It felt somewhat strange to finally have her own room, yet also deeply satisfying.

Dany couldn't fall asleep for the life of her. Despite how tired she physically felt, her eyes would not stay shut. The anticipation of the following day finally arriving was building up inside of her chest like a twisting, rising flame.

Her name day was approaching fast, and she counted down the passing moments with much excitement yet also, she now realized, an alarming sense of panic. In a few more hours she would finally reach ten years of age. She had been waiting for this day for months, years even; now that it was finally here, she felt a great sense of trepidation surfacing within her, weaving its dark tendrils around her insides and cutting through her more pleasant emotions.

But no—Dany pushed these thoughts aside, frowning at the moonlight streaming in through the window as if it could see her discontent. She was turning ten and she was growing older—she was just going to have to deal with the changes as they came.

Earlier that day, Viserys had left without saying where he was going or what he was even planning on doing. He didn't communicate much to her anymore, especially after he had accused her of betraying him to Old Yvanna the week before. Daenerys couldn't disagree with him more. She had defended him in front of the woman, had kept herself calm and collected when the woman had prodded her for information in regards to their parents. And then there he was, accusing her of having done something as stupid as breaking his trust. It made her furious just to think about it. Did he honestly think so little of her?

The Targaryen prince hadn't come back home. Hours had passed with Dany watching the sun's progression across the sky as it changed the landscape from one color to the next. As sure as the sun moved in the sky every day and the moon surfaced every night to wink at her, Dany was changing in ways she didn't think it too wise to linger on. It made her reflect on the images she had seen in the Lyseni prince's book so many months before, those forbidden words and illustrations burning behind her closed lids every time she tried to fall asleep.

When she awoke the next morning, it was to a pair of lilac jewels floating above her face. She gasped and blinked, the image coming into focus, her brother's thin, sharp face materializing as if out of thin air.

"Viserys," she gasped sleepily, sitting up on her elbows. "What're you—what are you doing in my room?"

His mouth curled into what looked like a pleased smirk, his eyes raking her linen-covered form.

"It's your name day, sweet sister. I thought I would come and wake you up with a kiss."

"A kiss?" Daenerys' heart was thudding against her chest so hard she feared he might hear it.

Viserys sat himself on the edge of her bed, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

"I take it you don't want a kiss?"

"No—I mean, yes, I want the kiss, but—" She searched his composed, handsome features, her cheeks and the back of her neck suddenly feeling too hot. "May I have just a moment to freshen up properly?"

"Freshen up," he mused, his smirk widening into a flashing smile. "What sort of kiss do you think I have in mind, Dany?"

Her brother didn't wait for her reply. Balancing himself on one hand he leaned over her, pressing his lips to her forehead. The kiss was rougher than what she remembered his kisses to be, although that might have been an effect caused by his facial hair. Viserys seemed to be growing more and more of it lately, and she would always notice the stark difference between his soft, freshly shaved face, and the scratchy texture of it when he didn't even bother for days. The self-proclaimed King of Westeros lowered his head then, his lips against one cheek, and then the other, causing a shiver to run down Daenerys' spine. When he pulled back to smirk at her, it took the girl much will power not to look away from his searching gaze.

"Viserys," she breathed, and he shook his head slightly, although at what, she couldn't quite tell.

"You're looking pale, sweet sister," he said, pressing a hand against her forehead as his face grew serious. "Are you feeling well?"

"Dragons don't get sick," she huffed, suddenly exasperated and wondering how in the world she looked pale when her body felt as warm as dragon's breath. He stood up then, helping her off the bed, his hand cool against her own.

"That is good to hear, although I remember you being very sick on the ship—"

"No, that was different." He shrugged almost indifferently, letting go of her hand. "May I freshen up now?"

Viserys nodded. "I have something for you."

He disappeared from her room and returned shortly after, a pale, flowing piece of material in his hands.

"I found it yesterday whilst wandering through the High City. I immediately thought of you upon seeing it. Cost me more than what it's probably worth, but I hope it…" He swallowed then, looking—nervous? No, Dany recanted, Viserys was never nervous. "I hope you like it," he finally said, pressing the material into her waiting hands.

Once she was bathed and dressed in her new gown, Dany found herself knocking on her brother's door, eager to look at herself in his full-length mirror. It was the only mirror in Yvanna's house which wasn't small, and now that she thought about it, the woman had moved it into the room mostly for Daenerys's sake. Perhaps she would ask Viserys to move it into her room, now that she had her own. The thought was oddly comforting.

"Yes, come in," was his muffled reply.

"Remarkable," was all he said when she was finally standing before him, nervously smoothing down her dress.

"You think so? It's not too big—just here—in the front?" she asked self-consciously, motioning to her chest. Her brother chuckled and came around his desk, the look on his face far too predatory for her liking. Perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned anything in regards to her chest. Not that there was anything actually there, she reminded herself bitterly.

