A Game of Thrones Chapter Eleven

DaenerysDaenerys Targaryen wed Khal Drogo with solicitude and barbaric splendor in a field beyond the w al mavens of Pentos, for the Dothraki believed that wholly in all things of importance in a humans life must be through with(p) beneath the open sky.Drogo had called his khalasar to attend him and they had come, forty thousand Dothraki warriors and uncounted poetry of women, pip-squeakren, and slaves. Outside the city walls they camped with their vast herds, rai fumbleg palaces of woven grass, eating everything in sight, and making the good folk of Pentos more than anxious with every casual day.My fellow magisters have doubled the size of the city guard, Illyrio told them over platters of edulcorate duck and orange snap peppers one night at the antechamber that had been Drogos. The khal had joined his khalasar, his estate prone over to Daenerys and her brother until the marriage.Best we lodge Princess Daenerys wedded quickly before they muckle half the wealth of Pent os external to sells lyric and bravos, Ser Jorah Mormont jested. The exile had offered her brother his sword the night Dany had been sold to Kbal Drogo Viserys had accepted eagerly. Mormont had been their perpetual companion ever since.Magister Illyrio laughed feeblely through his forked beard, nonwithstanding Viserys did non so frequently as smile. He can have her tomorrow, if he alikes, her brother express. He glanced over at Dany, and she lowered her eye. So persistent as he pays the price.Illyrio waved a languid hand in the air, ring glittering on his fat fingers. I have told you, all is settled. swear me. The khal has promised you a crown, and you shall have it.Yes, simply when?When the khal chooses, Illyrio express. He will have the missy offset, and after they are wed he must make his onward motion across the plains and present her to the dosh khaleen at Vaes Dothrak. afterwards that, perhaps. If the omens favor war.Viserys learnthed with impatience. I water system on Dothraki omens. The Usurper sits on my fathers throne. How keen-sighted must I custody?Illyrio gave a massive shrug. You have waited most of your life, vast king. What is a nonher hardly a(prenominal) months, another few years?Ser Jorah, who had traveled as cold due east as Vaes Dothrak, nodded in agreement. I counsel you to be patient, Your Grace. The Dothraki are true to their word, tho they do things in their own cartridge holder. A lesser man may beg a favor from the khal, but must never presume to berate him.Viserys bristled. Guard your tongue, Mormont, or Ill have it knocked out(p). I am no lesser man, I am the rightful Lord of the 7 Kingdoms. The genus Draco does not beg.Ser Jorah lowered his eyes respectfully. Illyrio smiled enigmatically and tore a wing from the duck. Honey and grease ran over his fingers and dripped pig into his beard as he nibbled at the tender meat. There are no more dragons, Dany aspect, staring at her brother, though she did no t dare say it aloud. provided that night she dreamt of one. Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy with fear. She ran from him, but her body seemed heavyset and ungainly. He struck her again. She stumbled and fell. You woke the dragon, he screamed as he kicked her. You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon. Her thighs were slick with blood. She shut her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, thither was a hideous rending sound and the crackling of some great fire. When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns of flame flush all s mildly, and in the midst of them was the dragon. It off its great head slowly. When its melt down eyes set up hers, she woke, shaking and cover with a fine shine of sweat. She had never been so afraid . . .. . . until the day of her wedding came at cash in ones chips.The notice began at dawn and continued until dusk, an endless day of drinking and junket and fighting. A powerfulnessy ear wherefore ramp had been raised a mid the grass palaces, and on that point Dany was place beside Khal Drogo, above the seething sea of Dothraki. She had never seen so many a(prenominal) people in one place, nor people so strange and frightening. The horselords might hurtle on rich fabrics and newly perfumes when they visited the Free Cities, but out under the open sky they kept the old rooms. Men and women similarly wore painted leather vests over bare chests and horse pilus leggings cinched by dye laurel wreath belts, and the warriors greased their long braids with fat from the rendering pits. They gorged themselves on horseflesh roasted with honey and peppers, drank themselves blind on fermented mares milk and Illyrios fine wines, and spat jests at to for each one one other across the fires, their voices harsh and foreigner in Danys ears.Viserys was put just below her, splendid in a new morose wool tunic with a ruddy dragon on the chest. Illyrio and Ser Jorah sit down beside him. Theirs was a place of high honor, just below the khals own blood movementrs, but Dany could see the anger in her brothers lilac eyes. He did not like sitting beneath her, and he fumed when the slaves offered each dish setoff to the khal and his bride, and served him from the portions they refused. He could do zip fastener but moderate his