Kurt still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he was going to marry someone he didn't even know. The Khal's eyes haunted him at night, keeping him awake and still in his bed. During the day, the palace was filled with slaves moving and packing things while Sebastian spent all his time with Sandy, mostly ignoring Kurt, something he wasn't going to complain about.

A week passed, and suddenly, oh so suddenly, it was the night before the wedding. They would celebrate it right outside the walls of Pentos, where Khal Blaine and his whole khalasar had temporarily settled down for the occasion, since the Dothraki believed that important things should be celebrated under the open sky. Kurt could hear them during his sleepless nights, dancing and playing drums in the distance, and when the wind blew toward Sandy's palace he could even hear them laughing and howling in the darkness, like wolves serenading the moon.

That night, the noise was louder. Kurt wouldn't be able to sleep even if he tried. He slipped out of bed and put on his blue silk nightgown, then tiptoed out of his room and along the halls of the palace, quietly walking past Sebastian's room, who was apparently and inexplicably fast asleep. When he reached the door that led to the gardens, Kurt briefly thought of running away, his hand still on the handle. But where would he go? He had no money, no fighting skills, nothing but his innocence and his flourishing beauty, things many people would pay for. At the end of the day, he would probably end up in a worse situation than the one he was currently in.

"Pre-marriage anxiousness, my dear?" whispered a voice from behind, smooth like silk.

Kurt turned around to find Sandy looking at him, standing a few feet away with a lit candle in his hand, the light casting a sinister glow around them and on his round, old face. But the man's expression was soft and sleepy, and Kurt was tired to be so wary around him.

"Sort of" he said, biting his lower lip. Sandy smiled.

"Let's take a walk" he suggested, approaching Kurt and hooking an arm through his. Kurt let himself be led, and to his surprise, the man pushed the door open and let it softly close behind them. They were outside, the gardens dark and still like a cemetery, the absence of the wind allowing the candle in Sandy's hand to stay lit a bit more. Kurt looked at it and thought of his innocence, his freedom: morning would come soon and they would be gone, like that little, fragile flame. A bit more, just a little bit more, he thought.

They walked down the main staircase, reaching the point from which Khal Blaine had looked at his very soul not many days before, and then walked some more. Sandy stopped at the far end of the gardens, a balcony made of yellowish blocks of stone punctuated with green spurts of vegetal life. A sudden gust of wind blew the candle out.

"So, what is it that's bothering you, my dear?" Sandy asked.

Kurt's eyes slowly got used to the darkness, and suddenly the moon and the stars were bright enough to see the man he was talking to and distinguish the waves of the narrow sea in front of them. The sounds of the Dothraki feast still reached his ears, but he could hear the water crashing against the cliffs if he focused long enough.

"I don't even know him" he said, helplessness clear in his voice. He didn't know why he said that, among the many things he could complain about. The hurt of being sold like an object by his own brother. The thought of losing his innocence soon. The impossibility of doing it with someone he'd chosen.

Sandy looked at him with something like pity and, Kurt thought for the first time, affection in his eyes. He wasn't the mellifluous man he seemed to be around Sebastian. Maybe he cared.

"I don't know much about Khal Blaine, but I could tell you something, if you want."

Kurt nodded. It wouldn't help that much in the end, but at least it was something. Sandy remained silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"He is feared and respected by his khalasar, but it's perfectly normal for a Khal; they're no merciful kings, dear boy, they can't be. But Khal Blaine... he is an exception. I'm sure you could find the reason, if you thought about it long enough."

Kurt tried to, he really tried; but he wasn't an expert of Dothraki culture, far from it. He knew close to nothing. He just knew they were the cruel, uncivilized people of the horses, that they didn't understand the concept of money nor that of kindness and love. He knew they spent their time terrorizing villages, robbing, killing, raping their inhabitants. He shook his head, feeling a bit stupid, and Sandy smiled.

"He is the first Khal to ever marry another man, my dear."

"Oh" Kurt said, surprised. "I thought-"

"You thought your inclination was considered normal among the Dothraki. Well, it is. Some people say they also have other inclinations, since they seem to worship horses so much, but I never give credit to the ignorant chitchat I overhear in the market streets. But Khals, they marry for one thing and that only: to have heirs. And that, my dear, is something I'm afraid you'll never be able to give him."

Kurt furrowed his brow, confusion clouding his mind.

"I don't understand. Why is he marrying me, then? Why isn't he marrying a woman and just... sleeping with men in secret?" he said, blushing at the idea. And if the mere idea of sex between two men embarrassed him, he really had a long way to go.

"That is why he's so exceptional: he doesn't want to." Sandy's expression got sad after that. "That doesn't mean he won't have heirs, of course. He has a responsibility toward his khalasar. I'm afraid he won't be the most faithful of husbands, sweet boy."

Frankly, Kurt couldn't find it in himself to be jealous of someone he didn't want in the first place, so he just shrugged.

