Brought by the Rain

"My Lord…" The general bowed to the ground and waited for his master to approve of his disturbance but Alchantar did not bother. He sipped on his wine, slowly, diligently as if it took special effort and skill to empty the cup. Moments later the presence of the man kneeled at the door caught his eye and he signaled him to stand and speak. "A man is here to see you my liege." Alchantar looked at him with lazy ironic eyes, demanding for complete information from the general's part. "He has an important message to deliver, he says. From the Targaryen court." The name awoke the Wolof's interest and he looked at the wine swirl in his cup less thirsty to drink it.

"His name?"

"Kanza, my Lord."

Alchantar inhaled deeply; the name resounded in his ears, he was sure he heard it before. He sat the cup aside waving the general out of the room. Why are the Targaryens sending someone my way? Is it that they've learnt of my… but it's impossible! He got up from the chair abruptly breathing agitatedly. He felt the shiver of a cold sweat running down his spine and he took another breath trying to mask his growing despair. Kanza, Kanza, Kanza… where did I hear your name, Kanza? Where? He paced wildly through the room stopping eventually to realize he had tired himself only by marching hysterically at no avail, for his thoughts remained just as tangled leaving him disoriented with the unexpected visit. He took his shirt off throwing it on the bed and bent over the water vessel to wash away the sweat on his arms and neck. His back bared the markings of too many fights, some new, some old, some that could have been avoided. But he was a man proud of his scars and showed them lightly around, bargaining his fame against the depth of these wounds and people did not challenge that. They could not challenge a fool who'd throw himself in battle blindly at the smallest sign of gain.

He rested his hands on the side of the vessel letting the water drip, drop by drop and he listened to the sound in the silence of the room. It was too silent for a morning in Karok. His town never slept, the mornings sounded like the nights and the nights sounded like pits of swarming chatter in the shadows. Too silent… He walked slowly, measuring his steps to pick up a new shirt that he did not care to button. He grabbed his cup on the way out closing the door carefully behind him; something his father had taught him long ago. Never leave doors open; who knows who might creep inside behind your back.

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Jorah opened the door gently sneaking his head inside. She was fast asleep, her arms dropping on the side of the bed and he felt guilty for waking her up to such news. Inglorious morning, child… He stepped inside the bedroom; a princess' bedroom since she made her appearance at the Targaryen court, her new home. He went around the bed, pushing aside the heavy velvet drapes and took a moment deciding whether to sit on the chair or on the side of the bed. He sat on the bed and reached for her hand, slowly.

"Leora!..."

She took in a deep breath, trying to help her eyes open to the morning light and Jorah bowed his head again, subdued by the reality he had to confront her with.

"Jorah…" She rubbed her forehead, pushing away the mass of brown hair and she mesmerized again at how silky and smooth it felt after the maids had brushed it thoroughly the night before. She didn't know her hair could look like that. She deepened her head in the pillows enjoying the soft sensation and ignored Joah who was waiting patiently for her spoiled mood to end. She glimpsed at him looking all mournful and she sighed in regret; not everyone enjoyed a good morning like she did. Leora pushed herself up on the pillows, still reluctant at fully opening her eyes, thinking she might go back to sleep after Jorah said whatever he came in for to say. And he was not fun to have around but she still held on to the hope that he would not ruin her first morning in her new home.

"What happened, Jorah?" her voice sounded serious, but sleepy and she enjoyed that lingering slumber in her tone.

Jorah pouted, folding his hands together, and then again, with his massive rings hitting against each other and she found the noise annoying. He hesitated; his mouth opened and closed again but words seemed to elude him.

"Jorah, just speak."

"You should come with me."

"What happened now? Are we at war already?" he sounded so annoyed and rather upset with the situation, whatever sleep remained on her eyelids vanished with the feeling. Jorah looked at her and the seriousness in his eyes warned her to end her winning.

"Put some clothes on, My Lady." He looked at her white night gown and wanted to add more but he didn't and Leora did not insist. He got up and walked to the door silently with just the sound of his cape dragging behind him. He turned around in the door step and looked at her sliding back lazily under the covers. "Hurry!"

Leora pulled harder on the bed sheets unwilling to give up her long morning; she dreaded the long days ahead of her and she wished she avoided them as much as possible, but it seemed those rooms held no privacy and the intrigue outside the walls could not be stopped with just a lock. She sighed and nodded, accepting her task. The door closed and she sank her head into the whiteness of her bed covers staring at the ceiling. The silence had now become a burden and her breathing sounded too loud.

