He regards the greyface for a moment, giving a nod, “Athchomar chomakaan, stranger. What is your business with me?”
“He will not!” She laughed, looking up at Drogo with twinkling eyes. “He may think he is old enough to fight, but his mother will think otherwise, and his mother…” she kissed Drogo’s cheek. “Is the one he answers to. Eight years is still such a little boy, even for a Dothraki.” By his eighth year, Dany reflected, they would be in King’s Landing. How different their lives would be then! The future, it seemed, was brimming with promise and hope, bright and shiny, and she was suddenly fierce with determination that Drogo’s wound would not kill him. Could not, because there was so much else for them to live for.
As they lay together, peaceful and content, her eyes found her dragon eggs in the corner, studying them intently. They, too, seemed shiny with promise and hope, and she hummed a little, thoughtful sound. “Do you really suppose they’re empty?” she asked, looking up at Drogo, and for a fleeting second the young girl from Valyria returned, although not scared this time—wonderstruck. Hopeful, almost. “What if there are dragons in them?”
Drogo continued laughing, pulling her against his chest tightly, ignoring the wave of pain it brought, “Oh, moon of my life, you cannot be watching him every moment of the day. Rhaego will scurry away to follow his father the first chance you take your eyes from him,” He gazed down at her. Westeros seemed like such a distant place from where they were. With it’s huge stone houses and men in iron dresses, it seemed another world entirely to Drogo. He did not know how his Khalasar would react to such a bizarre place.
At her question, his eyes found the dragon eggs. They were pretty enough for decoration, he mused, but totally worthless otherwise, “They are too heavy to be truly empty,” he answered gruffly, turning his gaze back to hers, “The fat man in Pentos said there were dead dragons within, yes? He must be correct,” he said definitively. The look in her eyes, though, was so innocent and hopeful that he quickly amended, “But what do fat men in Pentos know of dragons?”
No one will fight for your brother as long as you are there, moon of my life. Cart King inspires no one.
He will never be king. Our son will.