resentment, so nurse it he did, his mood increase blacker by the hour at each insult to his person.Dany had never felt so alone as she did seated in the midst of that vast horde. Her brother had told her to smile, and so she smiled until her face ached and the bust came unbidden to her eyes. She did her best to hide them, knowing how angry Viserys would be if he proverb her crying, terrified of how Khal Drogo might react. Food was brought to her, steaming joints of meat and dull black sausages and Dothraki blood pies, and later fruits and sweetgrass stews and gentle pastries from the kitchens of Pentos, but she waved it all away. Her subscribe was a roil, a nd she knew she could keep none of it down.There was no one to babble to. Khal Drogo shouted commands and jests down to his bloodriders, and laughed at their replies, but he scarcely glanced at Dany beside him. They had no common language. Dothraki was incomprehensible to her, and the khal knew unaccompanied a few haggle of the bastard Valyrian of the Free Cities, and none at all of the Common language of the Seven Kingdoms. She would even have welcomed the conversition of Illyrio and her brother, but they were too far below to hear her.So she sat in her wedding silks, nursing a cup of honeyed wine, afraid to eat, talking silently to herself. I am blood of the dragon, she told herself. I am Daenerys Stormborn, Princess of Dragonstone, of the blood and seed of Aegon the Conqueror.The sunbathe was however a quarter of the way up the sky when she saw her head start man die. Drums were beating as some of the women danced for the khal. Drogo watched without expression, but his ey es followed their movements, and from season to time he would toss down a dye medallion for the women to fight over.The warriors were watching too. One of them finally stepped into the circle, grabbed a terpsichorean by the arm, pushed her down to the ground, and jump oned her right in that location, as a stallion mounts a mare. Illyrio had told her that might march on. The Dothraki mate like the animals in their herds. There is no privacy in a khalasar, and they do not understand sin or shame as we do.Dany looked away from the coupling, frightened when she realized what was happening, but a second warrior stepped forward, and a third, and soon there was no way to avert her eyes. Then two men seized the same muliebrity. She heard a shout, saw a shove, and in the blink of an eye the arakhs were out, long razor-sharp blades, half sword and half scythe. A dance of death began as the warriors circled and slashed, leaping toward each other, whirling the blades nearly their heads , shrieking insults at each clash. No one do a move to interfere.It ended as quickly as it began. The arakhs shivered together faster than Dany could follow, one man bewildered a step, the other swung his blade in a flat arc. brace bit into flesh just above the Dothrakis waist, and opened him from puntbone to breadbasket button, spilling his entrails into the dust. As the loser died, the winner took allow of the nearest womannot even the one they had been quarreling overand had her there and then. Slaves carried off the body, and the leaping resumed.Magister Illyrio had warned Dany nearly this too. A Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is deemed a dull affair, he had said. Her wedding must have been especially rejoiced before the day was over, a dozen men had died.As the hours passed, the misgiving grew in Dany, until it was all she could do not to scream. She was afraid of the Dothraki, whose ways seemed alien and monstrous, as if they were beasts in human skin s and not true men at all. She was afraid of her brother, of what he might do if she failed him. Most of all, she was afraid of what would happen tonight under the stars, when her brother gave her up to the hulking giant who sat drinking beside her with a face as still and cruel as a bronze mask.I am the blood of the dragon, she told herself again.When at run the sun was low in the sky, Khal Drogo clapped his manpower together, and the drums and the shouting and feasting came to a sudden halt. Drogo stood and pulled Dany to her feet beside him. It was time for her bride gifts.And after the gifts, she knew, after the sun had gone down, it would be time for the first ride and the consummation of her marriage. Dany tried to put the thought aside, but it would not leave her. She hugged herself to try to keep from shaking.Her brother Viserys expert her with three handmaids. Dany knew they had cost him nothing Illyrio no doubt had provided the girls. Irri and Jhiqui were copper-skinned Dothraki with black hair and almond-shaped eyes, Doreah a fair-haired, blue-eyed Lysene girl. These are no common servants, sweet sister, her brother told her as they were brought forward one by one. Illyrio and I selected them in person for you. Irri will teach you riding, Jhiqui the Dothraki tongue, and Doreah will instruct you in the womanly liberal arts of love. He smiled thinly. Shes very good, Illyrio and I can both swear to that.Ser Jorah Mormont apologized for his gift. It is a small thing, my princess, but all a poor exile could afford, he said as he laid a small bus of old books before her. They were histories and songs of the Seven Kingdoms, she saw, written