A Dream of a Red Door Ch. 03

"My people will find me."

"Your people hate you," he snarled, and for the first time he sounded angry. "You have accomplished much, Daenerys Stormborn, but you have always been blind to how you appear to others. You may be the hero of your own story, but for most of the world, you are a villain." He sighed. "That is enough for now. I have unexpectedly urgent business to attend to, and another wishes to have some time alone with you ... I would not deny her that pleasure."

He walked over to the kneeling woman, looked down, and spoke, "I was greatly hoping to watch this, but I must confer with the captain and I am already late." His next remarks were given in a stern, threatening manner, "No marks, do you understand me? Anything else you wish, her body is yours, but she is to remain unblemished."

"Yes," said a soft voice that Daenerys immediately found familiar.

No ... it can't be.

Xaro walked towards her and then swept around the pillar, clearly intent on ascending the same stairs that the knife-wielding sailor had used. "Your former handmaiden wishes to continue her instruction of you," he informed her. "I am sure you will be a most attentive student."

Xaro vanished out of sight.

The woman stood up and turned around, and a tight ball of rage immediately formed in Daenerys's chest.

Doreah.

Neither of them said anything for a long time. Daenerys, because she was too angry that the bitch who betrayed her cause was still alive, and Doreah because she appeared to be too busy smiling at Daenerys. Eventually, Daenerys began to puzzle at the expression.

What is wrong with her?

It was Daenerys who spoke first. "I suppose you have a speech prepared as well?"

Doreah shook her head. "No speeches, that is for Xaro." She glanced towards the back of the cargo hold as if to confirm that he was gone. "He spoke truth, by the way. About the fate he has planned for you."

I rather thought he was.

"Whatever his plans are, they do not matter," she informed Doreah. "Destiny rides with me, not with Xaro Xhoan Daxos."

Doreah's eyes were sad as she gazed down at her. "Destiny already happened for you, khaleesi. Your fate is no longer in the hands of the gods, it is in the hands of Xaro."

Daenerys couldn't help herself, she yanked at the chains a few more times. Her knees were beginning to ache in truth, and the iron collar around her neck didn't allow her room to maneuver away from the pole at her back and find a more comfortable position.

This will be torture, soon.

Doreah stepped closer. The beautiful handmaiden wore a midriff baring halter top with straps crossing over each shoulder above a long, flowing dress that reached to mid-calf. Her top and dress were woven from the same cloth, silver and gold fibers threaded together in equal measures. For a moment, Daenerys idly wondered if Doreah realized how similar the color of the fabric was to the shade of Daenerys's hair. The woman was as beautiful as ever, slim and lithe, and her darting, lively eyes still sparkled above a soft smile.

"Xaro commanded that I could treat you any way I saw fit so long as I do not mark you," Doreah said. She glanced about, seemingly nervous, then continued in a conspiratorial whisper, "I have no way to free you, but I would not see you suffer."

Daenerys blinked in surprise at the unexpected words.

What?

Doreah grabbed two large pillows, then climbed onto the pillar's metal stand and crouched down next to her. Her movements were strangely gentle as she helped Daenerys raise first one knee, then the other, so that the pillow could slide beneath them. After the brutal misery of kneeling on the steel, the cushion felt heavenly. If not for her treachery, Daenerys would have thanked the woman.

Doreah placed a second pillow on the platform and then sat upon it, folding her legs gracefully beneath her. Daenerys began to feel a different kind of worry at the unexpectedly friendly proximity of the traitor she'd left for dead.

Shouldn't she hate me?

She decided that her situation could not possibly get any worse, so she spoke the question on her mind. "Do you not hate me?"

Doreah reached out and brushed away a strand of hair that had worked its way out of Daenerys's braid and floated in front of her face. Daenerys tried to recoil from the outstretched hand, but the chain connecting her collar to the pole prevented her from dodging the unwanted touch. Doreah ignored her reaction and continued, "I hated you greatly for a long time, khaleesi," she admitted. "But no more."

"For locking you in the vault?" Daenerys asked. She couldn't help herself, she continued. "Death is the usual punishment for traitors."

