Disclaimer: I still own nothing. This is getting redundant. This chapter contains sex, some foul language, and disturbing imagery due to POV changes- that's right, this chapter does not once visit Anna's POV, which is why I'm even bothering to mention the language and stuff in the first place. Also... I generally don't do tags like this- or warning in general aside from the standard M fare- but, given how many reviews I've received regarding killing Hans and not killing Elsa (which, yeah, I get that, but y'all do remember that it was Khal Drogo who died, right?), I figure it's only fair to warn you guys: Major Character Death.

Elsa spent many years as the most feared and revered Khaleesi to ever roam the Dothraki Sea. Although the learning curve was steep, she'd triumphed in many battles, killed many men, met many more, made many changes, and forged her life as a blade on a blacksmith's anvil, each hit making her a stronger, deadlier weapon, capable of cutting her own path through the many dangers that often lumbered in front of her. As such, she was well versed in many things, and it helped that all these many experiences shared common threads; that made things much easier to deal with when the next battle would likely be much like the last, regardless how brief the respite might be between the two. Yes, the Jesh Khaleesi was very familiar with the bloody repetition of her life but relished it, because what differences appeared were hers to choose... most of the time. Except when it came to surprise firsts.

A silent, brooding Anna was definitely a surprise first and the blonde found herself at a loss for what to do.

It was something that had built since the redhead's first battle and hit a peak a week and a half ago- eleven days, to be precise. It was something she was highly aware of despite being unable to formulate an appropriate strategy to approach the situation. This wasn't a show-of-power battle against another khalasar, one where she would simply allow her warriors to wound their enemies before defeating their Khal in single combat, removing his braid herself before sending the lot of them away. This also wasn't a rivalry, one where she would destroy her enemies utterly to put an end to their despicable insults- she would never forgive the animal she'd put down during that fateful battle.

That cretin. The memory still made her jaw clench. While she'd found Anna's recount of the battle a bit amusing, Elsa hadn't confided in her wife what else the Khal had said while the redhead wasn't around to hear him. Specifically, the portions about what he would do to Anna if he won the battle. Elsa typically didn't enjoy killing her enemies- it was a necessity and she was nothing if not a pragmatic leader- but drawing out his agony had been an absolute pleasure. She'd even let him draw a bit of blood, allowing him a brief glimmer of victory, before ruthlessly ending him. The wound would serve to remind her of what could happen if she ever became too lax, too complacent- what could happen to Anna if she ever failed to protect her wife.

She lightly traced over the healed wound, glancing to her side. As usual during meals, Anna sat beside her, but the redhead was quietly contemplating her horsemeat rather than eating and chatting with the knight on the other side of her, as she normally would. That imbecile she called brother was on the knight's other side, still sulking from his wounded pride and rubbing at the long healed knot on his head. Truthfully, she was still surprised Anna hadn't let her kill the moron; it certainly wouldn't be a dangerous feat by any means.

Frost coated the edge of the table at the thought and she quickly willed it away.

There was nothing to link the two aside from their supposed blood bond. From the moment she met them in Pentos, the two were like night and day, sharing so little in common it was an utter wonder any could believe their familial relation. Where Anna was warmth and light, her emotions playing across her face, her expressions telling volumes to any who would take the time to look, Hans was a dark shadow, trying pitifully to conceal his true intentions behind soft words laced with venom. Anna had a warrior's heart and the courage to pursue her aspirations; Hans had the heart of a snake, slithering where he had the best chances to survive. But that's all he would do, all he could manage: surviving. Anna was meant to soar above any expectations and Elsa couldn't wait to bear witness to it, no matter how it might pain her.

And there she was again, her focus drifting like a snowflake in the wind. With Anna's odd behavior also came Elsa's inability to remained focused on something for too long. Part of it was because her mind was constantly occupied with keeping her ice in check, something that always required her attention but, usually, was a relatively minor thing. The past eleven days, however, the task became an ever growing difficulty, almost distracting her from her day-to-day duties.

The reason was obvious: she was scared. Her magic always responded to her emotions, becoming more unruly when she was afraid or distressed, and Anna's unsettling silence provoked both reactions. She couldn't understand why the redhead was suddenly retreating from her- originally, she attributed her wife's brooding to her standing order that the redhead not train or fight. They had two small skirmishes while Anna was recovering- outriders coming too close, prompting a direct response from the blonde- but she'd specifically put the Khal in charge during those brief encounters and all of her kos had followed Anna's orders as if their Khaleesi was the one issuing them. They'd even praised the redhead's decision-making!

So, while it didn't make sense for Anna to be upset about her restrictions, Elsa had changed her order to a simple request that the redhead take extra care instead. She thought the return to training might help her wife regain her spirited self within a week. Instead, the redhead seemed to become quieter, so the blonde deliberately changed the khalasar's course to skirt a path frequented by other khalasars. She eagerly invited Anna along with her when the predictable skirmishes ensued and it had worked to lift her wife's spirits... for a time.

Once the fighting was over, though, and the initial celebrations finished, Anna seemed to retreat into her head again. The redhead didn't even seem too enthused about the new bells she'd won, though Elsa did her best to praise her victories and not outshine those accomplishments. She went as far as removing some of her own bells- Chafka thought she was being ridiculous- and kissing her beloved Khal in front of the other warriors- something Vorsaka would not stop teasing her about- but the brief smile she received in response did little to either improve Anna's mood or asuage Elsa's fears.

The blonde was nearly at her wit's end, unsure if there was anything she could do to assist her wife, who wasn't very forthcoming with what weighed on her mind so heavily. Elsa wasn't even sure of the cause; had she been the one to upset Anna? What had she done? Could she fix it? How?

Why wouldn't her feisty wife just tell her? Anna had never shied away from saying what was on her mind, not after their wedding night!

Elsa sighed as her heart fluttered, recalling the night vividly. She hadn't expected to fall in love with the redhead so deeply and so completely, especially not as quickly as she did. It seemed a simple enough plan: let the woman choose her own fate. Play no larger part than what was required of her. Anna was beautiful and headstrong and so alive when they met, fire sparking in those teal depths, it was a crime to confine her to a fate she did not desire. At first, she'd admired the redhead's unwaivering gaze, the conviction to stand and face whatever the barbarian would decide- and Elsa had no doubts that the woman had seen her as nothing more than that upon their first meeting. During their wedding ceremony, the redhead had watched the ruthless culture unfold before her with positivity, enjoying the music and doing her best to accept the less pleasant facets, and that earned Elsa's respect, especially juxtaposed with Hans' less than glowing commentary regarding the spectacle. It took effort not to smile at Anna's nervousness as the ceremony wore on, some part of her amused at this young woman's stark honesty and blatant difficulty acclimating to the new culture she was plunged into so abruptly, but the redhead was remarkable in her ability to adapt, recognizing every misstep and prepared to deal with the fallout.

By the time they got to the bedding, Elsa could admit to herself that she had a distinct fondness for this strange woman, this chained, majestic dragon. It wasn't until she heard the whispered confession of fear that the feeling turned to something deeper, something that would attach itself to her in ways she hadn't anticipated. To see the vulnerability hiding just behind such strength and the courage required to face that fear; it endeared Anna to her in a way she couldn't have planned for and it almost hurt to turn away and give this woman her freedom. Surely, she'd become too much of a horselord herself, forgetting the gentler ways of her former people, because for a moment- for a very brief moment- she thought she would keep the redhead to herself, just as any Khal would. Eventually, Anna would come to accept it just as other women had before her.

That wasn't her way, though, and Elsa had quashed the thought quickly, resolute in her plan, offering the woman her freedom. She anticipated the reluctance, the fear of the unknown- she truly was all too familiar with the sensation- but hearing the raw emotion come from Anna had nearly hurt too much. Here was this beautiful woman, full of passion and life and so much Elsa couldn't even name, and the blonde wouldn't lift a finger to keep her at her side. She was selfish, though, and she wanted to share something with this woman, something special, something that would cement this night forever in her heart. What were the chances Elsa would meet another woman like this? One who could endear herself within mere hours?

So, she shared her story with Anna. It would pass time and it was... something she'd likely never do again. It was a show of vulnerability. How long had it been since she'd last allowed such? It was impossible to say.

But Anna continued to surprise and impress. Her simple confirmation of their marriage evoked a flurry of tumultuous emotions she refused to properly address. It was too much to hope that the redhead could return the strange feelings stirring in Elsa's chest, so she dared not allow it to fester. Restraining her expectations took effort- so much effort- but she did admirable, she thought. When her wife pushed the issue of consumating their marriage, however, she caved too easily to the redhead's desires, something that was happening with greater frequency... and disasterous results.

Taking a deep breath, the Khaleesi willed away the frost she could feel creeping out again.

Eleven days ago convinced her that whatever was upsetting her beloved had at least something to do with her. When they'd settled into camp that night, Anna had specifically requested that Elsa not assist her with bathing, as the blonde had taken to doing most nights. She was deeply perturbed but complied, of course; she'd never willingly make her wife uncomfortable, so the redhead bathed alone that night... and every night since, at her request. And that was fine, really, Elsa could live with that.

But the bigger blow- the part that cut deeper than any of her enemies had ever managed- was when they decided to turn in for the night. Not only did her wife deny her touch, she slept on the other side of the hut.

That was like an arakh embedding in her heart. The last time she'd felt so devastated was... well, the loss of her family, and while that pain was still worse, it didn't make Anna's rejections hurt any less.

