KAZMA PART 2

Highlander weddings were always a wild and lively affair. Filled with drinking, dancing, and sometimes even fighting. Lord Kazma Yirah was told the day after his own wedding that it was quite an eventful evening. He remembered the drinks that day were plentiful. Far too plentiful, actually. It was the last thing Kazma remembered doing. He was told the next day by his wife what had happened.

Apparently, he had started a fight with three separate men at the same time. It was a stupid, drunken battle that left all four of them bruised and bloodied, but none of them came up on top. It was actually the late Queen Mara who broke up the fight and separated everyone. People said the woman was fuming mad through the whole exchange, and her dark red hair was all over the place, resembling a crown of wildfire.

Queen Mara was always a wild-tempered woman, but she was passionate towards her people, which showed in her actions. So when the dreaded time came that illness took her away, the whole kingdom wept a thousand oceans in just a few days. Kazma knew King Lux had never recovered from that trauma either. The poor king felt it in his soul and continued to feel it until his death.

Kazma lowered his eyes to the ground and nearly stumbled over Alyona, who came rushing up before him. He would've fallen over if some of his men didn't grab his shoulders to steady him.

Some of them laughed. "Commander, don't go stumbling now. You hadn't even had anything to drink yet."

Kazma chuckled at their snarky comment. "I'm not as young as I used to be. I could just look at a glass of wine and get drunk now."

Kazma always thought nothing could live up to a Highlander wedding. Yet, a Dothraki one, on the other hand, is a whole different thing. They were wild, filled with unlimited drinks, food, fights, and even sex. Kazma and his people had counted at least four dead bodies so far as they walked through the crowd. Blood had soaked into the sand as they did their best to avoid it, as well as the people actively fighting over a woman to have sex with.

Before Kazma and his men could fully emerge into the wild Dothraki wedding, he held his hand to stop them. "Alright," he began, looking down at Alyona. He could see that the smell of meat had grabbed her attention, so to stop her from wandering off, he quickly held her still by grasping the scruff of her neck. "If you're gonna drink… don't get drunk. I don't want to find any of you the next day, either with your entrails missing…or your dick missing. Do I make myself clear?"

All the men nodded, eagerly looking around at the meat and drinks they were more than ready to dive into. "Yes, Commander Yirah."

"Alright… Go have fun. We'll meet up again at the same spot here."

Kazma waved at his men and watched all his brethren dash off to enjoy the festivities. Honestly, he wasn't too concerned about it came to drinking and chatting, Highlanders were adept at blending in with crowds. Because of their confidence, they had an ability to talk to pretty much anyone. By the end of the night, Kazma was certain they would make friends with at least half of the Dothraki men.

"I must say…you Highlanders really know how to liven up a special occasion," an unfamiliar voice spoke from behind.

Kazma turned around and watched a man dressed in black robes approach him. He had a weathered face but wasn't nearly Kazma's age. He least had to be in his forties and well trained with a sword, judging by how rough his hands looked and his exhausted posture that had seen many fights.

Kazma smirked, a chuckle escaping from his parted lips. "I know a man from Westeros when I see it. Nevertheless, it's good to know someone from my own country," he said brightly, offering his hand out.

"The same." The man gave an appreciated nod and shook Kazma's hand. "Ser Jorah Mormont from Bear Island."

"Lord Kazma Yirah. First-Commander of the Highland army."

Jorah couldn't help himself and chuckled a little. "I had a feeling that was the case. It would be impossible to mistake your accent for anything else. Strange though, don't you think? Seeing Highlanders all the way out here." He said, gesturing around at the wild Dothraki wedding.

Kazma shrugged with a playful grin etched into his rough face. "Well… let's just call it a series of unfortunate events that led my ass and half my men out here," he said dimly before noticing the small pile of books in Jorah's hands. "A present for the lady, I presume?"

Jorah nodded. "Yes. I was hoping to give my respects, as I see you're doing the same."

"Well, I did promise to give her a wedding present," Kazma said sheepishly while patting the thick book he had in his hands. The leather was fresh and new, dyed a striking green color with the emblem of a stalking tiger on the front. The sigil of House Saber. "Tales and legends of my people, all translated into a language the lady could understand. She always liked asking me about the Highlands, so figured this would be please her."

"I'm sure she would love it," Jorah insisted with a faint smile.

The two men turned around and began to walk towards the front of the wedding, where Kahl Drogo and Daenerys would be.

"By the way, do you speak Dothraki?" Kazma spoke up.

