Game of Thrones Iron Stark

Daenerys Targaryen had gone from a frightened girl to the fierce Khaleesi of the greatest khalasar on the Dothraki sea. She rode at the head of her own guard now, Jorah Mormont and a handful of Drogo's bloodriders at her sides.

Today the khalasar had fallen on three villages like wolves. Men were cut down where they stood. Children were roasted over open fires. Women were taken screaming into the grass. Shrines were smashed and burned.

Daenerys watched it all with cold eyes.

"Has it always been like this?" she asked Jorah quietly.

The exiled knight's mouth was a hard line. "They are Dothraki, Khaleesi. Same as the ironborn back home. They do not plow. They do not trade. They take what they want because they can. That is their way."

Daenerys saw one of Drogo's bloodriders dragging a young woman toward the tall grass, already tearing at her clothes.

"Stop them," she said. "All of them. Now."

The bloodriders looked at her like she had lost her mind.

Jorah tried to reason with her. "Khaleesi, these men fought and bled for Khal Drogo today. This is their reward. You cannot take it from them."

Daenerys turned on him, violet eyes blazing. "I am Khaleesi. I can. Bring every woman here to me. Now."

The bloodriders muttered angrily but obeyed. They yanked the screaming women away from their brothers and shoved them toward Daenerys's small circle. The men glared at her with open hate.

Farther out on the grass, Khal Drogo listened to the complaints with a wide, savage grin.

"Look at her," he told his bloodriders, laughing. "My moon has teeth now. She grows wilder every day."

When Daenerys rode up, Drogo's eyes were bright with approval.

"My sun and stars," she said, voice steady. "One of your bloodriders says I stole his prize. He is right. I took them all."

Drogo chuckled. "And why would my moon do such a thing?"

"Because I am Khaleesi," Daenerys answered. "And these women are mine now."

One of the bloodriders stepped forward, face dark with rage. "We fight and die for the khal. If we are not given what we earn, what stops us from riding away?"

Daenerys met his stare without flinching.

"You call this fighting?" she said coldly. "You butchered old men, women, and children. You did not face the Unsullied. You did not face the Golden Company. You slaughtered the weak. Do not speak to me of glory."

---

Back in Winterfell, the great hall was loud with laughter and the smell of roast rabbit. Bran and little Rickon sat on either side of Tony, eyes bright at having him home. Jaime and Tyrion shared the table with them, along with a quiet Night's Watch brother named Yulen who had ridden south with the party.

Rickon poked at the rabbit on his plate. "Tony, are you staying this time? Maester Luwin is old. You could be the new maester here."

Tony ruffled the boy's hair. "Not yet, little wolf. I have business in King's Landing. But I'll be back before you know it."

A servant Tony didn't recognize approached with a heavy stone pot of fish stew. The man kept his head low, eyes hidden.

Robb frowned. "I don't remember you. Where did you come from?"

"Fled south, my lord," the man muttered. "Refugee. Please don't send me away."

Robb waved him off. "Fine. Just serve the food."

Theon leaned in with a proud grin. "Try the cod, Tony. I pulled it out of the river myself. Best thing you'll taste north of the Neck."

Tyrion raised his cup. "I've eaten in every kitchen in King's Landing. I'm curious what the North considers fine dining."

The servant ladled thick stew into Rickon's bowl first, then moved toward Bran with the pot. Rickon, ever polite, pushed his bowl toward Tony.

"Tony, you try first."

Tony took a careful sip.

Iron. Sharp and wrong.

His eyes snapped up just as the servant's hand dipped into the pot. A flash of steel.

Tony moved fast. He grabbed the man's wrist and twisted hard. The dagger clattered onto the table.

Chairs scraped. Steel rang as Robb, Theon, Jaime, and the guards drew their blades. Yulen was on his feet in an instant.

"Talk," Tony said, voice like winter. "Who sent you?"

The man's mouth twisted into a ugly smile. "The king sends his regards—"

He bit down hard. Foam and blood burst from his lips. He dropped before anyone could catch him.

Tony picked up the dagger. The moment he saw the strange dark metal and the familiar shape, everyone else recognized it too.

It was the same blade they had pulled from the salmon's belly weeks ago. The one Robert had claimed for himself.

"Seven hells," Theon whispered.

Tyrion stared at the dead man. "That's the dagger from the hunt. Robert took it."

Tony's face was cold. "This wasn't Robert. Eddard and Robert are closer than brothers. This plot smells of King's Landing, but not the king."

He looked at Robb. "Your father and mother are in danger. I'm riding south tonight. You hold Winterfell. Prepare for trouble from the south… or the north. War is coming, whether we like it or not."

Robb, only fourteen, swallowed hard but nodded. The weight that had already been settling on his shoulders grew heavier.

---

Word of what Daenerys had done reached Khal Drogo before nightfall.

He was still laughing when she dismounted in front of him.

"My fierce moon," he said, pulling her close. "You stole the women from my bloodriders. They are angry."

Daenerys lifted her chin. "They are mine now. I claimed them."

Drogo studied her for a long moment, then grinned wider. "Good. Let them be angry. A khaleesi who cannot protect what is hers is no khaleesi at all."

One of the bloodriders stepped forward again, hand on his arakh.

"If we are not rewarded for our blood, Khal Drogo, then perhaps we should find a khal who will reward us."

Daenerys turned on him before Drogo could answer.

"You want a reward?" she said, voice like a blade. "Then earn one worth having. Stop butchering the weak and start fighting real enemies. Until then, the women stay with me."

The bloodrider's hand tightened on his weapon.

Daenerys did not look away.

She was no longer the frightened girl who had crossed the Narrow Sea.

She was Khaleesi.

And she was done being gentle.