Game of Dragonborn.

[Chapter Size: 2800 Words.]

Third Person POV.

Pentos.

...

...

Daenerys did not know when she had fallen asleep that night. She had stayed with the letter before her for some time after receiving it from the stranger. She remained there, staring at it, after reading and rereading it several times.

Illyrio's signature was on it, written in the same handwriting as the words on the page. She had never seen a letter from Illyrio before, but she also knew that someone claiming to be her kin would not simply stage something like this.

'I'm going to kill him.' Jon's words echoed in her mind, which meant Illyrio was already dead by now. Even so, the girl felt uneasy. That stranger had appeared, claiming to be her relative, presenting proof, and even saying things that left her deeply confused about the situation. With these thoughts, she fell asleep from mental exhaustion for a few hours until, in the early morning, before the sun had even risen, she began hearing noises from outside her room, quickly waking up.

She barely had time to fully open her eyes when her door was abruptly thrown open. Viserys entered the room, accompanied by a guard and men from Illyrio's household. Daenerys stood up, startled, wrapping her arms around herself in a reflexive gesture.

"Are you alright?" he murmured, looking at her with a certain concern. She just didn't know if it was for her actual well-being or if he was more focused on his own ambitions.

"What happened?" she asked timidly, still confused, though she had a guess.

"Someone killed Illyrio! He was found dead in his solar, along with his guards. They were lying in the corridor, dead as well," he said with a worried tone. It was rare to see Viserys like this, but it was clear his concern wasn't truly for her. He seemed more relieved than anything else, a small smile forming as he finally saw her there.

"Well, in any case, I don't know what happened, but this won't stop your wedding today," he said, his expression mixing relief and analysis. Viserys knew the army he so desired was just within his reach, and he wouldn't lose this opportunity, no matter how bizarre the situation of having a potential murderer in the mansion might be.

"I want you to get ready for the wedding," he simply ordered her. But then his eyes fell on the table, where some partially eaten fruit still lay. His expression darkened immediately.

"Dany, did you eat?" he murmured angrily, while Daenerys lowered her gaze.

"I... I..." she tried to reply, but the words failed her.

Viserys didn't hide his fury. His glare carried disdain, a stark contrast to before. "I told you not to eat anything! Did someone bring this to you anyway? Do you want to wake the dragon?" he shouted, stepping closer to her with the intent of striking her.

"My lord, this is unwise!" a man quickly intervened, grabbing Viserys's arm before he could touch her. "She cannot appear injured before Khal Drogo. That would be an offense, and we could all die," he said.

The man was a trusted servant sent to investigate what had happened. He was also there to ensure Daenerys had not been kidnapped following Illyrio's death.

Viserys stopped, turning to the man with a displeased look, but the other swallowed hard and continued:

"The wedding cannot be delayed. There are 100,000 Dothraki on the other side of the city walls. We cannot provoke a war with the Khal, or no one here will survive. I don't know what happened first, but we will investigate. For now, we must handle the Khal and let the wedding proceed. We'll deal with the murder later," he said, while Viserys glared at him in irritation.

"Fine. I'll deal with you after the wedding," Viserys replied sharply, looking directly at his sister before leaving the room.

The man who had spoken called for some maidservants to enter the room and help Daenerys prepare.

The whole situation felt strange, but Daenerys kept the letter hidden among the bedclothes. She wanted to show it to Viserys and tell him this was all just a setup, that his destiny was simply to let others rule the Iron Throne in place of their family, and that this marriage would lead to nothing. But what could she do?

First, Viserys would not understand. Second, there was an entire Khalasar on the other side of the wall. They couldn't refuse. Even if Viserys tried, it was already too late to stop the wedding. There was another suggestion from the man called Daemon Targaryen, but what could Daenerys think about that? She was filled with apprehension about a stranger appearing and claiming he could save her from this, especially after so many betrayals in the past. Yet his actions also raised questions. After all, he could have killed her and fled.

Thus, Daenerys was led through a series of beauty preparations throughout the morning. Her gaze remained distant as she thought about everything she had heard from the man who claimed to be her nephew. He seemed much older than he claimed to be—perhaps Rhaenys's age or even older than her, Rhaegar's eldest daughter. But that did not matter now. She followed the servants' instructions as they bathed her naked body and applied oils all over.

Meanwhile, chaos enveloped Illyrio's mansion. Guards and servants scoured the premises for any trace of the assassin, but nothing was discovered. Illyrio's lifeless body, with his neck broken, was the subject of whispers among the servants, who gossiped openly in front of Daenerys. Yet no one paid her much attention, focused entirely on their tasks.

Finally, Daenerys was taken away, having had nothing to eat, as they wanted to keep her stomach empty to enhance her beauty. The wedding would take place in the early afternoon. Guards escorted her while Viserys, visibly restless, ensured everything was in order. He didn't speak a word to her, though a Westerosi man accompanying him at the time looked at her with a trace of pity. Daenerys didn't know who he was.

