There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
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"We should head somewhere that's loyal." Rhaenar spoke, her eyes glancing over the Essos map as they stood in the Kos tent, various weapons and scrolls of interest lining the shelves. Rhaenar stood with Drogo and Jorah on one side, Daenerys, Rakharo, and Jhoqo to her side, and Qotho, Cohollo, and Haggo to Drogo's. There were various other ranks of Dothraki stood around her, faces of Kos both familiar and unfamiliar. This was a new wave for the Khalasar, seeing their Khaleesi in war meetings, commanding attention and respect. "Somewhere that will not laugh in the face of a Targaryen."
Drogo looked to her, the words on the map useless as he tried to navigate it. He knew what it was, what it symbolised, but the Dothraki had no written language, he couldn't make heads nor tails of it. "You and Khal Drogo have a 40,000 strong Khalasar, Khaleesi; they are unlikely to laugh in your face if you turn up at the gates."
"Jorah the Andal is right." Drogo began, his brows furrowing. "No matter where the Khalasar goes, people will be welcoming." She nodded. "We could try a city with flying horses, then head to Westeros."
Jorah shook his head. "No. The armies of Westeros will be too large against the Khalasar; you should expand, increase your power first so the people of Westeros can see your power." Jorah was right, Rhaenar thought, her eyes flickering from place to place on the map. They needed an army, but without gold they couldn't buy one.
"We don't have gold for an army. We need to start small, work our way up. The more we can gain from ransacking and convincing, the better chances we have." Rhaenar muttered, not quite sure on the ransacking part. If she wanted a better rule, she couldn't use methods like this but there was no way she could just pluck gold from thin air. Not unless... "What if we established trade of the horses; just this moon turning, forty have been born." She asked, looking to Drogo who looked to his bloodriders.
They seemed shifty. "The Dothraki are in abundance of horses, and horsemeat. If we established trades with the free cities perhaps who are asking for horses, then perhaps this would be better than pillaging, and reeving, and raping."
Qotho spoke. "Dothraki horses are hard to tame Khaleesi; average men could not ride them as well."
"But it gives us an option, a fast solution to gold."