W W W W W W W

He wished for some silence, he couldn't even hear his own thoughts. Kanza looked around a bit confused with all the agitation. He expected a more organized environment, a respectful lodge dignifying of a king of Alchantar Wolof's size, but the halls of his house seemed anything but and he kept looking at the servants, running back and forth through the doors. And yet, in all this hustle, a few bodies laid still around the room, black sentinels put there for a purpose. His Wolves, his watchers; his murderers if need be and Kanza counted them all, trying to remember their position, envisaging a way out if he had to escape. But they left little room in between, so one mistake by any of these passersby and there would be no way out of this trap. Everything was a trap with the Wolof King, including his own home. His eyes set on a man, staring at him from the other end of the room. Black leather pants, medium height, curly short hair, piercing eyes. His stubble was carefully trimmed drawing severe lines down his cheeks, turning those haunting eyes into something worse that followed you even when you turned your back at him. He took a step forward and the edges of his unbuttoned shirt moved slightly; no man other than Alchantar himself would have dared walk like this in the home of the king, unless he had no brain or courage to waist. Kanza stayed put, wishing for the rumble around him to stop so he can visualize Alchantar better but with all the commotion surrounding him he found it hard to focus on his target. Alchantar raised his hand and the sentinels brought their weapons up; the metal end of their spears glittered against the impartial sun spilling inside through the windows and the servants stopped for a second. As if they were signaled, they vanished in the same unorganized fashioned as they walked, closing the doors behind them and before long Kanza stood alone facing Alchantar Wolof in his home; him and his death dealers.

Alchantar kept his distance circling the stranger a few times before deciding to approach him cautiously.

"You stir my senses… why is that, Kanza? Why is it that I know your name?" Alchantar walked gently around the man in black as if he sniffed his prey, slowly and meticulously.

"The tremble of the earth always stirs the burning coal, my lord." He almost whispered the words sending his message softly to the king's ears and Alchantar grasped on the meaning subtlety.

"A Dakelh at my doorstep. Surely, this is unexpected. Especially when I hear he's been sent by a Targaryen." The Dakelh, the Earth people, the tribe living high on the rocky mountains of Khalur, leading a solitary existence, secluded and mysterious. A race that gave birth to the most fierce and astute scouts and emissaries; veritable weapons of the high power regimes. They cared for nothing other than gain for they had nothing to make profit of in the heart of the mountains. They were warrior monks, following a silence code only a man with their up-bringing could control and accept. Kanza was a fine specimen of his kind and many have heard of his name, yet he remained in the shadows and could never be tracked down, unless he wanted to be found. So Alchantar, wondered who had the money and the skill to find this elusive man and send him over to Karok in the middle of his secret plan… is it a secret anymore? Now the fire had to smolder and be patient otherwise the earth might crack beneath it and scatter its ashes to the seven kingdoms. "Tell me, what is your message? What can my people do for the mighty Kingdom of the Targaryens?"

"Not for the kingdom. But for yourself." Alchantar looked at Kanza confused but quickly switched to a more aggressive stand to intimidate the adversary. Someone must know of his plans; this could not be a coincidence.

"Explain yourself."

Kanza reached within the folds of his long clothes and the sentinels hurried to point their spears at him. The air grew heavier with the tension and the Dakelh froze for a moment giving them time to acknowledge he was no threat to their lord. He raised his other arm keeping it in sight until Alchantar signaled his men to fall back. His protectors returned to their rigid position, but never lost sight of the new comer. Kanza slipped his hand inside bringing out a letter baring a red seal. He stretched his hand towards Alchantar but he seemed reluctant. They looked at each other in a silence that said more than all the words they could speak and still, the Wolof doubted he should open the letter. But Kanza was undeterred; his hand didn't shake, his eyes didn't blink, his stand remained firm. He was a Dakelh, he delivered messages, it was his duty and he had gone through a lot to get here. And there was a lot waiting for him back in Pentos if he did not. Alchantar captured a sigh in his throat detaining it from slipping out of his mouth and reached for the letter. Kanza didn't let go until he was convinced the Wolof had a good grip on it, then his fingers unclenched from the paper. The king looked at the seal carefully. He recognized the symbol, but he could not put a name to it. That meant that whoever sent him the letter must have been a petty nobleman. Otherwise he knew them all in Pentos; the ones that counted. Mormont, Mopatis, they were the players of this game and this was not their seal. Somehow, acknowledging this brought him peace, thinking no one smaller than the oldest court man and the magister of the Targaryens could harm him in any way. He opened the letter with a subtle smile in the corner of his lips and took a few steps closer to the window, allowing that earlier sigh to unburden his chest. One more step; and another until the light shone shyly on the paper and the words stood out in his eyes and his steps diminished. One more step; and another. Alchantar came to a stop. His hand shook a bit and the paper flickered with the tremor. He read the name again and again, and then the words around it, the lines underneath, adding grievance to each one of them and his eyes flamed with the fire of his people burning in his chest. His hand came down, slowly, as if he wanted to find the strength to walk or hold on to the paper, his eyes pierced across the windows and into the shadowy abyss beyond. The clouds were gathering slowly, thundering in the distance. The paper flew out of his hand, flowing with the silent breeze, and as it did, Alchantar reached forward curling his fingers on the spear held by the sentinel before him. The paper flew nearer to the ground and his fingers gripped harder on the wooden handle and as the parchment finally touched the stone floor, Alchantar turned around swiftly, rolling on his heal, launching the spear into Kanza's ribs and he did not see it coming. He bent under the hit, his chest cast forward in a jolt, his back arched with the incredible pain of the metal protruding through his bones. But Alchantar did not want him dead, just suffering; suffering for not doing his task right, for the delay in bringing him such necessitous goods. Kanza fell to his knees, leaning on the side, his arms numb. He finally collapsed on the floor, not moaning, not groaning, but silent as his ways dictated even in the harshest of times. He knew that if the Wolof wanted him dead he would have stroked again by now. But the ordeal was not over yet. Alchantar's foot pressed on his ribs sending him into agony and he squirmed under the sole of his boot.