"Indeed, I do."

Kazma grinned. "Great. Don't wander far, because I don't know what the hell I'll do if these wild fuckers start talking to me. Knowing my luck, I'd probably end up accidently insulting some horse god."

Jorah bit down on his lips to stop himself from smiling. The bluntness of a Highlander never ceased to amaze him. "I won't steer you wrong, Lord Kazma."

The two men walked up to the head of the wedding party and saw Daenerys sitting beside a wild-looking man known as Kahl Drogo. He was taller than Kazma and had a strong-looking body. As well as these wild eyes that made Kazma cock a brow, wondering what in the world the Kahl could possibly be thinking. Daenerys looked beautiful, though, radiant in her silk clothes that showed off her stark white hair and purple eyes. Yet, she had an uncertain look about her, almost nervous as she glanced between Viserys and Drogo.

Jorah stood before the Kahl, bowing his head and speaking in Dothraki. He quickly nudged Kazma's arm and gestured for him to do the same.

"A small gift for the new Kahlessi," Jorah offered, handing the books to Daenerys. "Songs and histories from the Seven Kingdoms."

"Thank you, ser," Daenerys thanked him, peering her eyes up with a perplexed look. "Are you from my country?"

Jorah bowed his head slightly. "Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island. I served your father for many years. Gods be good, I hope to always serve the rightful king."

As Jorah walked away, Kazma made eye contact with Viserys, who sat beside Illyrio. The man scowled at him fiercely as Kazma walked up to Daenerys. Her own reaction was the exact opposite, though. Her purple eyes lit up the moment she saw Kazma. A wide smile crept to her lips as Alyona strutted past everyone and sat in front of Daenerys, begging to be petted again.

"Lord Kazma," Daenerys said brightly.

"A gift for the Khaleesi as well. A fully translated book of the tales and legends of the Highlands," Kazma said with a large grin. It warmed his heart to see Daenerys look so happy when she looked sick and nervous only moments ago. "If you have any questions about them… you're free to let me know."

Daenerys opened her arms to take the book. She felt the new leather rub against her fingers as the weight fell into her arms. It was heavier than it looked, but Daenerys was excited to read it. She smiled as she rested a hand on Alyona's fur.

"Does that mean you're staying?" Daenerys asked, a sudden realization crossing her mind with Kazma's last statement.

"Staying?" Viserys reacted quickly and stood up fast. His face contorted with both confusion and revulsion.

Kazma answered their question with a smug smile and a sharp nod. "My people and I had discussed it some time ago. We figured we should widen our horizons if we are to try and make the journey across the Narrow Sea. So, my lady…I hope you wouldn't mind the company of us Highlanders for the time being," he said with a wink.

"Not at all. I look forward to it," Daenerys said eagerly.

Kazma bowed his head to both Daenerys and the Kahl. He stood tall and snapped his fingers towards Alyona, who had rolled onto her back at his point.

"Alyona, da," he ordered sharply.

Reluctantly, Alyona got up and followed the old lord. Kazma stepped down the raised platform and took a seat beside Ser Jorah. He purposely avoided eye contact with Viserys, but he could see the look in the corner of his eyes. A look of complete disdain, narrowed and filled with such hate that Kazma was surprised that he didn't jump on him at that moment.

Illyrio stood up next and gestured for two men to bring up a large chest. Once it was placed in front of Daenerys, it was opened up, and inside were three colorful stones that looked to have scales on them.

"Rocks?" Kazma said bluntly. He didn't even mean to sound rude; it just slipped out before he knew it.

"No, Lord Kazma," Illyrio corrected. "These are dragon eggs. From the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. The ages have turned them to stones, yes, but they will always be beautiful."

"Daenerys reached down and carefully picked up the green dragon egg, staring at it with an entranced look. It felt rough in her hands, but the dark emerald shade of the stone was immaculate and stunning.

"Thank you, Magister," Daenerys said with awe.

Once the gifts were given out, Kahl Drogo rose from his seat and strode forward. After putting the dragon eye back, Daenerys got up, too. Kazma watched her closely and could see that she was sick with fear. She moved steadily but slowly, watching everyone's faces as she moved through the crowd. No one dared to say anything and kept their eyes solely on her.

Daenerys followed the Kahl, and he led her to a stark white mare. She strolled over to it and laid her hand gently against its face. It was a beautiful creature whose hair reminded Daenerys of her own.

