
"Watching my ass and trying to picture my tits bouncing, more likely," Arianne replied, drawing a laugh from Nymeria and Tyene.
"No doubt," Tyene managed to get out between chuckles. "Though I must say, I highly approve of your current choice of bedmate. Speaking of the wolf, any chance we will finally be able to fulfill the pact we made while he and your spearwife are residing in the Sunspear? After hearing of your nights…I'm anxious to see if he truly is as skilled as you so loudly proclaimed back in Winterfell from behind closed doors."
Arianne's face heated slightly at the tease. Her cousins, and her uncle for that matter, had not let her forget just how…vocal she and Ygritte had become when they were with Jon. And as for the pact she'd made with Tyene… Well, she was sure that, given the proper timing of her asking, she could convince Jon and Ygritte to allow Tyene to join them at least once. The two had made the pact when they were younger and as thick as thieves, promising each other that at some time they would share a man between them. The pact had almost led to them sharing their first time together with Ser Andrey Dalt. The two had even managed to get him into a room with them. But before they could even start, Andrey finished in his pants, ending the encounter in a more than slightly awkward manner.
"I'm not the one you need to convince, cousin," Arianne replied, fighting to keep her composure as thoughts of her, Tyene, Jon, and Ygritte began running through her mind. "Convince Jon and Ygritte of the matter, and I will welcome you with more than just open arms."
Tyene got a bright look in her eye as she urged her horse ahead at a trot. "Well, what are we all waiting for then? Let's get back to Sunspear already and greet our friends from the frozen wasteland and introduce them to true Dornish hospitality."
Staring out the small open window in his cabin and letting the cool sea air wash over his face, Jon watched with excitement coursing through his body as the tall tower known as the Sunspear steadily grew larger and larger as the Sea Wolf approached the small port situated just outside the walls of the city.
"Ye been watchin out dat window since ye got up from bed dis mornin, Jon. Are we finally at this damn Sunspear place da Princess kept talkin about?"
Turning away from the window, he eyed one of his two companions. His heart racing as it always did when he saw her, especially as of late. Ygritte was sitting up in their shared bed, even though the cabin had room for a second cot she had refused to sleep separate from him. And as was usual since they'd past the Stormlands, she was not wearing a single stitch of clothing. Her reasoning for not being dressed so was simple. It was far, far too hot to wear clothing in their cabin or anywhere, for that matter. But thankfully he had managed to convince her to at least put on a loose shirt and pants the few times she left the cabin. Men of the North were made of cold and iron, but even he did not want to test a bunch of sailors who'd been at sea for weeks by having a beautiful woman like Ygritte prancing naked around the deck. Jon at least had experience with the heat, otherwise he'd probably be in the same condition as Ygritte. The same could be said of the sailors with them. In fact, there was only one other that disliked the heat as much as Ygritte, and that was Jon's other cabin mate, Ghost. The direwolf pup, though he couldn't really be called a 'pup' anymore seeing as how he easily came up to Jon's midsection, spent every moment on board the Sea Wolf either hiding in their cabin, or being up on deck and moving from shaded area to shaded area.
"Almost," Jon nodded before motioning for her to join him. "You can see the Sunspear from here."
Ygritte gracefully slid out from the bed, letting the thin sheet that'd been covering her slip from her pale skin and to the bed, leaving her completely bare before him and instantly making him uncomfortably hard. "Gods, woman," Jon sighed as he watched her hips sway and her tits bounce. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
Ygritte's smile was positively wicked as she shamelessly reached down and grabbed his length through his pants. "Of course I do, Jon. Why do ya think I do it? And besides, ya give back far more when yer worked up to the point where ya lose control of dat wolf will of yers." Leaving him, Ygritte leaned her head out the small window and looked out into the distance. "Dat's the Sunspear? Da big tower over there that looks like a cock?"
"It doesn't look like a cock," Jon replied almost immediately. A few months ago, her comment would've more than likely gotten a rise out of him. But after being with both Ygritte and Arianne, at the same time no less, and after spending months with Ygritte, he liked to think he'd developed something of a resilience to her constant relating just about everything to sex.