Yet... she could see it in those ever expressive eyes- there was a battle raging inside, something her wife felt she needed to triumph over in her own way. She didn't want Elsa's help, so the blonde was left to simply wait it out. That's what her heart hoped for, at least, that the redhead was just working through something personal that she wanted to deal with alone and not actually a prelude to... something far worse.

Was she being foolishly optimistic? Was she hopelessly blinded by love?

Elsa raised her gaze to meet the concerned look on the knight's face. His expression said it all; she wasn't alone in noticing the Khal's odd behavior. Discreetly, he shrugged one shoulder, apparently as clueless as she was regarding the matter.

Her lips drew into a tight frown. This couldn't go on, not like this, she couldn't handle it; she wouldn't force Anna to divulge the information or to, well, do anything she didn't desire, but she was going to try to find out what she could do to fix it. She needed to take action; simply waiting was too painful. If her wife... no longer desired to hold that title... it would be better to learn that now and not in Vaes Dothrak. Better to nurse the injury while facing the dosh khaleen than have it freshly inflicted.

"Anna-" She tried to keep her voice soft but felt it die in her throat when the redhead suddenly reached out, gently pulling on her right arm until their hands were entertwined on the table top. "A-anna?"

"Elsa, please," her wife said in Valyrian, and instantly Elsa bristled, her fear skyrocketing as she put every fiber of her being not focused on Anna's voice into keeping her magic from spilling out and coating the whole room in ice. Considering her brother was, literally, two seats down and they agreed to only speak Dothraki in front of him when conversing with each other, she could reasonably consider this not good. "I want to speak with you seriously."

This was bad.

"About what?" Her throat was almost closed completely from the terror shooting through her but she managed to sound calm, collected, and gentle. As paralyzed as she was, Elsa could see the fire burning brighter; the dragon within her wife was awake and thrashing but remaining dignified, despite her desire to roar.

"About our blood oath," Anna replied and suddenly her blood was cold, like true ice in her veins, a pain in her chest the only other thing she could feel. "I want to revoke it." Elsa leaned back slightly, stunned- no, she was on the verge of breaking. She wanted to run from this, because she only ever dealt with her problems in two ways: running from it or killing it, and she could never harm the redhead. Before she could retreat, however, the familiar heat of Anna's hand gently cupping her cheek kept her still, the second instance of contact her love had initiated in eleven days. To do even better, her other hand was turned so her wife could place a soft kiss on her knuckles. "When we made the oath, I agreed to be your companion until you won me my father's throne. I don't want that anymore."

"I-" The words caught in her throat, pain stabbing deeper than any blade ever could. Her tenuous control over her ice was slipping, frost covering the table in front of her. Anna ran her thumb over the blonde's lips, as if asking her to just listen, and she acquieced with a gentle kiss to the digit, unable to form any words.

"Elsa, my Queen, I don't want the throne anymore. I want you. If the only way for me to remain by your side as your wife- as yours, completely- is to never take the seat of my family, then that is the choice I make. I do want to end the war tearing the Seven Kingdoms apart... but that place is no longer my home and I don't wish to stay and rule. Where you are, that is where I belong. I want the oath revoked because I don't want to leave you, ever."

"Anna..." Tears pricked at her eyes and she tried to hold them back only briefly before they fell, her magic quelling quickly. "You could've worded that better, you know."

"I'm not finished." Elsa raised a brow, still too relieved to be alarmed at what else might come with this declaration. Anna wanted to stay with her; was it possible for there to be a downside? "I want to make a new oath."

"And what will this one be?" She couldn't help but narrow her eyes in suspicion, ever so slightly.

"That I am yours, completely. That I will stay by your side, until my death. That my life is tied to yours." The redhead took a deep breath. "All I ask in return is this. The Stallion who Mounts the World will be born of your blood, Elsa. I want him born of mine, too."

Her jaw fell slack. Her eyes widened. Her heart stuttered.

This confirmed what she thought: definitely not a downside.

"You... want to bear my child."

Anna nodded without hesitation and that was all she needed. The blonde pulled her wife closer, kissing her as she moved, unable to resist. Her tongue was readily admitted to the redhead's awaiting mouth as she began running her hands across skin she hadn't been allowed to touch in far too long. Some part of her was saying she shouldn't be so rough, so demanding, but she couldn't summon the self restraint to be gentle at that moment.

When she'd originally thought up the idea to keep herself from being gifted to some brute of a man, Elsa had never actually expected to use it for its intended purpose. That didn't mean she hadn't entertained the idea from time-to-time, especially on lonely nights listening to others seek their pleasure. Now, though, it was a tangible reality and the denial of the past eleven days was overpowering. She needed to feel the redhead's skin against hers, she craved her touch, and she had little reason to abstain for one more moment. She'd nearly dissolved Anna's ice vest when hands pressing against her chest coaxed her into tempering the desire coursing through her veins.

When she gathered her wits to pull back and look at her wife in confusion, the redhead smirked in response.

"This is too important to do here."

It suddenly occured to Elsa that they were still in the dining tent, sitting between the knight and her bloodriders, both parties politely and pointedly ignoring what was happening between them. If it wasn't for the fact her heart was already pounding, she was certain her cheeks would be flushed from embarrassment; she'd lost control completely, forgetting their audience- which really didn't bother her nearly as much as, she assumed, it bothered Anna. The blonde frowned at her own lack of restraint, mind racing. "Of course. Our tent-"

"Is not under the open sky," the redhead said calmly. "All things of importance in a person's life take place under the open sky."

Patience was, typically, one of Elsa's virtues. At the moment, though, it was a struggle to remember what that word even meant. "We're not close enough to Vaes Dothrak, Dragon; it's not safe to wander-"

"Oh, we won't go far." Anna glanced at the entrance to the tent. "Just right there will be fine."

For a moment, the blonde's body came to a grinding halt as the implication registered and sank in slowly, and then everything was in overdrive. The need and desire from before was back tenfold and she'd never wanted anything more in her life. By some miracle, however, she remembered that her beloved, beautiful, fierce wife was not Dothraki- she was a woman of the Seven Kingdoms and raised as such, though severely removed from the homeland she no longer claimed. "It's very public."

"Let them see." She smiled, voice lowering and sending shocks down Elsa's back with every word. Then she was stroking along the blonde's jaw, touch light but roughened by developing calluses from riding and fighting. As if her wife wasn't driving her mad with want already. "Let them see that I am yours, completely." Elsa's breathing was shallow and her vision unfocused as the redhead leaned forward, whispering into her ear. "Let the whole world watch as I ride you all night long. Elsa, my love, I want you, now."

What little restraint remained to her disappeared and the blonde jammed her left hand against the ground, sending ice spikes thrusting up from beneath their side of the table to remove the obstacle. The force easily tossed the offending object away, causing shouts of surprise from Hans and Ser Kristoff, not that Elsa was particularly aware of their apparent concern. The rest of the tent went silent to observe, having watched the Khaleesi grow during her teen years and more than acquainted with her occassional outbursts.

They'd never seen it in quite this context, though.

Elsa was on her feet in a blur of movement, helping Anna up a bit more roughly than she probably should've but far too intent on reaching the entrance to take the gentler route. It took the redhead a few steps to gather her balance but no complaints were voiced, the two rather focused on leaving the feasting tent as quickly as possible. The moment they passed through that threshold, the blonde was very intent on catching up on lost time with her beloved Zhavorsa, pulling the redhead's body against hers and claiming her lips in a bruising kiss.

The rest of the world didn't matter.

Hans clenched his jaw, wiping the stupid Dothraki concoction of mare's milk from his tunic as he watched the horse bitch leave the tent, dragging his useless sister behind her. "What is that barbarian up to now?"

"Peace, Your Highness," Ser Kristoff said, rough voice vaguely amused by the turn of events as he picked a chunk of horse meat from his lap, brushing it off lightly before tearing into it. Sometimes, the knight's manners were simply appauling. "The Dothraki are... not known for their patience in many things."

Rolling his eyes, the crowned Prince glanced up and noted the disgusting display just before the pair disappeared from sight, lips curling into a sneer. "Is she fucking my whore of a sister again?" Sometimes, he truly wished to reveal the true emotions behind his words, but he was smarter than that. These animals may be utterly stupid but even a dog could understand the tone of voice a man used. "These mongrels aren't the only ones not known for their patience. She's fucked the girl like a damn dog in heat while I've yet to see even a shred of evidence my investment will pay off!"

It made his stomach pitch violently at the thought. At first, Hans hadn't minded so much the fringe benefits of traveling with the barbarians, being able to satisfy his own desires on a whim with the breeding stock available, but ever since that ridiculous, pathetic excuse for a battle, none of the women would allow him to approach. The copper skinned warriors even started growling menacingly at him in their foreign tongue, creating a barrier between him and the horde's whores. This, of course, made him highly aware of the sounds of pleasure emanating from elsewhere in the encampment and every affectionate exchange between the horse bitch and his sister. It boggled his mind how daft the girl had to be to give her body over to the blonde and be happy about it. Had the khaleesi done anything to assure him she would uphold her end of the deal, Hans might've been grateful for his sister's malleability. As it was, it just angered him further.

"Your Highness-" The knight tried placating him, as usual.

But he'd had enough.

"No, I'm sick of this." He growled, allowing his fury to color his voice. Hans got up, straightening out his tunic and fingering the hilt of his blade. "I'm going to explain to that horse fucker exactly how this is going to work from now on." He grinned. "If she'd so desperate for my sister's body, she's going to pay the price for her addiction."

