Hoshor Plains Khaleesi

The new Khaleesi watched her Khal with a careful eye. Though he stood strong and mighty before her, the maiden could detect a new fatigue brewing amongst his handsome face. He was at war with his daughter. The picture of Zhavvi struggling like a trapped snake beneath Rakharo’s hold was still vivid in her mind, as was the sentiment of her own inadequacy. Should she have taken up arms and confronted the irate yearling before her people? A Khaleesi was supposed to be deliberate and aggressive in times of need, but Vitihi doubted her own ability. It was quite possible she would have ended up in the dirt should she have decided to attempt putting the venomous yearling in her place.

Even though she was troubled, Rakharo’s softened face eased her worries. At first her orange gaze fluttered away, unaccustomed to this change. “My Khal, you have honored me,” she replied automatically with a robotic tone. A proper response. Yet, the maiden knew it wasn’t how Rakharo wished her to behave… or how she should behave. It was difficult for her, however, to be candid with the great ruler. The tides were turning all at once.

Slowly, her head turned back to him, thinking how to embrace this drastic new role. Though she had willed Zhavvi’s words to not become weapons, she still felt the sting of the girl’s claims. Rakharo had named her his bride for a reason. She fit the circumstance of the Khalasar’s dire situation. Vitihi had not earned this place as tradition had decreed… but was there any alternative?

She swallowed hard, feeling very small amongst the great Rhoa. “I have fear, Rakharo,” she told him, fiery gaze becoming lost in the golden waves of his pelt. “I fear of failing my people and fear dishonoring you,” she bit her lip, pale face lifting to better read his expression. “But I would carry the sun if you asked it of me,” she told him, “even if it burned all the fur off my back.” She shifted a bit closer to him with a coy turn of her shoulder and watch rays of sun catch his silhouette.