Authors note: I own nothing but Seraph in this story. Please don't sue me, I really have no money. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ AND REVIEW I update more when I know people like my stories and tell me so. This story is rated M for smuttyness and language, you've been warned.


Seraph was the only woman other than Dany to have ever captivated Khal Drogo's attention long enough for him to care whether she was enjoying sex or not. As Khal, he had the luxury of being able to pick and choose whichever woman he wanted. He generally adored fair skin and light hair.. He figured it was something about innocence, that if the sun hadn't tainted them, then no other man had either.

Seraph was the nobleman's daughter of house Coultier on Essos. They had escaped the rule of the Mad King when Seraph's mother was pregnant with her and decided to make a home for themselves in the last patch of fertile land for miles. Unfortunately, this kept them very close to the Dothraki and they, along with their towns people had to make frequent sacrifices to prevent from being raided nearly weekly.

Lord Coultier had enough, Once a month the Dothraki death riders would ride to their small village, demanding payment to keep them safe. It was a long discussion with Seraph, barely 18 at the time, to offer herself as a personal slave of the Khal in exchange to never be bothered by Drogo for payment again.

Seraph had heard stories of how the Khal had never lost a fight and that his hair would rival hers in length. Her hair was sandy blonde and went down past her thighs. She had wavy hair and big blue eyes, which the death riders knew would please the Khal. If Drogo had a type, Seraph was definitely it, with a curvacious figure and beautiful plump lips, just begging to be taken.
She had never seen the Khal before she was thrown at his feet, her dress had been torn and her hair had been ripped from it's tie.

She was too afraid to look at the brute, but one of his men grabbed the back of her hair and made her look up at him. The Khal looked her up and down, then grunted and waved a hand for them to take her away.

Seraph hoped that she was to his liking because she cared more for the town than her well being. She knew that if she didn't pass his test, her village would be sacked in a few hours.
She was taken to the nearby river, stripped of her dress and forced to bathe. When she came out of the river, maidens helped her dress in the traditional slave clothing, a blue halter top and skirt. They also helped braid her long hair.

When they were finished they took her to the feast, and she watched as Khal Drogo watched over his people while eating his meal. When the horse meat was shoved in front of her she nearly gagged but another of the slave girls told her in common tongue that if she didn't eat the horse, she wouldn't eat at all.

Dinner was hard to choke down but at least he was feeding her, at least he wasn't torturing her she thought. Night time came almost too quickly and she was delivered into the Khal's bedroom.

"Do you speak Dothraki?" He asked, sipping wine from a chalice as he sat at the end of his bed.

"Not very much or well." She quickly responded, bending her knee to bow to her Khal.

"Get up, there will be plenty of time for that later." He commanded. He stood, placed his chalice on a wooden table next to his bed and circled her, staring at her like a piece of meat.

He began lifting pieces of cloth and inspecting her, noticing every freckle, every hair.

"Your village will be left alone." He stated before hiking up her skirt and grabbing her roughly from behind.

"Thank you." was all she could squeak out before he bent her over and slammed into her. He used her hair for leverage, pushing and pulling her against him. All she could do is whimper beneath him. She'd only had one other before him and he was way gentler with her. He is Khal though, she should be grateful that he's deemed her present enough not to rampage her village.

Drogo couldn't let Seraph know how smitten he was with her beauty, that he had only taken her from behind because he could easily find himself in love with her. He wasn't ready for marriage quite yet, and even if he was, he could not imagine his tribe being okay with him marrying such a fair woman.

He didn't last very long, taking what he wanted from her and once he spilled inside her just dismounted. Her legs quivered and her thighs were sticky, but she did not cry a single tear. She straightened herself, pulled her skirt down.

"Have I pleased my Khal?" She managed to look up at the huge man before her, inwardly thanking her
father for teaching her a little Dothraki. Drogo nodded and grunted.

"Return to your tent, I'm finished for the evening."

Things continued much in the same fashion for the next two weeks, but Drogo felt there was something missing. There was something too carnal in using such a beautiful woman in such a violent way. One evening when he called upon her, he decided to have her lay before him facing him instead of fucking her from behind.