( ACT I; sleeping dragon )
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chapter 5: a better king.

ARROGANTLY towering in the sky, two rearing horses of stone created an archway with their splayed legs above the moving Dothraki line. The statues' immense size and details were quite astonishing to Vaegon, whom had assumed the Dothraki were incapable of such a thing. He gazed up at the massive feats from his saddle while shielding his eyes from the blistering sun with his forearm. They were beginning to enter Vaes Dothrak, which was visible through the wave like heat in the distance. To Vaegon, a city without walls didn't seem very safe, yet he didn't expect much from the horse people.

Not far behind him, Viserys rode, having finally gained his horse back after being forced to walk by Drogo's blood riders. Seeing his elder brother humbled so brutally had brought much joy to the younger Targaryen. He knew that Viserys was never short of arrogance.

Viserys looked beyond ragged by now, his clothing from Pentos worn thin and incredibly dirty. His hair was no longer the clean and wispy locks it had been before, rather turning into a knotted, oily mess. Unlike Viserys, Vaegon had reluctantly adopted the Dothraki dress that he found wasn't nearly as bad as he had expected. As well as adopting the dress of the nomadic people he lived among, Vaegon allowed a sense of wildness take over him as well. Since leaving Pentos, moons had passed, causing Vaegon's hair to grow rapidly out of control. It was nearly a silver mess atop his head.

The sound of pounding hooves caught Vaegon's attention as he spotted Drogo and his blood riders taking off ahead of the Khalasar, most likely to tend to important matters while the remainder of the riders followed behind at its own pace. He knew that somewhere ahead, his sister rode. Nearly every time he thought of her, his thoughts turned sour.

"This entire journey has been a waste of fucking time," Viserys muttered behind Vaegon after watching Drogo ride away as well. "He's been taking my army the wrong way. I was promised we would start the invasion after he got his queen!"

It had been harder to deal with Viserys since Ser Jorah had left for his short journey. He was the only one who had been successful and keeping Vaegon from quite literally strangling his elder brother until his face turned blue.

"He's got important matters to attend to, obviously," Vaegon replied from nearby. He didn't quite care where they went. He wasn't the one trying to take back the iron throne.

"He promised me an army," Viserys replied with a hiss. "He said I would have it once he wedded Daenerys. Here she is now, moons with child like a pregnant bitch round with pups."

"You'll get what you were promised," Vaegon rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I know I will," Viserys growled. "I'll have it now. Once we've arrived into the city, I'll demand it of him. To think he has the audacity to deny me of my right after I gave him his slut of a wife."

"If you think you're going to get Drogo to do your bidding, you're sorely mistaken," Vaegon commented resentfully. "I thought by now that'd you'd learn that the Dothraki listen to no one other than their Khal. Of which he is."

"You've always had such a liberal tongue," Viserys sneered. "Perhaps I should have it cut from your throat. Maybe then you'd learn your place."

Vaegon laughed mockingly, thinking of Viserys bringing himself to stand before Drogo like a child to demand his army be given to him.

"You've always been quick talk," the younger Targaryen grinned, his heart beginning to pound with a mix of exhilaration and drive to taunt his brother. "All talk but no bite. You're very good at promising things aren't you? Perhaps that's the reason they call you the Beggar King."

Viserys' rage was witnessed by all who were in ear shot of the beginnings of his incessant tantrums. Vaegon watched his brother's face turn a scarlet shade of rage and embarrassment, a display he was always pleased to witness. Throughout the years, he often enjoyed spurring an angry bout out of his brother when he had the opportunity.

"I should have you lashed until there's nothing left of you!" Viserys snarls, saliva even flinging from his mouth. "You're nothing but a peeving defamation to our house! You parade that horse-fucking facade as if you're one of them! As if you matter now that you act as one of them!" His lilac eyes were full of true hatred as he spoke, even as his words began to even out into a lesser snarl. "You're nothing. You never have been. You're not Rhaegar, you're not Aegon the Conqueror. You're nothing."

Viserys had always been the most hateful character in Vaegon's life. Always spewing vile taunts and using cruel manipulation to get what he wanted out of his younger siblings. Despite feeling the overwhelming urge to declare every wrong doing that Viserys had bestowed upon he and Daenerys throughout their young lives, he forced away the hateful rage that was building in his chest. Even though he wanted to do questionably horrible things to his brother for the abuse he'd received as a child, he wanted to make sure his revenge was a grand event once it took place. He would have his revenge eventually. Now just wasn't the time.

