( ACT I; sleeping dragon. )
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chapter 14: the short life of peace.

XARO'S villa was a blissful welcoming back into society, something they thought they would never return to. Upon their arrival to his home, everyone left in the small retinue was given as much food and water they could consume. Sleeping quarters were given and even new clothing.

Given the opportunity to bathe, a steaming bath full of perfumed oils was drawn for the Targaryens to cleanse themselves. Vaegon and Daenerys sat together in the large in-ground bath which was steaming from the nearly boiling water they sat in. Vaegon had previously thought he'd die before he ever saw water again, but here they were, sipping on fine wine in a wealthy merchants home after being stuck in the desert merely hours before. He was still angry to think that all of the Thirteen except for Xaro were willing to let them die in the Garden of Bones.

As he held his cup, he admired the curves of Daenerys' body through the steaming water as she ran a softened sea sponge along her skin at the other side of the bath. Her long, soaked hair was plastered to her pink turned skin. She focused on washing herself before her eyes caught his and a playful smirk appeared on the corners of her lips.

"What?" She asked with a smile.

Vaegon shrugged with a smirk on his lips. "I'm just admiring the moment. It has been quite some time since I've seen you in this condition. It is a wonder to behold, I must admit."

She playfully splashed some water at him with a laugh as he reached out to shield himself and snatch her wrist, drawing her to his lap as he set the wine on the ground behind him. He grabbed a hold of her hips, holding her securely on his grasp as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He kissed along the softness of her neck.

"To think we were going to die but hours ago," she murmured as she kissed his cheek. She moved away a piece of damp hair that had fallen over his face. "If it weren't for Xaro, we would have been."

"I am ever grateful—," he said between the kisses he was taking on her neck. "For his hospitality—," he pulled her back so that he could kiss her lips. Once he had smashed his lips somewhat aggressively against hers, he continues to speak. "But if I have learned anything, it is that he did not do this out of the kindness of his heart. Tell me, do you think he took us and the Dothraki in to merely boast about hosting the Targaryen's in his home?"

"I'm afraid not," Daenerys agrees.

"He wants something," Vaegon states bluntly. "And I'm determined to find out what."

"But for now," she says. "We must focus on recuperating. We were in the waste for a long time and the grass sea even longer. Do you remember when we were so desperate to have the foods back that we used to dine on in Pentos?"

Vaegon sighs in playful exasperation. "Oh, my love, I have not forgotten. I am dying to see what we will get to eat tonight. I do not miss horse meat."

"Illyrio's villa is a pleasant memory to me," she sighs while reminiscing on the similarity between his villa and Xaro's. "It's similar to here. It feels familiar."

"I miss the fighting yard," he bluntly states with a smile.

"Of course you do," she playfully scoffs. He expression falls after a few moments. "I must admit, though, now that we are back to. . .civilization, it feels strange without Viserys here."

Vaegon hates thinking of his brother, the only pleasant memory he could remember being that of his death by a deadly golden crown bestowed to him by Drogo. Vaegon wishes he could have thanked the Khal for doing so. But he understands Daenerys' grief, for he and Viserys were all the family that she knew. Vaegon had been around all of his family at one point or another. She hadn't.

"I know," he states. "But we are happy now. Without him. Things are different. We have three dragons now, and soon enough we'll have an army and ships to take back our home back. We'll rule together, love. We'll return the seven kingdoms back to what it was before the Rebellion. Even better, before the dragons had died out."

Daenerys smirks warmly at his promise. "We'll return our house to its former glory," she agreed. "Dragons will once again rule the skies, with us as their riders."

"The 'Begetters of Dragons' they are calling us. I like the sound of it," he remarks on their new found titles.

Daenerys smiles at the thought, but their bath is interrupted by none other than her handmaiden, Doreah, who is entering the room. In her hand she carries two bundles wrapped carefully in crimson silk. She flashes a smile at Daenerys, but won't meet Vaegon's gaze as he scowls in her direction.

"Khaleesi," she smiled as she wandered closer. "Xaro had me bring these to you, he says they are a gift."

"Thank you," Daenerys smiles. "Please, set them over there for us."

