Dragon King of Ice and Fire

The next day dawned cloudless and scorching, the sun as relentless as ever.

Standing before the ruins of the desolate city, Drogo clasped his hands behind his back and gazed toward the approaching caravan of camels. His mood soured again under the suffocating heat.

The Red Waste truly was, as the superstitious Irri and Qhira claimed, a land forsaken by the gods. They had trudged through it for nearly half a year without being blessed by even a single drop of rain.

Drogo had asked Xaro how far Qarth was. According to the merchant prince, the city was about ten days away—four or five if they didn't stop to rest.

Drogo trusted that the promised treasure would arrive on time. Qartheen servants—mostly branded slaves—would never dare disobey their master's orders. So he had chosen today as the day of departure.

Sure enough, before noon, the caravan arrived. Their handlers wore linen and brocade, their skin shades of black and white—servants sent to deliver treasure.

As the camels bearing bronze chests halted before him, Drogo raised his arms. Immediately, his bell-adorned warriors surged forward, surrounding the dozen exhausted servants.

Only then did the slaves realize they had been deceived. Their bruised and battered master had told them it was a business deal and instructed them to bring all his wealth. Instead, they had been delivered into a den of wolves.

Faced with these savage Dothraki, they didn't resist.

Drogo had half-expected Pyat Pree, warlock of the House of the Undying, to send assassins or stir up trouble—but nothing happened. It seemed Xaro truly had been abandoned by his former allies.

Drogo signaled his bloodriders to personally unload the twenty large bronze chests. Then he summoned Daenerys and Ser Jorah to inspect them.

Inside was a dazzling array of riches: jade and onyx vessels, gem-studded jewelry, ivory, pearls, dark amethysts—every kind of treasure one could imagine.

Drogo couldn't help but marvel. Even stripped of his power, Xaro's "display pieces" could still dazzle. No wonder he had been the richest man in Qarth—at least in appearance.

"My moon," Drogo said warmly, recalling Xaro's flirtations. "Take whatever you like."

Delighted, Daenerys picked out a few trinkets, but after a moment's hesitation, she set them back down with a sigh.

Drogo looked surprised. "You don't like them?"

Daenerys smiled softly. "Of course I do, my sun and stars. But these are meant to purchase the Unsullied. If we grow our forces, I know I'll receive better gifts. They say the finest artisans gather in Westeros—surely I'll find more beautiful things there. When my children are grown, the world's treasures will be ours to choose from."

Drogo wasn't sure whether to praise her foresight or be annoyed by her constant hints about crossing the sea.

He responded seriously: "Dragons are not invincible. Even Aegon's sisters—Rhaenys and Visenya—lost their dragons in battle. We cannot rely on dragons alone. We need brave warriors to fill in the gaps. Even if we conquer the Seven Kingdoms, someone must remain to hold them."

Daenerys had heard the tales. As a Targaryen, she believed in the dragons' might—but her husband had a point. With Ser Jorah nearby, she chose a diplomatic answer.

"You're right. We must proceed step by step."

Drogo ruffled her silver-gold hair affectionately. "Good. As long as we are united, we will break the wheel of history—together."

"Mm."

She nestled into his chest, rubbing her cheek against him lovingly.

Watching them, Ser Jorah's face twisted. Jealousy swelled within him, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

But he had no time to dwell. Drogo suddenly turned to him with a pointed question.

"Ser Jorah, you've traveled the Free Cities. You know the market value of the Unsullied. With these treasures, how many can I buy in Astapor?"

The knight examined the goods, then bowed slightly.

"My lord Khal, I estimate these could buy roughly one thousand Unsullied."

Drogo frowned. "Only a thousand? Not enough. How many are in Astapor total?"

Jorah replied, "I can't say for sure—maybe ten thousand? Most of the boys sold in Slaver's Bay are bought by Astapor's Good Masters and trained."

"Then I'll go see for myself," Drogo muttered.

Jorah hesitated. "Khal, you only need worry about how many you can afford. You'll only be allowed to purchase a thousand. That much is certain."

A chill entered Drogo's voice. "And who told you what I can afford?"

Still seething with envy, Jorah muttered, "Even if you sold us all, you might get fifty more."

Drogo chuckled, clapping his shoulder. "You'll see. No matter how many Unsullied there are—I can afford them. And more."

A sudden thought struck Jorah. His voice shook. "You're not thinking of trading a dragon, are you? That's worth more than any army."

Daenerys pulled away from Drogo's chest, eyes fierce. "They are my children. No one trades them!"

They had guessed his plan—but not all of it.

"We'll see," Drogo said vaguely. "We may not need the dragons at all."

Then, he mounted his horse and called out:

"My people! Pack everything. Bloodriders, take the Qartheen pig and lead the way. We march for Astapor!"

Jorah gently nudged Daenerys, who looked dazed.

"Come, Khaleesi. The hatchlings are the Khal's children too. He's wise. He won't do anything foolish."

The three dragons, clueless and cheerful, trailed behind Drogo's horse as they re-entered the Red Waste.

Watching them, a surge of sorrow rose in Daenerys' chest. She clenched her fists.

"If Mirri Maz Duur's prophecy is true and I can never bear children… then these dragons are all I have. I swear—no one will take them from me. No one. No one!"

She stumbled forward, scooping the dragons into her arms. Pressing her forehead to theirs, she sobbed.

"Wuu… huu…"

Her cries echoed—raw and helpless.

.

.

.

🐉 Dragon King of Ice and Fire

📢 Hear Me Roar, Lords and Ladies! 📢

Dragon King of Ice and Fire now has 30 chapters ahead available exclusively on Patreon! 🐉🔥❄️

Step into the realm of dragons, power, and destiny—early access awaits those brave enough to claim the throne. 👑⚔️

🔗 Join here: www.patreon.com/c/MrMagnus👤 Patreon name: SrMagnus

Thank you for your unwavering support. Winter—and fire—is coming. 🐺🔥