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~~~~(Point of view: Azrael Sanchez)~~~~
~~~~(Date: 275 AC)~~~~
I sat in a large ornate wooden chair, which was lined with comfortable foam cushions, watching as several Dothraki women danced to the music, sensually moving their bodies, as they swayed their bare breasts, letting their breasts bounce each time they moved.
The party had begun several minutes ago, with the Dothraki drinking, eating and fucking alike. Filling the air with a strong smell of alcohol and sex.
At the foot of my chair, was Amanda, who was telling me Dothraki words and their meaning, at the same time correcting me when I said a word or two wrong, and although I had thought at first that it would be complicated, it wasn't.
Dothraki was very similar to Mongolian and Russian, especially in its phonetics and way of speaking, so it was easy for me to get the hang of it, especially since I could speak Russian.
Aside from Amanda camping me, there were also my blood riders sitting around me, drinking juices and beer, but still keeping an eye on their surroundings. What stood out most, however, were the five large wolves behind me, who, even lying on their bellies, still stood tall and strong, their black eyes scanning every one for dangers lurking against me.
"So, am I improving?" I asked Amanda in Dothraki, to which she only nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, my Khal, wonderfully indeed."
Being encouraged by my progress, I set about practicing what I knew so far, so I spoke to my blood riders, "Blood of my blood, do you have stories to share?"
I could see them look surprised once I spoke to them in Dothraki; at the same time, their faces changed to one of acceptance and respect, with Kakho being the first to answer me, "Blood of my blood, perhaps you would like to know how I earned my first bell."
Interested to know the story, I told him to continue, to which Kakho did not let me wait and began his tale; "I was very small then, maybe about fourteen years old, at that time, I did not belong to the Khalasar of Khal Gakro, the one you killed, I was a member of another Khalasar, a young one; I lived well there; but one morning, when I had taken my horse to graze, I found that my mother was being raped by another man of the Khalasar.
With every word from Kakho, I was filled with curiosity about his story, especially knowing that my blood riders and I were beginning to form bonds of brotherhood, especially now that the language barrier presented no problem.
"When I arrived, I found her being ridden like a dog, and without thinking, I grabbed the cauldron with which my mother was making the meal, which was still hot, and not caring that it burned my hands, I took it down from its stand and smashed it on the guy's head," Kakho continued to tell, flashing a cruel smile as he got to the part about the cauldron on the guy's head.
"I still remember the sound of his head splitting open from the blow, his fresh blood gushing from his wound, and his stupid wail of pain, but still, I didn't stop; I kept hitting him with the cauldron until I left his head in horse shit. I enjoyed that day, even if I couldn't grab my arakh for several days thanks to my burnt hands," he finished telling, laughing at his experience, with Qrano and Cakoqqo patting him on the back, supporting him in his decision to kill the man who hurt his mother.
For several minutes afterward, I continued to hear stories from them, each one being more gory and funereal than the last, yet, for some strange reason that I could not quite understand, I did not feel disgusted or annoyed by their actions; indeed, it filled me with... Pride? Maybe that was the right term; maybe I was adjusting faster than I thought to the Dothraki culture.
Once we talked more, and I got to know them a little better, I began to understand that while the Dothraki had a barbaric and savage culture, along with their rule of planting nothing and enslaving and killing anyone unlucky enough to be in their way, I also understood that once you earned their respect and loyalty, they became a pleasant company, one full of fights and battles, but no less pleasant for that.
At that, several women came up to dance for my blood riders, who accepted them with open arms as they groped their breasts and asses.
Of the group of women, one approached me cautiously because of the big wolves behind me, but once she saw that they wouldn't hurt her, she came even closer and started dancing to me while sitting on my lap from time to time and touching my body, and hell, it was a great experience.
Perhaps thanks to the large amount of testosterone in my bloodstream, I didn't notice how my wolves moved their ears from side to side, and how they kept looking intently at the woman who was sitting astride me.
I had my eyes on the woman's breasts, who was grabbing them with her hands like coconuts and running them over my face, making me feel glory. "Maegi," I heard the woman say, understanding that she was calling me a witch or something like that.
So, raising my serious face to the woman, I watched as she quickly pulled a small dagger from the belt of her skirt, as she attempted to stab me with it.
Only to be stopped when one of the wolves lunged at her, knocking her off me and alerting the others, who removed the women they had on them and wielded their arakh.
As for the woman, she was left with a mangled body thanks to the wolf's attack, becoming completely helpless once it attacked her, leaving her with her legs broken and one foot torn off, along with the right side of her face ripped off.
Determined to leave her alive to find out why she was trying to kill me, or if she had accomplices, I ordered the wolf to stop attacking her, who immediately obeyed, leaving the woman in her pitiful state and returning to my side, with the woman's foot in his mouth and dropping drops of blood.
"Here, give her this, let her be alive long enough, let them interrogate her and find out if she was acting alone or accompanied," I said to Zirqo, who forced the wounded woman to swallow a health potion. To then drag her to a hut where she would be interrogated.
Watching as Zirqo took the woman away, I approached my wolves and gave them each a cow to feast on, since they had saved my life.
That done, and knowing that the other women had no hidden daggers, I decided to carry on with the feast, hoping that such a scene would not be seen again, which I longed for.