The Teind

Negan places a demand on Carol that shows his true colors and Jesus introduces Rick and Michonne to the leader the "Kingdom," Ezekiel, with surprising consequences.

Notes:
Teind: Old Scots lowland term for a tribute due to be paid by the fairies to the devil every seven years to allow them to keep their realm; in effect a tithe to hell. Found in the story of Tam Linas well as in the Ballad ofThomas the Rhymer.

Quid pro quo ("something for something" in Latin) means an exchange of goods or services, where one transfer is contingent upon the other.

The Kingdom

It really was a fucking tiger.

Rick shook his head and shared a look with Jesus, who suppressed his smile and moved quickly forward to drop to one knee at the foot of the raised dais where the imposing ruler of the Kingdom settlement sat. Heath, Michonne and Rick stayed further back at the front edge of the crowd, waiting to be summoned.

Their trip to negotiate with Ezekiel had first taken them to the post where Aaron, Morgan and Michonne watched the activities at Sanctuary, waiting for some sign from Daryl or the others. Rick had found it hard to leave, knowing that Carl and his friends were somewhere inside the huge complex, but he also knew they couldn't hope to take down Negan without help.

Michonne had decided to accompany them, leaving Grayson, who had come with them from Hilltop, behind, mindful that it was his sister who was being held. Rick was glad to know the katana master had his back, just as she had since they'd left the prison. He still wasn't as sure of Jesus as he would have liked, and appreciated the presence of the woman who he counted as one of his best friends.

For her part Michonne had grown frustrated with the waiting game outside of Sanctuary and welcomed the chance to meet another group trying to bring some civilization back to this world. They'd been greeted at the borders of the land Ezekiel controlled by riders geared up in light armor, like that Glenn had found at the prison, and escorted to the small walled city at the center of his territory.

Jesus brought Hilltop's greetings from Maggie, explaining the leadership transition in careful terms, but Ezekiel gave a big bellied laugh, asking if Gregory still had his balls, and saying he couldn't wait to meet the woman who finally put him in his place.

The warm laugh had drawn Michonne's eyes to the African American man on the throne and she couldn't help admiring the front he presented. His graying hair fell in a thick mane of dreadlocks at least twice as long as her own, pulled back from his face and tumbling over his broad shoulders and bare barrel chest. He wore a purple velvet robe and what looked like black silk tuxedo pants and sandals. In his right hand he held a long handled mace like the war clubs used by the warriors of some Native American tribes and in his left he held the heavy chain that was attached to the thick collar that restrained the full grown thousand pound tiger that was lying placidly at his feet.

"And you bring me such interesting guests, Monroe!" Ezekiel said, casting an eye to Michonne especially.

"From Alexandria, m'lord." Jesus told him, "May I present them to you?"

Ezekiel beckoned them forward with his right hand, leaning slightly forward.

"Rick Grimes, leader of the Alexandrian community." he introduced Rick first.

Unsure of the court protocol he looked down at Monroe who indicated that he should kneel beside him. When Rick hesitated the tiger made a chuffing noise and then yawned, exposing its teeth and long curling tongue.

Rick knelt.

"Welcome friend Grimes." Ezekiel boomed, "I look forward to our negotiations." then he turned his attention to Michonne. "And this charming creature?"

"Michonne..." Jesus said, and she came forward, side-eying the tiger, wishing she hadn't had to hand over her katana when they came into the throne room.

"Just the one name, like Sheena?" Ezekiel asked with a grin.

"A tiger? Really?" Michonne returned with smooth skepticism, ignoring his question and looking at the man, not the cat.

"Shiva, meet the Lady Michonne," the beast's master instructed and the cat turned a lazy eye to her and licked its chops.

"I'm Heath, if anybody cares..." the final member of the group said in a bored tone, standing behind the others with his arms crossed.

"Friend Heath, welcome!" Ezekiel boomed in his melodious voice, motioning the final member of the party forward.

Heath grudgingly moved closer to stand next to Michonne.

"Enough of the bullshit Zeke—are you gonna help us or not?" Michonne asked testily.

Jesus winced, sharing a look with Rick and then raised his gaze apologetically up to Ezekiel, who was staring raptly at the woman who dared to challenge him.

"We've come to petition your majesty; looking for an alliance against—" Rick began, striving for a conciliatory tone, but he stopped when the self-styled King stood up, holding his hand for silence.

"First we break bread. You must be famished from your long trip. We will reconvene in one hour in the banqueting hall." he beckoned to a man and a woman standing beside and behind him. "Take them to chambers where they may rest and refresh themselves..." and then he made a gesture of dismissal.

The crowd behind the visitors parted and Jesus stood, nodding to Rick that he should do the same, and the four of them reluctantly turned and followed their guides out.

Sanctuary

"You need to talk to your friends." Negan said pleasantly, setting his delicate porcelain coffee cup down onto the saucer and placing it on the small round café table, set for breakfast for two, in front of them.