Squaring his shoulders, Hans proceeded towards the entrance of the tent, ignoring Ser Kristoff's warnings. He wasn't about to let a woman dictate how and when he was to reclaim that which was rightfully his. In fact, he had half a mind to take his sister himself and make the horse bitch watch, just to prove the point.

Anna was his property and she would serve her intended purpose or he'd find another horselord to sell her to, damaged goods or not.

Elsa reluctantly broke the passionate kiss, panting heavily as she stared deep into Anna's eyes. The raw surge of emotion coursing through her was intense, almost frightening but in a strangely liberating way. This was something she'd never allowed herself to consider, too far beyond the realm of possibility, and yet becoming reality before her very eyes.

"Are you sure?" It was a stupid question, she could see it in the redhead's expression, but she couldn't help herself. She needed it.

"More sure than I've ever been," Anna replied, voice husky as she traced the muscles of the blonde's stomach, up to her breasts, holding their weight in her hands. "Now, get on your back."

She blinked, surprised and confused at the command. And it was a command, not a request, something glinting in her wife's eyes that sparked a warmth in her heart and her loins; this was the dragon truly coming out. There was a brief moment of alarm that surged through her, realizing the consequences of what Anna wanted her to do. Submit to the redhead. Allow herself to be dominated. Relinquish that power. For any and all to see.

Oh, who was she kidding? The entire khalasar already knew, just as she did: she was Anna's. Completely.

Suddenly, Anna's hands were on her shoulders, brushing away her vest and gently pushing her down.

"On your back, Elsa." The command was firmer this time and she didn't dare hesitate. Falling onto her rump, the blonde leaned back until she was on the ground as directed. She watched with rising anticipation as Anna swung a leg over her prone form, standing above her and watching with hooded eyes, her hair somehow glowing like a flame in the moonlight. When she dropped down to her knees, Elsa's breath hitched, hands instantly finding purchase on muscled thighs, willing away Anna's breeches. With every stroke of her fingers, the icy rainment fell away to reveal smooth skin she ached to learn again. But her gaze remained trained on the redhead's, swallowing thickly as her wife leaned over her, hands placed on either side of Elsa's head to assist in supporting her weight. She was drawing closer but slowly, teasing the blonde, and it took everything for her to not to reach up to meet the redhead.

She'd given over control; it was Anna's night, her decision, her claim to make.

Want pulsed through her as she felt the redhead's breath ghosting over her face. So close, so very close.

"You're mine, Elsa."

"Yours," she replied, squeezing Anna's thighs. "And you're mine, Anna."

The redhead smiled, the lust clearing from her eyes for a moment to let the adoration shine through. "Always. Forever."

She closed her eyes and lifted her head up just enough to meet her wife's lips, oh so ready to reconnect with this amazing woman intimately. The anticipation was-

Elsa's eyes snapped open when, instead of feeling warm lips against hers, she heard an agonized scream as Hans fisted his hand in one of Anna's braids and jerked her away, ripping her from atop the blonde. Scrambling to her feet, the Khaleesi didn't bother with her arakh, stalking towards the man with murder glinting in her eyes. Just inside the opening of the tent, she could see her bloodriders waiting for her word, but a vicious look kept them rooted in place.

Hans was hers to punish.

"Whore, translate for the horse bitch." Hans spat, holding his sword out as if he actually intended to run the blonde through with it. "Tell her that I- oof!"

With a growl, Anna brought her elbow sharply into her brother's gut, earning another tug on her hair. The distraction, however, gave Elsa the opportunity to dart in close and clamp her hands onto his wrists, pouring all her strength into crushing his bones.

"Let go of me!" He whined, trying very hard to sound at least like a man but coming out more line a dying cat. "Let go!"

"Release her." Elsa's voice was eerily calm and even, though the edge to it held a deadly promise and she belatedly realized she'd used Dothraki, which the dim witted moron in her grasp didn't speak or understand. Luckily, Ser Kristoff was close by, shouting the translation from behind her bloodriders. They certainly weren't about to let the metal man get too close to their Khaleesi, not in her current mood. Surprisingly, the idiot was at least coherent enough to obey, releasing Anna's hair and his sword, knees wobbling as he crumpled from the pain. While the redhead rolled away to put some distance between herself and her brother, the sword fell with a muted thud into the dirt and grass, leaving Hans at her mercy.

Unfortunately for him, she had none to spare at the moment.

Her expression was a stoic mask that struck more fear into Hans than if she'd allowed her anger to show, drawing strength from her fury and tightening her hold on his wrists, bringing him to his knees. The blonde was going to relish taking this deplorable excuse for a man to the highest point of misery before snuffing out the remainder of his pathetic life. Hans had never experienced the pain she was about to inflict upon him and, oh, was she going remember this. By the end, she'd have made an example for any who dared put their undeserving hands on her Zhavorsa.

"Elsa." A part of her wanted to ignore the firm tone coming from the redhead behind her but it wasn't strong enough, lips pressing into a thin line as she looked over her shoulder. Although one of her braids was slightly mussed from her brother's hold, Anna's eyes glinted hard as steel as she spoke in Dothraki. "Beat him to your heart's content... but don't kill him."

Narrowing her eyes, Elsa turned the words over in her head. Another order, a challenge that clearly didn't fit with what she had in mind, and something about the way Anna was standing conveyed her willingness to intervene if needed.

"He will never learn his place," she said, her frustration coloring her tone, unable to keep her emotions in check. What good Anna saw in preserving the life of this insect was beyond her comprehension. "Keeping him alive does nothing but give him another opportunity to hurt you."

The redhead frowned, shoulders falling slightly as her gaze softened. "Don't kill him."

Still firm but with a gentler undertone. Elsa took a deep, calming breath.

Hans tried jerking free and the blonde lost her patience with him, releasing his sword arm entirely and focusing on the one that he dared use to harm Anna. With a quick strike, she felt the sickening crunch of broken bone, her fist landing solidly against Hans' forearm while her other hand twisted the appendage for good measure. He let loose a pain-filled howl that she quickly silenced by grabbing his throat with one hand, digging her fingernails into his skin until she drew blood. His good hand scrabbled at hers, trying to break her hold and failing miserably as his face started turning white from lack of blood and air. It was oh so tempting to snap his neck but Anna's words rang in her mind, so she released him, letting him roll on the ground like the dog he was and turning her gaze sharply to her bloodriders.

"He will not interfere again. See to it." She paused. "But don't kill him."

There was no hesitation in the men she called her brothers, stepping out as one unit to loom over the crying, pathetic 'Prince' while Elsa stalked closer to Anna. She was still furious but there was no course of action open to her that wouldn't lead to Hans' death aside from leaving it in her bloodriders. Whatever else happened to Hans was in his hands; she had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

She stopped a few steps away from the redhead, watching her, trying to gauge what was going through her wife's head. There was a moment of them just staring at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Unsurprisingly, it was Elsa who caved. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. A little sore, but fine." She rubbed at her head, stopping when the blonde moved closer and threaded her hands through her crimson strands as gently as she could. "Thank you."

Words escaped her in that moment, too many conflicting emotions surging through her, so she wrapped her arms around her wife, holding her loosely and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. Why couldn't Anna see that she was just trying to protect her? That her miserable brother wasn't worth her attention, her energy? At the same time, she couldn't find it in her to raise her voice in challenge, not after she'd so willingly submitted earlier, not with the desire to submit running so strong in her still.

"Elsa, I didn't mean to... I'm sorry." Anna pressed her lips to the blonde's throat. "It's not my place to tell you what to do."

Her hold tightened on the redhead. "Maybe it is... in some things." Elsa closed her eyes, pressing her lips to her wife's ear. "You are my King."

"And you, my Queen."

Fire scorched through her as Anna's hands traced along her arms and down her back, prompting her vest to fall away completely. The want was overpowering, washing away her reason- it was very likely her wife wasn't inclined to pick up where they left off.

She groaned, trying to pull away and regain her composure. She needed time to process and temper her arousal, time away from the redhead. "We can discuss it later."

Anna refused to let her go, however, and pressed a series of kisses to her throat, dragging her teeth where Elsa's pulse pounded strongest, making her weak. "Then on your back, my love."

Anna was full of surprises tonight.

Not that Elsa was of a mind to complain.

She sank to the ground, desire flooding her system once more but tinged by her residual anger. When her wife mounted her, she couldn't feel the same gentleness and submissive inclination from before, sitting up slightly to reach her love's lips, impatient for the promise of the night. Their kiss was fire and ice meeting, bodies melting together, Elsa putting up resistance to Anna's advances and forcing the redhead to exert her strength. The months since their marriage had transformed her wife's body from that of a wispy, sheltered girl to a powerful warrior and the woman had no trouble matching her, leveraging against her. It was thrilling for Anna to push her back and loom over her, hips grinding into hers in a way that teased and excited.

Their private moment was once again interrupted by that despicable moron. Elsa growled out a warning as she spared his direction a glance, noting her bloodriders had sent Hans to the ground again with a solid strike on his jaw. He was still moaning like a child, though- so alive, which was all Anna asked of her.

Elsa was pulled from her sour thoughts by a hand pressing against her crotch. "Focus, my Queen. Something's missing."

She groaned when Anna squeezed lightly, quickly moving her hand under the redhead's to start working her magic. In the background- beneath her pounding heart and panting breath- she could hear Hans continuing his struggling against her brothers. Her wife's attention seemed split between watching her work her ice and whatever was going on with her brother, sparking an irrational surge of something akin to anger within her that spurned her towards completing her task.