Doreah laughed, and it was an oddly lyrical and sweet sound to be heard in such a horrible place. The ship swayed back and forth, the smell of the seawater filled Daenerys's nose, and her beautiful former handmaiden sat next to her on a pillow and giggled as if they were relaxing in a palace garden.

"I was not mad about the vault, Daenerys. I had betrayed you and it was your right. Besides, I knew I would not die within its walls."

Doreah switching the mode of address from her title to her name was not lost on Dany, but she decided not to object to the informality. "You were right, so long ago," Doreah carried on, "men who are happy do like to talk. I made Xaro very happy indeed, and one night he made it known to me that there was another way in and out of his treasure room. We acted the part of scared victims for your benefit, but we meekly walked in because we knew we would be walking out again."

Daenerys gritted her teeth in anger.

Jon would be very upset if he knew the kinds of punishments that I was dreaming up right now.

"It was before the vault that I came to hate you," Doreah said sadly. "Do you wish to know why?" Her voice was low, and gentle. She reached up and straightened the shoulder of

Daenerys's gown where the gold clasp had twisted.

She dressed me.

Daenerys was stunned she hadn't realized it immediately. Doreah had dressed her in the manner in which she'd appeared in Qarth, when they had wandered Xaro's palace together. No one else would have known how to garb her so perfectly, or to identify the perfume, or select which face paints to use.

She twisted her head to look at Doreah and a terrible suspicion she refused to voice began to chime in the back of her mind. Daenerys forced down the notion and asked the question Doreah clearly wanted her to ask. "Why did you hate me?" she asked. "I gave you everything."

Doreah smiled sadly. "You were the Mother of Dragons. You were a khaleesi, you kept women from being harmed, you were ... good. I never knew what it was like to be treated well before you. My mother sold me, then I was sold to your brother, and then I was yours." She sighed and leaned her head to the side towards Daenerys. "Then, in Qarth, after you'd told me I didn't need to be a slave anymore, that I could be more than a man's plaything, when I had decided that you were the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me in my entire life, do you know what happened?"

Daenerys silently shook her head.

"You asked me to go sleep with men, many men, for information." An old wound bubbled in Doreah's voice. "You told me I was free, you made me feel important to you, then you asked me to sell my body again, not even for money, but for the chance that some old merchant might help you." Doreah bowed her head slightly.

Daenerys did remember now. "Why didn't you say something?" she asked. "I told you that you weren't a pleasure slave, that you had a choice."

"It was your asking that caused the pain," Doreah explained. "I smiled and made it seem I did not care, but inside, my heart broke, and I was angry at you, and then I sought out Xaro ..." she paused a moment, then continued, "but then I realized, later, that you did not mean to be cruel."

I need friends more than I need to tell Doreah what I think of her.

Doreah pulled her pillow closer so that it was touching Daenerys's, then she leaned her body against her. Daenerys leaned away, instead.

The handmaiden made a clucking noise of admonishment. "I know what it is like to be bound to a slave pillar in the exact way you are now, it becomes increasingly cruel over time. I do not wish to see you suffer needlessly, so do not be proud ... if you lean against me, it will be easier. Let me help you."

Daenerys reluctantly complied, and as much as she was loathe to admit it, the extra support eased the strain on her legs and back immensely.

"Do you know why I forgave you in my heart, Dany, long after you had left Qarth and I never thought to see you again?"

Daenerys mutely shook her head.

"I realized that you simply do not know what you do. Someone tells you no, so you threaten them. You believe it is your right to have something, so anyone who keeps it from you must be wrong. Or you need something, so you demand it, and if it is not given a person is evil, regardless of whether you had a right to the thing demanded. At first, I thought you did this because you did not care, that people like me did not matter to you, but then I realized that was not the reason at all. Do you know what the reason was?"

"No," Daenerys said flatly.

I might prefer it if Xaro came back.

Doreah continued, "It was because you were scared, and you were desperate, and so you did what you must. I do not think you would be like that if you were somewhere safe, where you were not always afraid."

"This is not that place," Daenerys pointed out.

"This is a bad place you have found yourself," Doreah agreed, "but I wish to help you ... in secret, of course. Xaro would hurt us both if he knew my true feelings."

Leave the pillow and go.

