Secured
Even the Witchers are the archetypes for the voluntary mutant Dragons of fables. One and the same, just as Daemon brought Boromir as the secret bounty for the Stark family. He was having the strangest dream, aloft him, there were Green Elves, upon each limb, encumbered by the tithes, hooded and ready to strike. The trees were ominous, and the runes were shining and aglow. All around him, was the war for the hearts of Man. Among the tree branches, there was his answer. The easiest thing is to let it go. The life that will say to you, eternally, infinitely, that I won’t be your shadow. I shall not live in one, I shall leave it, but still, I am to stay where I was, when you are gone.
For the North remembers and the Elves never forget even a single detail, and they cannot die, but from the emotions they may fade, and that is what is prompting even the Greatest of all Elves, to protect its descendants, no matter how evil it was, even that shall be, one day, as all faults and blunders, taken care of, leaving the wronged to have another chance, as Gollum did. From names that the history does remember, never blood, to never returning what is taken, what is stolen, what is of one Elf, it is of all. Why is that? If something happens to you, what can some other hope for, if it comes about as the same, and there are things which are supervened, and you do not have the prudence of why it is like that. What is the objective of the meaning, and what is the meaning without the emotional connection? It was all besieging him, he was beset from all sides, beleaguered by the notion that out there, there is the finest line that waits for him.
That is speaking just to him, that when all Suns are receded and when the light tapers off, it is then, and only then, it remits the frozen feelings. Sharing the fate of Wolves, while Dragons were on their own. Lone as the Wolves that chose that it is for the best of them when they remove themselves from all questions which are weighing us down. Love while you still can, and curse when you die. There are those who blaspheme the existing of the beings, and there are all those that are damning the perception of the death, but it is just the exit from surviving it all.
He opens his eyes, again, it was another day. He survived it. They didn’t find him, he was holed up so deep, burrowed ever profounder, that there is no way that they could find him, not even the face that was jutting out. Cloaked by the thin layer of the grains which were in his nostrils, in his crammed mouth with nothing but the dryness. He was upending himself, with the forceful strengths of his, there was no cold, he was as the frosted desert that was laying siege on him. Even when he was nude, it was still hot. Yet. He had nothing, nothing at all, but the life that was hanging on the thread. No clothes, no food and no water, all inside him was the mushy viscera and pulpy inwards that were growling.
It was fascinating to see how one Dragon can make a difference, the one that is the same with his Dragon that flew him over, and they never stop, they shall never give up. What is there, really? Ah, how did he look like? Feasibly, as bad as he felt, as bad as he did look for real. Under all the tormenting pangs upon him, here he is, still standing up. Looking around, you never know when some flap or the lapping wings shall show up, the shadow, the talons, the voice, all that unfurls when Dragons appear, as unfolding their rolled up flaps. Oh, well, he has got to move. He shall spot something, even this wasteland has the end, everything that is a waste, it has the beauty of the one that no one speaks about. He was rather hellbent to find it out. He was set to do it, made it and intent on doing it, again and again. When all of a sudden, something did have his dry attention, and something he did catch sight of. He went down, around one of the dune humps. Was it the barrowed land? How the Dragon was sleeping in? They were so close?! Oh, well, he completed his craft, and the art of stealth, ha! They couldn’t sight him, even if they longed. From behind, one independent Dragon was leering at him, along with his Dragon rider. He turns around, steadily.
- Well, well, well - young Dragon Prince Exalior, with his Beauty that is excelling even the gentlest violet, the one that is named by the people themselves, the much younger generation than that when Meraxes, Mera, was the only Lady of the violet skies, presently, at this moment, is ushering into the 4th Age, the most bona fide one, for the life does change, a twist of stroke, in the blink of an eye, as if it was a hundred years for the Elf, they had time, people do forget it, failing to recall it, they let it slip from their minds and the lovelorn hearts that are longing for the delivery – what a coincidence, and we were searching just for you. Daario Naharis – the assassin wasn’t sure what to do next? Neither how to behave or what to do? How to proceed from here? He doesn’t have any weaponry. With what he can conduct himself, he is too tired to even make some of his stunts or acrobatics, some tumbling or the nimbleness, naught, he had naught, these youngish Dragons carried themselves as the Lord and the Lady of the wide azure, the yonder of the entrancing, and they even bore themselves similarly. They weren’t demeaning him. In any way belittling, but there was that glaring stare. The leering.
- So, what do we do now? Where do we go from here? Since it is comical to deem diversely. It is your choice. Either way, easy or the hard, it doesn’t make any of the alterations to us. Isn’t that right? Rightfully to even converse like this? Because, I have something far better in my mind, if you would allow me to nurture you. Since, well, you do seem as someone that needs a helping hand. Badly – the flaring silver strings of fate and a Dragon helm, a red cape and the mantled warrior of the fabling realities, this was the certainty, he was caught, but not yet, seized. The humanoid Dragon was careful with him. That much was certain. He glared at the Dragon. Then at him, both were still. Waiting his move.
