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9
Nefarious Pang
Eight moons have passed. Eight nights. Sleep would not take us. Silence could not win. So our company divulged. The first day was filled by an ode to Daenerys. Her voice, a lyric to conquer my own, began eagerly. She spoke of how the searing coals warmed her black dragon egg with scarlet ripples. And her skin, brazed into its rock, felt nothing. That, in her, she felt the Targaryen blood thrive. That although she felt none of the heat, something devoured her with a calling. A calling too early to say for she said nothing of it, only continued more. She spoke of how she was a student of seduction, her teacher one of the handmaidens. And lastly, of how her confidence grew so ordained that she took her lessons further. She mounted the Khal, gazed down into his almond gaze and found new affection.
The encrypt scales, of my own, were not spoken. Either we couldn't contemplate it yet or she was hiding. Even as we took a moment's break, as I looked to my palm, the color and feel no longer. I didn't question how she could be so calm, how she could keep this from me. But she already revealed it last night. Blood of my blood, the Dothraki phrase for a family bond. We've always been family, this wasn't new. But after the dragon's egg pierced its flesh into mine, when she claimed it so direct- I was no Targaryen, by blood. It shouldn't have happened. We both knew it. But could say no more, hitherto.
So the next day was given.
She listened as I spoke of the bath, of Viserys, of how her gift redeemed me from depression. She changed. Nearly could I see her brother, Rhaegar, livid behind her soul. His spirit, his caution, his protective drive. The sudden resemblance was unmistakable. She might have even gone to Viserys and unleashed her hatred. If I hadn't assured her that the Khal's plan was already eating her brother away, she would have.
But when the fourth night overlapped, the truth of her change and soliloquy became real. Khal Drogo returned when our voice slowed to a pause. Not moments before we were slaving over plans. Plans of trying to salvage what I've created. How we could deceive my abdomen with some kind of truth when months should come pass. And when the ninth month develops, how to birth an infant without conception. It was all so dangerous. But we had to halt the method. For he, under the arc, bore rapture. It was there I saw in Daenerys a mirror of his own need. The fear and cry of her first encounters were healed. She found a home.
I stood freely, thinking perhaps the maidens may have an extra berth. We would continue this later. There's no returning to Viserys, not without the Khal's consent. I couldn't either way, not so soon.
But they'd yet to follow their passion. They stayed where they were, staring and waiting, for something- For me to take leave? After all, it should have occurred sooner. I've been sleeping in their marriage bed. By invitation yes, but it's grown delicate. There's no reason to leave with the egg. It's safe, with the other two. Returning here was unavoidable anyway.
But leaving was somewhat difficult.
The Khal made another barricade and stood gating the door with a look to decipher. Daenerys, on the other hand, read him fast.
"Nalareth, he doesn't want you to go far-"
"Away from Viserys you mean?"
"Yes. You must stay where he puts you. I must know that you're safe and near to us. Say you'll do this," the Khaleesi in her was just as strong as Rhaegar shone. She was stronger.
"Yes," and I was more than willing to abide for her. "Where am I to be?"
She looked to him. "Ajjalan ei," Dothraki patiently left her mouth as though in early practice. But it did well, he followed. She smiled softly, relieved, while collecting us and joining his hand with mine. The gold bracelet I gave her mingled her thin wrist delicately. "I told him-"
"Tonight few," little of the language I could hear as well, if spoken slow enough. By which she probably meant only a few nights. Though she didn't ask nor answer my earlier question.
"Yes," she tilted her head, bliss practically curved her face. She was in love.
The Khal pulled me. But I needed to know.
I moved from him quick. "And how long until he decides otherwise?"
They're falling for each other, it's clear. But he is still the Khal of a very aggressive, very large khalasar. Expectations are reckoned for him. And no doubt, by now, he's told them the news. Their leader is soon to become an Idrik to an expecting Khalakko. They'll consider it a blessing from how they've responded lately. They've accepted his claim of me as his Krista quite honorably. They show great respect when I near. They'll honor it as w blessing for their Khal. And a promise for what's to possibly come with their Khaleesi. But I needed to know what he plans to do. What he'll do to Viserys, their battle is still vulnerable. Something could ignite it again, if only the smallest of insults or damage. And also if I'm to be freed, this was no imprisonment I know, but when will he decide? I was with Dany. I was happy. Still, she didn't answer. The Khal had grown impatient and pulled me away from their tent.
.
Here is where I've been. Overlooking the Dothraki grassland, recalling the past week in quarantine, I was isolated in a guarded, secluded niche. I doubt Daenerys expected him to bring me here. Yes it was close to them. Far from her brother, safe as she put it. But for how much longer?
"Krista?" a voice spoke behind me. It wasn't Kovarro but another appointed guard. One whom the Khal spoke with after we left Daenerys. He instructed him of things too fast for me to catch. Much too fast, the guard had to focus intently to listen. And if he was confused, there was no help. The Khal left us to answer the stiff reminder of his member. It was the reason why I had to leave, but it was different now, she wanted him as well. And so, I was glad to be here. But I wasn't entirely left alone.
Aurum was brought to me, even though we couldn't go riding. His company filled nicely and he seemed to have even missed me. From his custody, I couldn't wander. Even now, he's been eating alongside the field. One eye watching, the other looking for more feed.