"She's beautiful…" Daenerys breathed out slowly. She looked back to Jorah, who had parted through the crowd with Kazma. "Ser Jorah, I don't know how to say 'thank you' in Dothraki."

"There is no word for 'thank you' in Dothraki," Jorah replied.

Kazma kept his face neutral as he looked around the crowd. He had spotted some of his Highlanders whispering amongst each other in a low voice. Luckily, they had enough sense to speak in their own language, so no one could understand.

"They clearly don't even know what 'thank you' means," Kazma heard one of them say.

Kazma cleared his throat once and instantly grabbed their attention. They all stopped and looked at him, noticing the pointed look their commander was giving. His men stopped talking at once and decided to just watch quietly.

The Kahl picked Daenerys up with ease and sat her on her mare. After that, he mounted his own.

Viserys walked up to Daenerys's side and grabbed her leg, painfully squeezing her. "Make him happy."

Daenerys lips began to quiver as she held tight to the reins. She didn't look at anyone else, not even Kazma or Jorah. Daenerys kept her head down as the two rode off.

Kazma swallowed hard and felt a pit forming in his stomach. He glanced down to Alyona, who was beginning to growl deeply, not liking the tense atmosphere it had become. She was an intelligent girl; she knew when things were uncomfortable…and was smart enough to know who was responsible for everything. She was growling at Viserys. Yet, the man was utterly oblivious. Just smiling at the horizon that Daenerys and Drogo disappeared beyond.

Kazma's stomach was twisting more than ever. He knew what would be happening in less than an hour to Daenerys. A girl younger than his own daughter. It made him sick. He felt revolted as his fingers twitched closer to the axe at his side. Kazma stared intensely at Viserys with wild, unpredictable eyes. He was starting to look a lot like a tiger himself at the moment.

"Lord Kazma." The shock of another voice made Kazma jump a little. He looked at Jorah standing beside him, giving him and Alyona a questioning look. "Would you like…to join me for a drink?"

Kazma took a sharp breath and felt his hand fall away from his weapon. "Ser Jorah…I think I will. And maybe…I won't have to remember this fucking wedding in the morning."

Ser Jorah nodded slowly and led the way as he and Kazma walked off. As the crowd began to thin, the only ones remaining were Viserys and Alyona. The young tiger had crouched down low and stared transfixed at Viserys. After a moment, the man seemed to have snapped out of his trance-like state and noticed the tiger dangerously close to him. He jumped when he realized he was alone and quickly shuffled away.

Once again, Daenerys was in a daze as she stared ahead at the long khalasar traveling through the tall and thick yellow wheatfields. The night from before still wounded her, and every inch of her body was aching, begging to get off the mare that only agitated her tender skin.

Lost in thought, Daenerys jumped when she felt a rough hand press against her forehead. She jerked her head away and was startled to see Kazma on horseback beside her. The old lord looked just as surprised, too. He pulled his hand back before quickly composing himself a moment later.

"My dear, are you unwell?" he asked.

Daenerys tightened her jaw and made sure she cleared her throat before talking. She didn't want to let it slip that she was still aching. "I'm fine. Thank you, Lord Kazma," she said steadily.

Kazma watched her closely as his eyebrow turned up into a cocked stare. He looked towards the dense field and saw Alyona's black fur dancing through the wheat. It looked like she was hunting a small animal. "You know…there are two kinds of 'I'm fine' in the world. The one that actually means 'they're fine'…and the one that's just gritting their teeth and dealing with it."

Daenerys took in a sharp breath. "Lord Kazma-"

"I've had three kids, Daenerys. And each one had given me their versions of 'I'm fine' before. I know your hurting…but I know it will get easier."

Daenerys narrowed her eyes slightly. Even if Lord Kazma meant well, she still didn't like that feeling of being treated like a child. "What makes you say that?"

Kazma could see her irritation gradually rise and decided to change his tone a little. "I mean… you'll get strong enough to where nothing will hurt you. Emotionally and physically. It's something you learn over time. Gaining a second skin as strong as dragon scales is what every kind of leader needs."

"He's right, Khaleesi," Jorah Mormont began as he rode up beside them. "And for that to happen…you need to drink, child. And eat." He reached down into his side satchel and pulled out a thin piece of dried-up meat, handing it to Daenerys.

Daenerys turned her nose up at the sight of it. She accepted it regardless and took a small bite. "Isn't there anything else to eat?" she grumbled.

