Playing the Game (Game of Thrones)

No… no, there was no backing out now, was there? He’d come all the way to Vaes Dothrak. Abandoning things now would only cause the Dothraki to try and hunt him down, more than likely. And even if they didn’t… how could he possibly pass up an opportunity like this? Not just to have an army at his beck and call, because truth be told, the Dothraki weren’t that much of an army.
 
Oh certainly, they were a legendary fighting force. Jon had heard tale of their riding prowess and the like… but he’d also heard plenty about their savagery, and he’d seen plenty as well. How many Dothraki Warriors had he personally had to kill on the trek from Pentos to Vaes Dothrak? At the end of the day… the Dothraki were not soldiers. They were warriors. They weren’t an army. They were a horde.
 
But a horde could be used, and if there was one thing the Dothraki seemed to understand, it was strength. More than that though, this was an opportunity to fix an inherent wrong in this part of the world. He was a stranger, an outsider from an outside land… and Jon knew that before, when he’d just arrived in Essos, he didn’t have any right to tell anyone what to do. But then everything with the Iron Bank and Bellegere had happened, and then Pentos and Drogo and Daenerys had happened…
 
Jon had power now, he had authority. He had every right to tell people what to do… and while he’d been unsure of himself before, hatching those dragons, making love to Dany among the flames of her own brother’s funeral pyre… it awakened something in him, a second awakening akin to the first that he’d had all those months ago back in Winterfell.
 
He felt more sure of himself then ever before… and if he was going to be the Stallion Who Mounts the World, if he was going to be Aegon the Conqueror come again… then there were certain things Jon would no longer abide.
 
Looking to the waiting Dosh Khaleen and their High Priestess, Jon sets his jaw.
 
“If I am to take up this mantle… if I am to be the Stallion Who Mounts the World, then the Dothraki will have to change. I will not allow slavery under my watch. The Dothraki will no longer claim people as property, as chattel. If I remain here in Vaes Dothrak for the purposes of unifying your people under my banner… then I refuse to give an inch. It is your people who will have to change. Are you sure the Dothraki can survive such a thing?”
 
There’s a long, pregnant pause at that. It’s just him, Daenerys, and the Dosh Khaleen at the moment. The priestesses of the Dothraki are looking at him with a variety of different expressions. Some of them are Dothraki, and of those, a few are looking at him askance, as if he’s asking too much of them. The others are assessing him, as if to see if he can back up his words. Some of them are not Dothraki however, and those… those look ever so slightly hopeful, for as good as they hide it.
 
But then, even if the Dosh Khaleen are made up of widowed khaleesi, a foreign khaleesi was likely bought or captured, rather than entering the khalasar of her own free will. Daenerys would have been the same, little more than a slave, a piece of meat sold by her brother to Drogo in exchange for an army. A foreign woman, destined to one day join the Dosh Khaleen, perhaps.
 
Now that she was his, he would not let that happen. She was his khaleesi, but she was also his family. Jon didn’t intend to spend the rest of his life among the Dothraki… or rather, he would bring them with him, only if they proved they could change. This idea of him conquering the world, of him taking over everything… it does speak to him, if he’s being honest. His blood sings with a desire to rule, and that melody has only grown in volume since he hatched his three dragons alongside Daenerys.
 
Speaking of Dany, she’s looking at him with pure adoration. Jon has learned well since bedding his khaleesi that Daenerys Stormborn, of the House Targaryen, is not stupid by any means. She is timid and shy and young… younger than him, even. And perhaps she is a bit ignorant of much knowledge that many took for granted. Her brother kept her sheltered, sequestered, blind to much of the world.
 
But behind that timid façade that her brother had forced her to wear in order to survive his rages, there was a bright, curious young woman. Jon had caught several glimpses of her so far, and he had to admit, every time he saw more of her true self, he fell just a bit more in love with Daenerys Targaryen. That’s all to say, Dany wasn’t dumb. Because she wasn’t dumb, she no doubt understood that slavery was back. Just as she no doubt understood that what Viserys had done to her, selling her to Drogo, was effectively a form of slavery.
 