"Ignore him." She groaned, trying to summon her usual poise but failing, her tone lacking the edge she desperately needed. For the first time in her life, she was pleading and didn't even have the presence of mind to be ashamed of it.

It earned her Anna's attention though, teal eyes darkening as she looked at the Khaleesi. Slowly, the redhead moved her hands along her skin, removing the remains of her vestments, exposing the muscles of her chest and belly, her breasts and the patch of curly red hairs at the apex of her thighs. Fingers stroked along her sex, spreading the accumulated wetness while licking her lips, almost as if she was doing it purely for the blonde's sake- which, to be frank, was more than okay with Elsa, who was drinking in the display hungrily. Sufficiently aroused, Anna leaned over Elsa, claiming a quick kiss before lowering her hips. The blonde tilted her head back and moaned, feeling Anna sink down onto her length, tightly engulfing the icy phallus. It felt amazing, her wife's heat surrounding her, muscles milking the ice she could feel as an extension of her own body, pressure rocking back on her clitoris to add to the sensations assaulting her mind.

Anna grunted, shuddering as she fully shealthed the phallus inside of her. "Feels bigger than I remember."

"That's because it is," Elsa replied, glancing in Hans' direction as she heard Chafka throw the idiot to the ground once more. He was a persistant mongrel if nothing else. Her hands trailed along her wife's thighs and hips, itching for them to start moving and bring them both to euphoria. To prove something she couldn't quite articulate.

The redhead raised a brow, smirking slightly as she used her legs to push herself up until only the tip of the shaft remained inside. "Is someone jealous?" Elsa didn't dignify the accusation with a reply, dropping her gaze to Anna's chest and filling her hands with her wife's breasts as she dug her heels into the dirt and lifted her hips. To her surprise, Anna didn't move away, instead meeting her thrusts, arching her back to push into the blonde's hands. "I'll take that as a yes," she said, her voice slightly breathless just before she moaned. It wasn't until the redhead sat back heavily, limiting Elsa's movements, that she stopped. "Elsa, look at me."

"What's gotten into you?" The blonde hissed, shifting her hips to gain as much friction as she could, fingers digging into her wife's thighs hard enough to leave bruises. She needed and wanted and why was Anna keeping this from her?

The redhead hummed, clenching her muscles around Elsa's length and rocking her hips once. "Right now, you."

She groaned, unable to stop the chuckle that bubbled up from her chest. The blonde frowned when her hands were pulled away from Anna's body, their fingers entwined as the redhead pressed them to the sides of her head, immobilizing her further as she started moving again. Lifting up until Elsa was nearly pulled out of her, then lowering herself, all at a slow and steady pace, and the blonde had no choice but to remain still and enjoy it- which she did. Thoroughly.

"It's true though; I can feel you inside me, cool and firm, touching me like no one ever will," Anna said, voice soft as she moved. "I can smell the oil you use for your hair." She leaned closer, taking a deep inhale through her nose and setting the words against Elsa's lips. "Taste you in the air, your skin." She rolled her hips and the blonde couldn't help but moan softly, granting access as Anna's tongue slipped into her mouth, running against hers briefly before pulling away. "It combines with the grass and dirt and horses and sweat- things of the Dothraki that remind me of you every day." She started moving faster along Elsa's length. "But what I hear? What I see? I hear my brother crying and shouting; I see him getting the life beaten out of him, while I'm being pumped full of one."

Elsa growled, digging her heels into the dirt once more as she started thrusting, needed to reach deeper into her lover. Anna did nothing to stop her this time, releasing her hands so she could grip the redhead's hips. Her wife's hands returned to their places beside her head, trapping her there, fisting in the dirt and grass as their bodies moved.

"I want him to see me grow big with your child." Her wife was still speaking, voice becoming rough as they worked, panting lightly. "After all the years of him trying to stamp out my soul like a dying campfire, I want him to see me bring new life into this world. I want him to see me achieve something he never will."

She grit her teeth, the continued mention of Hans stoking her anger and driving her to push into Anna harder, faster. If anything, the redhead seemed to expect the reaction and moaned, leaning her weight onto her arms so she could move her hips faster, meeting each of Elsa's thrusts.

"And I don't want to hear him anymore." Something in her voice prompted the blonde to look up, locking gazes with her wife. "Drown him out, Elsa. I want to hear your pleasure over his pain."

There was a moment where she acknowledged that, for the Dothraki, it wasn't the... sire- for lack of a better term- who made noise during sex, aside from a few grunts maybe, but she relinquished the ridiculous notion that she was still in charge anymore and moaned loudly. Words began rolling off her tongue, praising her wife's form, her touch- anything and everything, to the point Elsa wasn't sure which language she was using or if she was even making sense. Speaking always became difficult the closer she got to her release, something she'd realized during their wedding night and had taken every precaution to avoid since.

Until now. This night belonged to her wife, to the dragon that summoned fire that burned brighter and hotter than any pyre could hope to accomplish, fire that surged through her body and across her skin, wrapped around the ice she'd summoned. She moved one hand, seeking out the bundle of nerves that would hurry her wife to the blissful end she was fast approaching herself, but Anna brushed her hand away.

"Time for that later." Elsa looked up, mesmerized by what she saw. Sweat forming on the redhead's brow from her exertions, cheeks tinted almost as red as her hair, chest heaving, breasts bouncing as she worked, and the most earnest of desires shining in dark teal eyes. "Right now, there's only one thing I want." Anna leaned closer, shifting her hips so the blonde was doing most of the work. "Your seed, Elsa, and the promise of a child. My Queen, my Elsa, give it to me. Let it go."

She couldn't help whimpering at the pleasure rocketing through her from hearing those words. Being claimed, belonging to someone who held her heart- the feeling sparked something deep within her as she started outright rutting, seeking her release as commanded. As it approached, Elsa bit her lip only briefly before moaning out, slamming herself deep within her lover.

"I love you." She spat, the words in Valyrian but roughened and twisted by a Dothraki accent, almost unrecognizable to her own ears as she threw her head back and climaxed. Elsa heard the tiny whimper the redhead released as the first spurt of her cold seed shot deep into the welcoming womb of her wife but continued thrusting her hips lazily, trying to catch her breath as her mind slowly returned to her. By the time she was spent, it dawned on her what she'd just done, and she hurriedly sat up, hands cupping Anna's face. "Anna, I-"

The words cut off as the redhead shushed her, claiming her lips in a languid kiss that set Elsa's heart fluttering once more. "I was ready. It actually didn't feel as cold this time, honestly." She smirked, raising a brow once Elsa was sufficiently placated. "So, that's what you said on our wedding night, hmmm?" Her expression fell slightly as the blonde blushed, realizing that she couldn't even try to deny it. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it, my love."

Anna pushed her back down, kissing her again and lightly palming her breasts, trailing her tongue along the blonde's jaw, lavishing her with attention. In the distance, she could hear Ser Kristoff making apologies and Hans' whimpering protests, her bloodriders replying with various promises of further humiliation if the moron kept trying to interfere, but they died out the moment Anna squeezed her inner muscles, wrestling a strangled groan from Elsa.

"Tell me when you're ready."

"Again." That was meant to be a question but, somehow, the blonde couldn't manage the proper inflection, mouth going dry at the mischeivious grin her lover was sporting.

"I said I would ride you all night, did I not?"

There was a moment when those words hit her like a horse's hoof, knocking the wind from her. It passed quickly though and she surged up, claiming Anna's lips in a hungry kiss, raking her nails down the redhead's back, anything to mark this amazing woman as hers. When the kiss broke, her wife wasted no time in lifting up and riding her once more, allowing Elsa to revel in the sensation of their breasts sliding against each other, teeth and lips finding purchase wherever they could, their moans filling the night air. The Khaleesi was vaguely aware of the comings and goings of the tent beside them but couldn't be roused to properly care as Anna continued riding her. She lost track of how many times the redhead brought her to the edge of oblivion, coaxing more of her seed to spill before her wife's energy began to wane.

But it was still early in the night, the moon barely risen, and Elsa didn't want to leave the tight, warm embrace of her lover. Instead, she rolled the redhead onto her back without breaking their intimate connection and gave her wife some much deserved attention, her own release taking a step back while she worked. Their coupling continued into the early hours of the morning, when both were too exhausted to continue and fell asleep right there under the open sky, separating only long enough for both to settle on their sides, the blonde's front pressed against her wife's back as she wrapped the other woman in her arms and pressed tired kisses anywhere she could reach. On Anna's insistance, Elsa's icy appendage was buried in Anna's folds as they drifted off- where it belonged, according to the redhead.

It never occured to Elsa to object.

Hans didn't go anywhere without Ser Kristoff at his side. The blond knight was his saving grace, able to communicate with the heathens and keep them from acting on those menacing sneers and veiled threats. He'd even managed to talk the horde's healers into tending his broken arm, bruises, and cuts, though the setting of bones and balms did nothing for his wounded pride. He'd underestimated the horse bitch's agility and strength, true, but she was weak in the end, as he'd always believed. Ser Kristoff had told him that the only thing that stopped the supposed ruler of the barbarians was his sister's words- his sister, that meek little girl child that he'd sold to the bitch in the first place!

It truly boggled his mind how such a feared group of warriors could bend the knee to, essentially, a freak bitch in perpetual heat! Hans had seen with his own eyes the aftermath of that night, how Anna had fallen asleep with the horse bitch's unnatural... thing buried in her cunt. Fucked like an animal, and yet, he was the one being jeered at by the horde's warriors while they seemed to absolutely worship the ground his sister walked on! And why? Because she'd somehow succeeded in seducing their pathetic horse bitch queen?

