Author's Note

I do not own Game of Thrones.

Viserys insisted that he, Jaemar, and Saeherys stay with the Khalasar as they travelled to Vaes Dothrak to gain some sort of acceptance for Daenara's marriage to Drogo. It was the entire opposite direction to where they wanted to be, but Daenara was glad of their presence. At least she was not to be on her own with the savages in this strange new world.

Her second night with Drogo was the same as the first as he slipped into their tent in the dead of night and tried to force himself on her. She bit him that time, and he backhanded her hard enough to leave a bruise. Jaemar was furious and went so far as to voice intentions to kill him. If not for Saeherys draping herself over his shoulders and crooning calming words in his ear he might well have done.

As they rode Daenara heard Drogo bemoaning 'beauty' and 'fool's horse' to his bloodriders.

"You're supposed to be making him happy," Viserys complained.

"I am a dragon of the House Targaryen. We don't lay with the beasts of the field."

It continued like that, until on the fifth night, when he made no attempt to force it. She pushed him against the wall of the tent, sunk her nails into his skin like claws so deep she drew blood, bit his shoulder, and it was tolerable if not enjoyable. Oh, she was never going to say she liked it – not with a man that wasn't her husband – but it got easier as the days passed.

Saeherys was still refusing to let Viserys anywhere near her. The first and only time he tried a stunt like Drogo's she left a long bloody gash down his face with her dagger.

(the dothraki laughed openly at the beggar khal without a throne who couldn't even take his own wife)

Still, the endless riding was tiring for all of them. Even in their past lives they had never spent this much time on horseback. When they travelled they did it through the skies, gliding on massive wings that shadowed the land beneath them and bathing their enemies in fire.

For a long time they had believed they would never do that again.

Now though-

Now they had a chance.

They had the eggs.

They could hatch new dragons, they could defend their Kingdom, and they could defeat the monsters in the cold with fire and vengeance.

Each of them carried one of the eggs: Jaemar the black and red, Saeherys the cream and gold, and Daenara the green and bronze. They could feel the life within them, sense it there, and every night they placed the eggs upon a brazier to keep them warm, but so far they still seemed dormant. Of course there was more than one way to persuade an egg to hatch, but it had to be done right, at the right time. One couldn't force it, or the hatchling would be sickly, deformed.

And still their hearts yearned.

Also travelling with them was the Westerosi man, Jorah Mormont, who proved to be an endless supply of support, advice, and irritation.

Fuck was he annoying!

Daenara stopped her horse by the trail to watch the Khalasar pass and rest a moment, stroking the egg in the leather bag at her side. When it hatched she could fly again.

(though not on her own wings and not like she once had, it wouldn't be like before)

Viserys complained sometimes about them carrying the eggs with them like that, but dragons needed love and heat, not the darkness and silk of that chest. Mormont stopped at her side. "You need to drink child."

"I've drunk plenty thank you," she replied, urging her horse on. He trotted beside her.

"You should eat." He held out a piece of dried horse jerky. Daenara took it and stuffed it in one of her saddlebags.

"Thank you for your advice ser."

Jaemar brought his horse alongside hers. "How are you sister?"

"Oh, how do you think I am? I'm tired, I'm sore, I've only eaten horsemeat for a week, and this one won't leave me alone!" She jerked a thumb at Mormont. "I want to go home."

It was childish, but she wanted King's Landing, which they had raised from the ground where there was an army waiting; she wanted Dragonstone, all the way across the sea, where they could be safe and comfortable and warm, and prepare plans for the many battles to come.

Viserys rode his horse up from behind them. "I want to go home too, but they took it from us. So tell me sweet sister, how do we go home?"

Daenara gazed out at the endless grassland and huge sky above them. The world had never felt so unfamiliar. It was so far away from what she occasionally still dreamt of that sometimes she wondered if that had ever been real. Targaryens were said to be either mad or great, and maybe they were just mad ones with these memories that didn't match up.

"I don't know."

"We go home with an army. With Khal Drogo's army. Which he is currently taking in the wrong direction!"

"He wants a blessing from the sacred city for our marriage."

Viserys snorted and directed his horse away. Daenara sighed heavily. Mormont gave her a long look and followed. That night she stared at her dragon egg as she knelt over Drogo. He smiled up at her. She smiled back.

Days ticked by and slowly they adjusted to the Dothraki lifestyle. The constant riding got easier, and they took it as preparation for a time when they could once again fly on dragonback. Still the eggs refused to hatch, dormant and silent. Incubation wasn't working; they were cold stone. They needed something else, something more.

Jaemar often sparred with the men of the Khalasar, using a borrowed arakh or his short sword. The other remained wrapped up safely in his saddlebags. [hs1] Daenara watched the fighting, observing the fighting styles. At last one evening she stood and walked over. "Mind if I join you?"

The Dothraki men laughed and nudged at each other while keeping a respectable distance from the Khal's wife. Jaemar shrugged. "Me it is then."