- Are you to bind me or in any way, silence? – Solely if you are wishing it, nothing shall be done against your will. – You maniac. Look at the state I am, you were after me like I am some animal, and you scoured my life like it is nothing. – When a Dragon has a sight on the particular someone, yes, your old life ends and the new starts with us – he winks, unnerving him. The blood is unremembered, but a spirit continued, alone!
When he takes a second look, a better one, Daario Naharis could deem that this one wasn’t the ordinary Dragon Lord. He met from faraway, the Ladies as well, even the Tamers, and the captains of their squads, but this one, was something that is between too human, and too serpent-like, he wasn’t the hybrid or his Dragon was the one, even though, even in Wolves, you have those who are turning into humanoids, but there was the mystery about him and the sand was complementing his silver beauty. He didn’t seem as someone who hurts people, that is a concern.
- If I were a purple monster, immerse yourself in my lavender glare, deep and dusky, for there is nothingness for you. I am the only one, with my dear baby, that is left for you, so easily to have such notions, so it would be even easier to believe that you may even slay me? Do not fail to miss, I do read you when you are in such a shape, your condition may improve if you let me have you, mutually with my Dragon one, what do you think about it?! Hm?! – damn, his mind shields. – It is the actual actuality. You men are natural, unlike self-learning women, but once the ladies do master it, they are uplifted, but you are down as soon as you are claimed. – I am not claimed! Who placed a claim upon me and my life?
- You are looking at the man. – Just as there is the blood that is passed down, and so, I do have the spiritual heirs that shall avenge me! – Avenge you? I do not want to burn you, I want to love you, and I already said, we can do it the hard or the easy way, either way, it shall be a relish to break you for me. So tame – he licks his plentiful lips, for they had plenty to offer. – Stop staring at me like that, even tell it to your Dragon, he may even devour… - She, and no, she won’t gorge on you, unless, you want it too.
- Leave me alone! – That won’t do. You are to belong to us. – No, I do not! – Look at your awkward situation. You are hampered with shits, and I may assist you. – You put me in this crap. – Oh, no. I am your friend! – And your dragon still leers at me, tell her to stop! – She is my Dragon girl, and you are our prey. – She acts abnormally. – You are the blessed man, she may even nest with you, you are so savory-looking man, and it is a pity, you do not long for some gag or bonds, they would look delightfully on you, not to mention, even being in bondage, would make you blossom the flowerets and florets. – No, and no. Stop it, right now!
- But you did enjoy it. What is a life without some spice in it? The thrill of the hunt, we are both similarly reflecting. And my silver saddle awaits. – I am not going anywhere with you two, even if it means, that I am ending my life here. – So poignant, ah. Do I irk you so? And you are not mistaken, you do not have anywhere but into my waiting arms and to lean your head onto my Dragon chest. – Fuck you! – Oh, that is something, that I may grant in an instant. You shall be fucked, from in and out, and you wouldn’t even know what hit you. – Never! Who sold me out and for what? – Like I said, it won’t do – Exalior prepares one long strip of the fabric, while still having the terrific discussion with his future bonded and marked mate – you shall be so loved and filled. – Tell me – he is to lose his self and the balanced mind, the Dragon was threateningly hovering at him. If he even tries something…Exalior was ignoring that trifling scenario with the Dragon and the man. All that is a pleasure, it must indeed end. – You talk too much. I may fix it. I see the longing, when I meet one, even when you are daubed in sand, you look beautiful – Daario is jostled, plodding away, only for a Dragon to be onto him, if he moved.
It was over. He knew that much, for the time being. He had no means, no weapons, no nothing, his usual tricks won’t do, and even if they did, he was too jaded, and still, even when he was insulting both the Dragon and his rider, he was treated with nothing, but with the high favor. He was favored, and in the eyes of any Targaryen Elf, the Targaryen Dragons, he would be already owned, and there is nothing he can do. For now. Exalior was before him, he tightened the flanking sides of each of the cottony track, to be indulged, in both the silk and the filling diamonds, and to be redone in the fire and blood, lavished by the Moon and Stars. He glimpses at the Dragon, it was the serious matter. After a minute or two, he opens his hungry and thirsty mouth, which Dragons have every intention to sate, but firstly, the man is too pernicious to keep him unrestrained, stuffing him and silencing, even roping his trained hands. Tossing him over.
*
- You shall be preserved strongly – he stroked him while sheeting him to the silver saddle, making him comfier, kissing a gagged mouth. – We shall get rid of that smell, you shall be yourself.
*
Upon the mounting, they were off into the open air, whiles the assassin was unaware how much he was tiring himself, he slept like a baby, whilst the Dragon was leading them elsewhere safe!
*
By the way, I am Exalior, this is my Beauty. Even my Elf ears are sensitive upon the touch.