"Nonsense. Come, look for yourself," he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her in front of the mirror so he stood behind her. "But, Dany—you never laced up the back. Silly girl." She gazed at her reflection while he tightened the strings of her dress, pulling the material so tightly against her body that she gasped and clutched the edge of the glass before her. "It's not as loose in front now, is it?"

"No, it's…perfect," she breathed. And it was. Dany loved the way the smooth material clung to her body, emphasizing the soft curves of her hips, and hiding the lack of curves on her chest with its embroidered designs. The sleeves were white and lacy, matching the hemline and the flowery embroidery on her chest, and the dress itself was a cool, gorgeous lavender.

"It matches your eyes," Dany commented, her gaze finding his in the mirror. Viserys' mouth curled in what was an almost sheepish manner, his hands resting on her shoulders gently. Daenerys couldn't help but wonder, for one short, nearly intangible moment, what was really going on in his mind.

"I was looking for something a little darker to match your eyes, but that was the only purple shade I could find. Is it not to your liking?"

"I already said it's perfect," Dany reassured, one hand reaching up to touch his.

"Yet…?"

"Yet nothing, Viserys." She turned around to look at him, her hand still in his. "Why must something be wrong? It's my name day today, and I've been looking forward to it for so long. I'm so pleased with this present. Thank you, dear brother." She paused for a mere moment. "In fact, I can't even remember any other birthday when I felt as happy. Can we just enjoy ourselves?"

"Yes," he said, looking taken aback. "Of course, dear sister."

Dinner that night consisted of duck roasted in butter and herbs, freshly baked bread, three different kinds of cheese, boiled eggs, and wild-berry pie. Old Yvanna and Viserys were on their best behaviors, Dany could tell, and it seemed to the girl as if each was trying to get along with the other solely for her sake. Ever since the woman had snapped at Viserys the week previous, Dany had rarely seen them talking to one another.

"So how do ya like the pie?" Yvanna asked, pouring a cup of ale for herself and one for Viserys. "I baked it me'self, even though ya brother here didn't deem it a worthy enough task for him, so he declined to help me." Dany noticed her brother's mouth twitching as if he were fighting a smile, raising his cup slowly from the table.

"Why Lady Yvanna, I was simply outshined by your brilliance in the kitchen," he said, taking a sip of the thick, dark liquid. "Had I helped, the pie may not have come out quite so delicious."

"Oh, come off it with ya flattery, boy," the woman said, but the corners of her mouth lifted in amusement. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was better than nothing.

"I think all the food is excellent," Daenerys supplied, digging into her dessert and finding out that her brother hadn't been lying; the pie was the most delicious thing she had tasted in a long time. Of course Yvanna's cooking was far above average. Dany sometimes wondered if the woman had cooked for nobleman at one point in her life, since selling meat sticks and pies on the streets of the Low City seemed like such a waste of her obvious talents.

"May I have some?" Dany asked, indicating the pitcher filled with ale. She didn't look to see Yvanna's response, but instead fixed her gaze on her brother, hoping he would allow her this small freedom on her name day.

Viserys' eyes were darker than usual, but the slight shake of his head was hard to miss. Yvanna grinned wide, flashing her two golden teeth as she grabbed the pitcher of ale.

"Here—"

"On second thought," Dany managed, "I'd rather just have the fruit juice, Lady Yvanna."

The woman shrugged and waved her hand, grabbing the glass pitcher instead of the ceramic one, the blood-orange liquid inside swirling with her every movement.

"Lady this and lady that. You're both o' noble blood. Why ya insist on callin' me a lady is—"

"It is because we have such noble blood that we do so, my lady."

If Dany had been holding anything at that moment, such as a fork or a cup, she might have dropped it. Hearing her brother addressing the woman in such a manner was shocking; she had heard Viserys address her politely most of their time at the farmhouse, yet the way Yvanna's eyes had widened at his response was clear that the woman herself had never heard such emphasis on his calling her a lady before tonight.

Daenerys narrowed her eyes, attempting to discern the real reason behind his new-found show of respect. There was a cool, mischievous flare in his eyes, and they were darker than usual; it was making her feel dreadfully tense. Daenerys knew her brother never did anything without expecting something for it, and especially where strangers were concerned. 'Equivalent exchange' was one of his sayings, although these exchanges were rarely ever equivalent in truth. Dany herself didn't consider Old Yvanna a stranger, yet she knew Viserys looked upon everyone who wasn't related to them as a stranger. And seeing as they were the last Targaryens alive in the world, she was the only person he would sometimes—quite rarely, as it was—offer something to without asking for something in return.

Viserys met her gaze once more. His smile was elegant and deadly, causing a tremor to go down her spine at the greedy look in his eyes. Ah, the princess thought, so there is something he wants in exchange. Dany had a worrying feeling that it wasn't Old Yvanna who would pay that price...