"Of course, brother," Vaegon said, keeping his tone cool even though fiery rage boiled just below the surface. "I don't think I would ever surmount to our valiant older brother and all his glory. I'm a fool to think so."

Without another word, he gathered the reins of his horse in his hand, taking off ahead of the line of walking Dothraki. Viserys watched him leave, the Dothraki glancing up at him to see his disheveled self.

"What are you looking at?" He snapped angrily at those who were nearest as he brushed away a strand of his silver hair as they looked away. He looked up to see Vaegon's figure disappearing ahead.

♜

VAEGON had thought he would be able to avoid Viserys once the Dothraki had settled on the outskirts of Vaes Dothrak and camp had begun to assimilate that evening, but he had been wrong. He was still recovering from the almost incapacitating fury that had overtaken him, that he had strangely been able to contain. He had left the seclusion of his tent to fetch a new water skin, but Viserys unfortunately spotted him as he was making his way back.

"Did you think I would never find out?" Viserys' threatening tone was audible behind him. As he turned, Vaegon noticed Viserys's hair was dripping water, as if he had been taking a bath. Even though Vaegon was slightly alarmed at such words, he turned around and continued walking. Viserys followed Vaegon without relenting.

"What is it you've found out?" Vaegon more said than asked as he lifted the water skin to his lips and took a drink of weirdly tasting water.

"That pleasure girl belonging to the horselord's slut  is quite liberal with her words when pressed, brother," Viserys continued in a spiteful tone. "I can get her to say anything, and I have just learned some very interesting things."

Vaegon tried his best to ignore, but stopped as soon as Viserys yanked his arm back. He looked down to his brother with a hateful glare, waiting to learn what new issue he would face. The thought of his sister's handmaiden being a growing threat began to surface in his mind. First the encounter with him . . . now this? What else would they face?

"When did you plan on telling me of you and Daenerys, hmm?" Viserys spewed with venom. The words made Vaegon's heart leap in fear. He was unsure of what would happen now that his biggest secret was free and knew he might as well accept he could be facing threats of death if Viserys knew. "How long has this little ordeal carried on? In secret?"

Vaegon let out a heavy sigh. "Why does it matter if it happened?' He muttered defensively. "It hasn't happened for a long time. Not since you sold her away to Drogo."

Viserys' face lit up with accusation, but he pressed more. "So you admit to lying with her!" he declared arrogantly. "You didn't answer me, when did this begin?"

The thought of the beginning was a soothing thought to Vaegon, but in that moment he couldn't find solace in it. Not with the bitterness that lingered around every thought of her nowadays.

"I was seven-and-ten, she was four-and-ten," he muttered, feeling exposed from sharing such information with his domineering brother. Never in his life did he plan on telling him.

Viserys looked almost betrayed, true hurt apparent in his lilac eyes but the hurt seemed to evaporate into thin air.

"To think that I kept you around this long," Viserys spat. "I should've done away with you years ago! I wouldn't be facing such issues you've caused as of late. I do believe Drogo would love to hear such information," an evil, triumphant smile began to appear on his features. "If he knew you were bedding his slut wife long before he, he'll have you dealt with in no time! And Daenerys--,"

As if it were instinct, Vaegon lunges forward and quickly grasps on Viserys' throat with a deadly force. He didn't care what Viserys had to say about him, but threatening Daenerys was a different story.

The water skin that had been in his hand hit the ground as Viserys flailed and struggled for air.  Vaegon felt the rage building even stronger than it had been before as he gripped his brother's windpipe. The thought of ridding the world of his brother with merely a tighter grip seemed so much more desperate and doable in that moment.

"If you breath a word, I will kill you myself," he promised ominously. As he spoke, his grip got tighter. "I'll beat you until there's nothing left of you to burn. You will not harm Daenerys or I will do unimaginable things to you. Do you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Viserys was flailing desperately, clawing at his brother's arm by the time someone came to rip Vaegon's grasp away, potentially saving the life of his brother. He watched as Viserys sank to his knees, gasping desperately for air and looking disheveled.

