Daenery's PoV
Daenerys gazed at herself in the mirror, her breathing tremulous and far too raggedy. She supposed she looked nice. Her foster father Illario had picked out the dress especially for her, but she felt that it was far too low cut for her taste, and clung to closely to her hips. Her blonde hair hung down loosely, but it all felt wrong somehow. She heard her brother enter the room from his heavy strides, and repressed a sigh as she turned to face him. The Targaryen children were very pretty, which matching ash blonde hair, violet eyes, and their skinny figure. However, Daenerys face was often prone to look misreable, a fact her brother hated.
"You look great Dany!" Visery's smiled, and Dany blushed, "How is Khal Drogo going to resist you?"
"Do I have to date him?" She asked quietly, "I don't want to be his prom queen."
Viserys pushed her arm roughly, "You have to be his prom queen, whether you like it or not. Our family were the rulers of prom for over fifty years, but the Robert stole our brothers votes, and expelled him! We have to go back, we can't let us be another part in the great history of prom!"
Daenerys sighed, "But Viserys it's only prom..."
Viserys grabbed her hair, "It's our prom. You are going to date Khal Drogo, and he is going to scare the principal into letting you transfer to Westeros High School, or you are going to regret..." He paused.
"Regret what?" She asked nervously.
"Everything!" He hissed, and grew in confidence, "You will regret everything. And I will ground you until college!" He stormed downstairs, leaving Dany alone in the room.
Illario gave them a lift to school today, and as she left the car he winked at her. She shuddered. Everybody was so creepy nowadays, including her big brother. He pulled her by the arm through Pentos high school, dodging the crowds, until the finally reached the bike sheds, where she saw Khal Drogo, topless apart from a leather jacket, wearing ripped jeans, and his hair in a long ponytail. He was very handsome,s he noticed, but he seemed to be purposely ignoring her. Finally, he walked lazily over, and grinned at her.
"You're pretty," He said.
"So are you," She said shyly, and as everybody laughed she felt Viserys pinch her.
"Pretty is for girls," He said, his mouth twitching his laughter.
"Your hair is for girls," She replied, liking how he looked at her eyes and not her breasts.
He raised an eyebrow, "I'll cut my hair when I loose a fight. I've never lost a fight," He expected her to be impressed, and she was, but she wanted to be something more than just another slutty sixteen year old.
"What have you been fighting?" She asked, "Cats?"
Drogo grinned, "Not cats I can assure you."
"Of course not," She replied, "Cats are far too vicious."
They laughed, even Viserys choking out a fake one, and Drogo touched her hair, "I should call you Cat, as you have sharp claws,"
"I'd rather be called your prom queen," She caught her breath as soon as she had said it, unsure about where this confidence had come from, and sure he would dismiss her. Instead he grinned.
"Ever ridden a motorcycle?" He asked.
