BONUS CHAPER
Eelesia Rin Omake

For the second time in as many days, Eelesia Rin found herself in a strange place, with no response from the Overlink. As she picked herself up off the warm, packed sand, she took a look at herself, and saw that at least this time, she was back to her normal appearance. Buxom, sleekly muscled, with bone white skin, jet black hair, and vividly violet eyes in a welcoming heart-shaped face.

There was a sun shining brightly overhead, and rocky hills in the far distance. Great swaths of swaying grass-like plants covered the lands. Peering up at the sky, Eelesia was fairly sure that it was real, same as last time, but she couldn't see anything beyond that.

Lyn? Zach? Eelesia tried, but there was no one to receive.

The last thing she remembered before arriving in this grassy desert, she'd been on board the copy of the Eliezera, having sex with Lyn and Zach, but it looked like this time whatever it was that happened, hadn't brought them with her.

She wondered for a moment if she was a third magically created copy of Eelesia Rin, but decided it didn't really matter. She'd already accepted that she was a magically created duplicate of the original Eelesia Rin after realizing she was in a magical universe the first time.

Shrugging, Eelesia picked an interesting-looking direction and started walking.

Eelesia walked for days, but such was not much of a hardship for a Fae.

She was alone in the desert, until one evening when she spotted movement. Eelesia watched as what could be called a wall of men riding horses crested a rise. It wasn't long before the riders spotted the pale gleam of her nude skin, and Eelesia quickly found herself being circled by muscular tanned men on horseback, clad in sewn hides and wearing bladed weapons.

Eelesia studied their faces curiously, noting a mix of reactions, ranging from wary fear to naked lust. She blinked as her eyes landed on a still-bleeding scratch on one man's arm. They were human, she realized, like in the last place she found herself.

Those circling her pulled back as a larger man with his hair in a long braid woven with little bells reined his mount to a halt before her.

"Hello," Eelesia greeted serenely. "Do you understand these words?"

Eelesia repeated the question in all of the seventeen languages she knew, but the long-braided man merely stared at her, his expression unreadable. There was low whispering among the other riders, until the long-braided man, without moving his gaze, rumbled out an order in a calm, commanding tone.

"I'll take that as a no," Eelesia said.

The horses parted, and a younger man with short hair came forward with a youthful woman sitting behind him. She dismounted with the ease of long practice and came towards Eelesia.

"Do you know my words?" the girl asked in something very similar to english.

Eelesia nodded. "I do. My name is Eelesia Rin. Can you tell me where I am?"

The long-braided man spoke, and the girl translated, "You face Khal Drogo's horde. The Khal asks who your people are, and how you came to be wandering the Dothraki Sea in not but your skin."

"My people are called Fae," Eelesia answered. "I woke up in the desert, with no memory of how I came to be there."

"Are there others of your people in these lands?" the girl translated.

"No," Eelesia replied.

The man apparently called Khal Drogo said something else, and then wheeled his horse and continued on without waiting for a reply.

"The Khal says you may travel with, and shelter with, his khalasar, but you will not be provided for, and must find your own food and fashion your own tools," the girl said.

Eelesia just smiled. "No problem there. What's your name?"

The young man she arrived with rode up next to her, and she reached up to clasp his arm. The two spoke a few words, and the girl said, "I am Irri. This is Rakharo. We ride now, while light remains."

With the sunset, the khalasar made camp, erecting a small town's worth of sturdy leather tents.

Many of the men watched her with wary eyes, but several others came up to her and started touching her as they loosened their trousers of hide and rough cloth. Eelesia went along with it, having no reason to refuse their sexual overtures, but there was a small scuffle between the five men, presumably over who would fuck her first. The men were all remarkably similar, so she didn't have much of a preference herself, but she was a bit worried one of the fragile humans might be hurt. Unfortunately, she'd only picked up about a dozen words of the language and couldn't do much to mediate.

Once the fight was over, fortunately with only scratches and bruises, the first man pushed her to her knees and bent her over, grabbing her hips as he sank himself into her. Eelesia sighed in pleasure, moaning through two orgasms before the first man finished.