Rolling his eyes, Hans retreated into the safety of the cart he was riding in, craddling his broken arm with a sour frown. Unable to ride comfortably due to the sling and his still healing bruises, the man used his time riding along in the cart to think about how he would have his revenge. First, he'd show his precious little sister what happens to those who fail to respect him, giving her the honor of being the first to taste the vengence he'd reserved for the Usurper. With any luck, word would spread quickly, and his enemies in the Seven Kingdoms would tremble in fear at the prospect of the pain he would bring them, falling before him in a pathetic attempt to save their lives. He wouldn't spare them, of course, but his reputation would precede him, of that he was sure.

But the horse bitch, no, she would live. She would have the honor of being his first concubine, a slave to his pleasure. He'd take her like she'd taken his sister- like a wild animal, one that needed to be shown the heel of his boot to coerce obedience. Hans absolutely delighted in the thought of breaking her mind and body until the only thing the horse bitch could understand as her purpose in life was sucking his real cock.

But first, he had to get rid of Anna.

Elsa rode in her usual place at the head of the khalasar, her bloodriders behind her and Anna at her side, eyes focused on the path ahead. Her shoulders were squared, head held high, and she looked to many like absolutely nothing was wrong, save for the obvious circles under her eyes. She doubted any were curious as to why their Khaleesi was missing sleep, spending her days guiding the khalasar and her nights intimately lavishing attention on her wife, but that was the least of her concerns. Her unwaivering gaze was also unseeing, her attention on the thoughts swirling in her head and the concern she could practically feel boring into her back and the worry growing at her side. She'd been quiet during the morning meal, her attention focused on the impending meeting with the dosh khaleen. Much like Anna, there was a part of her that worried about facing the council, though for vastly different reasons than her wife.

For years, she'd avoided returning to Vaes Dothrak to keep herself away from those crones' hungry eyes; a part of her story she'd hidden from Anna was how the dosh khaleen had tried coaxing her into siring the Stallion through one of them- even those who'd long lost their monthly bleeding. It would be the highest honor to bear her child, they'd said, and none would be better suited to the task than those who had gone through the trials of child birth and khalasar life before.

Now, she could look back on the memories with a hint of amusement, but at the time, the dosh khaleen had terrified her with their insistant requests. It was the first time she, as Khaleesi, had taken control of her life, demanding them to back down and leave the decision to her. Her first introduction to the power she weilded when the older women shrunk back and respected her wish.

As odd as it sounded, the idea of relinquishing that power also terrified her. There was no hiding what happened that night when she'd willingly given Anna control, submitting to the redhead's every desire. There was no hiding her inability to deny the redhead. In that same vein, Elsa feared there was no denying that she was no longer fit to rule the khalasar.

Even the largest and strongest khalasars would break if the leader was considered weak. Typically, that leader was a Khal, and while she'd chosen to rule as Khaleesi, certain things were required of her, just as they would be required of any male to lead the proud Dothraki. For years, she'd acted as the leader her warriors were proud to claim as theirs- fearless, powerful, undetered. Yes, she could be compassionate and merciful- her warriors did not rape or slaughter the weaker peoples they conquered; they respected life in all its forms, as she'd taught them- but she was as much a horselord as those who came before her- as the man she'd replaced. Taking Anna as her wife hadn't changed that; the redhead taking the title Khal hadn't changed that.

Elsa submitting to the will of her beloved, however... there was no precedent for this. As such, she had no idea how her warriors were truly taking the development. Would this inflict a wound among those who followed her that would fester until it broke them?

Would her brothers abandon her?

"Blood of my blood." Elsa jerked her head up, acknowledging Chafka as he pulled up beside her. "May we speak in private?"

She looked around, noting how Eyelke and Vorsaka had moved up too, how Anna was watching the men curiously but with a hint of solemn understanding. Her grip tightened on her reins but she nodded, forcing a small smile. "Anna. Keep the horde on the path. We will ride ahead."

Her wife frowned, clearly disliking the order. It was becoming harder and harder to separate from each other, and neither was more responsible for that than the other. In fact, the blonde could hardly complain, enjoying the time they spent together, but her duty came first- something her beloved still wasn't entirely content with. "As you wish, my love. Be safe."

Elsa nodded, leaning forward in Snow's saddle as Chafka, Eyelke, and Vosaka followed suit, the four galloping off in front of the khalasar. They'd only ridden for a few minutes when Chafka pulled ahead and shifted their course, taking them off the main path and into the high reeds. Once far enough into the thick of the Dothraki Sea, her bloodriders slowed their mounts and she did the same, until they were walking the horses aimlessly, somewhere between the main body of the horde and their outriders.

"I assume this matter is far too pressing to be dealt with later," Elsa said, her voice calm despite the concern lurking just beneath her skin, her magic ready to defend her if need be. She had nothing to fear from these men- her brothers, blood of her blood- but there was a darkness in the heart of most that she'd seen flashing in Hans' eyes not too long ago. For Anna's sake, she couldn't be complacent.

"Not really pressing," Vorsaka replied, smirking slightly as he combed a hand through his beard. "We just know your dragon will be less inclined to follow if she'd occupied."

She instantly bristled at the mention of Anna, jaw clenching.

"Easy, sister." Eyelke chided, shaking his head and sending his bells tinkling. "We intend the King no harm. None would dare disobey her, especially not now."

"Is that so?" She raised a brow, noting the amusement shining bright in her brothers' eyes.

Surprisingly, it was Chafka- big, silent, wise Chafka- who laughed uproariously. "After what you did to that weak fool she calls brother? No, none would dare. She is your mate and you will destroy any who wish her harm. Even if she shows them mercy, you will take their honor- a fate worse than death. It is known."

"It is known." Eyelke and Vorsaka echoed, all four of them bringing their mounts to a halt.

"She's earned her bells, become a true warrior, and a fearsome one at that; none dare get too close to her in the heat of battle. To dishonor you is to elicit her anger, and the anger of a dragon is a terrifying thing. None would dare; it is known."

"It is known."

Elsa looked at her brothers, smiling in relief that they could see the same as she could; that Anna, and her union to the woman, was more than worthy of the warriors' respect. She raised a brow, however, when the men began shifting slightly.

"What is not known, though, is why the weak one still lives." Chafka shrugged, confusion written plainly on his wide face. "Why does the King not kill him? Or allow one of us the honor? He clearly disobeys and disrespects; why is he allowed to live? Why does she insist on showing him mercy?"

"We know it was the King's decision, but we do not understand it." Eyelke added, frowning.

The blonde couldn't help groaning, crossing her arms over her chest. "And you couldn't ask her this because...?"

"She scares us." Vorsaka admitted, much to the irritation of his fellow bloodriders. Unlike Chafka and Eyelke, Vorsaka was younger than Elsa, though he hardly looked it. A full head taller and just as wide as the others, Vorsaka had been a lad with stubble on his chin when he'd first fought his way to an audience with the Khaleesi and often acted his age, more than Elsa ever did. The youngest rolled his eyes. "It's the truth, brothers; none of us would dare question the King without the Queen's permission!"

"And we don't want to wake the dragon within by asking out of turn," Eyelke begrudingly said, scratching at his cheek and looking elsewhere.

Sighing, Elsa found it in her to laugh lightly, shaking her head. Sometimes, it confused her why she got so worked up over silly things. Her brothers would never abandon her; their life was tied to hers, just as hers was tied to Anna's now. "She wishes for him to bear witness to the Stallion's birth, to see the one who will gain more glory and honor than he will ever manage."

Vorsaka laughed, slapping his thigh. "I tell you, she's a Dothraki's bastard just like you, she must be! My father did the same!" Rolling her eyes at the old joke- and wondering why she tolerated it in the first place- Elsa bade him continue, curious as to what the slain Khal had done. Although a tad grating from time to time, the youngest of her bloodriders had some interesting stories about the khalasars who roamed the Dothraki Sea, being the only not of their number to hear about the Jesh Khaleesi before ever meeting her. "There was a walled city of milk men my father laid seige to; another King had wagered he was too weak to overcome such a small obstacle. Once their wall lay in ruins, my father took a milk man's daughter to wife, and sought out his challenger when next they met in Vaes Dothrak, boasting of the Prince yet to be born. His wife championed the council's test and it burned the other King to know that the Prince would grow strong and fearsome. When they returned to the Sea, they were at war." Vorsaka puffed his bare chest out, smiling wide. "My father took great pride in bringing me on the battlefield as a babe, showing me to the man who dared call him weak before ending his life."

The others shook their head at Vorsaka's youthful arrogance, Eyelke shoving him lightly. "Brother, must we always hear of the 'strong and fearsome Prince' from you?"

"That wasn't the point of the story!" Vorsaka groused, waving towards the Khaleesi. "The point was that my father did the same, once- insulting his enemy by bearing a strong child, and then killing him! Our King does the same and we will be rid of the weakling once the Stallion is born, once he is further shamed." He shifted in his saddle, spitting at the ground. "It's something to look forward to- an honor she may bestow on one of us! I certainly wouldn't mind bashing his head in, if given the chance."

From the look on her other brothers' faces, neither of them were of a mind to disagree with the youngest. Still, something nagged at the back of her mind. "Brothers, I must ask. Will I lose my place to Anna?" The three men stared at her a moment, beyond befuddled, so she continued. "I worry... that I will no longer be considered the horde's leader. I don't mind that my wife has become more... aggressive and assertive, that she proves herself capable, but I wonder if this will mean I am no longer fit to lead."