"For how long have you withheld this information from me? How much time did you spend in the taverns of Karok before coming to me? I know your kind; they like to have their way thinking they have unlimited power just because they know something others don't!" He applied more pressure and Kanza scratched the floor with his fingernails but remained mute to the pain. "But information is frivolous and goes about easily. So who else knows of this? And do not lie to me, because if you squeaked, my people will know. See… it's how I've taught them to be; listen, learn and never betray. Me." He stopped moving his leg but Kanza did not utter a word. "Did you speak too anyone else of this?" the echo of his powerful voice resounded through the empty room making the informant's voice seem weak and lost.

"No." Alchantar did not loosen his grip. He was too enraged to find that calmness he needed to release the man. He wanted to believe no one else knew of this but he still found it hard to conceive that such news had not been delivered to him sooner. It changed everything for him. Such thoughts tired his already exhausted weary mind. He let go of the Dakelh dropping the spear. The sentinels startled with the blunt sound of the metal hitting the ground; a few blood drops scattered on the grey floor. Alchantar walked towards the door, signaling one of his men to retrieve the letter for him. The sentinel rushed to kneel before him with the paper in his hand. Alchantar took it, his eyes scrolled down the letters one more time.

… I fall short to express my regrets for not having reached you faster with this deer news; unfortunately, the times are such that the people I trust are few and my hands are tight when it comes to leaving the walls of Pentos. There is little I could do to bring these anxious tidings myself and present them to you, along with my aggravated concerns. I fear we are alone in this fight, for few of us understand the true nature of this conflict and the danger this woman brings to us and our kingdoms. Leora Stekara must not take the throne; her blood is mingled and she is not to be trusted, with her primitive skills and childish knowledge. I, for one, cannot do anything to stop it from happening, but I trust, my lord, that you could have the means and the reasons, let alone the opportunity to assist in this matter. Pentos already has its rightful owner in Daenerys; the Targaryens do not need a bastardchild to rule over our lands, pride and fortune. She must be uprooted from our path and thrown away, somewhere no one can find her. Never find her. I know my words may weight heavily on your shoulders, but I would like to believe we share common interests and such, disappearance, would benefit us both…

Somewhere in the back Kanza rolled on the floor slowly, trying to cope with the pain. The blood was sieving through the cracks in the stone beneath him. Leora Stekara, the Tekara who had so dauntingly faced him in battle and defeated him was none other than the bastard child of the Mad King. Alchantar smiled knowingly, rolling the letter in his hand. That would explain the foolish courage and the cunning planning of her strategy. Her father was like that; a strategist, a master mind of scheming who rarely fought out in the open. This Narcil Lorday proved to be useful after all, regardless of his inferior rank.

"Call upon my generals at once. I will be in the hall or arms." Alchantar glanced back at the informant. "Keep him…" he paused purposefully waiting to catch Kanza's eye but he didn't grant him the pleasure. "… alive." The Wolof left holding tight to the letter. The sentinel rushed in the opposite direction passing by an agonizing Kanaza, still holding on to his bleeding wound. A gust of wind rushed inside, soothing his pain, cooling the sweat accruing on his eyebrows. The storm was coming and it would go beyond the Wolof borders.

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The wind hurried to push a wave of dead leaves her way and they stumbled in swirls around the white fringes of her long dress. The veils of her long train gathered the dry remains of what used to be life giving roses hanging from the walls of Daenerys' bedroom. Leora looked at the dead trail forming before her as the wind continued building a path for her to walk on, made of rusty petals and broken thorns. She looked up slowly following the invisible gust of wind, looking at the heavy grayish curtains moving with the breeze and somehow she couldn't bring herself to leave the door step and walk inside her step sister's room. She felt Jorah behind her, silent yet firm in his decision of seeing step inside. She let go of the knob, her long bell sleeves slid gently along the wooden frame of the door, sieving the dry air through the transparent material. She took small steps, cautious, her heart sinking low with an unbearable feeling she could not disregard. The bed was empty; empty of her presence yet covered in the nature dying above. And she felt the emptiness expanded all around, coming from behind her and she turned around slowly and as she did, she clearly distinguished the feeble sound of the fountain spilling water, calmly, undisturbed by the emptiness around it. Leora's eyes looked beyond the crystal curtain and saw the dress, on the floor, the ends of her shawl blown gently by the wind. She took a step closer to the edge of the fountain and her heart came to life rapidly, sending her temples into a continuous pulsation making her head ache. Sounds faded, the water murmur died in her ears as she went around the fountain.