So, in the end, it made sense that she would be on board with his declaration. Now all that was left was to see how the Dosh Khaleen would react. Jon would be their Stallion Who Mounts the World… but on HIS terms, not the Dothraki’s.
 
“… We will see what you can change, Khal Jhono. First, you must unite our people. Only then might you be able to force the Dothraki to become something new. But it will not be easy. There will be pain. Bloodshed. Suffering.”
 
Jon doesn’t back down at her harsh words, his jaw instead squaring as he frowns most severely.
 
“There already is. For however long your people’s history is, all the way up to this very moment. There is pain, bloodshed, and suffering being perpetrated by the Dothraki in this very city.”

That gets a responding frown from the High Priestess.

 
“It… it is forbidden to shed a free man’s blood within Vaes Dothrak.”
 
Even as she says the words, he can see the resignation in her eyes, Jon just smiles a cold smile and nods, both of them knowing that the crux of the problem lies in the heart of what she just said. Rather than continue to debate the matter though, Jon simply settles it with a blunt, true statement that he means with all his heart.
 
“When I am done changing the Dothraki, that will still be true. But the word ‘free’ will no longer be needed, because every man and woman in Vaes Dothrak will be free.”
 
In the end, the High Priestess bows to him, still seeming rather resigned. Jon wonders at that but listens as she speaks all the same.
 
“Very well. Riders will be sent across the Dothraki sea. The Khals will be summoned. They will come, and there will likely be war. You should be ready for battle, for many of them will not accept you. They will fight instead, and you will have to kill them.”
 
Funny, just a few months ago, Jon had actually never killed a man before. Then he’d arrived in Braavos, and in the span of one nightly battle, he’d killed an entire gang of them. Then had come the wedding in Pentos, where he’d killed Drogo and then his Bloodriders. After that, the entire way here had been one fight after another, in which Jon had had to kill quite a few Dothraki.
 
He’d gotten good at killing, not that he took pleasure in it. Though… there had been pleasure in killing both Drogo and Viserys. The pleasure had not come from taking their lives, mind… but from protecting Daenerys from the two men. Protecting HIS claim over her, at that. Nostrils flaring, Jon’s smile, which still doesn’t reach his flinty grey eyes, widens a fair bit.
 
In a way, he was laying claim to the whole of the Dothraki now too, wasn’t he? And if the High Priestess of the Dosh Khaleen was to be believed, the other Khals were unlikely to fall in line. Jon got the impression that at the very least, his lieutenants and the Dothraki Warriors that made up his own Khalasar would fight for him. He’d weeded out those who hated or despised him on the way here, defeating all challengers. It left his Khalasar perhaps a bit smaller, but nevertheless filled with those who were aware of how strong he was, of the power he wielded.
 
But these other Khals… he would kill them like he killed Drogo if he thought it necessary. He would not allow them to gainsay him, nor would he allow them to stand in his way.
 
“If that is what I must do, then I will do it and they will die. Send out your riders. Call the Khals and their Khalasars here. Let it be done, one way or another. If I am the subject of your prophecy… then I suppose it is high time I prove it, hm?”
 
The High Priestess bows, and many, though not all of the Dosh Khaleen follow her lead on that. As he looks over these widowed khaleesi, he finds that many of them are looking at him with appreciative, even lustful gazes. But… he’s not here to turn the Dothraki Priesthood into his own personal harem. As it currently stands, he already has Dany and Bellegere to boot.
 
Turning with the former at his side, Jon departs from the temple. He and Daenerys make their way back to the Khalasar, at which point Dany stops him on the edge of their camp with a hand on his arm.
 
“… There’s something I must do… will you come with me?”
 
Jon inclines his head in agreement and lets Daenerys lead the way. The beautiful young woman is quite fun to follow behind, and Jon finds himself staring at her feminine figure, specifically her swaying hips and her delectable ass, both of which are held in tight Dothraki leathers at this point. Eventually, they arrive at the tent that Jon knows as Daenerys’, at least when she’s not with him. He walks in behind her, only to blink in mild surprise at seeing three women he’s never met before waiting for them both.
 