"Ye don't look at your cock from the same direction I do," Ygritte shot back, jutting her chin towards the tower. "That tower got something like a round head at da top and a long smooth length. And if it has two buildin's at the base…then ye can't tell me dat the one who built the thing wasn't tryin to compensate for his wee cock."
Shaking his head, Jon decided to drop the topic as he knew there would be no changing her mind. He just hoped that Ygritte wouldn't comment to Arianne that she thought her home looked like a cock. "It shouldn't be too much longer until we're ashore," Jon said, moving away from her and looking around the room as he started to go through what they needed to pack away. "The Sea Wolf is too large to fit into the small harbor attached to Sunspear, so we'll have to take a skiff ashore. But before we do that, we need to pack up all of our stuff. The Sea Wolf won't be waiting around for us so—"
His words died as he turned around to find Ygritte standing right behind him. With a shove, Jon fell backwards onto the bed. Not giving him a chance, Ygritte then quickly straddled his waist and began working on his pants and shirt. "I won't be havin ya too meself for some time once we're back with our Princess," she said, managing to expose him enough so that her warmth was pressed against his length. "And while I don't mind sharin ya with Arianne, I know she is gonna want some time with ye on her own. So, I intend to get one last good fuck out of ya bef—"
A loud knock stopped her words, and Jon had the sudden urge to violently kill whoever it was that'd knocked. "Who is it?" Jon near shouted, his hands caressing Ygritte's hip and encouraging her to move against him.
"Um…Beggin yer parden, milord," a voice stuttered from outside his door just as Ygritte let out a loud throaty moan of pleasure as he slid into her. "But Cap'n Manderly requests yer presence up on the deck when um…when yer um…done."
Ygritte leaned down so that her lips were near his ear as she continued her leisure pace of raising and lowering her hips upon him. "Ya think he's tuggin his wee cock while listenin to us?"
If there was one thing that he'd learned about Ygritte during his time with her, it was that she seemed to enjoy fucking in almost public places rather than the isolated safety of their shared chambers. For her, it almost seemed like the greater the chance of being caught, the more she enjoyed it. And honestly, it would be a lie to say that he didn't also enjoy it. Though the one time he had to cover her mouth to prevent her from making any noise in the library while his sister Arya walked by was too much for his tastes. Tightening his hold on her hips, he started going harder, urging her to make those delicious noises he enjoyed. "Then let's give him something to listen to."
By the time the two had finished and packed their belongings, the Sea Wolf had closed the distance to the Sunspear and the crew was working on lowering the heavy anchors to keep the ship in place while others worked on lowering the skiff and getting the trade supplies loaded. Walking towards the bow of the ship, Jon immediately spotted the round form of Ser Wendel Manderly.
"There yer are, lad," Ser Wendel said as he nodded his head towards Jon and then again towards Ygritte. "My lady."
Ygritte immediately frowned in distaste. "I ain't no 'lady' like Val."
Ser Wendel smirked and winked towards Jon. "Well, if ya stay around Jon long enough, you're bound to end up becoming his Lady Stark. Especially if you two continue the way ya have been during this voyage. I swear, you two were almost as bad as Prince Oberyn and his Lady Ellaria when they were aboard."
"Just almost?" Ygritte tsked in disappointment. "Guess we'll just be havin ta try harder next time then, Jon."
Shaking his head, Ser Wendel's amusement slowly faded from his face as he turned his gaze towards the shoreline and the people gathering on the docks, waiting for their arrival. "I hope yer ready for this, lad. This will be the first time you'll be away from yer father and the Sorcerer. And you'll be alone in Dorne. House Martell might like ya…but keep your eyes open. Just like the North, Dorne remembers, lad. There are many here that were old enough to fight in the Rebellion against the Targaryens. They remember well what the end of the war cost them. And that they were snubbed any form of justice or reconciliation."
"I know," Jon nodded as he watched the last of the supplies be loaded into the longboats before the crew started lowering them into the sea. "But we are not friendless here either."