Her silvery hair wedded the marble indentations, to the point of complete merging, as if she was becoming one with the floor. Leaves traveled in small circles onto her body, from her joined hands, up her chest and to her face, falling slowly in the hollow of her color bone or down in her hair. Leora lost strength and will and her body weakened with the sight; she knew, she just knew. She turned her face around and sat on the edge of the fountain, her hands numb in her lap, her eyes shadowed by tears. The sound of the water came back, louder than before and the tremble in the pool behind her made her shiver uncontrollably. She glanced over her shoulder again. Daenerys lay peacefully on the marble floor, beautiful, motionless, sad. Leora blinked releasing the weight of the tears down her cheeks and she sniffed, feeling that weight fall from her chin onto her chest and she found no relief in crying. She slid on her knees and crawled slowly to where the body of her step sister was, resting her forehead on Dani's chest. She rubbed her warm skin against her rigid cold hands and one by one her tears fell on the massive ring baring the royal insignia. Leora did not look at the ring; she felt abandoned. She felt she did not do enough to prevent this misfortune from happening. She twisted her body lying on the side, her cheek on Dani's chest and her eyes looking up her body, to her chin and the strands of silvery hair still shifting with the breeze. She saw the markings on her neck, the purple bruises and she came closer to inspect them. They stretched around her slender neck to under her chin where it had scratched her jaw and she had the impulse to touch it but her hand froze in the air unable to sooth Dani's pain anymore.

Jorah came closer and their eyes met. It hurt his heart to see the two sisters reunited to then be separated after so little time. It hurt him even more to see them both distraught; Dani had just put an end to her misery that night and Leora barely started tasting the bitterness of her new life. Leora met his regard and his eyes mirrored her despair. Jorah looked up and she followed him seeing a piece of rope still hanging from the ceiling. Leora's lips parted with a sigh but she still didn't get enough air in her lungs for she sighed again, this time obviously looking to breathe. She turned around, curling her legs underneath her, and she took Daenery's hand into hers, caressing it gently and the coldness of her sister's skin still haunted her senses.

"Why?" she spoke so gently. "She seemed fine yesterday…"

"Did she?" and Jorah questioned her for the truth her heart knew since she had first laid eyes on Dani. Leora swallowed in caught lying. She had had that premonition, that shadow lingering in her mind when she left her sister's bedroom the evening before. "If it is of any comfort, she had tried this before. Yesterday she tried to drown in the fountain but the servants found her on time."

Leora continued walking the tip of her fingers along Dani's white fingers and as the reality of her death sieved in through her morning numbness she wanted to know more and questions crowded in her mind.

"Why would a princess, so young and beautiful put an end to her life? I know she misses Viserys, but she had all the reasons to live." She paused contouring the ring on Daenerys' finger, not really focusing on the insignia. "We are bound to live."

"Some are bound to fall."

Leora looked back at Jorah instinctively, stirred by the impression in her mind.

"We are not bound to fall, we are made fall." She dropped Dani's hand standing up. "She did not want to die. This place, this… the people, the pressure, they made her fall. I've never seen young people wishing to die."

"What about those who go to war before they even know how to mount a horse or hold a sword? They go to death knowingly."

"It's their choice!"

"This was her choice as well!" and he showed at Daenerys' body behind her. "Not all people choose to die because of noble causes, in the name of courage and honor. Some choose to die out of fear and loneliness. Out of despair. And you and I should not judge." He came down on one knee looking at Dani and he rushed his fingers through her hair, feeling the soft texture for a minute. He nibbled on the blonde strands a little longer before letting go. He took her hand and slowly pulled the ring out bringing it back to Leora. "One cannot know what lies inside the hearts of people."

"But you knew what laid into hers and did nothing about it!" she looked angered wanting to defend her sister even in death.

"You cannot help someone who does not wish to be helped. Death was freedom for Dani!" and the way he said her name, so familiar and sweet broke Leora again into tears and she bowed her head leaning against Jorah for a moment; he gave her the time she needed to bring her emotions at bay. She looked at him again and Mormont recognized her mother's valor in her eyes. He took her hand slowly putting the ring on her finger and she watched him do it, speechless. Once the ring was secure on her ring finger, the old nobleman held both her hands tightly making her look him in the eye. "Daenerys tried to die time and again after Vicerys' death; she never succeeded. In my mind, I think she did not truly want to die and her insecurity kept death away from her. Dani was brave and loyal, dedicated to her people and to this family. In her heart she knew she couldn't leave them behind unprotected and uncared for. And then along came her long forgotten sister." His smile made her cry again but she didn't break loose from his hold. "She knew she had found someone to take her place and look after her kingdom. Your kingdom. And she could go in peace." Leora shook her head in disbelief.

"She dies because of me! My arrival here made her trust an illusion! She doesn't know I am not who she thinks I am!"

