With cautious interest

He frowned at the older man, his mind trying to consider all the angles. What would the old savage have to gain from this by deceiving him? Perhaps he had one of his women play at being his daughter to keep Jon quiet in his captivity while their khalasar waited for a ransom? It was possible, but there was a defiant glint in the way the young woman looked at him, a harshness in the way she spoke to the Khal that would surely have been beaten or fucked out of her if she was a simple bed ****.

Jon turned to the translator, “What’s this all about?”

The young woman bit her lip and then turned back to the Khal to convey his question. There was a grunt, a sigh, and then the old man looked at Jon and began to speak in a softer tone which was at odds with the roughness of the tongue he spoke. Jon could see that the aggression had left the old warrior’s shoulders, that he was showing clear vulnerability as he spoke.

“The Khal say...he no strong,” the **** translated for him, speaking softly to the side, “he...old...sick. Khal have no sons...the Khalasar...it break maybe without a strong Khal,” she looked hesitant to speak the next part, “The others...weak...weak minds. You strong...strong like dragon, great warrior. You...marry Khal’s child, you fight weak men...Khalasar stay strong, stay...together ...when Khal dies.”

While Jon’s mind was suspicious, it occurred to him that the people before him were not the scheming and plotting courtiers he has grown up with at king’s landing, nor were they the smiling and sneering backstabbers of Essos. The Dothraki held a simple existence and in such a world, there was no need for such deception. Strength and the will to use it decided everything. The offer before Jon was genuine.

After a moment, Jon presses his mouth into a thin line. He looked at the Khal’s daughter, whose name he did not even know and yet who he was expected to marry. She watched him without fear or hesitation, her body was relaxed, she recalled to Jon a tiger he had once seen; powerful and at ease.

Jon turned to the **** again, “and the Khal’s daughter, she’s fine with this arrangement?”

There was a translation, and then the other woman laughed. She spoke a collection of words utterly foreign, but Jon could not help but detect a certain within them that was instinctual. The **** blushed and said, “She think you might...be good...husband,” she pressed her lips, “she say...if you weak, or you...cruel...she kill you herself.”

He could not stop the smile that danced across his face then. “Very well,” he released a breath, weighing his options. “I doubt I have much a choice in any case...but the possibility of life compared to certain ****? Tell the Khal I will accept his offer.”