Eyelke and Vorsaka opened their mouths to answer but Chafka silenced them, nudging his horse close enough to lay a calming hand on Elsa's shoulder. "Blood of my blood, is this what has been troubling you recently? That we may think of you differently because the King mounted you?" She nodded, feeling neither shame nor sadness at the admission. "Your worries are misplaced, sister. I have followed you for years, faithfully, and those who follow you now are just as loyal. We are blood of your blood. It is known." Eyelke and Vorsaka echoed the words and came closer, wearing surprisingly soft smiles that matched Chafka's. "We are the first to be sworn blood of a woman warrior, the first to follow a woman into battle, the first to follow two, and we will not be swayed from our path by something so small as which woman mounts the other."

"I daresay that even if the King sprouted a penis herself, we wouldn't be too shocked." Eyelke drawled, chuckling. "The Great Stallion sired all that roam the plane, from the metal men in their stone homes to the Dothraki who roam the Sea." He reached out to trail thick fingers lightly down Snow's face, marveling at the creature. "We have seen your blessing with our own eyes; who would dare shun what the Great Stallion has gifted us with the honor of witnessing?"

"In fact, the warriors are beginning to think the reason why the King goes without war paint is to proudly display the markings you give her." Vorsaka teased, earning a punch to his arm.

"For the record, Anna feels as though she hasn't truly earned the title of warrior yet." Elsa sighed, having offered half a dozen times a bowl filled with paint to the redhead without succeeding. "She chooses to go without."

Chafka snorted. "I don't understand how she doesn't see herself as a warrior. She subdued you, and that's something none of us have accomplished."

Vorsaka and Eyelke busted out laughing at the shock that temporarily showed on Elsa's face before she sent a small flurry of ice to freeze the man's beard. "That's quite enough out of you. I thought you were supposed to be the wise one of us, hmmm?"

Despite her pretense at being offended, the blonde laughed as she turned Snow back towards the cloud of dust that followed their khalasar, her brothers falling into place around her as they rode to rejoin the horde. Looking back, her concerns were ridiculous, but the conversation put her mind at ease regardless.

"Elsa." She turned to raise a brow at Vorsaka, his voice sounding far more serious than she was accustomed to hearing from the man, especially when it accompanied her proper name. "There is one thing that has us concerned."

Turning, she noticed the same severe expressions on Eyelke's and Chafka's faces, too. "Which would be?"

"We will follow you, blood of my blood, to our dying breath. We are yours." Vorsaka briefly fingered the whip at his hip. "If you choose to follow the King across the poison water, we will still follow you. But... if the King chooses to stay in the land of metal men- in these... Seven Kingdoms-"

She could see the conflict in his eyes, the confusion, and it was in her other brothers' eyes as well. Their loyalty fighting their fear of the change that taking up residence in the land across the water would bring. Maybe things they had allowed- the loss of slaves, respecting the women who travelled with them, showing mercy to the villages they sacked- but this was much bigger than all those combined.

Elsa raised a hand, silencing her brother, and smiled. "The night she mounted me, Anna said she would return with us to the Sea. We will cross the poison water and bring back their broken gods to kneel before the Mother of Mountains, but we shall not dwell in that foreign place. None of us."

Her brothers visibly relaxed. "Good. I wasn't looking forward to wearing one of those foolish metal suits. They look like they chafe."

"Chafe? Chafe what? It's not like you have anything between your legs, Eyelke."

"He's still got more than you, oh fearsome Prince."

"Says the old man; I wonder if yours even works! It probably looks like a shrivled twig."

"Settle yourselves, brothers. Besides," Elsa gently chided, waiting a moment before throwing a smirk over her shoulder. "I'm still bigger than all three of you."

The four of them laughed, trading lewd insults and jokes as they rode to regain their spots at the head of the khalasar, quieting down only when they came within earshot of Anna. While she may be a bit crude with her brothers, that was behavior reserved only for their presence, just as being tender and intimate was reserved for her King. Instead, they turned their conversation to matters pertaining to the redhead, under the guise they'd called Elsa away to ask permission before addressing her regarding the war paint and, surprisingly, the idea of taking bloodriders herself. It was unusual for a Khaleesi to take bloodriders, true, but a necessity for Elsa; for their King to not take any would be unusual as well, but it was her decision, ultimately.

The only downside to the whole ordeal was that Vorsaka kept bothering her for details on how it felt to be ridden whenever Anna wasn't paying attention, the young man throwing her suggestive looks and lewd gestures behind the King's back. Elsa was about to curse her brother's immaturity when Anna happened to catch sight of one of the gestures, which then made the whole ordeal worth it just to see Vorsaka stammering out an apology as he shook in his saddle. While Chafka and Eyelke did their best to remain composed- and the rest of her warriors quickly passing the word that angering the Khal was a very, very bad idea- Elsa had conceded defeat early and busted out laughing, much to her beloved's confusion.

She would explain later.

A month. They'd spent a whole godsforsaken month in horselords' city. Hans could hardly believe it. Apparently, the horse bitch changed her mind about staying only for a week at most, waiting for something to happen before allowing the horde to move on and fulfill her promise to him. From what his horse-loving knight had said, the delay had something to do with a tradition regarding his sister's pregnancy.

It was beyond his comprehension how these people could celebrate such an unholy union. He'd nearly lost the sparse contents of his stomach when Ser Kristoff began explaining the process Anna would undergo: eating a raw horse heart to feed the child growing in her womb, sired by that horse bitch's unnatural... thing. This, of course, relied on ensuring the pregnancy had taken, which Hans had no doubt of given how the two spent every night rutting like animals wherever they found enough space to manage it.

He flexed his hand, twisting his wrist slightly and grimacing. There was still pain in the limb despite the extra month of healing, and the imported western wine he'd spent what remained of Master Kai's allowance on hadn't completely dulled it. This was his life now: sitting in the trader's market of the horse bitch's city, drinking himself into a stupor while they waited, the entire horde eagerly watching his whore of a sister for any signs of her belly growing.

If anything, their extended stay in the city had brought him a modicrum of comfort: as long as they were within the circle of the broken idols of conquered people that the barbarians brought back, no blood could be shed. This meant the horse bitch couldn't hurt him, couldn't kill him, despite the daggers in her eyes every time she saw him. He would enjoy wiping that smug look off her face, eventually, but he still needed Anna out of the way first.

That was the only thing stopping him: his stupid sister. He had to get rid of her in just the right way. He wasn't foolish, oh no, he'd watched the horse bitch for too long. For what reason he couldn't imagine, she respected the customs of other cultures- he could see it in the way the servants- not slaves, as anyone with a brain would make them, but respected servants- conducted themselves, keeping the manner of dress from their long forgotten former lives and even some of their beliefs.

But as long as he played nice and followed the horselords' rules, he could turn that against her.

It was an old tradition, dating back to when his ancestors first conquered the realm. If ever widowed, a Firemane spouse passed to the next eligible Firemane, or whichever individual of royal blood desired the widow. Long had it been held that any touched by the royal blood would turn to a dragon themselves, thus it was never allowed for one to leave the royal family once married into it. That was how the bloodline remained pure and strong, thudding through his veins. It was a calculated risk, allowing the horse bitch to become part of the family, but one he'd taken with a greater reward in mind. And it helped that she was beautiful herself, much more desireable than the tanned horse bitches sired by the barbarians and birthed by them. He wouldn't mind taking her to wife, in time.

But at the rate they were going, that time would never come!

He wiped his mouth as wine dribbled over his lips, anger rising as his gaze lingered on the flickering light of a lantern hanging overhead. He fingered the sword at his side, weighing his options. Hans was smart- even drunk as he was, still smarter than any of these horse fuckers- and he had an idea. Rising from his seat and leaving a few gold pieces on the table- the last of his money- Hans stumbled outside of the drinking tent and squinted at the sky. The sun was beginning to set; from what Ser Kristoff had said, it was right around sundown when his sister's wife had to make her appearance to the old crones who 'governed' the heathens, taking her bodyguards with her. That left only his sister and the knight, who would gladly stand aside if he ordered it.

Hans nodded to himself, setting off towards the grand tent that surely housed his sister as the horse fuckers waited for their bitch queen to return for the evening meal.

Victory would be his, and he would take his sister's wife as his own before it was all done.

Elsa knelt before the dosh khaleen, her bloodriders at her back, their foreheads pressed to the ground in reverence. She could feel the way the crones watched her, eyes tracing over her form, an unspoken envy permeating the air. Where most Khaleesi must wait until widowed to be shown such unwaivering respect, the blonde held it as a maiden and, now married, retained her dignity despite the unforgiving ways of the Dothraki. As much as she'd come to love the culture and people who took her in after her parents' death, some part of her eagerly hoped the child she sired would temper their wilder ways, truly massing the riders of the Sea into a grand khalasar that adopted her practices rather than the traditions of the horselords.

Her lips twitched into a smile as pride warmed her chest. After a month of carefully watching under the eyes of the Mother of Mountains, Anna was certain her seed had taken. The redhead had missed her monthly bleeding twice- once on the last leg of their journey to Vaes Dothrak and once since they'd taken up camp within the city- and spent her time drawing her fingers lightly over her lower belly. It would take her months yet to show but Elsa was confident their union was successful.

Whether the dosh khaleen were as willing to believe, however, remained to be seen.