"I guess it's fine" he said simply. A pause. "I think I'll try to sleep now. Tomorrow will be a long day."

He turned around to walk back to the palace, but when he didn't hear Sandy's steps behind him, he turned around again. The man was watching him with a thoughtful expression.

"You know something else" Kurt said, and it wasn't a question.

"Yes" Sandy said. "But I don't know if it's a good idea to tell you."

"Please" Kurt whispered, hoping Sandy could see his pleading eyes. "I want to know as much as I can, even the scary part. I want to be prepared."

The truth was that he was terrified. Terrified of discovering something tragic and horrific, some anecdote about Khal Blaine slitting little kids' throats in their sleep.

Sandy sighed, his shoulders slumping, his face becoming serious and solemn all of a sudden.

"I said he is feared and respected by his khalasar, but it was an understatement. He is feared by the other Khals, too. He is probably the most feared Khal in Dothraki history, but it has nothing to do with the tattoos he has on his skin."

Kurt felt the cold grip of dread choking him, his throat dry.

"...why, then?"

Another pause. Kurt wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Because he killed his own father. And that, my dear, is something that haunts even the bravest Dothraki's nightmares. There's nothing scarier than a man who murdered his own blood."

Kurt wasn't a brave Dothraki. He wasn't even a brave human being. So that would certainly haunt his sleep that night.


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He didn't remember getting dressed. He didn't remember leaving Sandy's palace. He didn't remember saying goodbye to someone, but that was probably because he didn't.

He just knew that he was outside of Pentos, the city that had been his safe place for so long, sitting on a little pile of leather cushions next to a man he'd have to call "husband". The wedding didn't entail romantic vows and memorized promises, something Kurt was actually grateful for. He had simply been led over a little elevated stage made of wood, where the Khal was already sitting, and then a sort of Dothraki witchdoctor had said unintelligible things while a drum beat, and that was that.

Khal Blaine didn't say a word to him. Kurt knew the king didn't know his language, just like he didn't know how to speak Dothraki, but his husband didn't even try. He'd just looked at Kurt with his piercing eyes while he climbed up towards him, his jaw set in a strong line of mild satisfaction, but he hadn't turned around after Kurt had sat. Apparently, the wedding itself was more interesting than his husband, because the Khal had only eyes for the celebration.

It was a bursting of sounds and voices, the drums beating and beating without a single pause, their players never tired. Around the circular space left empty in front of the wooden stage, there were the tents of the khalasar, and its components gathered to watch in awe and delight while a few of them danced in the middle of it to please their king. Or kings. Kurt didn't think they could ever see him as their king. They all had dark skin and dark hair, their bodies muscular and intimidating, while he was so pale and weak.

Men and women danced a dance without moves, as if driven by the simple beating of the drums together with that of their hearts; they stomped to the ground and gravitated around one another, clapping their hands, laughing, shouting things he couldn't understand. He cast a glance to Khal Blaine and saw that one of his feet was following the music, too, a smile grazing his lips while he lifted a cup of honey-flavored milk to drink from it.

From aside, and from up close, his hair seemed darker, his muscles thicker, his tattoos more complicated and his beauty, the beauty of everything that is yet to be tamed and conquered and probably will never be, took Kurt's breath away even in spite of everything.

On the same wooden stage, but on a lower level, sat Sandy and Sebastian. They were drinking wine and eating fruits and cheeses and Kurt managed to catch something of their conversations once in a while.

"When will this nonsense be over? I'm sick of seeing these savages dance, I want the khalasar to pack things up and start marching toward the narrow sea" he heard Sebastian say at one point.

"Patience, my lord" Sandy cooed. "Dothraki do things at their own pace. The khal will want to pay his homage to the holy city of Vaes Dothrak before keeping his promises to you."

Kurt had no idea what that even meant, and besides, he didn't care. He just knew that as soon as the wedding celebration would be over, he'd have to ride with the khal towards a secluded place nearby and give himself up to him like a sacrificial goat.

He shifted his attention back to the dance just in time to see a man dancing around a woman with a smirk on his face, before settling himself behind her, bending her in half on the ground, and taking her right then and there for everyone to see, her leather skirt covering the act. Shocked, he found himself unable to look away, blushing furiously as the man pounded into her and their moans and cries got lost under the never-ending beating of the drums.

Right after his release, the man was pulled away from her by another one, who apparently thought it was his turn. The first man pushed him away and took a long, curved knife out of his satchel, and when they began to fight, moving their weapons in the air, other men all around them decided to do the same.

Kurt didn't understand. Was it something planned? Was it just for the fun of it, with no real intention of hurting or killing?

Judging by the expression on Khal Blaine's face, his eyes black and hooded and a chuckle escaping his mouth every now and then, it was certainly supposed to be fun.

But the answer came to Kurt pretty soon, when the first man died. His stomach cut in half, he crumpled to the ground like a broken doll in a pool of blood, the Dothraki bursting in a choir of shouts and laughs. Khal Blaine grinned and took another sip from his cup.

