( ACT I; sleeping dragon )
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chapter 4: the tragedy of sinful love.

IT was apparent that Daenerys' position and power among the Dothraki was growing with each moon passed. The olive skinned people no longer looked upon her as a outsider, as they still did Vaegon and Viserys, but instead began to respect her for who she was: their Khaleesi. She was gaining their love, their admiration, all because she was a kind and gentle soul who was the wife of their fearless leader. Even Drogo's blood-riders began to respect her as their queen.

Though Vaegon had spent his life admiring and rooting for his sister, backing her in everything, he'd only been able to feel bitterness since she'd sent Doreah to lie with him in his tent. Every time he thought of the night, he seethed with anger. He thought of the deception and utter betrayal, of him thinking it was she who had come to lie with him instead of her obedient servant. Parts of him wished he had decided to stay in Pentos, but he reminds himself that no matter what has come to pass he wouldn't be able to stay away from her.

Everyday, the Dothraki moved. To Vaegon, it seemed as if they never rested. Their line of countless horses, riders, slaves, children, animals and more would rise early in the morning and set off once more toward their destination of Vaes Dothrak, a sort of hub for the horse rearing people. He found himself struggling to keep up with the Khalasar each morning, sometimes nearly dozing off in his saddle.

It was mid morning when the Khalasar halted on a whim, causing Vaegon to be jerked awake by the sudden lack of movement under his saddle. He rubbed away the sleepiness from his violet eyes as he squinted ahead, seeing the long locks of silver owned by Daenerys moving her horse off to the side before venturing deeper into the towering grass, Ser Jorah following close behind. He would've left her be if he hadn't seen Viserys angrily yanked the reins of his horse after her.

Knowing that more than likely his arrogant ass of a brother was bound to stir trouble, he trotted his horse around the line of waiting Dothraki to make his way toward them both. When he pushed passed the grass that led to the area that Daenerys had went, he found Viserys had cornered her near her horse. Ser Jorah shot him a helpless look as Viserys unleashed his rage on her.

"...you think you have the right to command me? You're nothing but a horse lord's whore. I'll have you whipped for this—," Viserys was in the middle of saying just before Vaegon slid from his saddle just a few feet away.

Viserys looked back with eyes of rage as he turned to unleash his fury on Vaegon.

"It's you that's been feeding her these false ideas, isn't it?" He snarled. "I should have gotten rid of you when I could, sent you off to the fighting pits in Mereen you useless fucking—," his arm was lifting to strike Vaegon on the cheek, but his hand never got so far.

Vaegon watched as Viserys was helplessly dragged away to the ground, a leather whipped latched securely around his skinny neck as he struggled to breath. He clawed at his neck at his violet eyes were wide with fear.

Vaegon looked up to see one of Drogo's blood riders, Rakharo if he remembered correctly, with the whip in his grip. He spoke to Daenerys in the Dothraki, seemingly waiting for commands. Vaegon watches as the blood-rider reluctantly loosens the whip at her request and turns to leave, but not without grabbing the reins of Viserys' horse before beginning to return to the line.

"Where is he going with my horse?" Viserys shrieked in anger, looking between Vaegon, Daenerys, and Jorah.

"You walk," Rakharo stated as he led the horse away.

Viserys stuttered on his words, before looking to Vaegon.

"Make them give me my horse, now!" He commanded Vaegon, who ignored the demands.

"She's a khaleesi now. Perhaps it's time you treated her as so. You wouldn't want to wake the dragon, now, would you?" Vaegon threatened with a sneer. He waited moons to use such mockery. Viserys looked to him with wide eyes of shock as Vaegon mounted his horse, saying, "Threaten either one of us again, next time it won't be Drogo's blood-rider here to lasso you from the neck."

Just as he pulled the reins of his horse to turn around, he caught the knowing gaze of Daenerys. Looking away, he disappeared to return to the line. Viserys, enraged, storms after him leaving Daenerys and Ser Jorah in peace.

When Vaegon has disappeared, Daenerys looks to Jorah with a solemn expression. Ever since he'd joined their company, she'd been able to find comfort in his wise words anytime he offered them. She needed them in that moment, seeing the way that Vaegon seemingly glared into her soul to see every sin she'd committed against him since they'd taken up their life in the grass sea. The pain stung more than she could describe.