"Ice Queen- she who rides as a man, Child of the Mother of Mountains, mother of the Stallion who Mounts the World, rise and listen to the wisdom of this council!" The oldest of the crones called out, voice scratchy but powerful.

Elsa did as she was told, rising to full height and watching the women arranged on the dais, eyes lingering momentarily on the withered and scarred women who held her future in their hands. Some were missing eyes or ears- the prices they paid for their husbands' loss before being escorted to Vaes Dothrak- but most were unharmed, their dark, almond shaped eyes a stark departure from her own visage. Briefly, she entertained the idea of one day sitting beside them, as their peer, a Seer of events to come, but banished the thought. She'd sooner die on the battlefield than allow herself to live in such luxury.

To live without Anna.

The youngest of their number rose, a woman of no more than twenty years and one the blonde quickly recognized. She was former wife to the Khal she'd killed a few months prior, in Anna's first battle. How strange they should meet in this circumstance. "We grant your wife the right to be tried. Tomorrow, she will be brought to the Womb of the World to be tested and the fate of the child growing in her belly determined. Choose the stallion from your herd to be sacrificed and meet this council at the Womb before sundown."

"As the council wishes." Elsa bowed her head, preparing to take her leave.

"Wait, Child." The woman called out, looking to one of the others before resuming her seated position as a new voice filled the air.

"We have Seen more of your fate. The Mother of Mountains speaks to us. You will listen to this council's guidance." She hesitated a moment before facing the council once more, hands clenching at her sides. Rarely did the dosh khaleen ever impart their wisdom outside of the designated ceremonies, unless the information was deemed of considerable worth to the Dothraki as a whole. Anything to preserve their sacred way of life; nothing that would disrupt the circle of life. That was their way. "You face a trial soon, Ice Queen, one that will break you or make you strong. The Mother gives us this wisdom, and we pass it onto you. Pay heed."

"Beware, Child of the Mother, for fire blocks your path. When dragons fight, the herd must abandon the grasslands, for it is not the place of the horse to decide a battle between two dragons," another crone said, setting Elsa's nerves on edge. Aside from her bloodriders, none called Anna Zhavorsa or mentioned the dragon within her. That was for the blonde, for her brothers, not for her people; Anna was their Khal and they would call her by nothing less now. From what she understood, only Anna, Hans, and Ser Kristoff knew the tale behind the redheads' heritage. How had the council learned of such details? "Stay in the Shadow, for you, too, shall undergo the trial soon; a mother many times over, you shall be."

She fidgeted, nervous. Aside from Eyelke's joking comment about the redhead growing a penis, there was no chance Elsa would be growing any seed in her belly and she had no reason to take the trial without a child in her womb. What were these women talking about? She'd made the comment about them being blind old bats with nothing better to do than make up stories out of exasperation for their expectations; had they all gone mad?

"And mind riders from the east, no matter how they arrive." The eldest of the group looked at Elsa, eyes misted over from something the blonde couldn't place. "They bring with them truth and sorrow; they bring change that will test you, fire that will cleanse you."

"Do not fear the change of seasons, Child, or the treachery of friends, for the Mother watches over you," the youngest said, smiling softly. "We have seen the Stallion riding across the plain, the people of a hundred nations following, grown from your womb, the Stallion will mount the world. It is known."

"It is known." The rest of the council echoed, followed by Elsa's bloodriders.

The blonde remained silent, staring down the oldest crone, leader of the council. Finally, she averted her eyes and spoke. "It is known."

"Go, Child, and celebrate." The leader of the council sat back, a curious smile on her lips. "Time you have and time you have not; let not another moment be squandered."

Turning, Elsa quickly left the dosh khaleen's presence, her brothers falling in step behind her, each wearing troubled expressions. Not that she bothered to check, her strides long and quick as she hurried back to her people, to Anna; she could feel them matching her, in speed and emotion. They didn't dare discuss what the council had said, partially because there was little to say in regards to what was Seen.

There was also a part buried deep within the blonde that was horrified by the implications. If the dragons the council mentioned refered to Anna and Hans, only one of them was capable of siring a child... and she would kill him with her bare hands, taboo or no, before allowing that cretin to touch her.

She needed to find Anna. Fast.

The acrid stench of raw horse meat hung heavily in the air as he trudged into the tent, gaze sweeping across the smattering of faces he hardly recognized. Mostly servants, he surmised, picking out the only two 'warriors' in the room as Ser Kristoff and his sweet little sister, overseeing the preparations of the evening meal. A trickle of warriors followed him into the tent, their eyes boring into his back as he walked on mostly steady legs towards the main table, the cooking pit in the center of the room the only obstacle between him and his target.

Ser Kristoff moved to intercept him as he stalked around the bonfire that roared to life as he passed, flames licking at the air about chest high as he openly glared at his sister. Of course the whore would stop the knight, confident she could actually do something; oh how he would make her pay for thinking herself of worth to anyone aside form her stupid animal. She did look the part, though, dressed in the vest and breeches of cool blue she always wore, blood red markings drawn on her arms, chest, and face to match the true warriors. Looked like she was worthy but she wasn't. He was the only one worthy and tonight was his night to prove it.

"Your horse bitch has finally done it, dear sister." He growled, goading her, riling the pathetic anger hiding just behind her eyes. "She's finally shown her true colors."

She rolled her eyes and he grinned, wrapping his good hand around the handle of the sword at his hip, preparing to draw it. That earned him her full attention, the girl bristling at the implied threat. "Hans, you can't carry that here. It's against the law."

"What law? The law of the horse fuckers?" He laughed, drawing the blade just enough to show the promising gleam of metal. "You're one of them now, aren't you? A horse fucker." He lolled his head to the side, sneering. "Or the horse being fucked, I suppose."

She stepped closer, the foolish girl, hands out like she was calming a skittish animal. "Hans, I-"

He pulled the blade free completely, registering the gasps of horror and muttered curses erupting around him as he leveled the tip of the blade at her throat, the sword's edge pressing into her soft, tanned skin. "You'll, what, dear sister? Do you really believe a whore like you can do anything to stop me?"

Hans allowed the tip of the blade to move slightly, as if his drunken stupor was taking hold, but it was a ruse. He wasn't so foolish as to break the horse fuckers' law; he still needed their brute strength and dim witted, blind devotion. As soon as he made their queen his bitch, he would have them, but he needed to dispatch his sister first without shedding blood.

And the stupid girl fell for it, ducking around his blade and lunging towards him in a desperate bid to disarm him. He moved aside though, swiping at her halfheartedly with the sword, directing her where he needed without her being the wiser. She was more concerned with not getting hit by the blade, just as keen as he was on not breaking their precious taboo for his sake. The fool. Finally, she was positioned just right, and the last thrust of his blade had her backed up, heels tapping the stones that marked the bounds of the cooking pit. Anna nearly lost her balance but pinwheeled her arms until she could stand straight, recognition dawning on her face as Hans took up the perfect position.

His lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "To hells with you, dear sister." He lifted his leg and planted his boot firmly in the center of her chest, knocking the wind from her and sending her reeling backwards, headfirst into the pit as the flames lept high to embrace her.

"ANNA!" His gaze lifted to the entrance of the tent, where the now widowed horse bitch stood in horror, watching her beloved whore fall into the pit. He shealthed his sword, smug as her shock gave way to anger; although terrifying in her fury, there would be nothing more pleasurable than breaking her at the peak of her grief. He noticed the magic pulsating from her, ice covering the dirt floor and the tent, creeping across every surface, but paid it no mind.

"How nice of you to join us," he said conversationally, strutting around the pit until he was standing before her, the fire roaring tall behind him. "Don't draw blood, right? That is the big no-no." He wagged his finger and shrugged, laughing. "Guess I accomplished that! Which means... you can't do a thing to me now, can you?" He shook his head, contemplating how he was going to force her to her knees, savoring the pain in her expression. "Too bad you're too dimwitted to understand what I'm saying-"

"You heartless, manipulative, stupid piece of unredeemable shit," the horse bitch said in fluent Common, volume rising with every word and startling most everyone. Including Hans. The temperature in the tent plummeted as his jaw fell slack, undeniable surprise flooding his system. When had she learned the Common tongue? Had she been playing him all along? "When I'm done with you, you'll pray to every god in every heaven and every hell for mercy and find none! I won't even give you the sweet release of death! I'll- I'll..."

All too suddenly, the ice stopped forming along the floor and sides of the tent, shrinking back as the source- the epitome of winter's fury- slowly morphed from pained anger to unmitigated shock, eyes wide. It became warmer, almost uncomfortably so, and Hans shook his head to recover himself. Had he really allowed this woman to intimidate him? A trick of the mind, no more; he would bend her to his will soon enough. "It just occured to you, didn't it? That you can't do a damn thing to me right now, protected by your laws? Wait until you've heard mine. You'll regret not killing me when you had the chance."

"No, Hans." Hans felt his heart stop and drop into his gut at the voice just behind him, a searing hot hand grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around until he was behind held up by his tunic, feet kicking uselessly in search of the ground. But getting away was hardly his main concern, paralyzed by the sight before him, skin blistering as an unnatural heat fully engulfed him. "Because you're mine!"

Anna's eyes danced like green fire, her hair rippling like the flames themselves as heat poured off of her. Her formerly cool blue vestments were now shades of reds and oranges and yellows, layered upon each other and constantly shifting, changing with every breath she drew like the flames all around her. The bonfire was roaring tall, tickling the roof but not burning anything somehow, least of all the redheaded woman emerging from it.