"Yes, I'm here," I answered the boy.
He rounded the corner of my hut. He bowed, looking to Aurum, who lifted his head only a moment before plunging his snout back to the field. "Khal say you leave now."
I didn't quite understand. "Shall I follow you or is he coming here for me?"
He furrowed his bushy brow and peered muddled. "No, you leave now."
We stared. The change in my expression must have been interesting for he studied it. "And Khaleesi knows?"
"Only Khal. He say he come for you when time."
"Time for what?"
"No say. You go now, I take you?"
.
It's been nine days since Viserys watched me leave with the Khal. Here I was, freed for however long, in Dothraki clothes. A gift from the native women, leather cooled and a rather revealing back lace made up a tunic of white linen with sandsilk leggings. He won't like it. It'll anger him more. But the old dress was worn, smelt and was burdened by memory. This was graciously given freely. We hadn't even asked for it-
Enough prolonging, don't stand here like a coward.
But as soon as the shade of the hut replaced the warm light of noon, I wanted to leave.
Destruction lay waste inside our tent. Everything was tousled, ripped and wrought. Simply annihilated, his and my clothing scattered, wax from candles coated the floor and walls. The traveling aroma even reeked. And there he was, crippled in front of the low fire pit. Still in the same attire, perhaps in a different delirium. Had he noticed I entered, I couldn't tell. Some broken debris underfoot snapped, he twitched alive.
Though he didn't turn, only lifted his head straight and dragged himself higher. Just another step, one more closer, show there's no fear. Never will I fear him and certainly not now.
"He took you from me," barely could he speak.
"Yes," barely could I respond.
"And he touched you?"
"Carried, in his arms."
"He laid with you."
"No, it was just as you saw. Nothing more-"
"I saw him."
"Viserys-"
"Our son!" He left the filth of the debris and rose to his tallest height. Hunched no longer in self-pity, on his heel he turned. To face me, to reveal just how much the Khal evoked his sanity. His hair was oiled with dirt, matted white strands painted into his face. Skin clammy and coated by thin grime, his defined brows were even damp and cracked lips erect. "I saw him after that savage took you. When you spoke of his existence, growing in your womb, a vision of him took over my mind. His pale face. His strong eyes. Our child filled with pieces of us, I held him in my arms. The way I looked at him, so proud, protective. And you, against me, I held you with us. And we were home. Our crowns matched in the dragon's emblem. The throne was taken back, the kingdoms were ours, a son was born and you were mine."
He reached for me, his hands overcome by their familiar nerves. "I saw him," he grasped my shoulder, then the other, barely capable of holding them both. "And I want him."
So close was I to breaking, to tearing his grip from me. The time kept apart wasn't nearly long enough. The Khal meant to only torment Viserys. But it did far worst to me. The lethal building of emotions brought an unhindered version. When I spoke to Dany, it was just words. But now that I was here, standing before the man who held my life forever tied to his, there's a reaction. One that should have happened in the bath, in bed. When I should have moved aside and let the Khal shred him. But instead there came a roar, unlike any origin I ever voiced.
"You can't have him."
He stared hotly. "No." An expected fight was close, it was his nature, his prerogative. But instead there came a patent rub along my neck and jaw. "But you will. You will have my son and I,-"
"The throne," I parted from his touch and stepped back. Just once more. Once more he must make it clear. To say it aloud again and again as though it would travel the Narrow Sea and drag the throne back for him. For that is the only way he will ever pose upon it.
"You. My crown is inevitable. But you-"
"Are a Krista and am no more the mother than you, a father. I gave the Khal the idea to save us from your own doings. And now, the entire Dothraki army believes I'm pregnant. And that you are the father- But you can never be- You won't be the man I've wanted. And I've accepted that. For years on end, I've accepted who you are. When your father joined our hands, when we ran from King's Landing, when your dragon would rage its undying cry until it blinded your soul. I've been your reigns, the stone which melts beneath your fire. But if you've accepted it all, then- your vision of that little boy in your arms is no more alive than my love is for you."
A shatter. An implosion born from the hollow of his throat. Creeping through his viscera with gathering pang, I broke him. His full, wide lips pulled apart. Dry rifts sticking together, veined, the smallest hint of a pout even moved but ranked feral. No longer could he steer himself straight. His mind was slowly divorcing his body. The sadistic mirth of his so called power was taken. And should be taken further.
"I may be forever yours but you may never be mine," I attacked with word. He attacked with loss.
But there came no such violence. A gesture, instead, by which I've never seen from him. Rash and sudden, his knees buckled and gripped my hip. His boiling forehead desperately leaned into my abdomen. "I could have you right now," his lips moved to hide its tremble. The silver-blonde of his drizzling hair blended eerily into my tunic's white linen. "I could tear these rags, open you up and take your virginity right here. It would be easy. I've already done it. Already have I tasted the juice between your underlips. My tongue has slipped into this delicious warm drink. I rode inside your silky edges, they filled my own hardness," the hot sweat along his hairline wet a halo above my womb."You wanted me. You desired the love I gave," he poured everything into this hold. Everything. "But I woke. I woke from that dream to find you gone and far from mine," he wasn't kneeling to enforce any of it. He was kneeling, to beg.
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