"But if you are not her sister nor the princess of Pentos, daughter of your father and heir to the Targaryen throne, then why do you stand here now, mourning the loss of someone you barely knew, blaming yourself for her death?" Joarh leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Blood ties never perish." He went back standing straight before her. "Wear this ring with pride. It's Dani's legacy left to you and if after so many attempts Death finally decided to take her it must be because she allowed it, for she was convinced we were left in good hands." He kneeled slowly, still holding her hands and smiled bowing his eyes for a moment. "Long live the Queen, long have we waited for new hope!" But his words passed her by; Leora felt the ring tight and heavy on her finger. Her eyes got lost outside the window watching the stormy skies closing in to the capital. Blood ties never perish… The body of her step sister reminded her of that; of the same weakness crawling in her veins. She too was scared; she too despaired with the hardships life was throwing at her. And there was no one out there she could wait for to save her from this responsibility. Nothing was coming her way, but a storm.

W W W W W W W

The terrace was his favorite place. Khal sat silent, his green eyes smoldering with unanswered questions. Tekaya had been restless with rumors of the council's decision to go to war. He bowed his eyes to the thunders, shuddering to pieces the skies above the sea. We stand to commit fowl deeds, father… He hated to complain or contemplate on something that had been already done. He took a deep breath staring daringly at the Dothraki sea. The billow was loud; the Gods were sending the sea home. The waves kicked in relentlessly against the ragged shores and he listened to what they had to say. A storm rising from the caverns hidden below the water realm, furies and curses sent from the deep, threatening his peaceful existence. He looked at his hands; generous palms, wide open, strong wrists with a powerful twist, long fingers known for their mighty grip of the sword. He turned them around to see the cuts, the burns, the ink drawings he had carved into his skin to remind him that battle was also about blood, and pain and sacrifice. Not just about honor. His hands rested on his knees, his shoulders lowered in defeat. He could not chase away the feeling that this was wrong, that the Wolof did not tell him the whole truth of his intentions. His chest came up slowly with a deep breath and his tanned skin stretched under the pressure. The breeze was cooler as it flew in from the sea even though it was only afternoon. His muscles tensed, his tendons protrude from underneath the skin, his nipples shrunk and darkened in color, visibly affected by the cold. But he remained undeterred; his demeanor unchanged as if the elements of nature did not touch him. A few small strands of hair had broken loose from his tail and now roamed freely across his cheeks, getting caught in his beard and eyelashes but he ignored them as well. He was content with the fact that the council at least gave him the freedom to react to any unexpected change in the Wolof's plan. And by the Mighty Powers, he better not play me!

A servant girl entered the room in her usual humble manner, placing a steaming pot at his side and a small cup. She bowed and was ready to leave when he spoke, still with his eyes pinned on the rising waves.

"Come here." She rested her steps at his side, her head down and her blonde hair braided to the side. His hand touched her dress. "Take it off." The material fell at her feet and she waited for his command, but Khal was delaying his decision of whether to have her or not. He seemed more attracted to the fury of the sea than to the voluptuous nakedness standing beside him. He reached for her bringing her on her knees and he fell back slowly into his large skin covered chair. The girl untied the pins holding his coverings together and found him steadily arose, but not stirred enough. It rarely happened for the Khalasar to be so distraught as to not have his mistresses at once. She wished she could look up into his eyes and witness the storm brewing within but she would die trying. Her fingers circled his manhood, massaging its length, slowly and purposefully and Khal closed his eyes, undecided still whether he wanted her or not. His mind was somewhere else, his body there and the connection between the two was chipped with the worry of tomorrow. She let her lips fold the tip gently, hot and slippery and he closed his eyes allowing his body to take over the mind. He needed to unwind and free himself from the load of his own thoughts. He slipped deep in her mouth, his head fell back resting on the chair; he felt the need surge inside him, pooling down below where she sucked smoothly and rhythmically on his cock. His heart followed her pace and soon it grew faster, racing with her lips closing in to the base of his manhood, holding him prisoner in the depth of her mouth and he was ready. His hands came to life and he wrapped the braid around his wrist bringing the girl up in his lap. She spread her legs riding him difficultly with the chair being wide, with him being so overwhelming in stature and strength. His palms landed on her thighs, grabbing tight to keep her on top of him. She felt him slide between her lips and she was moist with longing for him. He slid up and down her cleft one more time, still keeping his eyes closed, and she did her best to keep her moans at bay and her body away from his, not to offend him with her uncontrolled lust.

