This was desperation. One that sang of sweltering midday heat and festered rot and circled around the two little beggars. Viserys had sold the last of what he was willing to part with, their treasures and memories scattered around to become dusty relics. He held the crown close to him still. When his fingers traced over it, he could see his small and thin fingers that had peeled it away from his mother and as she lay cut from forehead to navel. He could not part with it for anything. This was what kept him going, knowing they truly were Targaereyns, noble and rightful heirs to the Throne. He would make Rhaegar proud of him.
Rhaegar would not be proud now, as Viserys shuddered in the freezing night air, robe clutching Dany's shoulders as tears streaked her face.
"I'm hungry," she had said tentatively, wary of angering him.
"I know. I'm sorry. Why don't we pretend what we'll eat when we're home?"
She didn't reply, only staring into the distance looking gravely ill. He hadn't seen his own reflection in quite some time but with the stares they received he imagined he must look particularly awful.
"Oi! What are you doing?"
The owner of the house they sat outside came to chase them off but Viserys was too defeated to move. He simply held Dany tighter and looked at her with defiance.
"This is private property," the woman glared at them, wondering if they were deaf or stupid.
"Isn't all property owned by someone, somewhere?"
"Yes but not by you. Now clear off!"
Just as Viserys stood from the shadows another woman appeared in the doorway. She clutched her companion's arm and nodded in his direction.
"Didn't you say this was just what we needed."
Viserys was in no mood for riddles.
"Come on, Dany."
"Do you want food, boy?"
He stopped when Daenerys squeezed his hand. Looking at her beautiful round eyes, he relented.
"What's the price?"
"No price," she said happily. "We'll pay you."
"Pay us to eat," he scoffed. "What kind of-"
He shut up quickly when a man almost twice his size stepped through the doorway.
"Causing trouble?"
"We were just leaving," he replied hastily, noting how the man's eyes lingered on his hair.
"Please can we have food," Dany asked him, innocent of the situation. It didn't take him long to realise that his pride could carry a price and that it would need to go. He would gladly sell that before the crown.
"You'll look after my sister," he asked the second woman, seemingly the kinder of the two.
"Like she was my own," she smiled and stepped aside for them both to enter. It was warm inside, fires lapping happily in little grates. The smell of something delicious licked at his tastebuds and it was comforting. There were more women who took Dany into one of the little rooms, reassuring him that she was safe, not something good people tend to argue with such force. The woman motioned for him to follow her and he tried to take in the shabby luxury surrounding him. There were fine silks and soft bedding strewn around, dishes of sweet meats and decanters of wine. She noted where his eyes lingered and she lifted the polished bronze plate of cakes, offering one to him. He was so hungry he was tempted to take her hand with it but this could bode well for them both if he played well.
"Is that all you have," he asked, fingers hovering over the moist cake, barely touching.
"For the moment, yes."
He withdrew his fingers, flashing her a smile he had known Rhaegar to perfect.
"You should save them, they are yours after all."
He knew by the quizzical expression she held that he had caught her off guard. He very much intended to play the game.
"You understand you will have to earn your keep here?"
"I do. Though I hope you understand that my sister is not included in the price."
"We do not harm children here."
Viserys nodded briefly, holding Himself as his father always taught him. Walk as though you are the dragon, the King. A King is just and powerful and he never begs, he bargains.
"When do I begin?"
"This night should you wish to stay. Mizarh will judge your skill and then you will serve wine until you learn."
Viserys felt strangely insulted.
"I am a quick learner."
"I am sure," she replied.
"But you will feed her," he asked, anxiety creeping into his words.
"She will eat, yes."
She fussed around small details then, lighting candles and burning incense. Viserys held his few belongings close, only hiding them once she had left the room. His mind was clouded with hunger and racing with fear. This was not what Kings did. Though he knew they strove towards the greater good. This was only temporary until they had enough to move on, to find their allies and gather their army. For now he would have to be smart, to find a strategy to keep himself and Dany safe. He tried to calm himself but jumped when a figure appeared in the doorway.
"You do not need to fear me," he said as he stepped into the candlelight. He was young, far younger than someone Viserys imagined would run a brothel. He could not say he thought him attractive. Viserys had never considered attraction towards anyone but Danaereys for when she would be his Queen but he supposed if this was to be his lot it wasn't starting off as horribly as he had first imagined. And after all, he was a dragon. And dragons cared nothing for pride or dignity, only fire.
"What is your name," the man asked him as he stepped closer, reaching for a cup on the table.
"You first," he replied, raising his chin in defiance. Only by playing a strategy could he know if it would work. The man looked up at him as he poured the wine.
"That is not how this works."
