The Last Dragons, Ch. 1 Of Pale Moonlight
Title: The Last Dragons
Series: A Song of Ice and Fire
Characters: Viserys Targaryen, Daenerys Targaryen
Rating: T
Warnings: none
Status: WIP
Offsite: fanfiction.net | AO3 | dreamwidth |
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are property of George R. R. Martin. This is just a tribute to Game of Thrones.
Chapter 1: Of Pale Moonlight
In the end she decides to employ Ser Jorah's services and asks him to locate her brother. She does not know where he sleeps these nights since they fought.
She feels that it is not her duty to look after him. She is the Khaleesi, married to Khal Drogo. She is the one being looked after.
And after he attacked her, she is asking herself why she even allows him to live.
She doesn't need him like before… She has her sun-and-stars now. Her sun-and-stars who holds her close each night and murmurs "my little moon" in Dothraki.
And what did Viserys ever say to her?
Her thoughts are interrupted by Ser Jorah's return. He tells her that her brother is not in the camp, that he had to walk a little way off before he could spy the fire which Lord Viserys had lighted to warm himself for the night.
He was alone, Ser Jorah said.
Strange, I didn't think he could do that. Light a fire on his own? Didn't he usually have slaves to do his bidding?
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She calls her handmaidens to her and asks them to draw a bath for her. The bath is hot, close enough to scald her delicate skin. It is scented in oils and she slowly steps into the water.
Fire.
Her handmaidens step closer to her and take hold of her arms. They begin to gently rub and wipe the dirt off her pale skin.
Daenerys quietly observes them. She watches them remove the dust which almost always stuck to her after the journey on horseback and gradually her immaculate skin meets her eyes.
White skin. Pale as the moon.
She smiles, she understands fully why her sun-and-stars calls her that.
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Her bath is finished. Her handmaidens cover her with fur and she holds it close to dry her body.
Within it, she remembers the feeling of being Dothraki. Of being held close by Khal Drogo. Of riding on silver. She relishes the feeling of being loved.
Her handmaidens move to put oil on her body but she shakes her head no.
"There is no need for that", she softly says and smiles at them. They nod and begin working on her hair.
They are untangling the strands in her hair when one of her handmaidens say: "You have beautiful hair, Khaleesi."
"Thank you", Daenerys replies and reaches out to touch her platinum-white hair. Her eyes follow her hands and she notices the beginnings of little calluses on her palms.
Calluses from the reins. I am beginning to be Dothraki.
These thoughts cross her mind and she takes delight in them.
She looks at her palms and fingers. They were long and graceful.
Like Viserys'.
The thought comes unbidden into her mind. She looks back at her hands.
She recalls the fight they had, of her shouting to him that if he ever touched her again he would have no hands.
She saw the look on his face. His pale beautiful face, so much like her own. The look of pain and hurt…and betrayal.
Blood.
He was bleeding from the wound where the belt had hit him.
Blood of the dragon.
He is a shadow of a snake not a dragon, she recalls Ser Jorah's remark.
Khal Rhae Mhar, the Sorefoot King. Khal Rhaggat, the Cart King. That is how the Dothraki call him.
Yet he calls himself the dragon.
What is he to her?
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Daenerys decides to go to her brother.
She rummages in one of the satchels which hold possessions which are special to her. Her hand touches a soft silken material, cool to the skin, and she smiles.
Perhaps this will do.
She remembers his accusing words, "You presume to dress me now?"
And the ensuing argument between them.
She hesitates a moment, afraid of her brother's reaction to her intrusion on his sleep. But then she
remembers his bleeding face.
Blood of the dragon.
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He does not have a tent. He is lying on the ground.
Strange. He does not like the earth yet he sleeps on it.
Viserys is lying on his side facing the fire. His left hand curved on his sword.
She slowly approaches him. Afraid that he might wake up at the sound of her footsteps.
You would awaken the dragon?
Her garments barely make a sound, soft as they are. She is facing him now. Her back to the fire.
Her eyes trace his eyebrows, his nose, the downward curve of his mouth.
She realizes that it is a long time since she has seen him smile at her kindly.
His brows are beginning to knit on his forehead. He seemed to be having a nightmare.
Slowly, tentatively, she reaches out her hands to touch him.
Her touch on his hand seems to calm him. His brows are no longer drawn together and she notices
the wound which she inflicted on him.
Blood.
Blood of the dragon.
I am the dragon.
He is always reminding her. Yet his words do not affect her now.
She is no longer bound to him, but to another. She is bound to Khal Drogo, a man who loves her
and calls her his little moon.
And what does Viserys call her? What does he think of her?
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She is nothing more than a trade for the Dothraki army who will besiege the Seven Kingdoms and take back the Iron Throne. Viserys certainly does not hesitate to remind her that.
All her life she was taught to follow Viserys' commands. And she did not question it. Viserys was her only family. He took care of her and he taught her about their heritage as the Targaryens, the Dragons.
Dany, we are descended from dragons. You and I.
Long ago, Aegon and his sisters, Rhaenys and Visenya, sailed from Dragonstone to conquer the
Seven Kingdoms.
They each had a dragon with them, Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhaghar. Aegon was the first Dragon and his sisters were his wives.
Our father was the last true king of the Seven Kingdoms, before he was betrayed by his Kingsguard. Remember this.
I am the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms and I will take back my birthright when the time is right. And then you will be my queen, Daenarys Stormborn.
She finds herself slowly trailing his brows with her fingertips. Her hands lightly tracing his forehead and moving on to touch his hair.
His platinum-white hair. So much like her own.
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Fanfic Navigation Links:
Chapter 1: (You are here)
Chapter 2: Remember, Viserys
Chapter 3: An Old Dark Cloth
Chapter 4: A Golden Crown
Chapter 5: A Slight Hiss