AN: I don't know, I've been wanting to write a Game of Thrones Klaine fic for a while now, so I swept all my other WIPs to the dust to write this one. I'm sure I'm gonna take a lot of liberties with this one so I'll say it now… I've only read book one and two of ASOIAF (the reading of book three is in progress) but this story only follows so much of the first book before it branches off. I hope you don't mind!
Story Warnings: dub-con/non-con, possible mpreg, character death (not Kurt or Blaine) and infidelity.
Warnings for this chap: None.
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It had always been an abstract thought. Sebastian would pace the halls of Magister Burt's house while scheming about his plans to regain his rightful position in the throne as King of the Seven Kingdoms. If occasionally Seb would mention that he would sell Kurt, Kurt took no notice. His brother may have been completely obsessed with his notions of becoming King and he may have taken every moment of time to assure Kurt that he was just a pawn for his usage to ascend to the throne, but Kurt always thought it was just talk.
It still felt that way now, even as he was washing his too-pale body to Sebastian's liking, a tan handmaiden assisting him and telling him what she heard about the man Seb was selling him to. He was being sold. He was being sold to a Khal his handmaiden informed him as she massaged oils into his hair, her voice curling around the word as if it was something to be proud of, an accomplishment. And maybe it was, but Kurt had no idea of knowing. Seb had kept him in the dark about the goings-on of the world for as long as he could remember.
The haidmaiden, whose name was Enna if he wasn't mistaken, continued her excited chattering and Kurt picked up words like khalasar, bloodriders and comely but he'd be lying if he said he understood what she was saying. His mind was now focused on the sharp clacks of Seb's shoes against the wooden floor – he was coming this way. Enna made her excuses at the sound and left Kurt to finish washing off.
He was in the room not a minute later. He ordered Kurt to come out of the tub and Kurt only spared a moment's hesitation before complying. He had been on the receiving end of Seb's anger numerous times and was in no hurry to return. The smirk on Seb's face became cruel as he took him in, eyes making luxurious sweeps across Kurt's body and it was all Kurt could handle to do no more than shiver under the gaze and avert his eyes.
"Whore, look at me." Kurt did so reluctantly. He couldn't help but wonder why he even thought selling him was beyond Seb. His brother would do anything to become King.
He looked directly into Seb's eyes for what seemed like a decade, hands clenching at his sides, before Seb let out a snort of seeming amusement and gave a sharp nod.
"Come to me," he said and Kurt found himself in front of Seb in a matter of seconds.
A hand made its way down Kurt's back and very close to his ass while another gripped at his hips. Seb was looking intently down at him but Kurt did not move. He was being assessed, he could tell. A part of him vaguely wondered if he should upset Seb, if that would make him change his mind to selling him to a stranger, but that idea was shot down by the part of his brain that argued that Seb would just dispose of him otherwise.
"Why are you selling me?" He hadn't known he'd spoken until Seb's grip was tight around his cock and a ripple of pain made its way through his body. If Seb's other hand wasn't around his midsection he would have fallen. He didn't make a noise though – that would infuriate Seb more.
"Why are you questioning me?" Seb loosened his grip and tilted Kurt's head to look him in the eyes. "Why don't you trust your big brother to do what he thinks is best for you?" His tone was vitriolic.
His grip became painful and Kurt cried out, falling to his knees as Seb stepped back. The pain that erupted in his knees was just enough to distract him from the one in his groin.
"You're lucky the Khal expects you to look a certain way otherwise your pretty little face would have been my next target." By the way he was clenching his fists, Kurt knew Seb was outraged. People simply did not question his motives.
He bit his lip and waited.
It took a few minutes but he heard the sharp release of air that signified Seb had cooled down. He walked out of the room and returned with a pile of clothing.
"Get dressed, Whore," he said as he threw the clothing at Kurt – fine silk trousers and a silver tunic. "We're going to meet your Khal this evening."
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The Magister had called out a few of his servants to bring the horses around. Sebastian had found Burt when he and Kurt were both running away from the realm of the Seven Kingdoms and to the Free Cities to avoid persecution. Burt was the owner of the ship that carried them to Pentos and the man who offered his place of residence to them when Seb realized they had nowhere to go.
Seb took it for granted; claiming that everyone would rush to their knees to offer their homes to the future ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and that Burt was lucky he was 'chosen', but Kurt enjoyed every moment in Burt's company.
The man was a bit rough around the edges, so to speak, and a bit awkward with words, but he cared fiercely, and Kurt was frequently the object of his affection. When Seb gave him a bad day he'd often find Burt coming into his rooms to cheer him up. He dared not say that Burt felt like a father to him out loud for fear of it getting back to Seb, but he definitely did feel it.