She jumped at him before he could finish the sentence.

Khal Drogo emerged from his tent to find his wife and her brother quite enthusiastically beating back six of his men.

He roared with laughter and approval.

When they sold him a Valyrian princess, he took her for her beauty, but she was more than that, a proud, wild footed mare who ran her own lands or none at all.

Daenara was allowed to fight with the men after that, though the first man to draw blood had a blade across his throat courtesy of Drogo.

"You didn't need to do that my love," she told him.

"He hurt you," he replied, kissing her cut arm.

"It was just a little swipe. I've taken worse."

"From who? Who has done this to my wife?" His hand found his weapon. "I will kill them and bring you their heads!"

Daenara smiled. "Don't worry my love. They're already dead men."

Long dead men.

Viserys's troubles with Saeherys continued. He had thought he was marrying the meeker sister, the more pliable and obedient one, and giving away the more troublesome one, but as it turned out, Saeherys was just as much trouble when she wanted to be.

And where it came to her marriage to Viserys, she wanted to be.

At last came the day when he decided to push the issue. He was sick of people laughing at him, of the humiliation of not even being able to command his own wife let alone the army he needed to take back his throne. "You are my wife! You need to perform your duties!"

"There's not exactly much household supervision to do out here dear brother."

"Be careful of waking the dragon sister. You know what I mean!"

Saeherys folded her arms across her chest. "Spell it out for me."

"Sex."

"Not until the day seas turn dry and the sun burns cold."

There had been rumours of course, whispers about her fidelity, but she only ever loved one man, only ever married one man, and only ever slept with one man.

Viserys grabbed her arms, shook her, and threw them both to the ground, ripping at her clothes. Saeherys screamed and smacked him. He smacked her back. She drew her dagger and drove it hilt deep into his arm.

Viserys screamed.

He screamed so loud the entire khalasar heard.

He screamed so loud many of the khalasar drew their weapons and started running, looking for a rival khalasar attacking.

Saeherys shoved him off and rolled into a crouch. He roared and stumbled to his feet, rushing at her. She darted aside and left a line of scarlet down his chest.

"You little bitch!"

She flashed him her teeth.

"You- You dare- Injure me! Me! I am the dragon! I am your king! I am your husband!"

Saeherys snarled softly. "You are pathetic and I will never let you touch me."

Saeherys walked out of the tent. Viserys charged after her, borrowed sword in hand. She stepped aside and his swipe swung wide. He screamed in frustration.

"You really should get that arm seen to before you lose too much blood dear brother."

He roared and lunged for her again. Again she dodged and he missed. By now many of the Dothraki men had gathered round, cheering for the fight and laughing at the crownless King getting a rather thorough thrashing from his pretty little wife.

"You- You are my wife!"

"Consider this marriage annulled."

Drogo too had shoved his way over, drawn by the long white hair and fearing for his pretty wife. Once he saw it was the other woman, her sister, he waited for the outcome. So too was the ever present Jorah Mormont watching, with a little more concern.

"You can't do that."

She snorted. "It's not like we ever consummated it dear brother."

He howled and brought the sword down over her head. She skipped aside and kicked him in the side, followed by the knees, knocking him firmly on his bum. The Dothraki roared with approval.

"Mormont!" Viserys screamed. "Teach this little wench her place!"

Jaemar appeared behind the Westerosi and jabbed his blade into his side.

"Interfere and I'll kill you."

The look in his eyes said it was the truth. Jorah held his hands up. "I won't interfere."

Saeherys glared down at the man people said was her brother. "Two choices now Viserys. You can walk away and get your arm seen to." She counted it off on her fingers. "Or we can end this the Dothraki way."

She brought the knife over her throat pointedly. Viserys spluttered.

"What do you want?"

Many of the Dothraki were baying for blood or shouting 'take ear!' 'take finger!' 'take hair!' 'take manhood!' at her.

Viserys stumbled to his feet, grabbed his sword, and jabbed a finger at her. "You- You'll regret this, you hear me? You'll pay for this!" He staggered over to Jorah and could be heard whining about whether 'these savages had a maester.'

"There's a medicine woman," Jorah assured him, and led him away.

Drogo clasped Saeherys's arm. "You fight well for a woman sister."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you, but it's not exactly hard to beat a man like him."

Drogo roared and clapped her on the back, sending the young woman staggering forward. Jaemar was there to catch her arm.

She grinned at him lopsidedly.

Part of her wished Viserys had gone for the Dothraki style option.

Now they had to find another way to get rid of him.

That marked the end of Viserys and Saeherys's short lived marriage. It was a less than traditional parting, and of course, it still existed on paper – which was going to eventually be a problem - but Viserys was very wary of her temper and pushing matters again.

The new Dothraki arakh, a gift from Drogo himself, hung at her waist certainly helped too.

(and the rumours that made it back to king robert said they were angry, vengeful, fighting with each other, tearing themselves apart)