She could see the comet in the sky, the tail long and bright scorching the blue in a vivid shade of crimson. She had never seen a thing like it, only takes of fallen stars that marked omens long forgotten. Was it to mark the birth of her dragons? To call to the world that she was reborn and House Targaryen would rule once more? Rhaenar could only hope, that she could perceive the fallen star as a sin of hope, of complete faith in herself.
"Shierah Qiya." The Dothraki told her, some speaking fearful of the streak, and others with a sense of joy. The old men had thought it an ill men, they warned her husband of the journey but he held his head high and dared them to speak of it again, a promise of no longer having their tongues being the consequences. It had been seen the night of the funeral pyre, of the awakening of her dragons, and the rebirth of her family. It was leading the Khalasar, constantly going further to their destination.
"Just beyond that rock, where the comet lays is Qarth." Jorah mentioned, his hand pointing out, guiding their eyes. Rhaenar looked, her indigo eyes taking in the red rock that sat still against the backdrop, looming a dark shadow where the camp was beginning to set up. It didn't seem far, an hour's ride at best. "The Khalasar will remain at camp until word is given otherwise."
She nodded. "And Drogo is still fully behind this? I saw the look on his face before today's ride." Jorah had become a trust member to Khal Drogo, almost on the same level she was.
Jorah nodded, reassuring his Khaleesi. "He's sure, his Kos not so much." Rhaenar huffed, shaking her head. The Kos, the men intended to follow what their Khal says for the benefit of the Khalasar; she thought some of them were getting too brave against Khal Drogo.
"They never have been understanding; I thought after the meetings we held, the power that we would give them, and the plans for something better would be enough to bring them around." Rhaenar eased, brushing back a strand of white. "I hope that they'll see Qarth as a success; I know that's it has come as a great sacrifice for them to do this."
Jorah sat still for a moment, his eyes sweeping the camp. "The Dothraki are a strange people, the fellow strength above all, believe in what they're horses think fit, and only value their Khaleesi once their Khal has passed." The Crones, the Khaleesis of dead Khals. They had made their claims, believed that her child would one day mount the world in a united Khalasar, but where was he now? He wasn't living, he wasn't breathing, he was dead; and they were wrong.
"It seems bazaar, you would think even some of them would be skeptical of Dothraki ways after what happened; yet they continue on like nothing happened." Rhaenar mused, beginning to watch members file past her as more of the Khalasar went to camp. She could see the new Dothraki boys, hair unbraided, and skin almost untouched. They rode with a nervous determination, their spirit eager to feel a fight.
"This is all they've known, Khaleesi; some of these members have only known Khal Drogo's way." Rhaenar nodded respectfully, smiling to the young boys who seemed to keep coming. Would they feel the same way their fathers did before them? Would they be as close minded to the modern ways and continue with the traditional Dothraki view? She had always wanted to be respectful to them, she knew her place within their culture but that didn't mean she couldn't be respected or introduce alternate ways to do things. The Kos needed to understand that because that was the way of her husband, not the ideals that had been implanted in them.
Rhaenar gently sparred on her horse, moving further into the camp as she went. The sun was a lot hotter here, beating relentlessly on her back as she moved cautiously through before finding her own tent. Rhaenar dropped down from her horse, her body more used to riding than it had been where she first met Khal Drogo. She laughed softly, the sound lost to the hot wind that snaked through, her hand brushing through the new horses hair. Drogo had treated her to a new one, since Silver had been slaughtered so needlessly.
After Mirri Maz Duur, carnage had been unleashed across the Khalasar; a fury that she never knew Drogo held within him. It was worse than what she had ever anticipated; worse than the anger he felt towards the merchant. She could remember begging him, on her hands and knees in front of him with tears in her eyes not to kick Daenerys from the Khalasar; her last family member.
He had wanted her slaughtered, defiled for what she had done to his family. He finally came around of course, after seeing the desperation that lined her eyes, whispered words finally muting the rage. Drogo couldn't accept her of course, having to punish her somehow; she was no longer allowed free reign over the Khalasar, she would understand that her place was below most, and only be allowed into Khalasar issues if she was directly to be involved.
It pained Rhaenar, but it was for the best; this was her family, her Khalasar, and she wasn't going to have Dany ruin this despite her good intentions. She promised to protect her no matter what, and this was Rhaenar protecting her. Doreah entered, her head popping round the door. "The dragons are here Khaleesi." Rhaenar smiled, walking behind Doreah who pulled the horse closer, four large cages strapped to it. She reached out, gripping Leirion's and Rhaegal's cages, before Doreah grasped hold of Rhaenys and Viserion.
They placed them back in the tent, before Rhaenar dismissed her, opening the cages to let them free.
Rhaenar sat silent as she watched her dragons move softly through the tent, their snouts sniffing at the furs that lined her bed. They were growing bigger, larger every day it seemed with Leirion taking the lead. She had favoured him the most, watching as he understood her more. She had bonded with him quickly because of it, though she still loved the others just the same. She sat on the bed, meat in a bowl to the side as they surrounded her; her hands reaching out to feed them. The tent rustled, her indigo eyes rushing up to meet Drogo's.
"They look good." He muttered, his swagger strong as he approached before perching to the side; Rhaegal clambering towards him.
Rhaenar shifted from the bed, standing to before approaching Drogo. "You've been busy?" She questioned softly, watching as Rhaegal clutched her leg, using her to get to Drogo. He took the small dragon within his hand, running a large finger over his head.