Eelesia did think it was kind of strange how they only fucked her one at a time, and always insisted on the same position. She made a note to ask about that once she'd learned the Dothraki language.

More of the men made advances on her after that, emboldened by those first five men, and over the next several days she had sex with several hundred riders in Drogo's khalasar. Most of them were fairly boring lovers, but Eelesia didn't really mind for the time being. She did wonder why it was only men who came to fuck her.

The whispers and curious-to-somewhat-spooked glances sent her way when they thought she wasn't looking, had died down after that first night, but were now growing steadily worse. Eelesia figured it wasn't worth worrying about, though. It wasn't a hostile kind of feeling she was getting from them.

Eelesia found Irri sitting on a flat rock near a bonfire, stitching some sort of leather bracer together with a crude needle. Eelesia went to sit next to the girl, the rock warm, hard, and slightly powdery under her bare butt.

Irri glanced up, and Eelesia smiled in greeting. "Good evening, Irri."

Irri paused in her stitching. "There is talk of your strangeness." She repeated the sentence in Dothraki out of habit, for the sake of Eelesia's learning, as she resumed sewing.

"Is that bad?" Eelesia asked.

"It is not known," Irri said. "I hear tell that for a tenday no man or woman has seen you eat, nor drink of water. You wear no cloth or hide, yet your unnatural fair skin does not burn under the light of day. The riders whisper of strange sorceries, when they do not boast of your cunt. You are not known."

Eelesia pondered how to explain while she asked another question. "Irri, since I've traveled with this khalasar, hundreds have wanted sex with me, but all of them were men and not one of them a woman. Why is that?"

"Such play is only for when there are no men who wish a mount," Irri said. "It is known."

Eelesia nodded, accepting that as one more Dothraki cultural quirk. She'd learned that there was little point in asking for details about something that 'is known'.

Eelesia reached an arm around Irri's back and lightly caressed the exposed skin above her hip. "There seem to be no men wishing to mount either of us right now. Would you like to play with me?"

Irri looked at her in surprise. "I... I cannot. I must finish this." She held up her sewing. "Then I must return to Rakharo."

Eelesia smiled. "Alright. May I see your needle for a moment?"

Irri paused, confused, but slipped it off the cord and handed it over. Eelesia held it in the palm of her hand, and probed its composition with her Utility Cloud. She smiled when she realized it was mostly iron. She got up and went to the bonfire, snagging a piece of blackened wood from the edge of the flames.

"Eelesia, your hand," Irri gasped as Eelesia returned to her seat.

"I'm fine," Eelesia reassured her.

Eelesia cupped her hands, so it wouldn't be too obvious what she was doing from a distance, and suspended the cinder and the crude iron needle in her Utility Cloud. Irri's eyes went wide as she saw the two objects float seemingly without support.

Eelesia arranged her Utility Cloud into a magnetic scaffold around the needle, and ran an electric current through the metal until it was glowing white-hot. Irri sat frozen, watching the pale nude woman stare in concentration at the glow cupped between her hands.

A short while later, the glow had faded and Eelesia blinked and looked up, holding out something silver and gleaming. Irri took the new needle from Eelesia's palm with slightly shaky fingers.

"It's stainless steel," Eelesia said. "Much stronger than iron, and it will never rust."

"I have heard tales of such things, but never seen," Irri said, examining the large needle closely. "How is this possible?"

"Among my people," Eelesia said. "My strangeness is not strange. My home is not within the lands of Essos or Westeros. I come from a place that is beyond the sky, and in that place I am unremarkable, but I am not the same as the men and women of Essos and Westeros."

The first time Eelesia spoke the Dothraki language, it was in anger.

She came upon a trio of large men, surrounding a young girl. They were handling her roughly. Her clothes were torn, she had bruises on her arms, and her lip was bleeding. This wasn't an entirely unfamiliar sight in the khalasar, but in this case the girl couldn't have been older than twelve, and she was whimpering in pain and crying freely.

With a frown, Eelesia stalked up behind the one who had grasped the girl by the throat, and grabbed his wrist, forcing his hand open as she shoved him away.

"What is wrong with you no-heart beasts?" Eelesia demanded. "Can you not see her tears?"