"No, no, I suppose you are not, boy, especially if the tales of you, your spearwife here, and a certain Dornish Princess have any truth to them," Ser Wendel said, a gleam in his eye telling that he knew that the tales going about the North were in fact truth.
"Depends on the tale yer hearin," Ygritte shrugged. "If ya heard we be fuckin like bears in heat, then ye be right."
Coughing, Jon tried his best to put Ygritte's comment aside as he faced a now smirking Ser Wendel. "Thank you for allowing us passage, Ser Wendel."
"No problem, lad. House Manderly and the Sea Wolf are always willing to bring aid to those of House Stark," Ser Wendel nodded. "Now don't let me hold you up from your…diplomatic rendezvous with the Princess of Dorne, young Stark."
Soon after, Jon and Ygritte were both settled onto the small skiff and being rowed away from the Sea Wolf and towards the waiting crowd of Dornish that'd amassed in the small harbor. His attention though, was focused in on a small group of men wearing yellow cloth standing straight besides a small pavilion that'd been erected just off the docks. Underneath the cloth were four young women, one sitting and three standing. It was the one sitting that drew Jon's attention the most and made his heart race. If anything, Arianne had grown even more beautiful than he remembered. And now that she was back in her homeland, she had discarded the heavy furs she wore in the North, wearing just a lighter fitting sheer purple gown. 'By the gods…how is that each time I see her, her beauty seems to grow?' Jon thought as the workers on the docks began throwing ropes out to the various skiffs that were within reach.
As his own boat was tied off and Jon was able to put his feet back on dry land, hesitation and uncertainty suddenly shot through him as he watched Arianne gracefully rise from her spot and march towards him, a light smile playing across her lips as her dark hair swayed in the light breeze. 'What if she doesn't wish to continue our relationship? What if her people have put pressure on her to end things with me? Does she…Does she even still want me? And if so, how do we act? She made a spectacle with both myself and Ygritte when she left the North. But…can we repeat the same here? Before all of her people watching us?'
Deciding to be cautious just in case things had changed between them, Jon bowed politely as Arianne drew close to himself and Ygritte. "Princess Ari—"
That was about as far as he got as Arianne closed the distance between them, grabbed him by the front of his tunic, and pulled him in for the same type of smoldering kiss as she gave him when it was time for her to depart the North. "Now that," Arianne breathed, breaking the kiss. "Is how you properly greet your lover in Dorne after being separated for so long."
Letting him go, Arianne turned and repeated the same show with Ygritte, pulling the spearwife into the same type of kiss as she'd just bestowed upon Jon. The only difference between them, was that while Jon had been stunned into just standing there, Ygritte was more than ready, and willing, to reciprocate Arianne's show of affection with one of her own.
"Glad to see your time south of the Wall hasn't dulled your boldness, spearsister." Arianne smiled as the two pulled apart from one another. "Though I must say that I'm disappointed in you. I would've thought by now that you would've been able to get our man past his shyness."
"He be gettin better," Ygritte smirked as the two women talked about him as if he wasn't even there. "When we be alone, he ain't so shy. And his skill with da Lord's Kiss has certainly gotten better. But when we be out with others, he still be as shy as any of dem pious southern maids."
"Well then," Arianne smirked, looping an arm with Ygritte and all but leaving him alone on the dock. "I will have to…judge firsthand just how skilled he has become. And perhaps between the two of us we can teach him even. Whenever we are not too busy learning from each other, of course. Now come, there is much I wish to show you, my dear spearsister. Oh, and Jon, do be a dear and carry yours and Ygritte's belongings, as well as anything else we pick up on the way to the Sunspear, will you?"
Arianne didn't give him a chance to respond as she half led, half pulled Ygritte towards the road leading away from the docks and into the winding road that encircled the Sunspear. 'By the gods…these two women are going to be the death of me,' he thought, picking up both his own and Ygritte's belongings, but not before taking a moment to admire both woman's backside as they walked away from him. 'But, by the gods… What a way to go it would be!'