"Your Grace?" Ser Jorah's voice brings Vaegon back to reality.

As Vaegon whips his wide, anger filled expression toward the concerned knight, he realizes his breathing is ragged and his body tense with rage. Even though he is consumed with his anger, he feels ashamed for allowing the knight to see him in such a manner.

"Ser Jorah," Vaegon reluctantly states amidst his simmering rage. He runs his hands through his hair, turning away to further calm himself.

"You will be punished," Viserys growled despite trying to draw in labored breaths, his skin flushed. "You dare assault your king? I'll have you in chains for such indiscretions!" Viserys looks to the knight, who is still quiet and trying to understand what is going on. "Ser Jorah, get my brother out of my site."

Obediently, Ser Jorah makes his way to Vaegon's side where he begins to usher the prince away. Vaegon's violet eyes darted between the knight and his insufferable brother before he finally bturns away, the knight following close behind.

Eventually, Ser Jorah and Vaegon find an area far enough away from the bustling camp where VIserys is no longer an immediate threat. Where he sits on a boulder, Ser Jorah watches as Vaegon paces back and forth. He feels sorry for the young Targaryen, thinking about how hard it must be with such a domineering brother. Every time he thinks of the elder brother, he can only think of how much better of a ruler Vaegon would be than Viserys. Viserys was far cry from what a king should be.

"If I may ask, Your Grace," Ser Jorah eventually spoke up after Vaegon had been pacing long enough. "What is it that happened? With Viserys?"

Vaegon stills paces as he answers the knight. "That damned girl," he uttered. "Doreah. Daenerys' handmaiden. She has become quite an issue."

"Did something happen while I was away?" Jorah asked him.

"Not only was Doreah sent into my tent at the late hours of night to deceivingly seduce me by my own sister, but she revealed Daenerys and I's . . . past. To Viserys."

Jorah realizes what he means, as well does he realize what it could mean for the prince and the Khaleesi.

"Viserys knows?" he asked in concern. He began to worry about what chaos the information could cause.

Vaegon nodded in defeat. "But I threatened him. I promised I would kill him if anything reached Drogo."

Jorah shook his head to himself. He knew they were at a precarious place, especially with Viserys having such information at hand. The thought of Vaegon and Daenerys being punished, or even worse, executed for such a thing enraged him. Yet, he stayed quiet.

"Perhaps it would be wise to approach Daenerys with this predicament," Jorah suggested. "She may be able to help handle this situation."

"I suppose . . ." Vaegon muttered as he finally halted. He focused on Jorah with troubled expression. "I don't blame Daenerys for any of this. I don't blame her for her marriage to Drogo, for sending Doreah to my tent, for the . . . child she carries. All of this-- this, chaos, is because of Viserys. He is the root of all our suffering. We wouldn't be here, living among savages, if it weren't for him. I could leave this all behind if I really wanted to. I don't know why I'm still here."

"You are not wrong, Your Grace. You could leave this all behind and we both know he wouldn't stop you. But you couldn't leave her behind, you know that. That's what's kept you here in this situation, her. Even though you could have been off, bettering your life, you stayed here for her."

Vaegon nods solemnly, knowing that Jorah and completely and utterly right.

"You're right," he mutters. He crosses his arms and resumes the pacing. "I promised her I would always protect her, always be there for her. Yet here I am, seemingly a thousand miles away when she is only a crossed camp."

Jorah frowns as he watches the prince pace. He had always known the Targaryen's were infamous for having two sides of one coin that represented who they were, and the world would hold its breath and wait to see which side it landed on. Yet, it seems that Vaegon Targaryen was a standing coin, neither mad nor good, simply caught between two worlds. Jorah himself would hold his breath until the day that the coin finally fell.

"You're brother has no right to sit on the throne," the older man expressed. "He's a cruel man, unlike you, Vaegon. If I may express myself, I wholly believe that you are the better fit for the iron throne."

"He's too weak and ineffectual to command an army," Vaegon agrees. He further dabbles on the thought of he ruling Westeros instead of Viserys. He'd thought of it throughout his younger years, but now it seemed as if it were his destiny.

"You are a king I'd I would follow," Ser Jorah tells him. "You could lead the Seven Kingdoms into years of prosperity."