The one she had shoved regained his balance with an angry grunt and backhanded Eelesia hard enough to knock teeth out of a human. Eelesia didn't think about it, she just hit back out of habit. There was a sickening crunch as her uppercut broke the man's jaw and sent him sprawling onto his back in the dirt.

Eelesia didn't have time to feel sheepish. The other two men dropped the girl and drew blades, coming at her with a snarl. On reflex, Eelesia met the first stab with a palm strike, shattering the blade as it failed to penetrate her hand.

With a sigh, Eelesia restrained herself. These were humans, and while they couldn't hurt her, she could easily hurt them, so she really couldn't justify fighting back against them. She wasn't in any danger.

They stabbed, slashed, and beat on her with increasing frustration and fear, while a crowd watched in shocked silence. The man who'd been behind the young girl, in the process of raping her, threw away his bent blade and tried to strangle Eelesia. He crushed her neck with all his strength, picking her up and slamming her head against the ground, then lifting her and throwing her.

Eelesia touched down with one hand and rolled gracefully back to her feet, facing him. He came at her again.

"Stop!" came the bellowed roar in Khal Drogo's voice.

The men froze, and the crowd parted as the Khal himself strode onto the scene.

"Explain," the Khal rumbled.

At this, everyone but Eelesia started talking at once, until the Khal barked for silence. He eventually got the story from the men and the spectators, and strode up to Eelesia.

"What sort of creature are you, pale woman?" the Khal asked.

"I told you on the day I met your horde, Khal," Eelesia said respectfully. "I am Fae."

Khal Drogo snorted. "Whatever you are, you will not interfere with a mounting. A man has the right to what, or who, he is strong enough to take."

Eelesia brushed that off. "The girl was distraught, and your men did not care or take notice of this. If they have the right to ignore her anguish, I have the right to ignore theirs."

"No," Khal Drogo said. "You do not."

The Khal turned and strode off, ignoring Eelesia's dissatisfied frown. "Well. That's hardly fair."

Months later, Daenerys Targaryen was sitting beside the pillar of masculinity that was Khal Drogo, glancing nervously at him whenever she let her gaze wander. Ser Jorah Mormont sat a step below her, translating and explaining the parts of the celebration for her.

Daenerys' eyes were drawn to the side, as a cluster of Dothraki came into sight, and the unknowing dragonsouled girl spotted an anomaly in the sea of tan flesh and dark hide. Skin fairer than Daenerys' own, hair darker than a raven's wings, and a breathtaking figure that jiggled as she rutted with the nearest man.

"Ser Jorah, who is that?"

The knight followed her gaze. "Ah. She is called Eelesia Rin. The Dothraki say she walked out of the desert without a thread on her, impossibly hale, without any sign of the sun on her skin. They say she comes from a land beyond the sky, where great magicks are common. That she does not sleep. That she fought three warriors at once to defend a young girl from rape, and that steel breaks on her flesh."

Daenerys narrowed her eyes in interest. "Is it true, Ser Jorah?"

"Perhaps," the knight confided. "I know it is true that she goes unclad and yet her skin does not redden, and I have seen a blade break on her flesh with my own eyes."

Daenerys turned to him. "You've seen her perform such magic? Truly."

"Indeed, my lady," Jorah Mormont confirmed.

Daenerys didn't take her eyes off the unusual woman until it was time to accept her gifts.

Eelesia quietly crept along the rocks, making no sound as she snuck up on Khal Drogo and his new wife. The silver-haired girl had apparently never had sex before, and would be expected to tonight, and Eelesia was curious how it would go.

She came upon the Khal and the Khaleesi in a sandy clearing between rocks and grass, and stilled to watch.

Both Drogo and the young Daenerys were naked, with Drogo seated against a rock, and Daenerys on his lap with her back to his chest. He had one hand between her legs, stroking her folds, while the other caressed her breasts. His lips tickled her shoulder, and Eelesia saw him say something. With her eyes shut, Daenerys nodded hesitantly, and Drogo reached down to position his cock at her opening.

Eelesia was impressed. She didn't think the Khal had it in him to be so tender.