Daenerys rattled the manacles slightly. "If you wish to help me, can you not convince Xaro to loosen my chains, or perhaps you could unlock me for a time?"

Doreah shook her head. "I do not have the keys, and Xaro cannot be swayed to take pity on you ... he has been planning this for years and spent a sum you would not believe. Revenge has become his obsession. I lied to him that it was mine as well, and I think my pretending to share his hatred for you is why he tells me he loves me." She leaned towards her as if sharing a secret. "Many nights he has asked me to speak of the wicked things I will do to you when you are under his control, and my words heightened his pleasure immeasurably. After I go, you must act as if I had tormented you and keep my secret."

"Can you not help me escape?"

Doreah reached out to stroke her cheek, and this time Daenerys held still and allowed the woman to do so. "I have made friends with a certain trusted guardsman who will be tasked with guarding your cell most nights. We are very good friends, and he has promised to let me come to you when Xaro is away or asleep. There is a small garden near where you will be kept that we can sneak to, from time to time. I know what you like to eat and drink, and what your favorite clothes are. There is a fountain there that has sweet, cold water, and many nightbirds like to play in the water under the stars. Your life need not be so terrible."

This time, Doreah stroked her bare leg beneath her dress, high up on her thigh. Daenerys recoiled in revulsion, but there was no place to go, and she realized that it might not be a wise idea to antagonize the handmaiden.

Oh, no.

As the woman caressed her, Daenerys realized what Doreah desired. If Jon were there, she knew what he would say. He would have grabbed her shoulders and screamed, or fallen to his knees and begged, for her to set aside her pride and do whatever the woman wanted if it would help her stay safe and alive. Jon had told her the story of the death of Qhorin Halfhand and she knew that her husband understood the necessity of doing what was needed to survive.

She watched in the mirror as Doreah nestled closer. Daenerys's beautiful blue dress glimmered in the light cascading through the cargo hold roof, but she remained mostly concerned with the dull black metal that locked her limbs and neck into place. Doreah continued to lightly stroke her leg as she stared into her eyes.

"If Xaro suspects that I wish to help you, I will not be able to come to you at all, and he may do worse to me than lock me to a slave pillar. Will you keep my secret?"

The hand crept further beneath her dress, and Daenerys shifted uncomfortably.

I need to get away from this woman.

Doreah's breath was warm against Dany's cheek as she answered, "I will keep your secret," she promised. The next words were difficult to voice, but the last thing she needed was for Doreah to know her true feelings. "You were very ... special ... to me, and I see now that I abused your trust. I was thoughtless and careless with your affection. I am sorry, Doreah." She drew the woman's name out, letting the syllables slide off her tongue, and she lowered her voice to a murmur.

It was exactly how she said Jon's name when she wished to see him further excited.

Her words had the desired effect. Doreah pushed in closer still. Daenerys watched, wide-eyed in the mirror, as her former handmaiden curled around her side like a slithering snake.

"Do you need another pillow?" Doreah asked. "Are you thirsty? Xaro does not search my things, and I have brought onboard many bottles of wine that he does not know about. I hid one here, earlier this morning, while the men were preparing for the departure."

"Wine would be wonderful," Daenerys admitted. "Or maybe something to eat?" Her throat was parched and sore from the collar and chain, and she'd had nothing to drink or eat since the night before. Her back was cramping, and she began to wonder how long she'd been chained before she awoke.

Doreah eagerly stood up and scuttled to the back of the cargo hold. Daenerys took the opportunity to try to stretch her legs and arms. The position was rapidly growing strenuous, and beneath the dress, sweat was beginning to cling to her.

Bottle and goblet in hand, Doreah returned and eagerly sat back down on the pillow and pressed her body once more against her. The handmaiden held up her hand and to Daenerys's surprise a small rectangle of layered bread lay upon the palm.

Daenerys eyed it doubtfully.

"Xaro took his lunch in this hold, so he could watch me dress you and prepare your hair and face paints," she informed Daenerys. "This is what I was able to hide." She held up the bread. You need something to eat, and I do not know if I will be able to bring food into this place."

When Daenerys realized that Doreah was not going to place the bread in her mouth, she bent her head as far as the collar allowed, and her lips brushed against the woman's palm as she ate from her hand.