in the Common Tongue. She thanked him with all her heart.Magister Illyrio murmured a command, and four burly slaves hurried forward, bearing between them a great cedar chest bound in bronze. When she opened it, she found piles of the finest velvets and damasks the Free Cities could produce . . . and resting on top, nestled in the velvety cloth, three huge eggs. Dany gasped. They were the most beautiful things she had ever seen, each antithetical than the others, patterned in such rich colors that at first she thought they were crusted with jewels, and so large it took both of her hands to hold one. She move it delicately, expecting that it would be made of some fine porcelain or delicate enamel, or even blown glass, but it was much heavier than that, as if it were all of solid stone. The surface of the shell was cover with tiny scales, and as she turned the egg between her fingers, they shimmered like polished metal in the light of the setting sun. One egg was a deep green, with burnished bronze flecks that came and went depending on how Dany turned it. Another was pale cream streaked with gold. The out extreme was black, as black as a midnight sea, yet alive with scarlet ripples and swirls. What are they? she asked, her voice hushed and full of wonder.Dragons eggs, from the Shadow Lands b eyond Asshai, said Magister Illyrio. The eons have turned them to stone, yet still they burn bright with beauty.I shall treasure them always. Dany had heard tales of such eggs, but she had never seen one, nor thought to see one. It was a truly magnificent gift, though she knew that Illyrio could afford to be lavish. He had collected a fortune in horses and slaves for his part in interchange her to Khal Drogo.The khals bloodriders offered her the traditional three weapons, and splendid weapons they were. Haggo gave her a great leather reprimand with a coin handle, Cohollo a magnificent arakh chased in gold, and Qotho a double-curved dragonbone bow taller than she was. Magister Illyrio and Ser Jorah had taught her the traditional refusals for these offerings. This is a gift worthy of a great warrior, O blood of my blood, and I am but a woman. allow my lord husband bear these in my stead. And so Khal Drogo too certain his bride gifts.Other gifts she was given in plenty by other Do thraki slippers and jewels and silvern rings for her hair, medallion belts and painted vests and soft furs, sandsilks and jars of scent, needles and feathers and tiny bottles of purple glass, and a gown made from the skin of a thousand mice. A handsome gift, Khaleesi, Magister Illyrio said of the last, after he had told her what it was. Most lucky. The gifts mounted up around her in great piles, more gifts than she could possibly imagine, more gifts than she could want or use.And last of all, Khal Drogo brought forth his own bride gift to her. An expectant hush frilly out from the center of the camp as he left her side, growing until it had swallowed the whole khalasar. When he returned, the dense press of Dothraki gift-givers parted before him, and he led the horse to her.She was a young filly, spirited and splendid. Dany knew just abundant about horses to know that this was no ordinary animal. There was something about her that took the wind away. She was grey as the winter sea, with a mane like silver smoke.Hesitantly she reached out and stroked the horses neck, ran her fingers through the silver of her mane. Khal Drogo said something in Dothraki and Magister Illyrio translated. money for the silver of your hair, the khal says.Shes beautiful, Dany murmured.She is the pride of the khalasar, Illyrio said. Custom decrees that the khaleesi must ride a mount worthy of her place by the side of the khal.Drogo stepped forward and put his hands on her waist. He lifted her up as easily as if she were a child and set her on the thin Dothraki saddle, so much smaller than the ones she was used to. Dany sat there uncertain for a moment. No one had told her about this part. What should I do? she asked Illyrio.It was Ser Jorah Mormont who answered. Take the reins and ride. You need not go far.Nervously Dany gathered the reins in her hands and slid her feet into the short stirrups. She was only a fair rider she had spent far more time traveling by ship and wagon and palanquin than by horseback. Praying that she would not fall off and disgrace herself, she gave the filly the lightest and most timid touch with her knees.And for the first time in hours, she forgot to be afraid. Or perhaps it was for the first time ever.The silver-grey filly moved with a smooth and silken gait, and the crowd parted for her, every eye upon them. Dany found herself moving faster than she had intended, yet somehow it was kindle rather than terrifying. The horse broke into a trot, and she smiled. Dothraki scrambled to clear a path. The slightest pressure with her legs, the lightest touch on the reins, and the filly responded. She sent it into a gallop, and now the Dothraki were hooting and express feelings and shouting at her as they jumped out of her way. As she turned to ride back, a firepit loomed ahead, directly in her path. They were hemmed in on either side, with no room to stop. A daring she had never known filled Daenerys then, and she gave the filly her hea d.The silver horse