Drogo adjusted his hips and guided Daenerys with his hands, sinking into her with one firm thrust. Daenerys winced, and then trembled as he drew out. Drogo kept them moving like that, slow and firm. It was clear that Daenerys wasn't entirely comfortable, but it was also obvious that she was well on her way to an orgasm.

Eelesia crawled backwards and slipped away.

"The Stallion Who Mounts the World! The Stallion Who Mounts the World!"

Daenerys stood triumphant, her face covered in blood, as her beloved Drogo lifted her onto his shoulders and carried her around the wildly cheering crowd.

At the edge of the crowds, the nude form of Eelesia stood still, with only an expression of sadness on her face. Noticing this, Ser Jorah sidled over to her.

"You are not happy for your Khaleesi?" he asked softly.

"Daenerys is not my queen," Eelesia responded. "But I do like her. She is both clever and kind, and in her own way she is very strong. It is my hope that her heart will never grow cold, but if it does not, I think she will look back on this moment in years to come, and regret it."

"I see," Ser Jorah murmured.

"You love her," Eelesia said.

Ser Jorah's head snapped around and he looked at her sharply. "I serve the rightful queen."

"You do," Eelesia agreed. "But you would serve her regardless of her rightfulness. Regardless of her righteousness."

"I would," Ser Jorah stated with conviction.

Eelesia touched his arm and gave him an understanding smile. "I hope you live without regrets."

Eelesia left the knight and the crowd, and went back to the tent next to the Khal's. Doreah was there, bathing herself with a sponge. She looked over her shoulder and smiled when she saw Eelesia.

"How goes the celebration?" the Lysene woman asked.

Eelesia knelt behind the other woman, snaking her arms around her and pressing her breasts into Doreah's bare back. "They cheer the promise of slaughter for slaughter's sake."

Kissing the other woman's neck, Eelesia took the sponge and pulled back enough to continue Doreah's bathing. Eventually, she set the sponge aside and took Doreah into her arms with a searing kiss, as she slid a hand down between Doreah's legs.

Drogo lay on his furs, breathing shallowly, his eyes open but unseeing. Daenerys knelt with a hand on his chest, eyes glistening. Irri knelt beside her with a comforting hand on her shoulder, while Eelesia and Doreah looked on.

"I'm sorry, Daeney," Eelesia murmured. "I should have insisted on treating him. I should never have let that hedge witch near him."

Daenerys took a steadying breath. "No. It was my decision. I am the one who put my beloved's fate in that witch's hands, merely because she claimed surer results. You are only guilty of being honest."

"What will we do, Khaleesi?" Irri asked.

Daenerys didn't answer.

Insert montage of crossover awesome here.

Eelesia held tight to Daenerys' waist as they rode into the sky on the back of her lone surviving dragon. The dragon's wings beat hard against the turbulence of the upper sky. Daenerys' skillfully kept Rhaegal on course even as gravity and space warped around them, playing havoc with their sense of balance.

Ahead of them, the faux sun at the center of the great shell world burned bright. This close to it, it was searing even in the dead of winter. Daenerys' clothes began to smolder and char, but they pressed on.

The shining faux sun resolved in detail, revealing rotating rings of light swinging around a central point. Eelesia grinned, seeing further confirmation of her guess.

Daenerys' clothes burst into flame in earnest, flaking off of her and leaving a trail of smoke and ash behind them. No amount of heat bothered Daenerys, but Eelesia was starting to get uncomfortably warm, and she was glad they'd figured out that escape was only possible during the winter anyway.

The seasons of the shell world, it turned out, were caused by the portal at the center of the sky switching directions. Summer came with the energy of an incoming portal, and winter came with the void of an outgoing portal.

With a last heave of his wings, Rhaegal carried Daenerys and Eelesia between the orbiting rings of searing light. Space around them peeled apart like a blooming flower, and quite suddenly, they were very much elsewhere.

(Game of Thrones belongs to George RR Martin and HBO. I am not affiliated with either.)

(AN: Game of Thrones is an awesome show, but I will never forgive HBO for completely ruining the scene of Drogo and Daenerys' first time, which was far better handled in the book. Or for lobotomizing Shae the way they did.)