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THE DOTHRAKI HORDEHAD BEEN RIDING FOR NEARLY A FULL DAY, AND WOULD NOT REST UNTIL THE KHAL DECIDED. Normally, Alia would have respected that and thought it perfectly reasonable, but not if Khal Drogo seemed to think sleeping was a waste of time.
After the wedding, they rode out early in the morning and had yet to stop since. Alia's head was drooping, and she could feel the heaviness in her eyelids. The only time they had stopped – since they began riding, that is – was to hunt, where Alia had only managed to catch a lean rabbit with next to no meat on its brittle bones. Needless to say, it had not been very filling, and her stomach was growling.
To eat or to sleep, she thought angrily to herself, trying to keep her eyes on the white stallion in front of her, which was barely visible in the twilit fields. If ever we do either.
Alia heard the hollow sound of hooves cantering along grass from behind her, steadily getting louder and louder. Worry welled up in her chest, until she heard the now familiar and warm voice of Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island.
His horse slowed next to her. "How are you faring, child?"
"I have been better," Alia confessed heavily. "And yourself?"
"I have been better."
A long breath was loosened from her chapped lips. "I am certain we'll rest soon enough, Ser Jorah. We have been riding for hours – even the Khal must be growing weary."
"I think you may be right." Alia could heard the smile in Ser Jorah's words. "The Khal is a great man, but all great men need rest."
It had not taken Alia long to realise she enjoyed the company of the wise knight from Bear Island. He was kind and fair and just, and always made sure to look out for Daenerys, who seemed to spend every waking moment worrying. But Alia didn't care to worry about herself; it was the ageing septon that concerned her most – he had been another gift from Illyrio, thinking it best to send the Targaryen princess away with a priest (as if that would improve her horrific marital situation).
There was a shift in fluidity up ahead, and the white horse before Alia fidgeted before coming to a stop all together. Alia squinted. They were stopping, and that suspicion was further reinforced by the Khal's dark muttering from the front of the crowd. A thud could be heard as he slid off his horse, accompanied by the odd braying and the stomping of hooves.
"Thank the gods." Alia slid off her horse and patted its flank, untying the ropes that held her sleeping equipment in place with a little more eagerness than normal. She sank to the floor, curling up against her bedding, bidding Ser Jorah good night. Her eyes snapped shut and, in an instant, it seemed she was asleep.
⚜️
Since waking up, the horde had continued their journey to Vaes Dothrak once more, and Alia was still exhausted. She sidled up beside Ser Jorah, tipping her head back to bask in the sunshine and relished in the warmth against her sunburnt cheeks.
