Somewhere in The Reach…

The sound of burning brush, dying men, and horses echoed in the air. Dickon Tarly rode down the last of the Dothraki scum, nailing him from a distance with an arrow. Their mission was to destroy the stronghold, but they'd been diverted by a farce front. They believed they were already attacking the stronghold but it had been a mere trick, the actual hold being another 2 day's ride. Dickon's father made it clear not to spare any, to take no prisoners. He almost began to ride away, but not before spotting movement from a tent. He drew his bow and prepared to kill him, but not before seeing the figure's face. It was just a boy, no older than Dickon had been himself just years ago. His face was full of fear, and his eyes practically pleaded for his life.

Dickon sighed. "Go. Tell whoever you follow what happened here. Tell them we will water our burnt fields with their blood."

The frightened young boy nodded. He probably didn't speak Common, but likely knew enough to understand that that was a warning. He dashed off to find a horse and rode south like a demon was at his heels.

The Dothraki boy dug his heels into the mare's side, galloping at a breakneck pace. The horse was lathering, and like to pass out soon. The boy sighted his stronghold and continued to dash right in, still at a straight gallop. He jumped out of the saddle right before the exhausted mare collapsed and ran to Khal Jhako's tent. He burst into the tent, interrupting the Khal and his wife.

"Father!"

The Khal looked up angrily at his son, and pushed his wife off of him. "Stupid boy!" Jhako shouted in Dothraki. He went to strike the boy, but stopped upon seeing the dead mare outside the tent. "What is this? Who killed this horse?"

The Khal's son spoke quickly. "They're coming, Father. The Westerosi knights have promised to kill all of us."

"Then we will meet them with fire arrows and blood."

Khal Jhako's wife spoke softly. "My Khal, I don't think fighting will help. Your men are starving and can hardly ride."

Jhako grunted in frustration and stopped to think. "Khago, come," He put his hand on his son's shoulders and motioned outside. "Our Khaleesi promised to protect us. Look at us now. We starve and die, while she hides in her red palace." Jhako walked up to the still smoking pyre of his youngest daughter, perished of starvation. He grabbed the hot skull right off the ashes, wrapped it, and handed it to Khago.

"Go and ride to the red palace. Give this to our Khaleesi, remind her of her promises. Tell her what has happened here. Make her remember who won her this kingdom, who gave her her fiery heart."

Khago shuddered, but obeyed, taking the skull, along with meager provisions, mounted the freshest horse, and trotted towards King's Landing.

King's Landing

This time Jon sat on the Iron Throne, with Daenerys by his side. The day had been largely uneventful, just reports of the summer harvest, and news of the coming autumn. The last compliant of the day was abrupt and unannounced. The herald did not even announce the young Dothraki boy as he approached the throne.

"You may speak," Jon permissed.

Khago spoke rapidly in Dothraki, ignoring the frantic looks.

Jon held up his hands. "Whoa now! Slow down and speak calmly," He looked towards Daenerys, who was fluent in Dothraki. "Tell me what he says, love."

Khago started again, much slower this time. "My name is Khago, son of Khal Jhako of the Reach Stronghold,"

Jon interrupted him before Dany could finish translating. "The Reach? Your khalasar has been burning and raiding our people's fields. I should execute you where you stand for treason."

Dany interfered. "You will not! I am their Khaleesi; they are sworn to me. I will hear what Khago, son of Jhako has to say."

Jon sighed and motioned for the boy to continue.

"My father…would send you a reminder of your promises," Khago moved closer to the throne, prompting the caution of the Kingsguard. He started to carefully unwrap his sister's skull and repeated his father's words. "Let my sister, who died of hunger, be a symbol of your broken promises. Let this skull serve as a symbol of our suffering, as a reminder not to forget your starving khalasar."

Dany choked on the words as she repeated them to Jon and stared at the charred skull. Dany spoke up before Jon could. "You will stay here at the Red Keep. We will send provisions to your stronghold, in agreement to stop your raiding," Jon stared at the skull as well. "If the raiding and pillaging is not stopped…we will be forced to act against you."

Khago bowed and removed the skull from sight. Dany descended and led the boy to a guest chamber. Jon followed suit after inquiring if there were any more compliants.

Khago cautiously sat in a chair after marveling at the silverware. Dany and Jon stood, ready to question him.

Dany spoke up first. "Your sister…did she really die of hunger?"

Khago nodded vigorously. "She could not eat or even drink water, she was so sickly."

Jon chimed in. "A shame, that's good land you're living on."

"We don't know anything about it," Khago spoke. "Dothraki ride, we do not sow, we take our food and horses."

"Then I suppose we'll have to send someone to teach you to. Like I said, we can't have you trampling our fields. We too have people to feed."

Jon agreed. "Yes, and as the North would say 'winter is coming'. I don't intend to have the whole realm starve when it does."

Khago nodded, still somewhat distracted by a silver goblet. "I suppose that will work. A night of rest will do me well; I'm sweaty and hungry, and my ass is sore from riding. Then tomorrow I will leave with these provisions."

Jon and Daenerys looked at each other for a moment. They both knew they couldn't let the boy return immediately. They needed to secure Khal Jhako's loyalty, and there was no better way they knew how.

Dany looked back at Khago, who was stuffing several silver spoons in his trousers, but immediately placed them back. "You will not leave tomorrow, nor the next day, nor the next week. You will stay here, as our ward. Do not worry, we will still send food to your father."

Khago stared in shock at Dany and Jon. "What? No, you can't keep me here, my place is not here, not in this red palace," He argued. "No, I must return." He tried to leave but Jon held him back, gripping his shoulders.

"No need in fighting. You'll be treated well here, taught the Common tongue, fed well, and trained in the ways of court. You'll be raised alongside my own son."

Khago sat on the floor in defeat. When he was on the battlefield he was afraid, when his comrades were killed he was afraid then too, but only now did tears flow freely from his eyes.