"I wouldn't be so certain about things that work or those that do not," he replied, his eyes gesturing down past the man's navel.
"You are funny," he said dryly, handing the cup to Viserys. "Drink. It is not poison."
"That is a matter of taste," he said smoothly. He began to realise he had made the right choice here. He was not going to be subservient. He would kneel to no one.
"Take off your clothes," the man named Mizarh commanded him.
"I will for a bath. And nothing less."
He thought he might strike him but Viserys found he didn't particularly care. Instead the man chuckled and nodded.
"Quite the prince."
"King," Viserys replied sternly.
"Do not go too far."
He watched in concealed amazement as a large brass tub was carried in, the men carrying it looking at Viserys in confusion. It took a long time for it to be filled and so Viserys tried very hard to seem uninterested in the whole affair. He knew he could not solve their situation by running away from money and shelter and food but perhaps if things were too awful he could at least leave having had a bath. Once more he was left alone with the young man.
"Now. There is your bath," Mizarh raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly curious. "Are you going to say thank you?"
"You didn't pour it," he replied, keeping his back to the man as he undressed.
"It is courteous to show gratitude when you are given something," the man replied, though his tone was increasingly playful.
"I don't often say thank you for headaches."
"Where are you from," he asked suddenly. Viserys ignored him and climbed into the scalding water. It was the most wonderful feeling to sink down beneath the surface, the heat caressing his skin. He emerged from the water, hair soaked and falling across his face. He was startled when he found Mizarh kneeling beside the bath and baffled when the young man began to wash his hair for him. Every touch was gentle and lulled him into a feeling of contentment.
"You are getting soap in my eyes," he drawled, determined to regain the power.
"Then close them," Mizarh replied, his lips brushing against Viserys' ear.
"I prefer to keep my enemies where I can see them." His heart beat in a panic when a hand snaked across his bare chest.
"Surely you can feel me."
The only thing he felt was Sickness. The heady scent of incense inflaming his nostrils, his tired eyes stinging with soapy water and his resolve fading.
"What will I be paid," he asked, his voice shaking. The hand stopped in its movement south. Viserys could feel the breath tickling his neck, lips brushing his pale skin.
"I can't say I know the going rate for a dragon."
His heart stopped.
"A...dragon?"
"Hair like this you could pass for dragonblood," Mizarh whispered with a laugh. "I imagine you'll have a high price. Plenty of people have fantasies about dragons. Your fiery nature could sell the whole thing, if you can make it believable."
"I am a dragon," Viserys replied.
"Very good. Keep going," he began to kneed the muscles in the young princes shoulders and though he tried to stop himself he groaned with the pleasurable touch.
"Relax," he kissed the back of his neck.
"I am of house Targaereyn, we are the last of the dragons."
"Good. Speak some Valeryan," Mizarh encouraged, enjoying the fantasy. Viserys almost obliged and had to catch himself.
"I do not know any."
"Nor me, make it up. This is what people will pay for, fantasy."
Viserys cringed as the man touched him more intimately than anyone ever had.
"Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor."
The hand stopped.
"Say that again."
"How could I," Viserys sneered. "You asked me to make it up."
"Are you hungry?"
Viserys pulled away and nodded, wrapping his arms around himself in disgust.
"I will bring you something to eat."
The man left abruptly and Viserys wasn't sure if he should climb out. There were no clothes besides his own so he left the bath and put them on, soaked through in minutes. He strained to listen as he heard whispers outside his door. Panic. Pure panic set in. He had given them both away in his arrogance.
"Hello, sweet one," the woman entered, simpering. "Forgive me, you must be famished. She shooed him over to a cushion and pressed him down into it. Mizarh carried with him a tray of meat and breads and Viserys ate hastily, afraid they would take it away. They watched him with fascination, Mizarh occasionally stroking his hair and encouraging him to eat and drink. They tray of cakes appeared once more.
"Mizarh tells me you are very good at impersonations," the woman said with a sickly smile, her heavily lined eyes blinking rapidly. "And we get all sorts of people with very...unusual tastes. Many are hungry for the fire of a dragon."
"The dragons are gone," Viserys replied, swallowing the food. "Everyone knows that."
"Yes, sweetling. That is why we call it a fantasy. You understand what that means?"
Viserys almost rolled his eyes.
"You wish me to act as a Targaeryen?"
They both looked at each other, joyous this was going as they wanted it to.
"People will pay a handsome fee for such a thing."
"And Dany will be untouched?"
They glanced to each other then.
"I will not go back on my word," she replied. That wasn't good enough for Viserys. Once there was a hint that she was in trouble they would leave but for now he enjoyed the comforting feeling of being clean.