A thunder roared in the distance followed by lightening cracking the skies sending veins of fire across the grey clouds; he entered her and she fell on him hard with the sound of the thunder bolts in her ear. His palms pushed down on her until their skins met and he rested fully inside of her. He ran his hands across the length of her legs and pulled her knees up to his hips and she lost control. A short cry escaped her, with the pain in her womb from him going to deep; with loosing balance and grabbing on his shoulders unexpectedly. His eyes opened staring at her face blossoming with rosy blush in her cheeks and clear drops of sweat forming on the hair line of her temples. She guarded her eye sight from him, but he cared less for her obedience. She was blocking his view to the sea, to the storms unleashing in the midst. He put his palm with fingers spread wide between her large breasts and pushed her down, making her arch above his knees. Her tail swirled down her chest falling to the ground as she dangled from waist down, with the back of her head almost reaching his calves. She scrambled to find something to hold on to and her fingers dug into the animal skins dragging on the sides of the chair. Khal groaned with the feeling of his cock being curved so much inside her arching body. He pushed forward a bit, with just a slight rocking of his hips and the friction was incredible. Her inner wall rubbed so hard on his shaft that he became impatient with striking harder, like the lightning scorching the skies far at the bounds of the sea. The servant girl groaned softly losing her breath with the severe twist of her body but he ignored it, searching her body feverishly, walking his hands from her ribs down on top of her belly to where her core was exposed and he pressed his thumb against her sensitive bud enjoying how it sent electric currents into her body making her tighten the hold of her inner walls around him. He went on massaging it, looking at her core carefully as if nothing else existed, focusing his attention into making her explode. He wanted to play, to own, to tease; his face remained implacable, his eyes fixed on the center of his interest and his thumb caressed again the slippery bud, up and down and left to right, so gently, so arousing, it caused her to arch pushing down on the chair trying to get away but his hands brought her back embedding himself back inside her and he went on. The girl moaned out of breath, her back hurting from the twist, her temples pulsating from the blood dropping too fast, too much in her head. She sweated, her face reddened and she beg for mercy behind clenched eyes. His hips pushed inside her again, his fingers worked their magic on her core, spreading her lips to the side, drawing circles of fire all around her moist entry and she couldn't take it anymore. Her limbs failed her, she trembled and lost grip of the chair sliding down to his feet.

But he didn't let her fall. He bent just in the nick of time and caught her, bringing her up and against his chest and she launched at him heatedly relieved from the suffocation and poisoned enough by the smooth rocking of his lips to claim his cock with renewed desire. He freed her hips and she rocked on top of him with a vengeance, slapping her voluptuous breasts against his shoulder as she leaned forward grabbing on the chair for support. Khal pushed her down a bit, to look over her shoulder; the afternoon had become humid, the sun was swallowed by the clouds and the storm had drawn nearer. Her body steamed with sweat and it made the skin on his neck sticky; she rode him good and he ignored the feeling of her body too close to his. When he didn't want to be touched, he didn't want to be touched, but he was complacent now with the view of the rising tempest. She dropped on him harder and his vision darkened his eyes borrowing the grey of the clouds turning into the color of the ever greens high in the Khalur mountains. His eyelids closed heavy with the pleasure becoming unbearable in his groin. His hands gripped on the arms of the chair as she rode him harder. She gasped for air, her breathing burning his ear and he drew nearer to the end. She screamed shortly and he released the chair to grab on her legs and sink her onto him so hard, so open she cried louder. She trembled with him rotating her thighs around his shaft, rocking deep inside her and he came. His body shuddered with the sudden release, and his tremor passed on to her and she threw her head back welcoming an orgasm that made her bite her lips. Khal closed his eyes feeling the breeze again; the day had turned into shadows, the sun was gone and the thundering roared louder and closer to the shore.

"Leave." He didn't help her off, he didn't look at her dress, he didn't care she could barely walk on her way out of the room. His eyes opened again to the forces of nature; the rain was coming and he welcomed it to wash away his doubts.

W W W W W W W

It rained, it poured, that even the sound of the thunders seemed too weak to pierce through the thick curtains of water. Leora watched the spectacle in silence. It wasn't like in Uyack where the rain fell from the sky like grains of silver dropping small and brilliant in the murky sun making the woods sweat and steam and the plains grow greener under its blessed touch. Pentos looked amiss in her eyes, with its manmade gardens and solid constructions, small streets and crowded markets. Mud coming from under the rose bushes in the yard flooded the stone pavement of the tortuous path ways in the garden below. She watched the purity of the dirt wash on the imperfection of man's creation and she wished she was home. She thought of Cedric and Ortezza left behind preparing for something they didn't even know they could face. Water splashed on the terrace and soaked her black dress but she stood her ground against the windy attack. Jorah grabbed her by the shoulders pulling her back.

"My Lady! Come inside."

She turned around to look at the servants lighting the candles around the heavy wooden table where her step sister lay dead in her coffin. She had dressed her in white; purity born for sacrifice and sacrificed she was on the altar of diminishing desires and puny games of power. Daenerys' pale face lit up little by little in the candle light and Leora watched her with a broken heart. She pulled the black veils on her face to stare form behind its protective shelter at the little crowd gathering in the corners of the once commodious bedroom. Now it seemed to have shrunk with the presence of death and sadness.

"Is this all she disserves? Are these all the subjects that come to see her on her last journey?" she sounded angered and almost spit the words in Jorah's face, but her eyes were still counting the handful of people gathered for the funeral.

"My Lady, you must understand. News of her death must be kept among the walls of this palace at best. This is not the time to spread such rumors." He whispered back, searching the faces of the nobility arriving, looking for signs of more than just curiosity from their part. "Her presence might still be of use to us."

