According to Dothraki tradition.
Khal Drogo and Princess Daenerys's wedding was held in an open clearing on the grasslands outside the city of Pentos.
Daenerys was filled with fear.
The Dothraki actually believed that all major life events should be witnessed by the heavens, including weddings and consummations.
How could this be?
She was genuinely terrified.
Terrified of this wedding that had never asked for her opinion from beginning to end;
Terrified of the man sitting beside her, speaking in the rough language of a nomadic tribe she didn't understand, and he didn't even spare her a glance;
Terrified of everything she would be forced to endure in some open space after the sun set.
Confusion, fear, and the unknown enveloped her.
After all, she was just a thirteen-year-old girl.
This was not the wedding scene she had imagined.
Over forty thousand strangely behaved and barbaric "guests" were feasting and reveling below, surrounded by even more women, children, and slaves, and countless livestock, enclosing this temporarily erected open-air palace.
She looked out, and below the high platform were strange foreign men and women with bared chests, adorned with leather clothing, horsehair, and bronze, eating horse meat and drinking horse milk.
Everyone was overeating and drinking on the grass and soil, and conflicts and shoving matches broke out at the slightest disagreement.
Amidst the noise, she only felt lonely.
Although Khal Drogo sat on the main seat of the high platform, laughing and shouting, his attention was not on her, the bride close at hand, but on the bloodriders below.
No one spoke to her, as if she didn't exist.
She looked down at Illyrio and her brother sitting below, close enough to see her brother's increasingly unhappy expression, yet too far to say a word.
And Ser Jorah Mormont beside her brother, he seemed even more serious than usual.
Did he dislike this wedding too?
Drums rumbled, and women with bared chests in front of the high platform danced strange and wild dances for the Khal.
The bride quickly averted her gaze, trying her best to ignore the scene.
Another Dothraki man approached the dancers, then two, three, until two men grabbed the same woman.
Strange shouts came from the mouths of the two warriors.
In the blink of an eye, two arakhs emerged from their sheaths, and dazzling white light flashed with the movement of the blades.
This weapon had a curved blade like a sickle, and almost every Dothraki warrior carried one. She had seen countless of them in just half a day.
Now, she also witnessed its sharpness and danger.
After a few breaths of dazzling white light clashing, a blade arc sliced across one man's waist, and his spine and abdomen were immediately cut in half, almost broken in two at the waist.
The man immediately fell, his red and green intestines spilling onto the ground, covered in a thick layer of dust.
No one stopped this blood duel.
Magister Illyrio had warned her beforehand: "Any Dothraki wedding that doesn't result in at least three deaths is considered a failure."
She had a premonition that today's wedding would claim more than three lives.
Slaves carried away the bodies, and the other warriors' excitement remained undiminished. The victor casually pulled over a dancer and began to enjoy himself.
The wedding continued as usual.
An attendant slowly walked towards the high platform, carrying dishes.
Khal Drogo and the Princess were the first to choose food, followed by the Magister and Viserion.
Viserion's pride was hurt repeatedly as rounds of food were brought out. He didn't think Khal Drogo was of higher status than him, let alone his sister sitting above him.
"Your Majesty, please don't worry. This is just a courtesy to the wedding hosts. The Khal naturally understands how noble you are."
Elin said, presenting the dishes, while trying to persuade Viserion.
Elin didn't want the Beggar King's impulsive behavior to ruin this wedding. His plan still needed time.
Viserion immediately believed him, "Exactly, Drogo is sensible. I am the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms, of course he should understand hierarchy."
"Hmph! For my sister's wedding, I'll let him off this time."
Elin silently nodded in agreement, secretly glad that the Beggar King's voice wasn't loud enough, and that Khal Drogo didn't understand the common tongue of Westeros.
Unlike the Princess, Elin was very satisfied with today's wedding.
The chaotic layout of the grassland, the palace made of grass, the simple high platform, the various wedding rituals, and the guests who were allowed to carry swords and wander around. Death was not surprising.
Elin knew how to use the power here.
Drogo's khalasar was huge.
Forty thousand warriors and countless women, children, and slaves were all gathered on this grassland, making the consumption of supplies and management extremely difficult.
Drogo naturally couldn't handle all the affairs himself. He had lieutenants who managed the tribes for him. These men were "kos," responsible for commanding the "khas" under the khalasar.
With the Khal at the head and the various Kos as assistants, the power exerted by forty thousand warriors was enough to make Pentos tremble.
The Magisters of Pentos doubled the city guard because of this. But no one dared to guarantee how effective this would be.
As is well known, Pentos is the most vulnerable of the great Free Cities.
The peace treaty with the Braavosi stipulated that the people of Pentos could not possess more than 20 warships, could not hire mercenaries, contract with free companies, or maintain any military force beyond the city guard.
What good was a massive city wall alone?
Thanks to the Crown Prince's guidance. Elin decided to exploit this substantive inequality and contradiction between the Dothraki and Pentos.
The dishes had all been served.
Elin and Jorah Mormont exchanged glances and quietly departed.
Now it was Jorah's turn to worry.
In just a few days, Jorah felt he had expended more mental energy than in the past few years combined.
The Spider, Varys, had given him the task of lurking by the side of the Dragon House siblings and relaying information; he hadn't asked him to take any initiative.
A good deal, but the Spider probably won't live long. Jorah still believed more in the power of the throne.
Elin.
This attendant of the Crown Prince is much more troublesome. He was asked to act as a go-between, to kill people, and to be a bodyguard.
His gaze shifted to the Kos on the other side. Pono, Jhaqo, these two Kos actually didn't kill Elin directly. Does Drogo know?
Jorah touched the hilt of the sword at his waist. Hopefully, less blood will be shed today, and certainly not mine.
The setting sun gradually sank lower.
Khal Drogo stood up and clapped his hands, and all the drumming, shouting, and feasting revelry immediately ceased.
Drogo helped Daenerys up. The ceremony of presenting gifts to the bride began.
Viserion stepped forward with three maidservants.
Two were Dothraki with almond-shaped eyes, black hair, and brown skin, and one was a girl from Lys with golden hair and blue eyes.
"Good sister, these are no ordinary servants," Viserion said. "Illyrio and I carefully selected them for you. Irri will teach you to ride, Jhiqui will teach you Dothraki, and Doreah will teach you bedroom skills."
Viserion smiled faintly, "She is an expert in this area, Illyrio and I can both vouch for that."
Ser Jorah Mormont slowly approached, holding a long, thick scroll.
"Your Highness, I am truly ashamed, but being penniless, I could only afford this map of Westeros. I hope it can slightly ease your longing for your homeland."
Jorah untied the silk knot securing the scroll, "Allow me to unroll it for you to see."
Elin stood quietly behind Viserion.
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