Two are of Dothraki descent, with caramel skin and black hair and almond-shaped eyes. They’re both beautiful… but not quite striking in the same way as the third. The third feels like a mixture of Daenerys and Bellegere if he’s being honest. Daenerys’ looks, Bellegere’s skill. With fair hair and blue eyes, she was obviously from Lys. More than likely, she was from the pleasure houses of Lys in particular. The way she looks at him when she and the other two girls realize he’s with Daenerys is… distinct, to be sure. She’s hungry for him in that same way Bellegere was that night back in Braavos.
 
“Jon… these are my handmaidens. Irri, Jhiqui, and Doreah. I… they were wedding gifts, given to me shortly before you… intervened.”
 
Jon raises a brow, even as Daenerys straightens her back and squares her shoulders, looking away from him to the three women. It’s obvious she’s trying to be confident, though there’s still a slight tremor in her voice.
 
“H-However. I realize now that the three of you did not have a say in the matter. A-And that is w-wrong. So… I am offering the three of you your freedom, here and now.”
 
Irri and Jhiqui go wide eyed at this. Doreah clearly hears Daenerys, but only has eyes for him, while Jon… Jon just gives Dany a smile and a one-armed hug, proud of her.
 
“We… have nothing. Where would we go, khaleesi?”
 
It’s the one Daenerys named Irri that speaks up, looking somewhat fretful and confused, as if her entire life has just been upended on her… which to be fair, it has. Daenerys though, isn’t done.
 
“I would… I would like it if you all stayed. I would like to keep you on as my handmaiden. But I will not treat others as property. Not ever. You would be free women… and under my protection if you decided to remain.”
 
Irri and Jhiqui share looks at that, before slowly nodding. It’s obvious they don’t really understand what’s happening… but at least they seem to recognize that Dany isn’t throwing them out. Meanwhile, Doreah licks her lips and steps forward, thrusting her chest out and giving Jon a seductive smile, even as she speaks to Daenerys.
 
“And what of Khal Jhono’s needs? He is a Khal among Khals, is he not… I have heard that the Black Pearl of Braavos advises him… and takes care of him. But a man such as he would have more than one woman. Would we be expected to serve him as we serve you, khaleesi?”
 
It’s obvious what Doreah wants, and Jon can smell her arousal in the air. Daenerys doesn’t quite catch on right away though.
 
“I-I… Jon would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do! And neither would I!”
 
“Ah… but what if it’s something I want to do?”
 
Now Dany understands. Her handmaidens are all looking at Jon speculatively now, and as he looks back at them, he can smell not just Doreah’s arousal in the air, but Irri and Jhiqui’s as well… and on top of that, Dany is also beginning to grow wet. When he glances over at her, it’s to find that she’s looking down at the ground and blushing prettily, clearly fidgeting as she imagines such a thing, him with her handmaidens. It’s obvious to him that she doesn’t mind the idea one bit… in fact, does his khaleesi perhaps enjoy the thought of him with other women?
 
Jon lifts an eyebrow as Doreah, seemingly sensing the same thing from Daenerys, closes the distance. The Lysene pleasure slave may now be a free woman, but she has a very particular set of skills, and she’s eager to use them. Her saunter over to him is as sultry as it is seductive, until she’s draping her arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss him. He lets her, just as he lets her move past his lips after a moment, to whisper in his ear.
 
“The khaleesi is still but a girl… she requires instruction in how best to please a man as virile as you. Perhaps together, we can show her.”
 
There’s no doubt in Jon’s mind that he’s about to fuck Daenerys’ three handmaidens. The only question is, how to go about things? Doreah clearly has something in mind… shall he go with the flow and see what she intends? Or perhaps he should do as he’s done countless times, and just dominate the exchange entirely.
 
Or perhaps words have no place here. Perhaps the only noise that any of the four women should be making for the next while is that of unintelligible pleasure as he fucks each and every one of them into a stupor…

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