Sweet Sister

Chapter 8

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The sound of hood beats wake Rhae up from her deep slumber, followed by the sounds of the masculine voices of the bloodriders. She slowly sits up, and starts rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. A few torches begin to pass her tent, more following shortly after the first batch. The yells become more panicked, and the sounds of the Dothraki's war cries and blades crashing into each other pierce the night air.

Rhae jumps out of bed, icy blue eyes wide at the sudden realization; they're under attack.

The yells of the Dothraki's victims start to multiply by the second, as well as the hoofbeats of horses. Rhae hurries to the chest her dragon egg is and grabs it, as well as a satchel made of horse skin to stash it in.

She stuffs the egg inside and swings the satchel over her shoulder before making a b-line for the exit. When she finally swipes the tent flap, Rhae gasps sharply, eyes widening even more in horror.

Tents are on fire, screams of the fallen echo, horse running every which way and screaming, people fighting everywhere she turned. But the worst part, is the smell of burnt flesh and blood that suffocates her.

Rhae stands just outside her tent, frozen and unsure of where to go and what to do. Sure, she's good at fighting, but not killing. She's never killed anyone, and she doesn't plan on starting today. Taking a deep breath, Rhae re-situates the strap of the satchel on her shoulder before she darts off in the direction of where there's less commotion.

She doesn't get far before she's stopping in her tracks. Daenerys. "Oh, no .  .  ." she muttered under her breath, already spinning around, head snapping and eyes darting around.

Rhae's heart pumps increasingly faster. She turns on her heels, sprinting towards her sister's tent, hearing nothing but the sound of her own heartbeat.

Rhae opens the tent flap and immediately regrets it; she wasn't thinking about the high possibility of someone being inside her tent. Two men are inside, rummaging through her and Drogo's things. They each stop what they're doing and stand up from their kneeling positions —grabbing their swords in the process— and turn to face her.

The two men share a quick glance before they're looking at Rhae, smirking. The men slowly advance and raise their swords a little.

With each step the men take towards Rhae, she takes that many back, until she's backing into a hard surface. She spins, looking up into the eyes of another, much larger man whose eyes are already on her. He looks Rhae up and down with hunger in his eyes, and he, too, smirks.

The large man clamps his hand roughly around Rhae's left arm that causes her satchel to slide off her right shoulder. She tries to wiggle her arm free, but his grip only tightens.

Rhae uses her free hand to slap the man across the face. Her face falls, worst mistake ever .  .  .

The man grabs the Rhae slapped him with and brings it back down to her side as she continues to fight out of his grip. He starts to pull her towards Daenerys's bed, and her eyes widen in realization.

Rhae fights harder to get free from his hard grip, but it was no use. Having had enough of her struggles, the man back hands Rhae, and she falls to the floor in front of the other two men, her cheek stinging —but that was the least of her worries.

The two men are quick to grab each of Rhae's arm, each of them holding one above her head. The larger man that smacked her to the floor of her sister and Drogo's tent, smiles wickedly, beginning to undo his pants. Once finished, he gets down on his knees, beginning to lift her night dress up.