"Final preparations to be made for our arrival at Qarth, the stable boys have been having issues for caring for this many horses." He muttered, glancing up from the dragon. Rhaenar nodded; it was good that they weren't far, they had already been travelling a month, and supplies were beginning to run low. She knew Drogo had check provisions before they had left, and continued to monitor the consumption of the Khalasar, but she had also seen the worry stretch across his face the longer they travelled from Vaes Dothrak. "Are you sure this is what you want?" He questioned, his dark eyes falling onto her's.
Rhaenar nodded. "It feels right; like we're supposed to be here. Why do you not?" She muttered, brushing back a pale strand from her face. Drogo shook his head, his eyes seeming weary than most days. She glanced to the dragon in his hand, holding out her own before watching as Rhaegal climbed on, ready to move to their cages. "The men are ready?" She called back, looking over her shoulder.
Drogo nodded. "Practically dying for a fight." The corner of her mouth rose, a smirk breaking across her face as she closed the cage; moving on to help Leirion, Rhaenys, and Viserion. "I know you may not agree with our methods, and I know we do not always agree with yours; but I feel the change you speak of." He admitted, moving to stand behind his wife. "The Dothraki have never followed a woman like they have followed you; they have never been asked to show the respect that you ask for; you make people believe in your dream." He whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.
Her dream, they believe in her dream. But what was her dream? To rule the Seven Kingdoms? To command Dothraki hordes like no one before her? She wanted it all, she wanted the world to become a better place. Rhaenar shook her head. "They only give me respect, because of the admiration they have for you. We know if you were gone, they would slaughter me and feed me to the dogs."
"If I were to die in battle, you would be wasted in the Dosh Khaleen. I would want you to be Khal." Her chest tightened at the words he spoke, her gaze turning to capture his. There was no such thing as a woman Khal, no Dothraki man would ever respect a woman that much.
"I don't want you speaking of your death." She muttered, reaching forward to brush back a piece of his hair.
He captured her hand, his dark eyes boring into hers. "I mean it, Moon of my Life; do not allow yourself to be taken to the Dosh Khaleen if I am to fall." She nodded, agreeing with his rough words. She had never seen this side of him particularly, the fierceness that fell over his face was full of devotion and directness. "I've spoken to Rakharo, Qotho, and my bloodriders; they've agreed."
Rhaenar frowned, not understanding. "Why are you doing this? Are you having second thoughts on Qarth?" He shook his head, but she could sense the hesitation. "I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with; you are my Khal, and I trust your judgement."
"Qarth is the right thing to do; I'm just trying to ensure if my death was to occur, that you would achieve everything you fight so hard for." She nodded, hearing his words. This was out of character for Drogo. "I lost you once, I'm only making precautions." He muttered, leaving it at that. Rhaenar grasped his hand before pressing a kiss to his knuckles, showing that she understood.
He grasped her cheek softly, looking her over. "Tonight we'll get the soldiers ready; do you have the garment you needed?" Rhaenar nodded, her eyes drifting to the chest in the corner. He turned, stripping his own garments from his body before standing bare in the centre of the tent. Rhaenar's eyes drifted across his muscles, the thick ripple more prominent than before, and his braid longer with more bells. Drogo was impressive, growing more and more of a man than before, if that was even possible.
Rhaenar watched as he fumbled around for a moment before grasping hold of his new riding pants. They were tighter, clinging to the leg in a dark leather but not so tight that he wouldn't be able to ride. Her eyes grew wide as she watched him slip them on before tightening them up, his assets calling to her. Rhaenar watched him fumble with the breastplate, the shaped leather to look similar to his chest with pieces of blue metal lining through it. She had, had dragon scales made in blue to line the back piece, with his golden belts to attach to the bottom of his breastplate. He kept on his arm braces, and added feather pieces to his braid; new black boots adorning his feet to add extra protection.
Drogo straightened up, brushing back his long braid before glancing to his wife. It seemed so unlike him, yet it made his usual Dothraki wear stand out amongst it; not taking away his position of Khal. He looked glorious, like a King ready to sit upon an Iron Throne. Rhaenar bit her lip as she gazed him up and down, a smirk falling upon his lips as he caught her indigo eyes, embarrassment flushing her cheeks. "Later." He teased, Rhaenar rolling her eyes.
She went to her own chest, her head held high as she bent down, opening it. She had worked a long time on this, ensuring it would be the right level of Dothraki to appease her people, but still holding the Westerosi style she loved. She grabbed the dark blue fabric with delicate fingers before pulling it out, the long gown slowly unfolding itself.
It held a slit down the side, wide enough to spot the riding trousers she would wear beneath it, with a laced dragon scale corset sitting across the waist; gold belts very similar to her husband's would sit on her hips. She shrugged free from the pieces of leather, pulling her new dress on before securing the trimming on her. Rhaenar grabbed a large leather choker, securing it around her throat before adding further gold chains to line her body, her back straightening.
As she turned, she spotted Drogo's open jaw, Rhaenar sending a wink. "Later." They took one another's hand, leaving back through the tent entrance before gazing over the crowd. Men were lining the areas around them, some dressed in the new fashion, others remaining with their old gear.
They looked respectfully to their Khal, their eyes then drifting to their Khaleesi who remained by his side as they moved their way through the centre of camp. The sun had long since set, and the night was underway as they stopped in front of the Khalasar, drawing their attention. "By dawn, I expect to be at Qarth." Drogo began, looking over them all. "From Qarth, we will wait, bargaining with the men that reside, before gaining their trust and overtaking their city. From this it should then give us enough time to gather funds, ships, and resources to continue our journey west." The men of the Khalasar nodded. "Within three days time, I expect you to join us. We'll ride out soon, wear your new armour."