She was placed alone in a carriage by the servant who had replaced Illyrio, and they moved out of the city.

The Dothraki were ready. They had gathered around a massive circle—nearly 100,000 people—all celebrating the wedding of their Khal, Drogo, to the woman who would become their Khaleesi.

She had no one to share her thoughts with. Sitting alone in the enclosed carriage, she felt the weight of countless eyes directed at it from outside. Even though they couldn't see her directly, the atmosphere of that place intimidated her. She trembled slightly as the carriage moved through the crowd. At last, it came to a stop.

The door opened, revealing Viserys looking directly at her.

"Come, Daenerys. It's time for you to meet your future husband," Viserys said, attempting to sound like a loving brother. But Daenerys knew it was all a facade.

She was led outside, where a large circle had formed, with everyone present staring at her. At its center were two chairs: one already occupied by Khal Drogo, whom she had seen before, seated on a platform, and the other empty, meant for her.

"You must lead her there," Illyrio's servant said, guiding Daenerys toward the chair. Viserys took her to the platform, appearing to greet Khal Drogo with a smile, though the Khal didn't bother to show anything other than a serious expression. This seemed to irritate Viserys, but he said nothing and descended from the platform.

Timidly, Daenerys approached, trembling as she moved. When she finally sat down, she avoided looking at Khal Drogo. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on the crowd watching.

Khal Drogo then stood and turned to the crowd, speaking a few words in Dothraki. Immediately, the people began to move. He had officially initiated the wedding ceremony, and he returned to his seat.

The moment transformed into a Dothraki celebration. Daenerys watched as the feast began, and people started to dance. Naked women tried to seduce the men present, while others openly indulged in carnal acts in public, without any shame, as men simply exposed themselves and penetrated women, who moaned while being taken.

Daenerys saw her brother sitting in the distance, observing everything with an unwavering gaze. He seemed to be waiting for everything to go according to plan, for the pact with the Khal to be sealed.

Suddenly, her attention was drawn to a brutal scene: a man attempted to force himself upon one of the women already engaged with another Dothraki. The second man quickly shoved him away. The two locked eyes, drew their blades, and began to fight. The crowd stepped back to make space, and after exchanging a few blows, one of the men was killed.

The crowd seemed delighted by this, while Viserys appeared entertained, but Daenerys felt fear grip her body. She took deep breaths, trying to steady herself. This wasn't for her. She didn't want to live this kind of life, surrounded by brutal scenes like this for the rest of her days.

More deaths followed as others continued indulging in their carnal desires right there, under the open sky. The moans and cries of the dying mingled, leaving Daenerys increasingly terrified.

She looked at the crowd, desperate, and then saw someone standing in the distance, hooded. The figure was motionless, staring directly at her even under the blazing sun, with purple eyes fixed on her. No one else seemed to notice his presence, but she knew who it was. Daenerys swallowed hard. That man was waiting for her response.

Daemon's words echoed in her mind. 'You'll end up living with the Dothraki in the desert until you die, and your brother will die long before that.'

The sight of the Khal smiling amid the chaos made her heart clench even tighter. The nervousness within her grew, and at that moment, she realized she couldn't take it anymore. She needed someone to take her away from this. Someone to save her from this marriage, this destiny, and even from her brother, who had so often threatened and hurt her under the pretense that she was "waking the dragon" in him.

"Dragonborn!" Daenerys suddenly exclaimed. Her voice cut through the noise of the celebration, drawing everyone's attention. Khal Drogo looked at her, surprised, while others stopped and stared, trying to understand what it meant.

Even the music stopped. Daenerys appeared nervous but doubled down. "Dragonborn!" she shouted again.

Khal Drogo said something to her, but Daenerys ignored it, unable to understand. Her eyes searched desperately for the stranger she had seen earlier. However, Jon was no longer in the spot where she had first seen him. Daenerys looked in every direction, desperately hoping her words hadn't been in vain, even though she had drawn far too much attention to herself.

"What are you doing, Daenerys?" her brother shouted, furious at her strange and inappropriate behavior.

"She's calling me." Jon's voice came at that moment, making Viserys turn to see a hooded stranger stepping out of the crowd. "I'm answering the call," Jon said to his foolish uncle.

He left that spot, advancing through the Dothraki toward the open space at the center of the wedding. The crowd watched him in astonishment.

"Hey, you! I saw you speaking the Common Tongue," Jon said to one of Illyrio's mansion servants who was present. The man looked at him, visibly shaken.

"Who is this? Why is he doing this?" Viserys continued yelling angrily as Jon cast a dangerous look at the servant. The man swallowed hard and reluctantly nodded.

