I ordered my Khalasar to break camp the morning after my wedding. I was very eager to reach Vaes Dothrak and show off my beautiful and exotic new wife. She was, as promised, the perfect woman for me, and I was extremely proud that she was mine. I wanted everyone to know that the most beautiful woman in the world was my wife. And why shouldn’t she be? The greatest Khal to ever live deserved the most beautiful wife and Khaleesi.
We rode for many days. I spent my days amongst my people, hoping Daenerys would approach me. It frustrated me greatly that she never did. My days were spent thinking how badly I wanted to talk to her. Several times I almost approached her myself, but then thought of the damned language barrier that divided us. ‘Damn that language barrier,’ I would think. I wanted so much to speak to her, get to know her better… but she was still learning the Dothraki tongue, and my few words of the Common Tongue were not enough to carry on a conversation. So I would ignore her all day, despite my desire to speak with her. At nights, we’d make camp, and I’d go racing horses and drinking with my blood riders to try and forget the horrible frustrations I felt at not being able to speak with her. These distractions helped, but very little, as she was always on my mind.
It was only then, after I had had my fill of drinks, I would go to her. I would go to her every night, no matter what time. The very thought of her would arouse me before I even entered the tent. Seeing her sleeping, looking so innocent, only aroused me more. I did notice that her thighs were raw from riding. I did see the saddle sores on her bottom. Yet my desire for her overcame all that. She was mine, and it was my right to have her. I had to have her. To deny myself of my need to have her would be like denying myself my very breath. So I took her every night and rode her. I would take her from behind, as was Dothraki fashion but also because I couldn’t bear to see her cry. She tried to hide that she was crying, she took it bravely, yet she did cry, every night. I always went right to sleep after, contentedly, and she would lie next to me, which was comforting in a way.
Every morning when I woke, I would regret that I had hurt her, and leave the tent without a word. What could I say, anyway? There was so much I longed to say to her, yet we did not speak the same language. So I continued to ignore her, and my frustration grew every day. This went on for a long while. I would ignore her during the days, ride her at night, and feel bad in the mornings.
One morning, everything changed. Daenerys seemed to have awoken very different. The change happened overnight, and it was a very noticeable change. She seemed to enjoy riding her horse more than she had before, and she became more proficient at it, as well. After noticing this, I ordered Irri to teach her to ride the Dothraki way. Daenerys learned quickly. Her saddle sores vanished, and soon her thighs were no longer raw. She began to ride next to me at the front of the column, and this pleased me greatly. What pleased me even more was that she started to enjoy our nights together. Slowly, her cries of pain changed to cries of pleasure. Soon, the cries of pain were all but gone, and she would lie closer to me as I slept. She no longer seemed to dread our nights together as she once had.
She had changed so drastically that one day she ordered the entire Khalasar to stop. I don’t know what pleased me more, the fact that she was beginning to act like a true Khaleesi, or the fact that it seemed to anger her brother to no end. I learned from Jhogo; who had to teach Viserys a lesson; that she had taken Viserys’ horse and made him walk back. This filled me with pride as never before. She knew what a man with no horse meant to the Dothraki. This incident earned him a nickname; Khal Rhae Mhar, or “the Sore-foot King” in the Common Tongue, and this amused me to no end. They all mocked him. The boy was weak. How he intended to conquer anything was beyond me. I wished he had stayed in Pentos, wished he had taken Illyrio up on his offer to stay with him. This day, when he was being mocked by the entire Khalasar, perhaps he wished the same.
When we stopped to make camp, the slaves erected the tents near a spring-fed pool. As the tents were being set up, Ser Jorah approached me and informed me it was my wife’s fourteenth name day. I wondered to myself if this explained the sudden change within her, but kept the thought to myself.
That night, I went to her earlier than usual, and sober. Her change in behavior intrigued me, and I wanted to see how far it extended. Another surprise awaited me; she was expecting me. Even with all the day had brought, this was the greatest surprise of all. Standing in the doorway of the tent, I looked at her in awe. She had never been waiting for me before. I was already naked, and she slowly rose. She removed her sleeping silks, letting them fall to the ground, and as I drank in the sight of her naked body, she approached me. She took my hand and led me back outside. She spoke the Common Tongue, yet I understood her words.
“This night we must go outside, my lord.”
I followed without saying a word, letting her lead me where she wanted. She led me to a bed of soft grass and drew me down. Instantly aroused at her boldness, I tried to turn her over and mount her, but she stopped me.
Annoyed yet still aroused, I tried again to turn her over to mount her, she was mine after all. Again, she resisted and stopped me.
What happened next stunned me into silence for a moment. Her eyes met mine, and she opened her mouth to speak. For the first time, she spoke Dothraki.
“Tonight I will look upon your face.”
I stayed stunned by her words, let her lay me back, and watched as she mounted me. She never took her eyes off mine. The look she gave me was very intense as she rode me like a stallion. When at last my release came, I for the first time said her name.