Carol was feeling well enough to come to the table and her new bodyguard had accompanied her to his master's chambers, only a short walking distance from the rooms occupied by his wives. The poached eggs and toast were gentle on her stomach, the oatmeal laced with honey filling and warm, as was the herbal tea she preferred to the coffee he drank.

Raising her head, her eyes briefly meeting Daryl's look of concern before coolly meeting Negan's gaze, Carol frowned and lowered her fork.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"There is a choice to be made." Negan said, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Carol waited, her stomach dropping, sensing whatever decision she was going to ask of her would be unwelcome.

"Your bargain with me was to come willingly as my wife." Negan said, watching her closely. "And I would spare your town."

"As I have done." Carol said evenly, staring at him, her expression giving nothing away.

The big man leaned forward in his chair and took her right hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her palm as if feeling the small ridged scars left there by the thorns of wild white roses she'd once destroyed in despair. He pulled her closer until her could reach out and cup her chin, holding her in place as he leaned in.

"Yet your delicate condition means we have not been able to consummate our marriage." he breathed before closing his eyes and fitting his lips to hers in a sensual kiss.

Carol didn't resist, but her eyes rose again to Daryl's, pleading with him to stay back.

Negan's personal guard, a burly Italian looking man with an Uzi held in front of him, watched avidly, licking his lips, and Carol's skin crawled thinking of what he probably witnessed in these rooms daily.

Daryl's jaw tightened and his grip on his bow made his knuckles go white, but he didn't move.

Carol closed her eyes on her tears, forcing herself to kiss her captor back, her hand rising to Negan's wrist, holding his hand on her chin in place, not because she desired his touch, but because she didn't want it to move anywhere else on her body.

Negan groaned as he felt what he thought was her response to him and his other hand came up and cradled the back of her head, plundering her mouth, his tongue plunging in over and over. Then suddenly the sound of shattering china forced him to break the kiss. He looked down and saw that they had accidentally knocked his coffee cup to the floor as they'd moved even closer together.

"Damn, I want you...you make me forget myself..." Negan purred, rubbing his right thumb over her swollen lips, taking her reddened cheeks for a passionate response to his lovemaking, not the fury she really felt.

"Are you asking me to choose between you and the child?" Carol asked, trembling, her eyes filling with more tears. They both knew the doctors' warnings.

Negan reacted with shock.

"What? No—never!" he assured her, lifting his napkin to wipe at her tears, looking chastened.

She almost collapsed in relief, her shoulders bowing, taking the cloth from him and weeping in an overabundance of emotion foreign to her, using it to distract Negan from the man behind him with a primed crossbow staring daggers.

Daryl watched for a few seconds more and then slowly relaxed, wishing he could let loose the bolt that would end the man's evil existence. It wasn't time, not yet, not until they found Carl and got him and the women all to safety.

"The choice isn't that, my dear." Negan told her again, waiting for her sobs of relief to subside.

Carol looked up at him in confusion, sniffling and frowning.

"I need you to help me chose which of my other new wives will have the honor of taking your place in my bed tonight." the monster said affably, pushing her hair behind her ear and rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone as if she was a child he was comforting.

No, no, no... Carol's brain scrambled for another solution. He wanted her to choose one of her friends? Tell him which one of the women in her family to rape? Enid, barely sixteen? Rosita, already assaulted more than once? Or Tara, who'd never been with a man?

"I've given your friends a week to understand their place here. No one stays for free. If they have other skills to offer, like the physician, then I need you to tell me about that now." he told her, looking at her expectantly.

"Tara was in the police before the Turn; she has weapons and tactical expertise." Carol said quickly, "Rosita is a medic, she served as Erin's nurse... and Enid... Enid worked in the kitchens... but she's only a child."

"If she's started bleeding she isn't a child, she's a woman and can make her own decisions about her body." Negan said flatly.

"So it's still a decision?" Carol asked carefully. "Not a command?"

"It's a choice. I would never take a woman against her will." Negan said stoutly and then turned to Daryl, who held his cocked bow at his side, still ready to raise it in Carol's defense if needed, "Or a man for that matter."

Carol made a little involuntary noise of sympathy in her throat and Daryl's left eye twitched in a barely perceptible wince of embarrassment.

Negan smiled knowingly as he reinforced what he had told Carol this morning when he'd announced Daryl would be her new guard. Because of his past, she wouldn't have to worry about Archer "imposing" on her—he was her loyal dog, only slightly more articulate.

"So if none of them agree to... you'll assign them other duties?" Carol asked, wanting his promise.

"Some of the duties are not so pleasant, nor are the living conditions, compared to yours here, so comfortable that I think they'd wish to give up what I'm offering them as a wife." Negan told her smoothly, turning back to her and shrugging. "One of the women from Alexandria will be willing to share my bed tonight; we'll call it your tithe to keep me from returning there to seek more willing bed mates."

Carol went pale, finally understanding. He expected one of them to volunteer to have sex with him willingly, to save the rest. It was blackmail and rape, no matter how he tried to dress it up as "choice."