leapt the flames as if she had wings.When she pulled up before Magister Illyrio, she said, Tell Khal Drogo that he has given me the wind. The fat Pentoshi stroked his yellow beard as he repeated her words in Dothraki, and Dany saw her new husband smile for the first time.The last sliver of sun vanished tail end the high walls of Pentos to the west just then. Dany had mixed-up all track of time. Khal Drogo commanded his bloodriders to bring forth his own horse, a skimpy red stallion. As the khal was saddling the horse, Viserys slid close to Dany on her silver, dug his fingers into her leg, and said, Please him, sweet sister, or I swear, you will see the dragon wake as it has never woken before.The fear came back to her then, with her brothers words. She felt like a child once more, only thirteen and all alone, not ready for what was about to happen to her.They rode out together as the stars came out, leaving the khalasar and the grass palaces behind. Khal Drogo intercommunicate no word to her, but drove his stallion at a hard trot through the gathering dusk. The tiny silver bells in his long braid rang softly as he rode. I am the blood of the dragon, she whispered aloud as she followed, trying to keep her courageousness up. I am the blood of the dragon. I am the blood of the dragon. The dragon was never afraid.Afterward she could not say how far or how long they had ridden, but it was full dark when they stop at a grasslike place beside a small stream. Drogo swung off his horse and lifted her down from hers. She felt as fragile as glass in his hands, her limbs as weak as water. She stood there helpless and trembling in her wedding silks while he secured the horses, and when he turned to look at her, she began to cry.Khal Drogo stared at her tears, his face strangely empty of expression. No, he said. He lifted his hand and rubbed away the tears roughly with a callused thumb.You speak the Common Tongue, Dany said in wonder.No, he said aga in.Perhaps he had only that word, she thought, but it was one word more than she had known he had, and somehow it made her feel a little better. Drogo touched her hair lightly, sliding the silver-blond strands between his fingers and murmuring softly in Dothraki. Dany did not understand the words, yet there was warmth in the tone, a tenderness she had never expected from this man.He put his finger under her chin and lifted her head, so she was spirit up into his eyes. Drogo towered over her as he towered over everyone. Taking her lightly under the arms, he lifted her and seated her on a locomote rock beside the stream. Then he sat on the ground face up her, legs crossed beneath him, their faces finally at a height. No, he said.Is that the only word you know? she asked him.Drogo did not reply. His long heavy braid was gyrate in the dirt beside him. He pulled it over his right shoulder and began to take out the bells from his hair, one by one. After a moment Dany leaned forward to help. When they were done, Drogo gestured. She understood. Slowly, carefully, she began to unbrace his braid.It took a long time. All the while he sat there silently, watching her. When she was done, he shook his head, and his hair spread out behind him like a river of darkness, oiled and gleaming. She had never seen hair so long, so black, so thick.Then it was his turn. He began to undress her.His fingers were deft and strangely tender. He removed her silks one by one, carefully, while Dany sat unmoving, silent, looking at his eyes. When he bared her small breasts, she could not help herself. She averted her eyes and covered herself with her hands. No, Drogo said. He pulled her hands away from her breasts, gently but firmly, then lifted her face again to make her look at him. No, he repeated.No, she echoed back at him.He stood her up then and pulled her close to remove the last of her silks. The night air was chilly on her bare skin. She shivered, and gooseflesh covered her arms and legs. She was afraid of what would come next, but for a while nothing happened. Khal Drogo sat with his legs crossed, looking at her, drinking in her body with his eyes.After a while he began to touch her. Lightly at first, then harder. She could sense the fierce strength in his hands, but he never hurt her. He held her hand in his own and brushed her fingers, one by one. He ran a hand gently down her leg. He stroked her face, tracing the curve of her ears, running a finger gently around her mouth. He put both hands in her hair and straighten out it with his fingers. He turned her around, massaged her shoulders, slid a knuckle down the path of her spine.It seemed as if hours passed before his hands finally went to her breasts. He stroked the soft skin underneath until it tingled. He circled her nipples with his thumbs, pinched them between thumb and forefinger, then began to pull at her, very lightly at first, then more insistently, until her nipples stiffened and began to ache .He stopped then, and drew her down onto his lap. Dany was flushed and breathless, her heart fluttering in her chest. He cupped her face in his huge hands and looked into his eyes. No? he said, and she knew it was a question.She took his hand and moved it down to the wetness between her thighs. Yes, she whispered as she put his finger inside her.