"I want you to relay my message. Tell them I'm here to kill Khal Drogo and take Daenerys Targaryen with me," Jon said simply.

The servant hesitated but delivered the message. Khal Drogo heard the words and cast a serious look at Daenerys, who appeared even more nervous. Still, he did not rise. Instead, one of his bloodriders stepped forward in his place, approaching Jon while saying something in Dothraki.

"He says his name is Qotho, and he will kill you in honor of the Khal," the servant translated for Jon, who remained still, watching the bloodrider approach.

The Dothraki warrior advanced with his signature weapon, an arakh, in hand, but Jon didn't move. He was unarmed, yet his posture was calm, almost defiant.

Without hesitation, the warrior lunged, raising his weapon to strike quickly. Jon, however, dodged by mere inches, astonishing everyone. Before the warrior could react, Jon grabbed his wrist and snapped it with an audible crack. The man tried to scream in pain, but there was no time. Jon seized his arakh and, with a swift motion, slit his throat.

The warrior fell to his knees, his eyes wide with terror as he watched Jon pass by, now holding the Dothraki weapon. The man's body collapsed, lifeless, amidst the absolute silence of the crowd.

Everyone was stunned, witnessing a bloodrider like Qotho being killed so easily, especially since his reputation for fighting alongside Khal Drogo in countless battles was well-known across the Dothraki desert.

"Tell the Khal that if he wants to fight me in front of the 100,000 Dothraki here, let him do it. Stop stalling like a coward," Jon said to the servant, who seemed utterly terrified.

The words were relayed to Khal Drogo, who this time looked directly at Jon. His serious expression no longer bore any trace of amusement. He rose slowly, while Daenerys, nervous, sank back into her chair, trying to steady her breathing.

Drogo advanced, beginning to shout some words at Jon as he unsheathed his weapon. The entire Khalasar watched intently, the atmosphere heavy with tension.

"He said he will serve..." the servant began to translate, but Jon raised his hand, stopping him.

"You don't need to say it. I know he's threatening me, promising to kill me in every way possible. But I don't care. He'll be a corpse soon," Jon replied coldly, his gaze fixed on the Dothraki advancing with a dark, angry expression.

Without warning, Khal Drogo prepared himself, flexing his knees, his long braid swinging as he shouted something in his native tongue. Jon pulled back his hood, revealing his face as he sneered disdainfully.

"I see you talk too much, desert fool," Jon taunted.

Khal Drogo clearly didn't like the words, even if he didn't understand them. He made the first move, charging at Jon with great force. Agilely, Jon dodged the attack. Khal Drogo was taller, standing over two meters, while Jon was about 1.90 meters. But the Khal's sheer physical strength didn't intimidate Jon, who didn't need to exert his full force to outmaneuver the massive man, frustrating his opponent with a simple sidestep.

Drogo lunged again, their arakhs clashing with a powerful impact. Yet Jon remained unmoved as Drogo tried to press him, only to be pushed back. Everyone present was stunned by what they were witnessing.

"He's toying with the Khal..." Jorah Mormont murmured to himself, frowning as he watched. Viserys clenched his teeth at the sight, equally displeased.

Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd. The great Khal Drogo, the most feared of the Dothraki, was being challenged and humiliated as he launched more attacks at Jon. Each strike Drogo made was countered with precision and skill, leaving no openings.

Jon maintained his defense until he shifted tactics, increasing the pressure against Drogo. He forced the Khal to retreat, evading each strike with quick movements. Then, in a decisive moment, Jon kicked Drogo in the stomach, causing him to stagger backward. Jon's arakh came close to Drogo's face as he stumbled and fell. Drogo hit the ground, furious and humiliated.

Jon approached, grabbing the Khal's long braid—a symbol of his undefeated prowess in battle until that day. Jon studied it briefly with curiosity before tossing it to the ground. The enraged Khal tried to rise and charge again under the silent gaze of everyone present.

Jon decided to end it. As Drogo raised his weapon once more, Jon countered each strike and launched a relentless assault against the Khal. Drogo attempted to defend himself, but Jon was merciless. With precise, rapid movements and little effort, Jon severed Drogo's arm, causing the Khal's weapon to fall from his grasp. Before Drogo could react, Jon delivered the final blow, decapitating him.

Khal Drogo's head fell to the ground, and his body collapsed heavily. Silence enveloped the gathering. The great Khal, the feared leader of one of the largest Dothraki Khalasars, had been defeated with a swiftness that no one could believe.

The crowd watched, stunned, as Jon remained standing, calmly inspecting his blood-covered blade. His gaze then shifted to Daenerys, his eyes widening as they locked onto hers.

-------------Nexts Chapters ----------------

Chapter 65 - Reuniting with Mance.

Chapter 70 - Taking Leadership of Camp 05. 

Chapter 80 - It's Time to Act. 

Chapter 89 - The Despair of Cersei Lannister.

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