"The Dothraki have two things in abundance: grass and horses. People can't live on grass. In the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai, they say there are fields of ghost grass with stalks as pale as milk that glow in the night. It murders all other grass. The Dothraki believe that one day it will cover everything. That's the way the world will end," Jorah expressed. Noticing Kazma's face slowly turning up into a subtle scowl.

"Sounds like a grand time." The sarcasm in Kazma's words was blatant. Suddenly, all three turned their heads when they saw Alyona stalk out of the tall wheat, her mouth dripping with fresh blood. She clearly caught whatever she was chasing. "Crazy cat…" Kazma groaned.

"What do Highlanders believe in? If not the old Gods or the new ones." Jorah asked.

A ghost of a smile appeared quickly across Kazma's face. "What we believe in is a man known as Ahrah Saber. He was the first king of the Highlands, who was transformed into a god after battling with a wild, full-grown, Highland Tiger with nothing but his hands. After the battle was won, the tiger had formed a deep respect for Ahrah and remained by his side. He later named the beast Sabriel."

"As in Castle Sabriel? The capital of the Highlands was named after her?"

Kazma nodded, a ghost of a smile slowly returning to his rough features when he saw Daenerys growing curious. "That's correct. It's also how Highland Tigers became the sigil of House Saber."

Jorah looked content with the answers he was given but was not really surprised to hear it. "Sounds like quite an accomplishment. I wouldn't want to come up against a beast such as that. Domesticated or not," he said, gesturing towards Alyona, who was licking the blood from her lips.

"They say when Ahrah Saber was transformed into a god, he created a spiritual valley nearly identical to our lands. When a Highlander dies, their bodies would transform into tigers, and they would roam the spiritual valley. Forever free…and without shackles," Kazma finished with a soft sigh escaping his lips. It was hard to mistake the hint of longing in his eyes. It was that very valley that many of his family members were roaming free now. His parents, his daughter, and his wife, who had passed away long before the war.

Jorah closed his eyes and nodded his head. "I expect nothing less from the Highlands. To long for freedom and nothing more. And truly…it sounds beautiful."

"Everyone has to believe in something, Ser Jorah. Otherwise, how would we sleep at night if there's nothing to dream about," Kazma said with a sheepish smile.

On the other hand, Daenerys looked enthralled by the idea of a spiritual valley. Even though it wasn't her religion, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the idea of transformation. If she was reborn into a tiger, what would she look like? Would she be fast and strong? Beautiful with white fur that glowed in the sunlight? It was an exciting thought, and it grasped her curiosity tightly.

"Is that in the book you gifted me?" Daenerys asked.

Kazma nodded, smiling widely when he saw the face she was wearing. He didn't want to point it out because he knew she would quickly try to compose herself. She was still very, very young though. For sanity's sake, he wanted the childish curiosity to last a bit longer. "It is. Page 143, I believe."

Daenerys looked intrigued. Even though It would be hours until she could rest, Daenerys was already looking forward to the moment she could stop and read about the history of the Highlands.

Daenerys nodded at the two men before turning her mare and rejoining the kahlasar. Kazma and Jorah stood behind a bit longer and watched Daenerys slowly fall out of view. Once she was gone, Jorah spoke up.

"I'm glad you're with us right now, Lord Kazma. I believe the Khaleesi is comforted by your presence," he said.

Kazma nodded in agreement. "I've known her for four years, and truly… it's been a pleasure to see her grow up."

"These sound like the words of a father. You see her as a daughter, don't you."

At those words, Kazma's smile became ghostly again. Faint and hard to see. "I guess I do…"

Ser Jorah nodded slowly and glanced over to Alyona. The young tiger had settled down and was staring at the kahlasar with molten golden eyes. "Do you really think Ahrah Saber could transform souls into tigers?" he asked after a moment of silence.

Kazma scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. "Ser Jorah…I have absolutely no fucking idea anymore. Just the other day, I found out that dragon eggs exist when I firmly denied it all my life, and now… I'm not so sure what I can say about Ahrah Saber." He sighed deeply and ran his hands through his graying hair. "We write impossible things down in books for the children…and when those legends turn out to be true…now we all feel like fools."

Jorah listened quietly for a moment as he reached back into his side satchel, pulling out a leather skin of wine. "You stress yourself out far too much, Lord Kazma." He tossed the skin over to him. "Here."

"Thank you." Kazma huffed as he unscrewed the lid, taking a giant mouthful of wine that he painfully swallowed down his throat.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Lesha's second chapter will be out sometime tomorrow. Be on the look out.