( ACT II; the age of the dragon. )
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chapter 16: do what kings do.

MILK of the poppy was given to the king by the healers to periodically stave away the pain that came with his blistered palms and the poultice-filled and wrapped wounds slashed on his abdomen. His hands were left unbound, laying at his sides where he lied in his bed in the chambers that had been claimed for him in the Great Pyramid.

The relief the foul tasting liquid gave him was enough to allow sleep with no pain, but the unusual feeling in his head and throughout his body was enough to make him choose to wean off the substance after a few days. Therefore, he fought the pain on his own

Vaguely, he could remember Barristan and Jorah working together to gently guide him into the chambers and lower him to the bed after they'd assumed control of Mereen and ascended the pyramid. Luckily, his small council had stepped forward to take care of things in the kings stead, Barristan making sure to keep him updated on things when he could as the king was conscious. He was unsure of where Daenerys or Raina were, but he prayed they were far apart if they were in the pyramid. He was far from capable of being able to diffuse a situation where conflict arose between the two women, Daenerys's uncanny rage being what had landed him in the situation he was currently in.

The heavy door to his chambers creaked open to reveal Daenerys quietly making her way inside. Though still drowsy from his sleep, he grew worried. He wasn't sure how many days had passed since they'd taken up their residence in the pyramid, but between his times of unconsciousness he hadn't spoken to Daenerys once.

She stopped a few feet away from his bed with an expression he found hard to read. Her lips were set in a thin line, her eyes looking toward him but not necessarily at him. Hands clasped together and remaining in front of her, it was obvious she was waiting for him to speak first. Likely expecting him to take his turn to unleash his rage.

"How long has it been?" Vaegon asked her with a rough voice that hadn't spoken in days. He truly had no sense of time since the milk of the poppy had hindered his mind.

Clearing her throat, she said, "Since we've taken the city and assumed our place in the pyramid, four days."

Letting out a huff of contempt for his disposition that had left him otherwise bedridden, he said, "I've been in this bed for far too long. What of our dragons? Where are they?"

"They are fairing just fine. I've made sure there's a patrol of Unsullied that have been watching them and feeding them outside the city walls. They've made an area of their own in a farmers meadow, whom I'm made sure to compensate for." Daenerys pursed her lips. "I didn't come here to speak of our dragons, Vaegon. I wished to apologize."

He wanted to remain angry and bitter. Daenerys' behavior had been unlike anything he'd seen from her. Yet his better judgement and overall exhaustion from recovery pressed him to let their discussion spiral into another violent occasion.

"Your behavior," he said with his dry, scratchy voice. Though still weak, he held a sense of authority in his tone. He licked his chapped lips before continuing. "Was far below anything I've ever seen from you."

Daenerys nodded in agreement as a look of shame took over her features. "My actions were unfit for my station, as well as the respect that Lady Stark deserves as a noble woman. I should not have listened to Daario," she paused, as if recalling the brutal death that Vaegon had given the sellsword. "He merely wanted a place at my bedside. He used my fears against me to spin a lie. I understand the severity of my transgressions. All I ask is your forgiveness, Vae. Or at least the semblance of it."

Though he was pleased to see that their conversation had went the entirely opposite way than he had expected, a pit out of worry grew in Vaegon's stomach. Daario's suspicion about him and Raina hadn't been entirely unfounded, as the king was indeed growing feelings toward the Stark woman amid their casual interactions. Vaegon was utterly unsure of how his sister might react to such a truth. The reality made his next words that much harder to say.

"I will always love you, no matter what," he stated while their eyes locked together. "And I forgive you. But I will be plain with you, Dany," Vaegon sighed, ready to face whatever hellish reaction she might unleash on him right after they'd reconciled. He sucked at his teeth for a moment before continuing. "I harbor feelings toward Raina. But this does not leave me to feel any less about you." He was quick to try and sit up, but as he went to move, he hissed in pain from the healing wounds. Daenerys surprisingly wandered to his bedside to sit next to him where he lied to coax him to lie down once more.

Daenerys looked to him with a sense of understanding and love that Vaegon hadn't seen since they were still living in Pentos, before all of the harrowing events they'd faced in the recent years. Neither anger nor betrayal painted her features as she brought a hand to cup his cheek. She leaned forward, where they both fell into a deep kiss. His hands went to hold her by the shoulders, but they remained hovering over her skin due to the wounds he was still healing from. He had almost forgotten her taste, the sweetness of her breath and her soft lips. Tears almost welled at his realization of how much he had missed her in the time they'd grown so distant.

After a few moment of savoring each other's closeness Daenerys pulls back. She begins to make herself a place at his side, finding herself nestled against him with her head on his chest. "I must admit, Vae, that I have found myself feeling the same."

He cocked a brow as soon as the words began to register in his mind. She was agreeing to having feelings toward Raina Stark?

"Whatever could you mean?" He asked in utter confusion.

Daenerys sighed as she pulled her hand away from his cheek to rest her weight on it on the bed's sheets. "While you have been recovering," she began, seeming as if she didn't even believe her own words. "Raina and I have reconciled since my outrage. Since then, we have grown... close."

Daenerys's words sparked intrigue in Vaegon he could not stifle. Before she'd entered the room, his assumption had been that Daenerys would prefer to burn Raina to ashes by dragon fire for even deigning to interact with him. Now, he was being told she harbored romantic feelings for her.

"You mean to tell me," he tried to put his understanding into words. "That since I have been bed ridden, my sister and the woman I have grown feelings toward now feel such a way about each other?"

Daenerys seemed to grow slightly embarrassed, akin to a young teenager speaking of a crush. She nodded, smirking. "It's hard to explain. But I have found I much enjoy her company, as well as her beauty. From what I have gathered, she seems to feel the same. She has offered much assurance in organizing the city and it's affairs."