"Zhavorsa, Hans! Fire does not harm me for I am a dragon!" Her voice was like nothing he'd ever heard before, reverberating through his chest like the most terrible drum, fueled by the rage burning through her. He'd always assumed his sister didn't have it in her, the fierce streak that was their family's hallmark, but now he saw it plainly. And for the first time in his life, Hans truly feared his little sister, more deeply than he'd ever hoped she would fear him. "I wonder, my dearest brother..." she snarled, bringing his face within inches of her own "... are you?"

The world flipped on a new axis as Anna lifted him into the air and threw him, headfirst, into the fire as the flames jumped up to meet him, paying him a thousand times over for every slight he'd ever inflicted upon her- and there was no doubt this fire was controlled by his sister, an extension of her fury, the last images in his mind being that of his sister's eyes watching him writhe in his final agony.

Elsa's chest heaved, eyes wide as she watched Anna standing on the cooking pit's stone edge, the bonfire rising high into the air and framing her form. Her brother's dying screams filled the air and all shrunk back, all except Anna and Elsa. Both women were rooted in place, the redhead watching her brother accept his fate while Elsa stood in awe of the power she'd always suspected lurked within her wife finally granted release.

Chafka, Eyelke, and Vorsaka had attempted to move forward when Anna had first emerged from the flames, eager to assist their Khal, but the blonde held them back with one hand. As the council had said, this was not their battle; Hans was never theirs to punish, despite the urge still pounding heavily in her heart. Just seeing her beloved again mended the horrible rend that had nearly torn her apart, but she waited, as patiently as she could, to approach. Waited until Hans' screams dwindled to the crackling of the fire, waited until Anna's shoulders slumped, waited until her approach was seen as a welcomed reward rather than encroaching upon a sacred moment.

The moment when one dragon was killed by another.

"He wasn't a dragon." Anna announced as if reading her thoughts and turned around, the air filled with the smell of charred human flesh, a snarl marring her features momentarily. "I should've known."

The fire died down to its normal height, the moment broken as everyone within the tent drew a collective breath. Nothing ever emerged from the pit and Elsa slowly walked forward, testing the ground between them. When she was about three feet from the redhead, she started to lower herself, bowing her head as the rest of her khalasar dropped to the ground, prostrating themselves before their Khal. Before her knee could hit the dirt, however, Anna stopped her, gently pulling her up.

"Elsa, my love... I'm so sorry." And just like that, the dragon was sated, the redhead embracing her and burying her head into Elsa's neck. "I should've listened. I-"

"Hush, you silly woman." She muttered, pressing her lips to crimson locks and wrapping her wife up, so grateful to be holding the woman again. It didn't matter that she was right about Hans- nothing mattered aside from making sure her beloved Zhavorsa was okay. "Are you... alright?"

"It's just fire, love." The redhead chuckled, capturing her lips in a kiss that burned through her, setting every nerve on edge. It still surprised her how much passion could be packed into a simple gesture, nevermind the shorter woman it came from. When they parted, their foreheads remained touching, contact helping soothe the pain still fresh in her heart and mind. "Thank you, Elsa. For seeing what I had forgotten, what I couldn't find it within me to believe."

The blonde hesitated, kissing her again, sliding her arms around the redhead's waist, breathing in her scent. "I didn't mean just physically, my love." She drew her head back, icy blue meeting still roaring teal fire. "That... couldn't have been easy for you."

Anna bit her lip briefly, then sighed, nuzzling into her chest. "We'll speak of it later. Not now."

"As you wish, my beloved." Elsa turned her head slightly, nodding to her bloodriders so they could regain their feet. Slowly, those present rose, some fleeing the tent to spread the word, whispers flying between servants and warriors alike. She felt a smile tugging at her lips as her wife was gifted a new name: they would call her Vorsa Khal, to ride beside Jesh Khaleesi. It was more than a little amusing. "I suppose we should see to the meal, then, yes?"

Her wife parted her lips to reply but her stomach answered for her, grumbling loudly. "I, uh, wasn't planning on eating, actually. Depending on the judgment from the council. I thought it might be easier to... eat the heart if I was hungry."

"You'll do fine. The trial isn't until sundown tomorrow. There's time." Elsa nodded to the servants, pulling the redhead away from the cooking pit gently and bending to nibble on her ear. There was much she left unsaid, afraid to push the other woman too swiftly.

The baser part of her nature was becoming difficult to control, had always been in the redhead's presence; having almost lost Anna and the life just beginning to grow inside her, she needed as much physical confirmation that her wife was still there beside her as possible. Somehow, Anna seemed feel the desire beginning to overtake her senses and matched her step for step, slipping her hands under Elsa's vest and raking her nails over pale flesh, lightly biting at the blonde's neck before licking the wound.

Eager to be swept away into that special world that only existed between the two of them, Elsa reluctantly acknowledged the knight standing a tad too close for comfort, tightening her hold on her wife.

"Will you remain loyal, metal man?" She turned her head, eyes glinting dangerously, unconsciously angling her body to shield the woman in her arms. "Or will you follow your Prince?"

Anna gave her a brief look of exasperation but remained silent and slightly amused, offering the man neither help nor hinderance.

Ser Kristoff instantly put his hands up in surrender, his customary sword left elsewhere as he obeyed the laws of Vaes Dothrak. "Hey, I have no desire to join the idiot, if that's what you're asking." She narrowed her eyes at him as he vaugley gestured towards the pit. "There were rumors, you know? That Hans was a bastard anyway, claimed though he was by the crown. Word had it that his mother was a maid his father took pity on for some foolish reason or other." He shrugged. "Guess that might've been true. Either way, I pledged myself to the Princess, not him."

She glanced down, noting the odd, wistful expression on her lover's face. Catching the barest hints of sorrow, Elsa endeavored to remember, at a later point, to hold her to her word; though she acquiesced to wearing the war paint, Anna had no bloodriders of her own, no brothers- true brothers- to act as confidants. There was a scar on her heart from this night, regardless of how necessary it was. The blonde needed to do her best to mend it and keep the poison of regret from festering.

And to send a very clear message.

"I'm sure I don't have to explicitly state what will happen to any who would dare harm my wife." Elsa willed a blast of icy air to circle the tent, driving out the stifling heat Anna had summoned, effectively earning the attention of those who were still present. "But let it be known that Hans' fate will still be considered merciful in comparison." Her eyes slid around the tent, switching to Dothraki. "My wife shall be shown the utmost respect by all or answer to me. She is blessed. It is known!"

"It is known." Was chorused back to her, satisfying the blonde as she allowed her gaze to drift back to Ser Kristoff.

"It is known," he said, bowing his head.

He was either a very wise man or very good at lying; only time would tell. Regardless, he would show himself in due time, so she turned her attention back to Anna, who was... studying her vest, which still held the colors of fire that shifted and swirled with each breath. On a hunch, Elsa raised one hand and touched Anna's vestments. She couldn't coax what was formerly her magic in the slightest, not even inflict it with a hint of blue. The redhead, however, had no trouble shifting the form of her vest on a whim.

"Interesting." She mused, noting how the look on her wife's face slid from curious to something decidedly less innocent.

"I wonder if I can do that to anything you create." Hungry teal eyes flicked down her body and Elsa couldn't smother her amusement, though she bit back a groan a moment later when the redhead pressed against her.

The dosh khaleen's warnings suddenly came flooding back to her mind and she mentally conceded they might not be as crazy as they seemed.

Author's Note: For those curious, every time I read a review about not killing Elsa, I thought to myself 'I should kill Anna. Just to fuck with people' and giggled about it because some part of me is, truly, a horrible person. That being said, I had this series of events decided before I ever posted the first chapter, and I liked this way better. (Also, thankfully, never touching Hans' POV again in this universe. Creep.) This will also mark where we start going way off from the events of the ASoIaF. Not saying I won't... borrow... some things but, well, no more blatant spoilers for y'all who are familiar with the show/books. Now, per Arrietti's suggestion, a list of translations (and shoot me; I'm not creative with names) in alphabetical order. Or close. Please let me know if I missed any. As always, thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, faved, and followed this story. Y'all mean more to me than you know.

Dothraki:
Anni - of my, mine
Arakh - curved sword used by Dothraki warriors
Chafka - Autumn
Dosh Khaleen - Seers, council of widowed Khaleesi who 'govern' the Dothraki from Vaes Dothrak
Eyelke - Spring
Jesh - Ice
Khal - King, (typically) leader of a khalasar
Khaleesi - Queen, (typically) wife to a Khal
Khalasar - horde, group of Dothraki riders serving the same Khal
Kos - generals, leaders of groups within a khalasar, subservient to the Khal
Vaes Dothrak - the only permanent settlement of the Dothraki, a sacred place
Vorsa - Fire
Vorsaka - Summer
Zhavorsa - dragon

Dothraki/Common:
Bloodriders - warriors sworn to a Khal (or Khaleesi), bound to serve until death
Lamb People - sheep herders who live in neighboring territory
Metal Men - knights or soldiers who wear armor, typically Seven Kingdomers
Milk Men - pale inhabitants of the Free Cities
Poison Water - salt water, any water a horse won't drink, the open sea
Stone Houses - Castles

Valyrian:
Valar Morghulis - all men must die, common greeting (You'll note this is the title. Truthfully, I just thought it would be funny to name a lesbian fanfic 'All Men Must Die'. Yes, I'm still chuckling about this.)
Valar Dohaeris - all men must serve, common reply