Doreah obeys and luckily takes her leave right after, leaving the two of them to uncover what they've been gifted. Daenerys is first to get out of the water, her skin pink and shining from the water dripping down. Vaegon takes in the entirety of her lithe, naked figure as she unravels the silks, turning toward him to show what they'd received.

"He gifted you a black and crimson doublet," she remarked holding it up. Indeed, it was as if Xaro had gotten a craftsman to specially create the garment to his liking, for it was something he most definitely would wear. It would be the finest thing he'd have worn in well over a year. "A fine pair of breeches as well."

He appreciated the gift, but it made him uneasy. What is it that Xaro is trying to buy from us? He thought to himself.

"He's gifted me a dress as well," she stated, showing him a beautiful aqua silk dress with a golden bodice. She beamed at the new garment.

"You'll look lovely," Vaegon assures her from where he sits, still in the bath. "As you always do."

She flashes him a smile as she put it to her chest, looking down as if to see how it would appear on her.
"Finally, things are returning to normal," she sighed.

♜

JUST a few days passed, after the Targaryen's had had the opportunity to decompress, Xaro held an gathering in the gardens of his villa in honor of Vaegon and Daenerys so that they may find allies among the nobles of Qarth. Dozens of rich merchants and nobles were attending, who milled around in their array of strange garments and jewelry. Beverages and foods were served by servants and music filled the background. Statues of gold littered the garden, with exotic birds perched on tall stands as they squawked and displayed vibrant colored feathers for all to admire.

Vaegon leaned against one of the hedge lined walls with Kovarro and Jorah, an arm crossed while he grasped a chalice of wine to his lips. He sipped at the crimson liquid, his violet eyes scanning the crowd of diverse people. The noblewomen that passed eyed him with acute curiosity, flashing bright smiles as if they were going to catch his momentary affection with their looks. He ignored them, his eyes wandering to find Daenerys. She wasn't far off, speaking to some nobles. She flashed a smile as she spoke, assuring Vaegon she was comfortable.

"Perhaps you should speak with some of them," Ser Jorah suggested at Vaegon's side. "You could strike up a deal with one of them, even if it were small."

"If they wish to speak to me, they'll come," Vaegon sighed. "Already, I've had too many conversations consisting of nothing but our dragons. I don't think I could explain it again. I'd rather stand to the side and drink my wine."

"As you wish," Jorah said. "How are they fairing? The dragons?"

"Well," Vaegon replied. "All three have already begun to learn Valyrian words. They can finally create fire now and cook their own meat."

"Incredible," Jorah remarked. "We can only imagine what they will be like once they've grown."

"Oh, I know," Vaegon agreed. He says no more as Daenerys begins making her way over to Vaegon's side, most likely retreating from the constant babbling of the curious nobles. She shakes her head in annoyance as she stops in front of them.

"I've grown weary of their questions already," she scoffed. She wears the aqua dress gifted to her by Xaro, her eyes lined with kohl and her platinum locks flowing. "I couldn't stand it any longer."

"That is why I fled when I could," Vaegon laughed. "If I had known this gathering would be so exhausting, I would've stayed in bed this morning."

"Hey! You can't do that!" The sound of an angry nobleman catches their attention as they see a couple of Dothraki in the near distance trying to pry gemstones from one of the golden statues. Daenerys sighs in exasperation and looks to Kovarro, who is at Vaegon's side.

"Kovarro, please stop them," she orders with a sigh and he obediently leaves them to stop the commotion.

"Viserys used to say the only thing the Dothraki know how to do was steal things better men have built," Daenerys muttered.

"It's not the only thing," Ser Jorah remarked.

"They are quite good at killing better men," Vaegon chimed. "If only we had more of them."

"That's not the type of rulers we are going to be," Daenerys scolded Vaegon as she lightly punched his arm, he laughing at his joke. Suddenly their attention is turned to a new presence, which seemed to suddenly evaporate from nothing.

"King Vaegon, Princess Daenerys," an older, almost decrepit looking man in dark robes greets. His lips are purple and they peel back into a strange smile. "It is a pleasure to receive the Begetter's of Dragons here in Qarth. A demonstration? Take this gem."