"I hate to see him like this," she admits. She looks in the direction he disappeared, imagining him returning with open arms to forgive all her transgressions.

"You must give him time, khaleesi," the knight advised. "Soon enough, he would come to understand why you've done what you have done. If you hadn't, you both could sooner find yourself without heads."

She frowns to herself as her hands reaches to run along the flank of her horse. She rubs at the mares soft fur, thinking of such a horrible thing. She could find herself dead for merely living another than the man she was forced to be with. All because of Viserys.

She damned the throne he fought so hard to have. A throne he didn't deserve.

"If only Vaegon were like that," she answers solemnly. "He rarely forgives. And he never forgets."

♜

DAENERYS lied in a bath of steaming water, watching the steam roll up into the cool air. She breathed in the scents of perfumed oil, a luxury gifted to her on her wedding day. Around her, Irri and Doreah worked on arranging her belongings for the next days trip. Her eyes drifted a crossed the tent, toward the darker area where the brazier's light didn't reach. Her chest of eggs lied ominously, as if calling to her. She felt the urge to bring them into the steaming water, as if it might coax them back to life. She knew she was only being silly.

"Doreah," she speaks up, breaking the silence that had hung in the quiet night. "Would you visit my brother again tonight?"

She'd thought on her request for a while, especially after that day. Vaegon did not seem any happier, meaning perhaps she still had a chance of weaning him away from her despite the horrible pain it brought her. She'd done her best to perform in the marriage bed with Drogo since she first sent Doreah to stave the desires out of Vaegon, and she hoped perhaps her actions would come to fruit soon.

"Which one, khaleesi?" The pleasure girl asked.

"Vaegon," Daenerys replies solemnly.

"If it pleases you, khaleesi," Doreah with the slightest hint of reluctance. "But I find he doesn't find pleasure out of my presence. He was not pleased when he found it to be me that night. Perhaps it wouldn't be wise...?"

Daenerys frowns to herself as she knows her servant is right. She sighs heavily.

"I suppose you are right," she mutters as she goes to sit forward in the tub. "He's always been a stubborn one."

"Perhaps I did something wrong?" Doreah asks genuinely. "I've not had a man deny my services before, khaleesi. Maybe I angered him somehow?"

"No, no," Daenerys reassures her. "Vaegon. . .is struggling with some things right now. I only thought he might find your company comforting, that's all. You've done nothing wrong."

Doreah nods. "I would hate to anger him, truly. He is such a handsome man, any girl would be lucky to be his. Maybe I'd be lucky enough to one day have his affection," she shrugged with a whimsical grin to herself. "I suppose I could dream. A prince could never be with a pleasure girl."

Despite the efforts she had made to distance herself from Vaegon, for the sake of their safety, Daenerys felt a twinge of jealousy and rage pit itself in her chest. She fought off the urge to snap at Doreah, even though the pleasure girl had merely only done what she was told. It was not as if Daenerys hadn't felt every ounce of pain as she watched Doreah slip from her tent to venture Vaegon's so many nights ago. Even now, it was fresh.

Trying her best to forget the conversation, she begins to rise to her feet, the warm water rushing off her skin and dripping back into the tub. Her silver hair sticks to her back and breasts, she noticing that it has grown a significant amount since they'd for left Pentos moons ago. Irri comes to dry her pink skin off, but pauses for a moment as she puts a hand to Daenerys' belly.

"Khaleesi," Irri says with a tone of concern as she reaches forward to touches Daenerys bare belly, as if to feel for any noticeable differences. "When was last time you had moon blood?"

Daenerys pauses at the thought, thinking of the last time she had bled. She couldn't remember. . . It felt ages ago. For at least a fortnight now, she would sometimes wake up to unleash the contents of her stomach. She hadn't thought much of it, deeming it her aversion to excessive amounts of horse meat, until now.

"I don't know. . ." She replied, her thoughts whirling.

Irri gently pulls Daenerys' hand from her side to place it on her damp belly. She feels it, noticing the slightest of difference. Reality begins to settle in.

"I think you are with child."