Dany had known, ever since she was a little girl and old enough to understand what would be expected of her, that her future husband would be chosen for her one day. At first her dreams would be of her being married to a handsome young knight or lord that would whisk her away on his steed and give her everything she ever wanted. As she grew, that knight changed from some faceless man to her brother, as she thought that, as the last two Targaryens, that her brother would take her as his wife once they'd reclaimed the Seven Kingdoms. But, as the day of her wedding came, none of her dreams or fantasies came to be. Her husband was chosen for her, yes, but it was no lord, knight, or king from Westeros. Rather it was a Khal, a Horse Lord of the Dothraki that was the one she would marry. And if she were being entirely truthful, she could've done far worse for herself. Drogo was handsome, strong, and carried himself with a confidence that she had rarely ever seen. But while she had no real complaints about her husband… It was the wedding itself that was testing her ability to remain calm as she watched the spectacle taking place before her.
A Dothraki wedding was…chaotic, to say the least. And festive…very, very festive. Meat of just about every variety she could think of was roasting on multiple cooking fires while ale, wine and spirits flowed freely through those in attendance. As for those in attendance, most of whom were part of her husband's khalassar, they were clearly enjoying themselves to the fullest. Men and women were…copulating in the open while both men and women surrounded them, cheering them on. She knew, after talking with Dorea, that such acts were common amongst the Dothraki. And that her first time with Drogo would be out in the open, albeit away from everyone else to give them some measure of privacy.
But while she could handle the wanton sexual displays, it was the violence that was making her knuckles turn white as she gripped her dress tightly. The celebration had been going for perhaps less than a quarter of the day, and already she'd counted five deaths amongst the ones who were soon to be her people. After watching the second death, this one caused by two men that were fighting over the right to mount a woman who was on her hands and knees before them, she overheard Illyrio say to her brother that a Dothraki wedding without at least five deaths was considered a dull affair.
'Well…I guess by my husband's standards this is not a 'dull affair' at all,' Dany thought to herself as she watched a sixth man die. 'Though I don't know how much more excitement the people of Pentos can take. First the arrival of the Northern dreadnaught a few days past…and now the largest khalassar in Essos arriving at their gates. I'm sure the people of the city will be glad when we leave.'
The unexpected arrival of the massive vessel that'd quickly become a legend on the Narrow Sea was a cause for no small amount of tongue wagging. Her brother had raged at the mere sight of the vessel. Yelling to any who listened that the North had no right to control such a vessel, and that one of his first acts once he regained his throne would be to demand the ship be gifted to him as part of the North's tribute to his reign. She'd even overheard her brother having to be talked out of some insane plot to steal the ship while it was in port. Mercifully, the vessel left almost as quickly as it arrived, leaving many to wonder just why it had even stopped in port in the first place. After all, how much trade could be done in less than two days at port?
Hearing a grunt from her husband, accompanied by a smirk and a light comment in the Dothraki tongue, Dany forced thoughts of the Sea Wolf from her mind as she noticed a line of people, mostly Dothraki, had formed before the two of them. 'Time for the gifts,' she realized as the first man came forward, one of her husband's bloodriders, and presented an arakh to her. She once again thanked whatever gods, or the Force, that she'd been blessed with Dorea's service as a handmaiden. The former pleasure slave had a surprisingly extensive knowledge of the Dothraki and had imparted that knowledge to Dany when it became clear that Drogo would be the one to claim her hand. Meeting the bloodrider's eyes, she gave him a curt nod before motioning for him to present it to Drogo. The bloodrider froze. Normally she was to deny the gifts given to her by her husband's bloodriders before presenting them to her husband in a show of submission. But she would not be subservient. And judging by the smirk, and the quick words from Drogo which brought the bloodrider out of his stupor enough to give the arakh to the Khal, she guessed that he liked her show of strength.
