Book 3: Dragonfire

Chapter 11 - The Dosh Khaleen

They waited until night to sneak into Vaes Dothrak, sticking to the shadows with ease. Lyon was in her prime, soundless against the noise of the night. Jorah lead them through a stables where they encountered a Dothraki couple rutting in the hay.

"I should've been born a Dothraki." Daario lamented.

"Instead you were born a manwhore." Lyon countered to Daario's amusement.

They followed Jorah further, down an alleyway. A sickening memory flashed before Lyon's eyes as two Dothraki men advanced on them from the other end. Lyon moved to flee, but caught Jorah shaking his head. He rose and began walking toward the two men. Finding no other option, Lyon followed with Daario ahead of her. She watched as Jorah spoke in Dothraki, the meaning behind their exchange unknown to her. Lyon did her best to plaster an earnest look on her face, but the Dothraki's expressions betrayed nothing. It was only when one Dothraki said something and the other left in a sprint that Lyon knew Jorah's ruse had failed. Daario gave chase to the fleeing man, leaving Lyon behind with Jorah and an unhappy Dothraki man.

Jorah took a swing at the man, but missed, creating an opening for his opponent to strike. Lyon was there in an instant. The Dothraki lifted his leg to deliver a firm knee to Jorah's gut but Lyon pressed a hand against Jorah's chest and shoved him away. With her other hand she grasped the man's thigh and lifted upwards. Between her strength and the force of the man's kick being redirected, the Dothraki man was soon on the ground on his back. Lyon landed on top of him, sending fist after fist into his face until blood flowed freely from the wounds on his face and the cracks on her knuckles. The last strike was intercepted as the man grabbed Lyon's arm and threw her off. She rolled, then bounced right back up, prowling in circles around the Dothraki as he wiped blood from his face.

He muttered something in his tongue, then lunged.

Lyon feinted, landed a quick jab to the ribs, then pounced back. The Dothraki lunged again, his fist skimming Lyon's jaw. Pain blossomed, but she took the hit without faltering, like so many times before. The Dothraki seemed perturbed at that. When he went to strike again Lyon rolled to the side, using her momentum and flexibility to twist and kick out her leg. Her foot collided with the underside of the man's chin with a sickening crack. Lyon was on her feet the instant the man fell to his knees. She braced her hands on his chin and with a quick jerk, broke the man's neck. He crumpled to the ground, lifeless. When Lyon finally looked up she found Daario had returned, and he and Jorah's round eyes were on her and the body at her feet.

"Seven hells." Daario muttered. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"A little late for that." Lyon said, but grinned regardless.

They wound their way through Vaes Dothrak, though this time they were careful enough not to get caught. Jorah headed the group, leading the way to the temple of the Dosh Khaleen. Every now and again he would glance back at Lyon, who stuck to the shadows as if she had done so her whole life. Her bright green eyes shone in the darkness, reflecting the moonlight as they darted to and fro in search of danger. Daario trailed from behind. Several times Lyon would tut her tongue and go still, signaling Daario and Jorah to stop. Each time, Dothraki would step out in front of them and pass by. Lyon's hearing was keen and there was something not entirely human in the way her eyes shone. Both Jorah and Daario found themselves wondering if that was the dragon in her- the same they had seen in Daenerys. Yet this was different. Perhaps it was because of the way Lyon was trained that she stuck to the shadows so well, moved so silently, and fought with such fervor- or it could be the blood of the dragon that slumbered deep within her veins.

Regardless, it was good fortune that had brought her their way. Even if her eyes were eerily reminiscent of the wildfire Aerys Targaryen had coveted.