Khal Drogo lay motionless upon the grass.
The wind stirred the long braid that had never been cut.
For a heartbeat...
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Then the first roar shattered the silence.
"DROGO!"
One of the bloodriders surged forward, arakh already drawn.
The other three followed instantly.
There would be no honoring the outcome of the duel.
Their khal was dead.
Only vengeance remained.
Celebrimbor's voice was calm.
"Bloodriders."
"Each has likely fought beside him for years."
"Do not underestimate them."
"I won't."
The first bloodrider reached me with astonishing speed.
His arakh swept toward my head.
I barely caught it.
The impact sent a jolt through my arms.
Before I could recover...
The second attacked from my right.
Steel flashed.
I twisted away just in time.
The blade tore through my cloak instead of my ribs.
"They're trying to surround me."
"Then don't let them."
I stepped backward, forcing all four men to remain in front of me.
Exactly as Damon had taught me.
"Never fight on all sides if you can help it."
Nymeria exploded into motion.
Nymeria's jaws closed around the 3rd bloodriders throat.
One violent shake.
The screaming stopped.
Gasps rippled through the khalasar.
The remaining three came together.
Better disciplined than common soldiers.
One attacked high.
Another low.
The third waited for an opening.
Celebrimbor spoke rapidly.
"The left."
I turned just in time to parry.
"Now forward."
Instead of retreating...
I rushed between them.
The waiting bloodrider hadn't expected it.
My shoulder struck his chest.
He stumbled.
I slashed across his stomach.
He dropped to one knee, clutching the wound.
The second bloodrider roared and swung wildly.
His anger made him careless.
I stepped inside his reach.
Joffrey's sword pierced beneath his arm.
He collapsed without another sound.
Only two remained.
One wounded.
One fresh.
The healthy warrior circled carefully.
Unlike the others...
He wasn't blinded by rage.
Celebrimbor noticed.
"This one thinks."
"I can see that."
He spoke rapidly in Dothraki.
The wounded bloodrider answered.
Then both attacked together.
Steel rang again and again.
I managed to wound one.
The other nearly opened my shoulder.
They were forcing me backward.
Step by step.
Closer to Drogo's body.
Closer to exhaustion.
I could already feel my arms slowing.
Celebrimbor remained calm.
"You cannot hold this forever."
"I know."
My arms had begun to feel heavy.
Celebrimbor remained calm.
"You cannot keep this pace forever."
"I know."
The wounded bloodrider feinted low.
The second came high.
I managed to stop the first.
The second—
Steel crashed against steel.
Not mine.
The fresh bloodrider's arakh was thrown wide by the sudden impact of a longsword.
A mailed knight had stepped between us without a word.
Ser Jorah.
He didn't look at me.
He didn't speak.
He simply fought.
The bloodrider recovered quickly, slashing again.
Jorah met him head-on.
Unlike an arakh, his Westerosi longsword was made for binding another blade.
He caught the curved weapon, twisted, and forced it aside before driving his shoulder into the Dothraki warrior.
The rider stumbled.
Jorah's sword flashed once.
The bloodrider collapsed, his throat opened from ear to ear.
The last bloodrider roared in fury.
He abandoned me entirely and charged Jorah.
A mistake.
Celebrimbor's voice was steady.
"Finish it."
The warrior's back was exposed.
I closed the distance in three strides.
The bloodrider sensed me too late.
He turned—
Joffrey's sword pierced cleanly through his chest.
The point emerged beneath his ribs.
His arakh slipped from numb fingers.
For a moment...
He simply stood there.
Then his knees buckled.
I pulled the blade free.
He fell beside his Khal.
Silence returned.
Five bodies lay before the great tent.
Khal Drogo.
His four bloodriders.
The grass beneath them had turned red.
Jorah wiped his blade clean on a fallen rider's vest before finally looking at me.
He gave a single, almost imperceptible nod.
Nothing more.
No introductions.
No questions.
Only the acknowledgment of one warrior to another.
Then both of us turned toward the thousands of silent Dothraki surrounding us.
Not a single rider had yet moved.
The fate of the Great Khalasar would be decided...
In the next few moments.
Silence.
The only sounds were the wind across the grass...
...and the restless stamping of thousands of horses.
Khal Drogo lay dead.
His four bloodriders beside him.
No man questioned how they had died.
The bloodriders had done exactly what custom demanded.
Their khal had fallen.
It had been their sacred duty to avenge him.
They had failed.
No shame rested upon them.
Only death.
An elder Dothraki stepped forward.
He looked from me...
...to the countless riders surrounding us.
Then he spoke loudly in Dothraki.
I glanced toward Celebrimbor.
The Elf listened in silence before turning to me.
"He asks if you will claim the khalasar."
No one reacted.
To everyone else...
I was simply standing there, thinking.
Forty thousand pairs of eyes settled upon me.
Waiting.
Expecting.
I looked across the endless sea of horses.
Thousands of warriors.
Thousands of families.
An entire people.
No.
They deserved a Khal who understood them.
Not a foreign knight from Westeros.
I slowly shook my head.