"Her presence?" Leora turned around to face her guide into this new world and this time she was adamant about her opinion. "You would use her name even after she's gone? Hasn't she had enough? Can't she be left to rest in peace?"

"She will rest in peace when her people are safe and she would help if she could in our efforts to defend ourselves against the enemy." Jorah paused peaking her interest and she waited. "What once worked, my wok again, we must count our options and draw our strategies; which are few."

"What are you saying?" in the back of her mind she knew what he meant, but still she needed a clearer answer.

"Let's not discuss this now, but wait for a more convenient time. Join your sister; lead the way for her."

Leora looked outside at the pouring rain and the bolts rolling down from the skies in frightening shapes of countless arms descending to earth. She quivered inside.

"Let her stay for another night." She looked at Jorah with pleading eyes. "Please." Mormont sighed and nodded agreeing to her wish. The door opened and a soldier came in roughly and unwelcomed. His eyes looked wearily around the room searching for someone until they found on him. He bowed and took a step back silently inviting Jorah to accompany him. Leora watched the nobleman join the soldier in the door frame. The young man looked troubled and seemed to find it difficult to resume his gestures to something more appropriate for the occasion. Jorah listened carefully; his eyebrows came together, his lips parted with a sigh. For a brief moment he glimpsed at Leora watching them attentively. He said something to the soldier then dismissed him closing the door. She waited impatiently for the news and this time Mormont didn't wait to speak.

"Kanza has escaped last night. I do not know nor wish to know at this point-" and he underlined the words with an angry hissing "- why I have not been told earlier." Leora looked frightened and Jorah did not rush to offer her support. His mind stormed thinking Kanza could have not pulled this stunt on his own. Lorday! You miserable scum! He sighed and finally noticed Leora staring at him looking for clarifications.

"Can we catch him?"

"It's too late." He patted her hand with a fatherly gesture, too short for her anguish to be soothed but she enjoyed it nonetheless. "My lady, mourn your sister tonight, but tomorrow morning burry her together with your former self. For you must rise as the new queen of Pentos, a queen that will have to face war alone, with just an old man and a small tribe as your allies." He looked so worried it sealed Leora's lips facing the unspoken threat lingering on his tongue. In the candle light, hidden by the black veils, her eyes flickered with tears. "I am afraid that soon we will have to brace ourselves against a greater enemy than Alchantar Wolof." Jorah let go of her hand looking at Daenerys' cold body wrapped in her silvery and golden embroideries. At his side, the blackness of Leora's wear made his heart startle. The true blood of the Targaryens laid dead in the majestic colors of the day light while the nightly shadows enveloped the only true remaining Targaryen; he feared that perhaps Leora wasn't ready.

A gust of wind rushed madly inside killing the flame of the candles; one by one they died and darkness settled in the room. Leora watched as the night sank across the gardens in Pentos; across the whole in the ground where her sister was to be laid to rest; where her old life ended and her new life began. And the rain kept pouring.

W W W W W W W

"I did not call for you Wolof. So why do you bother me?" Khal sat in his throne watching over the hall in all his might and luxury. Alchantar took a step closer; he looked like a man who'd been on the run for days, yet he had only left Karok the night before. Soaked wet and disheveled, the Wolof King did not offer much for the Dothraki Khalasar to admire. "You disrespect my house looking like this, bringing your dirt onto my precious rugs…" and Khal enjoyed being ironic and sadistic to a man who had obviously killed his horse over night to get to the far shores of his sea. But Alchantar ignored his game of words and came closer with water still dripping from his long cape on Khal's precious rugs. And he looked the Khalasar in the eyes making sure he noticed the wet trail he left behind. Khal smiled; he admired a man with courage, even if he was a mad man like Alchantar Wolof.

"I heard rumors of your decision, my Khalasar…" he tried to catch his breath, finally bowing his eyes to the chieftain.

"Rumors are nothing next to my word, Wolof. You should have waited for my call, as I said. I never hurry to decide, nor to spread rumors, especially when I have to bargain war with a man so elusive such as yourself." Khal spoke firmly and slowly; all of his council, all of his people present in the room, all of the Wolofs along with their leader got his message loud and clear.

"I hope I have your trust my Khalasar, for I meant each and every word I spoke in your presence and my actions and commitment stand true." Alchantar looked down, but from the top of his eyes he glimpsed at Khal, trying to read his reaction. But Khal was hardly impressed by honey talk.

"I never trust anyone but myself just as I trust that your commitment stands true to your own purpose." Drogo walked down the few steps from his throne going in small circles around the Wolof, playing with his knife as he paced. "But my council decided that your purpose could benefit us as well, thus the Dothraki will join forces with you –" he stopped looking at the profile of the Fire King and his green eyes met the burning depths of this slick man "-but be advised that I stand to have free will in this agreement of ours and the council shall not interfere to save you if you but think of betraying me." Their regard locked strongly from the corner of their eyes as they stood next to each other.

"You have nothing to fear." But Khal walked away with a smile in the corner of his lips. "And to prove my intentions I have brought more news. This time… disturbing ones." Khal stopped pouring wine and placed back the bottle on the tray the servant held up for him.