"I'll need to talk to them." she finally said, raising her eyes to him.

Negan nodded and stood, moving to her side of the table.

"I'll have them brought to your quarters for the mid day meal." he said and leaned in to give her a possessive goodbye kiss, then turned and nodded to Daryl as he strode to the door. His guard opened it, checking with those who waited outside before motioning Negan through and then followed him, a big smirk on his face.

Daryl closed the door behind them and looked over at a dry eyed Carol who was using her napkin to rub at her already red and swollen lips, as if she could wipe the other man's kisses away. He wanted to go to her, but he was very aware of the two closed circuit cameras above the bed. Negan used them primarily to capture and relive his sexual escapades, but he also used them to tape meetings held in the room.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Daryl asked, quietly deferential.

"What do you think?" Carol snapped back, angrily throwing the napkin down onto the table and leaning her forehead on her shaking hand.

"Should I send for the doctor?" Daryl asked, letting his real worry show through.

"Erin...yes, Dr. Yang I mean." Carol said, looking up at him and holding out her hand, adding shyly, "And I want to go back to my room... but I ...I need your help..."

Daryl immediately shouldered his bow and went to her, helping her stand, but her knees buckled and his arms went under them, keeping her from falling, lifting her and cradling her against his chest.

"I'm taking you to the Infirmary." he said firmly, but she squeezed his arm with a strength that belied her weak kneed act.

"No—I want to go to my room." she told him again, raising her head to stare unblinkingly into his troubled eyes.

There were no cameras in her room.

Daryl frowned at her, clearly wanting to argue, but then nodded and carried her to the door, which opened just before he reached it. Dwight stood there, a look of surprise on his face, not having expected the sight that greeted him. Carol rested her head on Daryl's chest, keeping her eyes closed.

"She sick?" the scarred man asked suspiciously.

"Feeling faint—wants to go to her room." Daryl growled, impatient to be gone.

"Where's the Boss?" Dwight asked, looking over Daryl's shoulder into the room.

"Just missed him." Daryl said as evenly as he could. He was like a beer shaken hard before opened, the pressure from maintaining his cool against Negan's unwitting provocations ready to explode out of him.

"Good—it's her I need to talk to... alone." Dwight replied in a near whisper, his eyes darting to the two armed guards standing about ten feet away at the door to the women's chambers.

"Not supposed to leave her alone." Daryl said in a low dangerous voice.

"Takin' your new duties a mite serious-like aren't ya, Archer?" Dwight smirked, noticing how Carol had nestled so close and trustingly into the other man's arms. He leaned even closer, whispering into Daryl's ear, "I'm thinkin' maybe the kid in the hat lied... it ain't the little Latin number what's yours after all..."

Carol's eyes flew open, meeting Dwight's narrowed eyes and then she looked up at Daryl hopefully, gripping his bicep tightly.

Daryl hesitated, their silent conversation giving Dwight confirmation of his suspicions: the Queen and her pups belonged to the Archer.

"Kid's safe... for now..." Dwight muttered, "But we need to talk, private like."

Carol nodded in assent and Daryl sighed, not at all sure he trusted the other bowman, but going with her instincts. He headed down the hall with her still in his arms, Dwight trailing behind.

Kingdom

"Are you enjoying yourself, Lady Michonne? The food and wine was to your liking?" Ezekiel asked, finding her alone on the terrace off the banqueting hall overlooking the inner courtyard of his grand home.

"What do you want from us, Ezekiel?" Michonne asked, refusing to play into his courtly fantasies.

"Merely to be a good host—that is still allowed, is it not?" he asked her.

"The boy I love like a son and six other friends I consider to be my family are being held by that lunatic Negan." Michonne said in a quiet but heated voice. "I watched him turn another friend's head into a bloody piñata with a barb wire wrapped baseball bat. I don't give a shit what kind of host you are."

"Well..." the man said, nonplussed, unused to being spoken to so boldly and honestly.

"What do you want from us?" Michonne asked, narrowing her eyes and stepping into his space, her face mere inches from his. "You've been coming on to me since the moment we met—is that it? If I fuck you will you help us?" she stared him down, "Quid pro quo? I've made worse deals."

"You think I'm the devil demanding a Teind for helping you save your people and overthrowing the Saviors?" Ezekiel said, sounding affronted, and then his tone turned silken, his hands lifting to smooth over her shoulders "If you come to my bed, it will because of desire, not obligation, Michonne."

Her chin went up and she didn't protest as he pulled her closer, admitting to herself there was an attraction, knowing that behind his blustering façade he'd had the wisdom and power necessary to lead these people and earn the respect of a man like Jesus.

To have a man openly admit he wanted her was something she hadn't had in a very long time. There was nothing ambiguous about the look in his eyes, nor were there painful memories fraught with suffering to overcome with him.

His warm gaze focused on her lips and again she didn't protest when his mouth touched hers in a gentle kiss full of need.

AN: Uh oh!

Thanks for reading;-)