"I do not claim the khalasar."
The old man frowned.
A younger rider quickly translated my words into Dothraki.
A murmur spread through the camp.
The captain asked another question.
Again, I looked toward empty air.
To everyone else...
It appeared I was merely considering my answer.
Celebrimbor spoke quietly.
"He asks why you refuse."
"Because I didn't cross the Narrow Sea seeking an army."
Another rider translated.
This time the murmurs became louder.
Some Dothraki looked toward Viserys.
Others looked back at me.
I turned toward the silver-haired prince.
"The khalasar was promised to Viserys Targaryen."
"He crossed the Narrow Sea for an army."
"I crossed it for another reason."
The translator repeated my words in Dothraki.
The old man studied Viserys for several long moments.
Then he spoke once more.
Celebrimbor listened.
"He says you surrender a great prize."
"I have no use for it."
I walked toward Viserys.
Stopping only a few feet away.
"You wanted an army."
"You have one."
Viserys stared at me in disbelief.
"You mean..."
I nodded.
"I release every claim I won over the khalasar."
"It is yours."
For several heartbeats...
Viserys simply stood there.
Then a broad smile spread across his face.
He threw back his head and laughed.
"I knew it!"
"I am the Blood of the Dragon!"
"The Iron Throne will be mine!"
He spread his arms toward the assembled Dothraki.
"My army awaits!"
The khalasar remained silent.
No cheers.
No kneeling.
Only thousands of unreadable faces studying the strange prince who believed he already commanded them.
I glanced toward Celebrimbor.
The Elf's expression remained thoughtful.
"You may give him your claim."
"You cannot give him their respect."
I resisted the urge to answer aloud.
Instead, I gave the faintest nod.
That...
Was a lesson Viserys would soon learn for himself.
The elderly man spoke again.
His weathered hand gestured toward Drogo's great tent.
Then toward me.
I looked to Celebrimbor.
"He asks whether you claim nothing else."
"I do."
The old captain waited.
"So long as it was Drogo's to lose..."
"It is mine to claim."
A younger rider translated.
The captain nodded once.
Waiting.
I pointed toward the entrance of the great tent.
Three servants carefully carried embroidered cushions forward.
Resting upon them...
Were the three petrified dragon eggs.
Black and scarlet.
Green streaked with bronze.
Cream and gold.
Even beneath the afternoon sun...
They seemed almost alive.
A murmur swept through the khalasar.
The eggs had been Khal Drogo's greatest wedding gift.
I walked toward them slowly.
The servants stepped back without protest.
I rested a hand upon the black egg.
Its stone surface felt warm.
Warmer than the air around it.
For just a heartbeat...
I thought I felt something beneath the shell.
Then it was gone.
I lifted my gaze.
"I claim the dragon eggs."
The words were translated.
The old captain gave a single nod.
No objection came.
The eggs had belonged to Drogo.
They were mine by right.
Only one claim remained.
I turned.
Daenerys still stood where she had watched the duel.
Her violet eyes never left mine.
The old captain followed my gaze.
Understanding slowly dawned on his face.
He spoke quietly.
Celebrimbor listened.
"He asks if you also claim the Khaleesi."
"I do."
The translation spread through the gathered Dothraki.
None protested.
That had been the challenge.
Drogo had accepted it before forty thousand witnesses.
I walked toward Daenerys.
She didn't move.
Her hands trembled ever so slightly.
When I stopped before her...
She lowered her eyes.
Waiting.
Expecting another command.
Another master.
Instead...
I knelt.
The movement startled everyone.
Including Daenerys.
I looked up at her.
"By the terms of the challenge..."
"I have claimed you."
A flicker of sadness crossed her face.
I continued before she could speak.
"But I will not own you."
Slowly...
I rose to my feet.
"My first act is to release you from every obligation that victory has given me."
Her eyes widened.
"You are free."
"You may remain with your brother."
"You may travel with me."
"You may go wherever you wish."
"I will not decide your future."
"You will."
Silence.
Not only from Daenerys.
From the entire khalasar.
No one understood why a man would surrender such a prize.
Viserys looked between us in complete confusion.
"You..."
He frowned.
"What are you doing?"
I ignored him.
My eyes remained on Daenerys.
"For the first time in your life..."
"You choose."
A tear escaped down her cheek.
No one had ever offered her that before.
Not her father.
Not Viserys.
Not Illyrio.
Not Khal Drogo.
She took a slow breath.
Then...
She stepped forward.
Until she stood beside me.
"I choose..."
She glanced once toward her brother.
Then back at me.
"...to go with you."
Viserys' smile vanished.
"No."
He took a step forward.
"No, you don't."
"You belong with me."
Daenerys met his gaze.
For the first time...
There was no fear in her eyes.
"No."
"I don't."
The words struck Viserys harder than any blade.
He opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
He had lost.
Not because I had taken his sister.
But because...
She had chosen to leave him.
I bent down, lifting the three dragon eggs one by one before handing them to servants to secure among my belongings.
Then I looked east.
There was still one destination waiting for us.
The ruins of Old Valyria.