After the bloodriders had presented their traditional gifts; an arakh, a bow, and a whip, the rest of those who'd brought gifts were allowed to come forward with their gifts. Having been on the run with her brother for almost her entire life, Dany had rarely, if ever, received any gifts besides maybe a new dress from those who'd taken her and her brother in for a time. But now, now she was being almost besieged with gift after gift after gift. Lace dresses and underclothes. Riding leathers. Hair pins made from gold and silver and adorned with more jewels than she'd ever seen in her life. One man had even come forward and offered them a variety of snakes, though for what purpose a box of clearly poisonous snakes could serve, she hadn't the faintest idea. And there were even a few who presented her and her new husband with bags or even small chests of gold. It'd taken her a while to realize, but soon enough as more and more gold was being presented to her and her husband, she began realizing the gifts for what they truly were. They were not gifts meant to be well wishes. They were bribes. Offerings presented to a Dothraki Khal and his Khaleesi in hopes that once the ceremony was completed that they would take their khalasar and leave without bloodshed.
As the last of the offerings were being made, Dany noted a man approach, unlike any of the other's that'd approached her and Drogo so far. The man was, old. Not old enough to have white hair yet, but old enough that he could have children her own age. The man's clothes, while clearly finely made, were worn. And in his hands, instead of gold or silk or jewels, he held a collection of books. After giving a bow and greeting to her husband, the older man turned his attention to Dany and held the books out to her. "A small gift, for the new Khaleesi. Songs and histories of the Seven Kingdoms."
While Dany didn't know who this man was, she knew where he was from almost immediately as his crisp accent was the same as Jon's and Lord Nox's. "You…You are from the – from Westeros," she said, just barely managing to catch her slight slip. It wouldn't do her any favors for others to know that she could spot a Northern accent.
"Aye, khaleesi," the man nodded. "Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island. I served your father for many years, Khaleesi. Gods willing, I look forward to serving the rightful King of Westeros once more before my time comes to join the gods in eternal rest."
Daenerys was immediately set on guard. There was something in the man's words that just…screamed wrong. She could sense…so many conflicting emotions coming from the man that it was next to impossible to tell just what was genuine from him and what was not. "You have my thanks, Ser Jorah, for your fine gifts," Dany nodded, taking the books from him and handing them off to one of Drogo's bloodriders, who gave the books a look of disgust before turning and adding them to the pile of presents off to the side.
His gift given, Ser Jorah nodded his head and moved to stand off to the side, only to be hailed by her brother who invited the man to sit next to him. 'I'll have to ask Jon about him later,' Dany thought, as she kept an eye on Ser Jorah as he sat down next to her brother and began talking to him. 'No true man of the North would so readily and gleefully say that they served my father…not after what he did. And he said that he wanted to serve the true King of Westeros. Not a lie. But he didn't say who that King might be. A clever usage of words to speak the truth without truly speaking the truth.'
Hearing a slight disturbance from the Dothraki, Dany put thoughts of Ser Jorah out of her mind as she readied herself to receive the next well-wisher. But she nearly jumped to her feet as she saw just who it was that was approaching her and Drogo. 'Wha…What is he doing here?' she thought, her heart thundering in her chest as she watched Domeric Bolton walking towards them with his head held high while four Unsullied guards and a young woman she recognized as his translator walked behind him, three of whom were carrying chests of varying sizes.
Coming to a stop before the dais, Domeric bowed politely as the young translator stepped up next to him, ready to do her duty. "Mighty Khal Drogo, Khaleesi Daenerys. It is an honor to meet you both today, I am Domeric Bolton, formerly of the North and now of Pentos. I have come before you today to wish you both good fortune, and to present you both with gifts worthy of two such as yourselves."
Off to the side, she could see that Ser Jorah had quickly risen to his feet, hand on his sword. Standing beside the older man, looking a combination of furious and curious was her brother. The action hadn't apparently gotten past Drogo's notice either as her husband tilted his head towards where her brother and Ser Jorah were standing. There was a slight grin on his face as he spoke, his words being translated almost as quickly as he spoke them. "My khaleesi's brother and the old bear don't seem to like you."
Domeric's eyes passed over her brother and Ser Jorah Mormont. While he looked indifferently at her brother, his eyes held little more than disdain and disgust for the older man. "My family, and the North, fought against your Khaleesi's father and overthrew him when he proved himself unfit for rulership, and I make no apologies for that. However, we in the North believe that the sins of the parents are not inherited by the child. And as for Jorah Mormont…while neither of us can return to our homes, I at least live with the knowledge that I did not run like a coward when Lord Stark came for me."
