The Wolf In Human Clothing

Unexpected Fate

'It wasn't supposed to go like this.' Is all I could think as I stood over the corpses of my father and his killer. He'd never been defeated, this was just supposed to be a quick fight before we continued on our way to the Free City of Pentos. He wasn't supposed to be defeated in single combat. The only choice I had left before the invading Khal took our Khalasar was to challenge him like he did my father.

I've fought many men in my time as being Khal Drogo's heiress. He was the only person who ever showed me kindness even when he knew what I am. And he trained me to be better than him. He must have knew this would happen one day and that it would be up to me to defend the Khalasar when he was gone. This was my first single combat with a Khal. Now I am the Khal. 

Many of the other Khal's men wouldn't serve a girl no older then eleven years, but the others saw the benefit. If a eleven year old girl could defeat the Khal who took down Khal Drogo, how much stronger will she be when she is fully grown.

I took my time to grieve as I stood over my fathers body. I know what he would want me to do. Stealing my resolve I put my bloodied arakh back on my hip and hefted the limp body of my father onto my shoulders. I would finish what he started and put him to rest.

"kisha dothralat vi jin ajjalani!" (we ride through the night!) I shouted out to, now, my Khalasar as I carried my father's body back to my horse.

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We set up camp a little way away from the city. We rode all night and arrived just after the sun began to peak over the horizon. I ordered the new warriors to begin training with mine and the women to work with ours in the preparing of the festivities for later today. It's been hard without my father by my side to give me strength in my first day being a Khal. But he trained me well, I will prove it wasn't a mistake for him to take me in and raise me as his daughter.

I was interrupted from my thoughts as my now bloodrider, Qotho, informed me that my bloodriders are ready to ride. I quickly threw on my clothes and made sure I had all my weapons. I put on a simple breast wrap that leaves my scarred torso on full view as well as dark, leather braces that cover almost the entirety of my forearms with a dagger in each. I also wore tight, leather pants under a studded leather and fur skirt for good mobility with some protection for my legs on horse back. On my waist I slipped identical daggers, one on each side. I also quickly tamed my long and wild hair before putting it into a thick braid. Slipping on my leather boots I made sure my hidden daggers were in place before grabbing my twin arakhs and placing them across my lower back before heading out of my tent.

I made my way through camp with relative ease and few greetings. They know from past experiences not to be around me when I am upset. The fresh breeze blew the scent of cooking food and fresh blood to my nose. Looks like preparations are going well for the feast, I thought to myself trying to get my watering mouth under control. The scent of blood always makes me hungry.

Arriving at the horses I quickly made my way over to my horses. Her coat is a dark grey with lighter dots along her torso and charcoal black socks half way up her thighs. She has a beautiful silver and brown flowing mane with black roots and a matching tail. Her face is a gorgeous light grey with a darker nose. 

Wrapping my arms around her thick neck as she nuzzles me comfortingly I let myself think back to the first time I saw her. My father took me on my first raid, well really it was just me sitting behind him as he did everything. Once all the initial chaos calmed down we made our way to see our spoils. That's when I saw her. She was just a foal then, but she was the bravest and fiercest of them all. She was also the only horse to never be afraid of me when I first approached her. Being what I am makes many animals uncomfortable. It took forever to get my fathers horse to warm up to me. My father noticed the bond between us instantly and said I could have her but that I needed to raise her myself. I decided to name her Nymeria, after the warrior-queen of the Rhoynar. I also named my arakhs Visenya, and Rhaenys when I got them.

She's one of the last things I have of my father, and she is definitely the most beautiful. Unwrapping my arms from around her I threw my saddle on as quickly as I could and motioned for my bloodriders to mount as I place a foot in the stirrup. Hopping up onto the saddle I shouted out "Che dothras che drivos." before kicking Nymeria into a fast gallop towards the Free City of Pentos to finish what my father started.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Sorry this is a first short chapter but I thought it would start the next chapter better to leave it off here. For those of you who are really into game of thrones and know all of your facts, I do not. I will try my best to have the important facts straight but I will be changing this story heavily with my own twist. 

And yes this is an Arya/Daenerys fiction. But Arya has a lot of major changes, not just with her being raised by Khal Drogo. I hope you like this story and that I'm not butchering the Game Of Thrones languages.