I'd ask her to move the mirror so I don't have to watch this, but I think she might not like that.

The bread was actually quite good, thick, sweet, and filled with dense, flavorful nuts. Daenerys swallowed the scrap of food and wished there was more. She cleared her parched throat, and Doreah held aloft a tall goblet that she'd filled near to the brim.

"Do not let the wine spill," Doreah said in a frightened tone. "Xaro has a sharper eye than you would expect, and if he notices a stain upon your dress, he will realize I disobeyed him."

Daenerys nodded her understanding. When the wine reached her lips, she found it cool and rich with dark fruits and hints of oak, a far finer vintage than she expected, and she gratefully drank ... and continued to drink as Doreah tilted the goblet far longer than she'd anticipated. The wine was much stronger than the light reds she preferred, and Daenerys could not recall wine that ever burned so heavily on the throat. It was not until the goblet was nearly empty that the former handmaiden finally pulled it away from her lips. Daenerys coughed a few times and felt the alcohol settle into her empty stomach. Her head was starting to swim.

Doreah had already poured more wine, and the handmaiden repeated the process of raising the goblet to Daenerys's mouth.

"Wait ..." Daenerys started to protest, then the goblet was once more tilted against her lips. She tried to convey with her eyes that she wished for Doreah to take the wine away, but the woman was determined, and yet again Daenerys was forced to drain the goblet.

When she'd finished drinking, Daenerys coughed in earnest, wracking heaves that rattled the chains at neck and wrists.

Doreah gently rubbed her back until the coughing fit stopped, then Doreah refilled the goblet and proceeded to drink deeply of the wine. "More?" she asked Daenerys as she held up the wine bottle questioningly.

"No, please!"

else will give you something to drink." She set the goblet and bottle far enough away that there was no danger of them accidentally toppling over.

"Thank you," Daenerys said. She forced the next words from her throat. "You are being very kind to me, when I was so horrible to you." She felt light-headed as the wine raced through her system.

Doreah's hand returned to her leg, and this time her fingers were very far up her thigh, near her waist. "I think, Dany," she murmured in a knowing whisper, "that what is happening right now is maybe not so strange to you."

Surprised, Daenerys snapped her head, as far as the collar around her neck would allow, towards Doreah. "What? What do you mean?"

Doreah smiled knowingly. "You are a queen, nobility of the highest sort, but I watched you in the mirror. You tested the chains a few times, and then were at ease. You did not fight and thrash and exhaust yourself, as Xaro expected. Such efforts are amusing to the captor, but pointless to the captive."

"I just don't feel struggling would get me anywhere," Daenerys spluttered. The wine was working its way through her system, and the cargo hold was starting to dance and sway. Sweat beaded on her brow.

Doreah bent to fill the goblet yet again. "We will talk more on this when you are ready to share truths."

"Doreah, really, I don't ..."

Then the metal rim of the goblet was pressed against her lips for the third time, and Daenerys's eyes bulged as she drank. Her throat was on fire, and a dribble almost fell from the corner of her lip, but Doreah was watching carefully, and she quickly brushed the drops away with her hand. Her fingers lingered next to Daenerys's mouth.

Mercifully, this time the handmaiden removed the goblet after only half a cup had been poured down her throat. Daenerys spluttered and shook in her chains as the alcohol burned through her system.

"The wine will help you relax," Doreah whispered into her ear. Daenerys shivered at the nearness of the woman's voice. "So long as I am careful, even if I cannot bring you water, you will have something to drink. I will take care of you."

I'm going to be very drunk soon.

She swayed with the motion of the ship, her stomach lurched as the wine sloshed within her, and she also felt very bold.

"Doreah," her words were slightly slurred, "you loved me, didn't you."

"Yes," the woman purred into her ear. "For all your gifts, khaleesi, it is remarked upon by many that you do not seem able to see yourself as others see you. How could someone look upon you and not love you?"

The hand was still upon her thigh as Doreah gently kissed her on the forehead.

I have to get out of here.

"I think now you are ready," Doreah continued. "We shall play the game of truths. Each of us will ask a question, and the other will answer truthfully." Her voice grew solemn. "It is a sin to lie during the game of truths, and I think I will know if you do."