Both her brother and Jorah took a step forward, but Drogo stopped both men with a mere gesture. 'That—That is true strength and power,' Dany realized, as she watched her husband look appreciatively at Domeric. "Strong words, Domeric Bolton," Drogo said, his words once again being translated as he spoke. "You may present what you have to offer. But if your gifts displease, I will leave you to my khaleesi's brother and the old bear and enjoy the outcome."
Nodding, Domeric motioned for the three Unsuiled carrying his gifts to come forward. "Your strength and skill as a warrior is one with few equals, Khal Drogo, and as such, you deserve a weapon worthy of your skill."
One of the Unsullied set down the longest of the boxes and lifted the lid. Laying within on a bed of red silk was an arakh. But it was unlike any she had ever seen. The blade was so…pure. Shining so brightly it almost appeared white with ripples interwoven throughout the blade. It was…beautiful. "Valyrian steel," Domeric stated, drawing more than a few murmurs from the assembled crowd.
As for her husband, even though he maintained his stoic façade, Dany could feel the excitement rolling off him in waves. Getting up from his spot, Drogo waved off his bloodrider that had stepped forward to receive the gift for him. Reaching down, Drogo picked up the Valyrian steel arakh. Giving the blade a few test swings, her husband proceeded to twist and turn, the blade moving in a blur of movement as Drogo fought against an enemy only he could see. Seemingly satisfied, Drogo nodded and, instead of placing the weapon with the rest of the gifts, he instead attached the weapon to one of his belts and retook his seat beside her.
"And for your Khaleesi," Domeric said, motioning for the next box, this one also long and thin. "A gift of beauty that once belonged to the dragon lords of old."
Rising, Dany approached the slim chest just as the Unsullied guard opened it for her. Just like with Drogo's gift, there was a bed of red silk within the chest. But unlike her husband's gift, instead of an arakh inside there was a scepter that easily measured from her elbow to the tip of her fingers. The scepter itself was made of what look silver with an ornate dragon head at the end with rubies for eyes. It was beautiful, and more than likely worth enough to purchase an entire sellsword company for time. But…there was something strange about it as well. She could feel some sort of…resonance with the scepter. And, part of the handle was strange. Ridged. And while it blended it with the rest of the scepter, it stood out to Dany as seemingly not belonging within the piece.
Taking the scepter in hand, Dany took a moment to marvel at the craftsmanship and riches that went into creating this piece. But more than that, she felt a slight…resonance within herself through the Force as she held the scepter in her hands. 'I know Domeric still has ties to the North, specifically through the Sorcerer. Did the sorcerer wish for me to have this? Or is this just a gift from Domeric without the North's knowing?'
"I have one more gift for you, Khaleesi. Or rather a gift for yourself and for your children," Domeric stated, motioning for the last Unsullied to come forward. This one holding a chest perhaps only slightly larger than a man's head.
Dany was expecting gold or perhaps jewels like many of the others had gifted her. What she was not expecting was a large scaled black egg with red markings on the tips of each scale to be within the chest. An egg. No. Not just any egg. A dragon's egg.
"Where…Where did you find this?" Dany asked, not even noticing as Illyrio frowned at the gift before whispering to one of his servants who took off running.
"In the ruins of Old Valyria," Domeric explained, earning a few sharp looks from the nearby Dothraki once his words were translated. Which was understandable, considering it was the Valyrian Empire that truly kept the Dothraki horde in check for centuries. "Ever since the Northern Sorcerer led his expedition to Valyria, a few desperate or idiotic individuals have attempted to repeat his success. Few to none have succeeded in returning. And those that have didn't last long. This egg came from one such group."
She could tell that the tale was a lie. A believable lie, but a lie nonetheless. Though, in truth, she didn't care. Especially not as she reached out and picked up the egg that laid within the chest on a bed of silk. "It's…It's warm," she breathed, looking down at the egg in her hands as if it were the most precious thing in the entire world.