The possibilities brought by their newfound closeness began to open to him like a tidal wave. The prior consideration the king had toyed with began to become more feasible.

"What if..." he began, trying to find the best way to say the words. "We were to be like Aegon the Conquerer and his sister-wives?"

Daenerys' reaction allowed him to seemingly sink into the bed with relief. She merely shrugged and offered a head tilt.

"I have considered the thought myself," she told him. "If I had not found myself fond of her, this conversation might have gone differently." She let out a laugh, at which they were both able to share. The first semblance of their love for each finally coming back to the surface. "I'm not sure how the realm would take to a king with two queens. It is something we would need to speak with her about. But I'm afraid she is still grieving."

Vaegon gave her a look of confusion. "Grieving?"

Daenerys sighed. "It is likely best I tell you myself as to save her the heartache. The night we assumed our place in the pyramid, a message from Westeros arrived. Weeks late, news of her brothers' death came. He and his northern host were slaughtered at a wedding."

The empathy he felt toward Raina in that moment came in the form of a hollowness inside him. He found himself wishing he had been there to console her. Yet, the north now seemed to rest with much of Raina's influence. If she were able to convince the north that he was not his father and would bring order to the realm, it would likely change the tide of their return to Westeros.

"She is fairing better, though," Daenerys went on. "She's made an effort to distract herself. Strangely, she has managed to gain an uncanny familiarity with Haelyx. She's been allowed to caress her muzzle and even grow close to her. We both know that no one has been able to do as such except us."

Among the many other things Daenerys had enlightened him with, Raina's sudden affinity with one of their dragons shocked him the most. If they truly were to wed as a husband and two wives, they could truly be the Conqueror reborn, each with a dragon if Raina somehow managed to assume the service of Haelyx. The reality that she could even interact with the she-dragon was hard enough to believe on its own.

"We will speak with her on the matter," Vaegon declared as they lied together. He tried to savor every moment that he held her while thanking whatever gods would listen that he was thankful to have her back. The flicker of the torches in the room began to offer a lulling affect that seemed to work hand in hand with Daenerys' presence.

They lied together in the quietness for a time, the both of them growing more tired the more time that passed. Soon enough, they safely drifted to sleep together for the first time in years.

♜

SITTING cross legged at a small table in the headquarters of the pyramid that held the balcony that overlooked the city, Raina sipped at a chalice of wine. In her company was the king, whom had managed to heal enough to make an appearance for the first time since they'd gotten to Mereen. Daenerys sat next to her, offering a playful smirk and sparkling violet eyes anytime she managed to catch the eye of the princess. It left her belly full of butterflies each time.

She pulled the fabric of her silken grey dress to become more evenly distributed on her legs as they spoke.

"Along with the news of Joffrey's death and the ascension of his younger brother, Tommen," Barristan briefed the king on the news gathered from spies, standing among the gathered council. "Daenerys, along with the assistance of the rest of the council, has managed to take the city's navy." Grey Worm and Missandei stood near Daenerys and nodded in pride, as Jorah flanked Vaegon where he sat in his chair. He slouched ever so slightly as to not irritate his healing wounds.

Raina watched as Vaegon flashes Daenerys a pleased look. She was still confused as to how their demeanor toward each other had shifted seemingly overnight, but she welcomed the pleasantries nonetheless. She needed something something positive to fill her mind.

"My, perhaps I should remain bed ridden for such victories to manifest," Vaegon joked, looking between them all. "It appears I chose well with my council."

"Is it enough to allow us to sail for Westeros early?" Raina spoke up. She was both eager and worried to return to her country. Jon was there, but there was no telling where. She didn't want to face the reality of Robb's death either.

"It is possible," Barristan replied to the Stark woman's question, seemingly optimistic about the possibility. "With eight-thousand Unsullied and two-thousand Second Son's, we could take King's Landing. The old houses of Westeros would flock to your cause, Your Grace. Swelling our numbers."

After Daario had been dealt with, Jorah and Grey Worm had been quick to barter the service of the sellsword army. With the promise of riches from Mereen and even Westeros, they managed to gain their allegiance indefinitely.

Jorah grunted in disagreement. "The city may be easy to take from exhausted defenders, but there is still the rest of the realm to consider," the knight countered. "Not only that, but the Wise-Master's of Yunkai have been quick to re-enslave those who were set free. Astapor remains free, but the council that was instilled before we left had be disposed by a butcher named Cleon."

Raina looks back to Vaegon, knowing his pleased expression would likely shift back to a grimace. She was right, as his brow set into a hard line.

"Leave me to speak with Ser Jorah," Vaegon muttered to them all.

They began to file from the headquarters to leave the king with his advisor, Raina sharing a glance with Daenerys before they both wandered into a cavernous corridor of the pyramid in search of something to fill their time.

"Our efforts to free the slaves of this damned bay are in shambles," Vaegon muttered to the knight as he palmed his face in a stressful manner.

"You and Daenerys are one of the last members of your house," Jorah reminded him. "Blood of the dragon. That alone commands respect."

Vaegon sighed. "We need to be more than that. More than what we have been. If I cannot control three cities," his gaze drifts to the open balcony, where the blue sky loomed with clumps of white clouds. "How am I to control seven kingdoms?"

"Perhaps you should delegate some of your responsibilities to Daenerys. She has already proven to do well with such duties after seizing Mereen's navy," the knight suggested. "Carrying the burden on yourself will do no good. You have the assistance here, Your Grace, use it."

Vaegon sighed. He gingerly ran his healing hands through his silver hair, which had grown quite long on the top of his head in the recent months.

"Perhaps then I'll have to do what kings do," the Targaryen muttered. "And rule."