"Speak." He sipped going back to his throne; he rotated his neck gently, cracking the bones and he enjoyed the sound.

"A bastard child of the Mad King Aerys II has been discovered living with the Tekaras."

Silence; not even he had assumed such news, not even the Khalasar himself had believed the child would be found. He played with the wine in the cup but didn't drink.

"There were rumors long ago of a bastard child. They lost track of him."

"Of her, my Khalasar. It is a woman."

Khal smiled and the smile turned into a grin and then into a strong laughter. He emptied his cup in a gulp putting the glass aside.

"You amuse me! Alchantar Wolof, a lecher, a sweet talker who has left more bastards behind than Aerys himself misses to see this woman living right under his nose, the only woman who could actually make a difference for him!" He shifted position in his throne, pushing his legs forward carelessly, obviously content and pleased with the new twist in the situation. "All these years you've been fighting the Tekaras and you didn't know! It must be the irony of the Gods!" He lifted the empty cup. "Wine!" The servant girl rushed to his side and refilled the cup. "The Gods and I enjoy the same irony!" He sipped a few times, taking his time to acknowledge the information. "What is the name of this woman and why do you fear her?"

"Leora Stekara and I do not fear her." Alchantar pressed on the words trying to make a point.

"Her name sounds strange. She did not inherit it from Pentos."

"No my Khalasar, she was raised and named by the Tekaras." Alchantar took a deep breath thinking of how to explain his plan better. "Princess Daenerys as you well know is not capacitated to rule at this time and so Mormont and Mopatis have been looking long and hard for this half breed to replace the broken line of the Targaryens. Now they found her; but she would only be a puppet in the hands of the nobility. If they get to her first, we loose. Bringing one woman down would be less troublesome than fighting the lavishness and stubbornness of the Targaryen court later on."

"So you want me to fight with you to defeat a woman?" Khal's voice sounded incredulous.

"One thread breaks from the canvas and it falls apart entirely. One thread is added to the canvas, all others tighten around it. This mere woman proves to me to be more important than the Tekaras themselves and my never ending quarrel with them." Alchantar's voice betrayed the amazement to his words; a little while ago he would have not given up his war against the Tekaras for anything in the world; but now…

Khal finished the second glass, dropping back in his throne. His eyes searched for signs of deceit in Alchantar, fixing him with his impenetrable green gaze. Behind the thick eyebrows his thoughts span slowly like wool on a spindle, weaving a plan.

"Where is she now?"

"In Pentos, my Khalasar."

"So she has the Targaryen army." Khal was thoughtful weighing his chances against the eastern kingdom.

"Your armies are greater!"

"My men need to know why they're fighting, why I am leading them to death. Remind me again, other than your woman, why else am I helping you?"

"Trading, duties, power." Alchantar paused, adding value to his words. "Maybe the unity of the tribes."

"This is what I say we fight for and remember my words for they will weigh heavy on the battle field: I will help you bring balance in Pentos so that we may reason with the Targaryens and keep their piracy at bay. As for the Tekaras, that is still your war to end; my people will not raise against its own kind."

"The Tekaras are not your kind!"

"We are all the children of the Mighty Powers living under the same sun, following the same rules and we have all been given a gift that we must use and value. If the Wolofs have decided to use their fire only to kill, then I shall not be a weapon for them to spread the heat! Am I clear?"

"Yes my Khalasar…"

"I will get my men ready and call for you. Do not come uninvited again or this war will finish before it begins." Khal never looked more serious since Alchantar first set foot in his house that grey morning. The Wolof bowed; he turned around slowly, looking at the council members and he left the room in his proud manner. Behind him, the Khalasar watched the clouds ready to burst again with the anger of the Gods. Leora… The sky tore in two split by a bolt of light launching into the sea. Now the enemy had a new name, no face and this woman intrigued him. The room emptied but he did not see the people bow to him. He was left alone, with an empty cup in his hand and a name echoing in his ears. The rain rushed hitting hard against the walls of the house and Khal listened carefully.

From the borders of Pentos, to the low lands of the Wolofs, in the mists of the woods around Uyack, to the peaks of the Khalur mountains where the Dekelhs learned their mastery skills of deceit, down to the shores of the Dothraki sea, the Gods foretold the future of the four tribes. Fire, Wind, Earth and Water, they would all be stirred by the shifting tides in the destiny of one woman alone.

The humidity rose in the air; her name rained down on him, like watery powder, moist and heavy, sticking onto his eyelids and Khal closed his eyes. So it came with the rain…

Author's note

Straight Edge Queen – Thanks for the comment on the last chapter! Glad you liked it! MUAH

Sandradee27 – hahaha girl that was good! Khal is more sex haha I know he is, but I need to build a plot first BUT because you insisted I slipped a small sex scene in this chapter just for you to lavish on. Thank God Khal has many willing mistresses and servants which come very handy to me when I need him to fool around Soon there will be more and yes, Leora is coming his way Much love right back at you!

Hinaloveer 1010 –where are you girl?