"You might be able to hatch it, or perhaps not. Truth is, even with warm eggs no one has been able to successfully hatch a dragon's egg since the early days of the Seven Kingdoms. But regardless of whether it hatches or not, this egg belongs in the hands of a descendant of the Dragon Lords of Old."
Nodding her head, Dany carefully put the dragon egg back into its box and set it down next to her, waving off the bloodrider that'd stepped forward to take it from her. There was no way in any of the hells that she would allow this box to be out of her sight, or away from one she trusted any time soon. Drogo's eyes stayed on her until she was once again seated beside him, and only then did he turn his attention back to Domeric. "You may sit and eat there," Drogo said through the translator, waving towards a spot close to the dais, a place of honor. "You may kill any who disagree."
"You have my thanks, Khal Drogo," Domeric said before bowing and moving off to the side and towards the spot Drogo had given him. She had a feeling that Domeric didn't necessarily want to stay, but it would've been rude of him to decline her husband's offer, especially as he'd given Domeric a spot that was essentially equal to that of her brother's and Magister Illyrio.
Speaking of the Magister, once Domeric had taken his seat, the fat man rose to his feet and approached the dais, bringing with him two young Dothraki girls and an armed guard who was carrying a long chest that she had not seen before. "Khaleesi Daenerys, may I present to you these two as gifts from your brother," Illyrio said with a bright smile, motioning towards the two young women who were standing side by side with their heads bowed. "This one here is Irri. She will work to teach you how to ride a horse in the Dothraki style. And this one here is Jhiqui, she will teach you the Dothraki tongue."
'Slaves,' Dany quietly seethed, shooting a glance towards her brother, who was just sitting there smiling at her as if he'd done her the greatest of services. Granted, the lessons she could and would learn from these two would be vital to her adapting to the Dothraki way of life. But still…to be given to her as slaves. "I welcome you both to my service and I look forward to your lessons," she said, motioning to her left where Doreah sat just off the dais. "Please, have a seat with my other handmaiden, Doreah. And know that now that I have taken you both under my service and protection, any action taken against you will be considered taken against myself."
The two young women both brightened slightly before nodding and moving quickly to join Doreah at Dany's side. The gods only knew what the two girls had suffered through so far. But she would not let their suffering continue. "And as for myself, I have brought you a gift that, much like young Domeric here, belongs in the hands of a descendant of the Dragon Lords of Old." Grabbing the lid of the chest, Illyrio paused for dramatic effect before slowly lifting the lid to reveal the contents within.
Dany's breath caught in her throat once again as not one, but three dragon eggs, each of differing colors, were revealed to her and everyone else. "Dragon eggs, found in the Shadow Lands of Asshai," Illyrio said proudly. "Like all dragon eggs, time has turned them to stone. But they still hold some warmth and belong only in the hands of one of Valyrian descent."
Leaning forward as the chest was set down at her feet, Dany reached out and gently ran a finger across the surface of each egg. True to his word, each egg had a warmth to them. But they were mere embers when compared to the heat of the egg that Domeric had given her. And there was something else, something…dark about the eggs that she couldn't figure out. "Thank you, Magister Illyrio…brother," Dany said, nodding to each man, this time she didn't stop her husband's bloodrider as he stepped forward and collected the chest from in front of her, moving it off to the side with the rest of the gifts.
As Illyrio took his seat, she noticed that he was the last of those who had gifts to give. And as she watched her husband set his cup aside and get to his feet and walk off into the crowd, she felt the bundle of nerves that she'd managed to keep down rise up once again. 'It's time,' she realized, doing all she could to keep herself under control given what she knew was about to happen. 'Perhaps I should've done as Jon had done and gotten drunk beforehand…It would've made this…easier…maybe?'
Rising from her seat, she gathered all the strength she had as she watched her husband reappeared leading a beautiful white mare towards her by its reins. Moving slowly, yet with purpose, Dany approached the mare that her now husband was holding for her. Raising her hand, she gently caressed the horse between its eyes. While her actions might've seen ordinary, they were anything but. As her hand caressed the mare, she opened herself to the Force, using what she'd learned from Lord Nox to try and forge a connection between herself and the beast.