Sweet Sister

Chapter 32

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Travelling in the middle of desert climate was as horrid as the last time Rhae had done this with the Dothraki. The soreness from riding all day wasn't nearly as bad as she remembered when she was 12, but she could travel however she liked now, for as long as she wanted.

Annabel proved to be a great riding companion; she was more worried about Rhae losing another chance to see Daenerys.

Rhae found it strange that not once had she spotted Drogo, Doreah or the rest of the khalasar, aside from the few Dothraki bloodriders she'd seen. And none were Rakharo. She would've thought for a moment this big, she'd have her husband at her side.

The excitement of meeting her nephew suddenly fuelled the tiredness she was feeling. He would be four or five now.

"How far are we riding?" Annabel asked. She and Rhae had been riding the ridge that overlooks the main road —that runs in-and-out of Astapor— for a bit over a mile now.

Rhae pulled back on the reins to her dappled-grey stallion, "Here will do. By the time Daenerys reaches us, she and the Unsullied should be out of Astapor."

Annabel stopped beside her. "How long?"

"Hour. Two maybe," Rhae dismounts, "until either of us see my sister on the main road, we should let our horses rest. Who knows when the next watering hole will be. Best not push them." Agreeing, Annabel dismounts.

An hour rolled by and still, no Daenerys or Unsullied are in sight. "Can I ask you something?" Annabel pipped curiously. Rhae gave her a funny look, but still, nonetheless nodded. "When we sailed across the sea, did you and the Captain ever . . ."

"No," Rhae answered quick, almost too quickly for it to be believable. "We did not," her brows scrunch, "what gives you that impression?"

"You seem different. I've never seen you this quiet, is all," Annabel answered.

Rhae waved off Annabel's suspicions, chuckling quietly, "I am tired. I haven't slept much in the past two nights." In deep thought, her gaze had fallen down to her boots. All she could think about was the conversation she and Asheli had on the forecastle deck, less than a day ago.

"It's okay to miss her."

Rhae scoffs, her gaze moving back up, "I do not miss her."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Rhae met Annabel's orbs, "me or yourself?"

Both of their horse's ears are pricked forward, their heads lifted up in alert. Rhae turns around and finds the source. Sure enough it's her sister and the many Unsullied that follow.

Daenerys dismounts. Rhae frowned; she hadn't traded out the white stallion from Astapor to her Silver. Ser Jorah, Missandei and the older Westerosi man dismounted, too. Within seconds, the Unsullied and what little Dothraki are travelling are unpacking their things.

Rhae settled to the ground, her grey stallion's reins in hand, "You had better get comfortable. We're going to be here awhile .  .  ."

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Dark settled fast, and Daenerys' camp having been set up even faster. Tents they've taken from Astapor line the side of the road of both sides, torches burning both inside and out of each tent.