"A Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is considered quite boring, my lord" he heard Sandy explaining to Sebastian, who gaped at him before bursting in a wholehearted laugh. Kurt didn't share the sentiment, but judging by the number of men who were falling one by one, at least his wedding wouldn't be remembered as boring. Lucky him.

His attention was finally drawn away from the killings by a man approaching the stage. He had dark hair and a puffy, trusting face, but the golden armor he was wearing was slightly intimidating. Kurt recognized him: the knight he'd seen at Sandy's palace.

The man crouched at the base of the stairs and looked at him, holding a pile of books in front of him for Kurt to see.

"My name is Finn Hudson, from the Bear Island, and I am here to serve you, khalees, as I am serving your khal with my tongue when he can't speak our language and my sword when the situation requires it. My wedding gift to you is poor, but I hope you'll like it: tales and stories from the Seven Kingdoms, the home you never got to know."

The kindness was so welcomed and pleasing to his lonely heart that Kurt stood up and smiled.

"Thank you from the deepest of my heart, ser. I gladly accept your services, as well as your gift. Please, put it here next to me."

Kurt sat again and Finn Hudson crouched some more, before doing as he'd been told. Then, he left the stage and positioned himself next to Sandy, but standing up, as if he was protecting them all. Kurt sort of liked the feeling, even if there were things he couldn't be protected from.

Other gifts came: a knife similar to those he had seen in the fights – arakhs, he discovered – and many vests and skirts in the Dothraki fashion, from skins of various animals.

Even Sebastian, unexpectedly, gave him one. Or three, to be precise.

"These are Rachel and Mercedes, sweet brother; I bought them personally so they could serve you" he announced, gesturing to two young girls, probably his age, standing at his sides with their heads bowed. They wore thick iron collars around their necks: slaves. One had long, brown hair and white skin, a shade darker than Kurt's; the other one was even darker than the Dothraki, with plush lips and full cheeks. Sebastian knew perfectly well Kurt's opinion on slavery, but he seemed quite pleased with himself nonetheless.

Then, he gestured to another girl, who appeared from the Dothraki crowd: a beautiful body curved in all the right places, barely covered, with dark hair falling on her shoulders.

"And this" Sebastian said with a playful smirk "is Santana. She'll teach you the art of pleasing men."

Santana bowed her head, but Kurt could swear she was smirking, too.

Once the slaves were taken away, it was Sandy's turn. He positioned a closed chest in front of Kurt and opened it, revealing its content. Kurt blinked and took a closer look.

"They are fossilized dragon eggs, khalees, turned into stone by the centuries. They come from Asshai by the Shadows."

"They're beautiful" Kurt whispered, captivated.

They were. Three perfect globes, covered in hard scales of different colors – black, gold and green –, each one reflecting the sunlight in its own particular way.

I am the blood of the dragon, he thought. Those fossilized eggs, memories of what could have been, would give him strength.

"Thank you, so much" he said to Sandy, who smiled and went back to his place.

Kurt's happiness was short-lived, because the music suddenly came to a halt when the khal stood up. The silence ringing in Kurt's ears, as if still echoing of the beating drums, seeped in his bones and made him freeze, as if he was stuck to where he was sitting. For the first time in hours, Khal Blaine turned around and looked at him, offering him his hand.

Kurt wanted to run away and cry like a baby, but he wasn't a baby anymore. The anxiousness making him numb, he took the offered hand and stood up, climbing down the stairs with his husband. Together, they crossed the empty space and walked through the crowd of Dothraki, which opened up to them as if split in two by an invisible blade. The khal stopped right in front of a beautiful white horse with silver hair, the reins held by another Dothraki.

"It's his gift to you" a voice said. Kurt didn't turn around; he knew it was Sandy.

Khal Blaine walked him to the horse, took him by the waist as if he weighed nothing, and lifted him up to put him on the horse. Kurt wasn't great at riding, but he knew the basics, so he positioned himself in the right way. He petted the animal, the skin smooth and soft, and pale like him in a sea of dark-haired horses. He turned toward Sandy.

"How do Dothraki say thank you?" he asked.

"They don't" was the simple answer.

Finn Hudson came closer and said:"He will took it as an offense, if you don't go for a ride on it. Come back in a couple of minutes, don't go too far where he can't see."

Kurt nodded and complied, taking hold of the reins. The ride was brief and slow-paced, but the wind blowing through his hair and the sudden distance from everything else gave him a welcomed sense of peace. For a moment, Kurt was free.

When he came back, he knew what was next. His legs shook when he jumped to the ground.

The crowd cheered and clapped when Khal Blaine, now sitting on his horse, offered him a hand to make Kurt climb behind him on the animal. Kurt did.

"Make him happy" Sebastian whispered, patting his thigh.

They rode in silence, the sun setting over the horizon, the world drowning in orange, pink and red. Kurt held himself still, gripping his husband's hips, and closed his eyes.