Daenerys pauses at the statement, seemingly lost in the thought. She can only think of doing one thing in that moment, the one thing she'd thought of that would grant her relief.

"Find me a robe," she tells her servants with a sense of urgency. "I must see the khal."

♜

VAEGON had expected to hear the news of Daenerys' pregnancy at some point since the night Doreah had been sent to his tent. The news spread like wild fire, the Khalasar celebrating all throughout that day. It seemed as if they'd never reached Vaes Dothrak at the rate that they were moving, causing Vaegon to dread every waking moment he faced.

As much as he loved Daenerys, he was unsure of what to think of her growing child. A child that was not his, but of a stranger. Was she not meant to bare his children? Was this the way that the gods, if they existed, to punish him for his sinful love? He didn't know. He didn't want to think of why he was forced to suffer such a painful thing but he endured nonetheless. He saw no future with her, therefore he didn't want a future with anyone else.

Amid yet another night of celebration, he found himself in a dark area of openness where a large stream cut and carved its way through the grass sea. A large boulder was hugged by the bank and he used it to gaze up into the stars. Just over the tips of the grass, far off in the distance, he could see the slightest hints of mountains looming on the horizon. He hoped they were growing close to their destination.

"It's a good night to watch the stars," a voice says as the prince gazed at the heavens. He heard boots stop near the base of the boulder and looked down to find Jorah gazing up. He'd most likely returned from a long day of wandering away from the Khalasar. Vaegon looked back to the sky.

"I suppose it is," the prince replied softly.

"May I join you?" The knight asks.

Vaegon scoots to the opposite side of the large boulder to offer space for the older man, whom takes a seat beside him. The two gaze up at the stars for a while in silence before striking up a conversation.

"I wish I knew why I deserve this all," Vaegon uttered after finally deciding to breaking the silence. Many thoughts had begun to swirl in his mind, good and bad. Most of all, he felt defeated.

"With your sister?" Jorah asks to clarify.

Vaegon shakes his head. "Everything, Daenerys, and the situation that we are facing now. Viserys and my utter hate for him, for his mistreatment and hunger for power. My family, mostly dead and gone. I wish I could have seen a life in Westeros, with my house still alive and ruling. Not here. Not in this place."

Jorah sighs. "I understand that your life is a tale of tragedy, Your Grace. It is a sad tale indeed. I, too, wish to see you and your sister find peace in this world, but I don't believe it's time. There are still things to come that will strengthen you both. I am no fortune teller or magic wielder, but I hold a strong belief in hope. Perhaps you could find strength in it."

"I wish hope wasn't so fleeting in this time, Ser Jorah," Vaegon admits. "I've tried so hard to cling to it, yet it find my hands empty. I find myself losing my mind in this damned sea of grass."

"Soon enough, we'll be out of it, Your Grace. I promise," The knight replied.

Vaegon nods slightly. He doesn't quite believe him, but he tries.

"Tell me, Ser Jorah, what would you do if you were facing the same troubles as me?" Vaegon asks.

"I would hold on, Your Grace. It will all get better."

"But she's carrying another man's child," Vaegon muttered to himself. He doesn't notice the way the knight grows rigid.

"Daenerys?" The knight asks.

"Yes," Vaegon answers plainly. "Who else?"

"My, how soon," Jorah replies. His thoughts seem elsewhere. He rises to his feet, causing Vaegon to look up. "I should retire for the night, Your Grace. I must ride for the Free City of Qohor on the morn. But I'll join the Khalasar once more in Vaes Dothrak."

Vaegon, seeing it as an opportunity to escape for a short time, perks at the mention.

"I should join you then," he states. "I think it'd do me well to get away for a short time."

"It's a private affair, Your Grace," Jorah is quick to disagree. "I wouldn't like to drag you alone. I promise I will be back once you reach Vaes Dothrak. I swear on it."

Vaegon, though slightly confused, slowly nods his head in understanding. The slightest thought of suspicion appears in his mind, but it disappears in a moment. "Of course," he reluctantly agrees. "I understand."

Jorah nods his head as if relieved. "I should bid you goodnight then, Your Grace." With that, the knight leaves Vaegon alone under the stars once more to mourn over his lost and broken dreams.