"Glory is not given; it is seized with blood and iron. A king who fears war is no king at all, for power is not kept by kindness, but by the strength to crush those who would take it. Let my enemies sharpen their swords, for mine is already drawn."
Aegon Targaryen to ********************
(One year Later)
Name: Aegon Targaryen
Age: 15
Free Points: 20,000
Skills ( max skill level is 15/ normal people can only reach lv10 max in any skill): Swordsman (lv 10), dagger (lv 2) Archery (lv 10), Dothraki language (lv5), flame immunity, Warging(lv1) Blood magic proficiency(lv8), sacrificial magic proficiency(lv8)
Body: 260
Mind:220
Blood:10,410
Subordinates: Jacko, Baqo, Rakho, Vezho, Khalmor, Tegro, Khorro
One year later Aegon was now fifteen years old, and a lot had changed, his tribe had grown to twenty-five thousand strong, and with that came problems.
Ruling Dothraki was not the same as ruling Westerosi lords.
There were no courts, no diplomacy, no laws beyond strength.
Aegon had learned this quickly.
Dothraki followed a Khal because he was the strongest. That was the only law that mattered to them. If he showed weakness, if he faltered, another would rise to take his place.
And yet, strength alone would not be enough.
Aegon could see the limits of how the Dothraki fought, and how they lived. He had conquered them, but if he wanted to wield them as a true weapon, they would have to change.
And change was not easy.
His plan had taken months to show effect and he had faced resistance, but those voices were quickly dealt with by his bloodriders.
With now all of his Bloodrider had command over three thousand men and the rest were left to him.
This made passing orders easier, also Aegon had also started training the Dothraki in different fighting methods, like fighting off their horses.
he had even started to tell the Dothraki that the sea wasn't poison, as he would need not all of them but some of them when he was ready to go to Westeros.
His bloodriders were easy to mold and change thanks to how loyal they were to him, but for the other changes he wanted to put in place, they would have to wait until these small ones had taken root completely.
Aegon sat alone in his tent, eyes fixed on the map stretched out before him.
For the past month, his khalasar had remained at peace a rare thing in the Dothraki Sea.
No battles.
No conquests.
Only the quiet tension of warriors with nowhere to unleash their bloodlust.
Even now, he could hear the muffled sounds of the camp beyond his tent. The distant neighing of horses, the laughter of warriors, the sound of weapons being sharpened restless men preparing for the next war.
Aegon sighed.
His mind was busy planning and plotting as the time of his entrance on the grand stage was fast approaching.
The map before him was proof of that.
It was a detailed layout of the Dothraki Sea and the lands beyond from the Free Cities to the distant Jade Sea. His eyes hovered over Pentos, Myr, and Volantis.
Rumors had already begun to spread of a silver-haired Khal ruling over a growing horde, different from any Dothraki before him.
And the Free Cities were paying attention, if the men they had sent to check out the rumors were any indication, of course, they never managed to return as Aegon killed them.
The Dothraki had always been a force of chaos, raiders who burned and plundered but never ruled.
But Aegon?
He was different.
The Free Cities were watching him closely.
Would he become just another warlord, burning his way across the continent? Or would he become something greater?
Aegon was still lost in thought when the flap of his tent was pulled aside.
He turned to see a familiar face.
The Dothraki woman Lyessa.
Her long, dark hair, her bronze skin glowing in the torchlight.
But tonight, there was something different about her.
Aegon immediately noticed her expression serious, intense.
She stepped forward, her dark eyes searching his face.
Then she spoke.
"Khal," she said, her voice steady.
Aegon raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
She hesitated for a moment, then placed a hand on her stomach.
Aegon's eyes narrowed.
A moment passed.
Then he understood.
"You're pregnant," he said.
She nodded.
Silence filled the tent.
Aegon stared at her, his mind processing the news truthfully it wasn't surprising they had sex almost every day for the past year.
He was going to be a father for the first time in both of his lives.
He looked at the woman before him.
She did not appear afraid.
Dothraki women were not like Westerosi ladies they did not expect marriage or titles.
They lived in a world of war and survival.
And yet, she had chosen to come to him immediately.
"You are certain?" he asked.
She nodded.
Aegon's thoughts drifted.
A child. His blood.
Would the babe inherit his silver hair? Would it have his eyes? Would it carry the strength of his bloodline?
He felt something stir deep within him a strange sense of satisfaction.
A son or daughter born from him and Lyessa.
The first of many children he might have.
His bloodline had begun.
While Aegon processed the news, far beyond his camp, whispers of his rise were spreading.
Merchants, slavers, and spies traveled across Essos, speaking of the silver-haired warlord who had taken the Dothraki by storm.
In Volantis, Red Priests murmured about a new conqueror, debating whether he was blessed by R'hllor.
In Pentos, the Magisters spoke in hushed voices, wondering if they would soon have to deal with another threat from the east.
In Qohor and Norvos, mercenaries listened with interest, wondering if this rising warlord would be worth serving or fighting.
And in Westeros, beyond the Narrow Sea, the first fleeting rumors had begun to surface…
A Targaryen among the Dothraki.
Whether true or not, the world was beginning to take notice.
And Aegon?
He was just getting started.