Dany sat at the table quietly, trying to keep a false smile on her face while she chewed in small, polite bites.
She was miserable. She couldn't even understand most of what the guests were saying. They were speaking in the city's bastardized version of Dothraki. Drogo called it Rothnak. He could follow along fairly well, though he spoke much more slowly than most of the men. A small handful of guests spoke to him in Dothraki, but only briefly. As if they were trying to impress him.
Dany was glad she had chosen to wear her riding leathers instead of a dress. She was painfully aware of the fact that she was the only woman at the table. Athnash and Lillouet did not join them, instead they stood against the wall stoically. Like the other female guards in the room.
She could feel the eyes of all the men at the table exploring her body. She felt as bare and vulnerable as if she were naked. So far, not a single person except Drogo had bothered to speak to her. This would not concern her much if the meal was anything like the one in Kayakayanana. But instead it comprised of goats milk, tough slabs of beef and piles of a mashed woody vegetable of some sort. Everything was heavily spiced and very salty. Even the milk seemed to have some kind of spice or flavour added to it. Dany was glad that with her small size, no one would think twice about the small portions she served herself. She was also glad for the goats milk, for the excess salt gave her a thirst like none other.
This left her with plenty of time to observe the men at the table. They were all dark and thickly built like the Dothraki, but they were richly dressed. Many had short hair, or it was bound in braids piled atop their heads. Many of them had stomachs protruding from their robes.
The man at the head of the table, on Drogo's left side, appeared to be the Satoshi man Drogo had mentioned earlier. When they entered he had bellowed at Drogo, grabbing his arm and clapping him on the back. He was a small, older man. Richly dressed in deep plum shaded robes. His leggings looked like they were soft lambskin, and the sash around his waist appeared to be silk. On his head, partially concealing his thinning hair, was a gold diadem wrought in the shape of interwoven twigs. He mostly listened to the others and ate. He repeatedly sent the small serving boys to the kitchen to bring him more to drink. Dany suspected it was not milk, for he became progressively red in the face.
She sighed, bored, and picked at her plate. Drogo must have heard her, for he reached for her hand and skimmed his thumb across her knuckles repeatedly, soothing her. She looked up into his warm gaze, darkened by lines of charcoal above and below his eyes. His hair and moustache smelled of fresh oil and spices, for she had washed, braided and oiled it before they left. He also smelled faintly of sex and sweat, making Dany's face flush. She recalled the deep grumble and growl of his voice as they made love that morning, and the way he held her against him. She softened as he looked at her, comforted that he recognized her distress. They must have been looking at each other long enough for people to notice, for Satoshi tapped Drogo on the shoulder and asked him something.
"Naeh rah mae tok no dith maurak to nadet? Disymuth to nakit no dith mau nok taerunak niporen gath rae, yi man near to vaenery vaes raeur?
Dany flushed. It may not have been a familiar tongue, but he spoke slowly and carried a Dothraki accent. But she recognized enough of it to understand that he was asking about her. She saw Lillouet stiffen and scowl. She gestured for her to approach.
"Did you understand that, what he asked just now?"
"Khaleesi.. it would not be proper for me to repeat those words. Especially not here." Dany fumed at her in response.
"Tell me!" She was whispering, but her tone was sharp enough to cause Drogo to glance over at them, eyebrow raised.
"He asked… where the Khal found a pale one like you. He asked if it was true that they trained the women from the west to fuck like whores when they're children, since they are not adept in womanly arts. Many of the men at the table have been making bawdy jokes about you, since you are not adorned like a body guard." Lillouet's ears reddened as she told her. She bowed her head at Dany and quietly slipped back to her post against the wall.
Dany was furious. How could Drogo sit there and allow this withered old man to mock her like that? Enraged, she brought her fist down onto the table. The commotion got the attention of the old man, and when he was looking towards her she asked, "I am Daenerys Targaryen, leader of the greatest Khalasar of the century. I will not be mocked by some elderly lordling at the dinner table, if you would be so kind." Her eyes burned into his. But he did not seem disturbed, or even intrigued by her words.
"Quiet, you." He responded evenly, before returning back to his meal. The men at the table began to eat and chat again, as if nothing had happened.
Flabbergasted, Dany stood up. Drogo reached up, placing his palm on her shoulder.
"My love, please." He growled. She shrugged his hand off.
"It was not enough to blatantly ignore me, your guest, but you feel it is necessary to insult me as well?" She raged, trying to make each word into a dagger that would dig into his ears. Now he looked annoyed. He stood up slowly.
"Sit. Down." He bellowed at her. His face had turned faintly purple, and several veins stood out on his forehead. Dany was taken aback, and she heard the clink of Lillouet's arrows in her quiver as she moved towards Dany.
Lillouet placed a hand on Dany's shoulder, and gently pressed downwards.
"Please. Ma dan." She whispered. Dany detected desperation in her voice.
Dany left out the breath she had been holding and sat. She could feel her ears and the back of her neck burning. Thoroughly chastised, she cast her eyes towards her meager supper. But she no longer had an appetite. So for the remainder of the meal, she sipped on her cup of milk. Lillouet stayed close behind her, gently massaging her shoulder. Her husband took her small hand in his, and held it for the remainder of the meal.