♜

DAENERYS is hopeful for the first in a while as she plans a reconciling meal with Viserys. She hopes she can win him over and bring a sense of belonging to him by offering him new clothing and foods, perhaps even bringing them to reminisce over good times. Even though she is hopeful, a seed of doubt is still planted in her heart. She is almost afraid that something might happen.

Having sent Doreah to invite her brother to dine, she waits in her tent with everything prepared. She gazed around, proud of herself. Her hand rubs over her swelling belly as she smiles to herself.

All too soon, her contentment is gone as Viserys charges into the tent with his hand grasped cruelly in Doreah's hair. He thrusts the pleasure girl to the ground before turning his rage filled expression toward Daenerys.

"You dare command me to dine with you?" He snarls, face red as could be. "Sending your slut as a messenger? I am your king!"

"No, no— I simply wished to invite you! I have gifts," she lifted a newly fashioned Dothraki vest, along with a pair of trousers.

It seems as if nothing could calm him. Viserys sneers in disgust. "You dare try to dress me like one of your savages now? Next will you try to put pretty braids in my hair? Not only are you disrespecting me in such ways, your deceitfulness with Vaegon was revealed to me!"

Daenerys' eyes widen. "You have no right to wear a braid," she retorts. "Only those who have been undefeated in battle can wear a braid. If anyone should wear one, it's Vaegon."

Viserys' expression contorts into rage as she lunges forward, charging at her. "You horselord's slut! How dare you claim Vaegon better than me! Now you've punished yourself and woken the dragon!—,"

As she tried to shrink back, Viserys' hands are at her neck in an instant as he tackles her and she begins to trash about. She fights and fights, Doreah's sobs in the back ground the only thing she can hear as she tries desperately to get his hands away from her neck. Her vision was nearly turned black when Viserys was ripped away from her to reveal Vaegon dragging him out of the tent.

Daenerys gasps for air as tears stream down her face. She can feel a burning sensation where he'd gripped her neck. Looking to Doreah, she shuffled her way over to her handmaiden on her hands and knees to comfort the girl.

"You stay here," she uttered quickly to the girl as she caressed the sobbing girl's now matted hair.

Daenerys stumbled to her feet, pushing her way out of the tent to find a horrible scene.

Mercilessly, Vaegon planted gut wrenching punches into Viserys' face, which was already beginning to swelling horrifically. Blood spattered onto the dusty ground and Viserys once silver hair began to run crimson with blood.

"Vaegon! Vaegon, no—!" Daenerys cried out in panic as she ran over to rip him away from Viserys feeble form. Even as she tries to yank Vaegon away, he still placed a few more brutal punches before finally rising to his feet. Daenerys' gut wrenches at the sight of her elder brother, who looks inches from death.

She cried out in Dothraki, commanding any who are nearby to aid Viserys. Immediately, the olive toned people came to aid Viserys at the command of their Khaleesi. As the aid began, she shirked around to face Vaegon.

"You didn't have to—," she whimpered as she rushes forward to embrace him. She is utterly shocked he when braces her, not allowing her to come any closer.

"Vaegon, I—,"

"I don't want to hear it," he muttered. He didn't make eye contact with her, instead training his violet eyes at the Dothraki busying themselves with treating his unconscious brother.

"Why won't you speak to me?" She uttered in anger, her brow furrowed and eyes still wet with tears.

"You wish me to speak to you? After what you've done?" He finally turns to meet her gaze. His violet eyes were full of betrayal, of anger.

Guilt consumes Daenerys as she looks up. Her lip who better as he continued to speak.

"You've lost my trust," he goes on. "You send your handmaiden to seduce me at night, to trick me. As if I were but a lover you were trying to rid yourself of." He looks to his knuckles, which are blood and split open. "To think that what we had was true."

Daenerys feels her stomach churn, her heart drop, her limbs shaking. She wants to wail and sob at he indiscretions, but she stays utterly still.

"Please, Vaegon," she whimpers. "I love you."

His expressions hardens. "No. You don't."

With his venomous words coursing through her mind, Daenerys watches as he turns away, melding into the milling crowds of the camp until she could no longer see his tall form. She drops to her knees, feeling utterly defeated.

"If only he knew how hard it was to let go," she whispered to herself.