Prologue

The dark nights were familiar to her and her husband, although it was unfamiliar for either of them to be with the other. And as yet Daenerys was unfamiliar with the ways of pleasing her Dothraki Khal, they had not stayed together as man and wife very often. After Drogo would have his way with her, he would leave her crying and upset, where one of her three slave girls would spend the night caring for her.

As Drogo left the tent, one of the slave girls, Doreah, accompanied by one of Drogo's watch riders, approached the entrance to their Khaleesi's tent. Pausing, Drogo looked at them, expectantly for their news.

"Khaleesi," the rider began in the rough Dothraki tongue, a word that Dany understood, but that was the last of what she understood.

"There is a woman," the slave girl said quietly, translating from the rider's words into the Common Tongue that her mistress would understand, "and she insists that she must see you."

Drogo's chest visibly rose at this, already showing a protective instinct over his new wife, not pleased with visitors in the middle of the night, especially female visitors that dared to approach a Dothraki camp. He was Khal, and no one would disrespect that. Before he could deny this intruder, his bride spoke quietly.

"Does she state her purpose?" was all the girl khaleesi quietly inquired. People did not come for Daenerys, people only came for Viserys. She had not even had visitors during the time of her childhood when her and her brother would migrate between the Free Cities, imposing upon supposed loyalists to her family name. The only time she had ever had someone come to her was only a few nights ago when Drogo and his party came to Magister Illyrio's home to appraise her for their marriage.

The slave girl turned to the rider, Drogo looked at him expectantly, and the rider shook his head. "She said she would only tell that to you, Khaleesi."

Looking at her new husband, Dany knew that Drogo was not pleased with this. She sensed his anger the way she could sense when Viserys threatened to unleash the dragon, and she was about to open her mouth to reassure him, remembering that she was not able to speak his tongue, and she kept herself silent.

The silence in the Khal's tent was palpable, but it was shattered into a thousand pieces at the sound of a voice nobody knew. It was cold and beautiful, haughty and knowledgeable, and it spoke a language so rough but made it beautiful. "I mean you no harm, Greatest Khal," it came from the shadow of the tent's entrance. Stepping forward into the lamp lights, a woman dressed in red from head to toe, her face veiled and angled towards the ground to show her respect for Drogo. "But I must speak to your Khaleesi."

With a rough nod, Drogo dismissed the rider and the slave girl without making eye contact with either of them. Notably, he continued to stand there, crossing his large arms over his even larger chest, staring at the intruder in red.

"Alone," she spoke again, raising her head and her hands, removing the veil from her face to reveal a beautiful face, not a type that Dany had seen during all of her travels around the Free Cities. When Drogo continued to stand there, the angular woman's thin lips turned up into a small smile – or was it a smirk? – and she gave him a half nod. "You may stand outside of the tent if you are worried I am here for blood, Khal," she reassured him in a tone that was a mixture of haughty, amused, and respectful. Satisfied with her allowance, Drogo moved gracefully towards the entrance of the tent, warily watching the woman in red as he did so.

Now, practically alone with the woman, Daenerys couldn't help but stare at her as she got a good look at this visitor in the darkest of night. Unable to find her words, or perhaps unsure if she even knew how to communicate with the beautiful stranger, she waited for that voice to speak once again.

"Khaleesi, you must forgive me," the woman in red spoke, that clear and haunting voice ringing out in the Common Tongue, something that surprised the young girl. "I have been riding night and day from beyond the Dothraki Sea to find you. It concerns your House, and the throne that has been taken from it."

At the mention of her bloodline, and of the Iron Throne, the one thing Viserys coveted the most in the world, Dany's brow furrowed in confusion. Why was this woman coming to her if her business was about Westeros and the Iron Throne. "Then why are you coming to me, when you should be holding an audience with my brother –"

"Viserys," the woman finished before her. At the name, her upper lip curled into a sneer and her eyes betrayed an air of contempt. If Viserys could see her, he would surely threaten to awaken the dragon on her. Daenerys would have to warn her about that.

"Yes. Why not him?"

The woman didn't even bother to reflect upon the question. "Because he is merely a pretender to the Iron Throne," she stated calmly, as if delivering the news of her brother's fraudulence would not despair Dany in the slightest. "My sisters and I aligned ourselves with your ancestors years ago, Daenerys Targaryen. We gave your forefather, Aegon, the first of his name, dragons from our homeland, we enchanted his Valyrian steel, and we read prophecy concerning both this land and Westeros. For the first time in a very long time, our prophecies have changed, and they have changed to involve you, Khaleesi," she calmly stated.

Now curious, Daenerys thought in the back of her mind to bring this peculiar woman to Viserys in the morning. "What do you mean?" she questioned, wanting to know more.

Satisfied that she had whetted the girl Khaleesi's appetite to know more about her destiny, the other woman continued. "I can only tell you a small piece of the prophecy. But it is said that the one who feels the dragons will one day control the Iron Throne, Khaleesi. I have been tasked by my sisters to ensure this prophecy, no matter the cost."

At those words, Dany looked at her, eyes widened in surprise that this woman seemed to know about her eggs.