That was why he could not help but feel a little betrayed when Burt sent them off without so much as a parting glance. The man who had looked out for him and watched him grow from a curious ten year old into a caring sixteen year old did not raise a hand to stop the proceedings. Admittedly, Seb was a formidable person to get on the bad side of, and while he could understand why Burt did nothing, it still hurt.
He stared at the horse in front of him. It was only his temporarily, one of the stable boys informed him, and would help him to become accustomed to Dothraki culture. Because the man he was being sold to was just that – a Dothraki. And seeing as the books he snuck a look at were likely to be accurate, the Dothraki believed in horse gods and horses were sacred creatures to them.
He tentatively reached a hard out to touch the horse's nose, flinching as it snorted, then gently stroked the muzzle.
"What's its name?" He asked one of the stable boys, who replied that it had no name. Kurt resolved to think of one at another time, for now content to stroke the beautiful creature. The horse rubbed its nose against his hand and Kurt decided that he liked it. The only problem now was riding it.
The stable boy ran over to him and boosted him onto the horse. When he felt comfortable, he cantered around for a bit, just to get used to the new feeling. He kicked the horse's side sharply and its speed increased, causing a bubble of laughter to escape Kurt's throat. It was an exhilarating feeling: letting his worries go to the winds, all thoughts of Seb or marriage trampled under the steady pounding of the horse's hooves. His hair flew into his face in all directions, and for once Kurt felt free of his brother's clutches. He wished he could run away from his obligations, but the thought of Seb hunting him down sobered him.
He slowed the horse into a gentle trot, just in time to see Seb come into view, walking with Burt.
"I give the Khal a husband and he gives me his army," he was saying, shutting up as he saw Kurt on the horse. He gave Burt a pointed look and the Magister nodded and walked away.
"The Magister has errands to run for me," Seb said by way of explanation, which was more than Kurt expected of him. "But we have places to be."
Seb got onto his horse and galloped off, leaving Kurt to gallop after him.
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They rode for an hour. Kurt's legs burned from the exertion that staying on a horse required. His hands ached from the grip of the horse's mane he kept and sweat dripped down his back making him feel clammy – hardly a good condition to meet one's betrothed in but maybe Seb should have considered that. He was relieved when one of the scouts who rode ahead announced that they had reached their destination. Giving the horse firm kicks to the sides with his feet, he slowed down.
Carefully, he lowered himself off the horse.
In front of him was a mass of people; some were dancing to drummed beats, others were feeding the ubiquitous horses, and he wasn't sure but he thought he could make out two people fucking on the dirt. Savages. The word came back to him abruptly. These people had different customs, a completely different way of being. He was suddenly struck with the fear that he'd be taken in that manner in front of the eyes of thousands.
Seb's voice kicked him out of his thoughts. His brother had been strangely silent so far, which surprised Kurt, but he amounted it to Seb feeling out of his element.
"The Khal will be over here soon. Don't fuck this up, Whore. I need his army to destroy that of the Usurper King's. Fail and you're sure to awaken the Dragon."
Kurt was tempted to tell him exactly how little he cared about Seb's hunger for power but the day's earlier punishment still rang clear in his mind. He would appease the Horse Lord until Seb had his wish, and then he was escaping, however possible.
"Look." Sebastian became rigid beside him.
Kurt lifted his head just in time to see a man on what looked like a stallion – black, about 18-hands high, a good 3 hands higher than the others – tailed by three other men on shorter horses. The man on the black stallion was tanned. His bare torso bore red marks that twisted over his chest and onto his back. His black hair curled onto his forehead, stopping just above his eyes, which were looking at Kurt in interest. He sat proudly on his horse – a stature borne from years of confidence and control, something that Seb lacked.
The other riders formed a sort-of protective semi-circle around the first, who was presumably the Khal. The Khal he was going to marry. Kurt swallowed.
A maiden walked up from behind the horsemen. She looked up to the Khal expectantly, and the Khal barked out something in his language. It hadn't yet hit Kurt that they did not speak the same language.
The Khal stopped talking and the maiden paused for a while, coming up with the words, before addressing them.
"Kurt I Targaryen and Sebastian I Targaryen, welcome."
The Khal climbed off his horse and took a few steps toward them. His eyes were only for Kurt, dark and travelling down his body. Kurt felt a shiver in response, and a pulse of attraction.
Mayhap this will be better than I thought.
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Ok it's sort of an awful place to end but I just didn't want Kurt and Blaine to interact in this chapter. Next chapter may have smut. Oh who am I kidding, it probably won't.