He places a gemstone in Daenerys' hand, which also seemed to appear from nothing. Both she and Vaegon gaze at it, looking at the way the light fractured inside. It was nearly half the size of her palm.

"Look at it," The warlock coaxed. "Into it's depths. So many facets. If you look closely enough you can see yourself in them."

"Often more than once," the warlock's voice is heard in an entirely different direction than where he was standing in front of them. Vaegon and Daenerys look to an exact figure a crossed the garden of the warlock, the nobles surrounding clapping in applause at the magic trick.

"If you grow weary of Xaro's baubles and trinkets, you both are always welcome at the House of the Undying," the figure that had been in front of them said. Without another word, the warlock peeled away from them, both of his figures disappearing into the rumbling crowd.

Vaegon and Daenerys look to each other in sheer surprise, both of them obviously in shock. As they try to understand what has happened, Xaro himself makes his appearance.

"My apologies," their tall host exclaimed. "Pyat Pree is one of the Thirteen. It was customary of me to extend an invitation. Customs die slow deaths in Qarth."

"What is the House of the Undying?" Vaegon questioned.

"It is where the warlocks go to squint at dusty books and drink shade of the evening. It turns their lips blue and their minds soft," Xaro explained. "So soft, they actually believe their parlor tricks are magic."

Thinking on the encounter with the Warlock, Vaegon feels uneasy. "If our dragons exist, it doesn't sound so far fetched that warlocks and magic do," he muttered.

♜

EVENING had begun to fall over the gathering, which had waned into a quiet get together by those still there. Vaegon was ready to return to their chambers, where he planned to feed the dragons and then fall into a deep sleep. Daenerys has opted to stay at the gathering with the company of Jorah, so he wasn't worried about leaving her alone. He had nearly made his way a crossed the garden and towards the exit before he was stopped.

"Your Grace," Xaro's voice causes him to halt, turning to the tall man.

"Xaro," Vaegon stated. "Good evening."

"Good evening as well. Are you enjoying your stay?" The merchant asked.

"Yes," Vaegon replied. "We are ever grateful to have escaped the waste."

"I'm glad to hear so," Xaro smiled. "Soon you'll go to speak to the Thirteen for financial aid?"

Vaegon nodded. "I hope to find some," he told him. "Anything will help."

"You are right, anything could help. What if I told you I could help you myself?"

Vaegon perked at the preposition. Originally, he hadn't thought Xaro was as wealthy as his colleagues in the Thirteen. Perhaps he had wealth hidden away somewhere.

"What is it your asking?" Vaegon queried. He was growing suspicious.

"Give me your blessing to take your sister as my bride and I'll fund your entire conquest for Westeros," Xaro began to explain. "You'll have ships, an army, and your three dragons would take Westeros back without issue."

Vaegon's expression hardened immediately. His anger flared and soon he felt it manifest as his cheeks grew hot. He knew he had felt something off about their host. Now he had finally figured it out.

"That is out of the question," he vehemently refused.

"Why?" Xaro asked. "I would care for her as any good husband, provide for her and give her children. You would have your throne. Tell me, is that not a profitable investment?"

"Daenerys has already been married off to a Dothraki savage by our late brother," Vaegon muttered. "Without a say. She is marrying no one."

Xaro's expression hardened. "You mean, no one except you?"

Vaegon bristles at the accusation. He was unsure of what the Qarteen nobles would think of their relationship, or if it would jeopardize their chances of gaining aid.

"Tread lightly with what you are about to say," Vaegon was beginning to grow hostile.

"You wish for me to not voice the truth?" Xaro scoffed. "That you and your sister are involved? That you engage in intimacies? I know, Your Grace, that you wish to keep her as your own. Of course, she would make the most regal of queens. But if you wish to take your throne back, you must gamble. And your sister is a valuable playing chip in this game you are trying to play."

Vaegon has a sneaking suspicion of how Xaro is gathering his information. It makes him even angrier.

"I will not be threatened by you or anyone," Vaegon growled. "I am a Targaryen, a dragon. We will never concern ourselves with those lesser than us. And when we are threatened, those who dare challenge us do not last long."

Without another word he turned heel and made his exit, leaving Xaro where he stood. In the merchant's mind, thoughts of resentment stirred.