Sister's Keeper
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 2: It Began Today
I dreaded this day. Sixteen years I watched over my sweet sister Dany, protecting her the best to my ability. Saving her innocents from lechers, savages, and corrupt men. Now, her fate was out of my hand and into a warlord. I pray to the Seven that he is not like other Dothraki Chieftain. Let alone, her first experience of intimacy not like the stories.
The doors opened to my chambers as Viserys came in. He was happy, pleased on the marital arrangement with the greatest warlord in the grasslands. Privately, I had a word with Magister Illyrio about the Dothraki customs of marriage. The host assured me, that Daenerys will walk up to Khal Drogo and he shall decide if she is to his satisfaction or not. When I asked him how we shall know if Daenerys was to his satisfaction or not? The Magister assured me, we will know. I was not pleased with his answer. So, I searched through his library on Dothraki culture. Unfortunate, there were none.
Viserys came over to the balcony where I was sewing his new formal tunic for the wedding. Days of nonstop embroidery to form House Targaryen crest of a red three-headed dragon. Along with details of scales along the collar and sleeves. He walked behind me massaging my shoulders causing me to tense that I forced myself to relax.
"Alysanne, your muscles are tense," he murmured.
"Forgive me, I did not sleep well last night," I said. "As the saying goes, woke up on the wrong side of the bed."
"Is the mattress not to your satisfaction?" he asked. "My queen deserves everything."
"The mattress is fine," I answered, resting my hand on his. Adjusting to face him, "You may say, I was fighting the resistance of leather."
As I presented him his tunic for the wedding. Viserys grabbed the rich fabric examining it, analyzing every specific detail. I made sure I used to proper fabrics and the shades of red. Magister Illyrio kindly purchased the beads and expensive threads suitable for a king. A pleased smile graced his lips.
"You are talented with your needlework," he murmured. "Mother would be proud."
I smiled softly at the mention of Mother. How I miss her so. Even though I didn't have a secure memory of my childhood in King's Landing as Viserys. I do remember bits and pieces. I remember my room, high in a tower where the only selected people were there: Mother, Viserys, the Wet-nurse, Septa, and two Kingsguard. Ser Willem told me his brother Ser Jonothor Darry was one of my protectors, while the second protector switched between Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Harlan Grandison, and Ser Oswell Whent. I remembered my niece Princess Rhaenys, her soft tan skin, dark hair with a sliver of silver and deep brown eyes. We played under watchful eyes of the adults, where Mother and Elia sat by while Rhaegar would play his harp. On stormy nights, Rhaegar would bring Rhaenys to my chambers and read us stories.
From those rare memories, I still recall my Mothers face. She had long silver hair, always left down to cover her pale skin dabbled in bruises and scars. A sadden face, trying to keep a mask in front of us yet when around her children her purples eyes smiled. Those purple eyes that resembled irises. She would hold me in her arms and called me her "Golden Dragon." Unlike my siblings whose white hair hold a tint of silver, in a certain light, there is a hint of gold in mine. Father, on the other hand, I do not recall very well. I remember a sickly old man with long tangle white hair, pale eyes, and long fingernails. Viserys always said Father was always busy in ruling a kingdom.
But it didn't stop the rumors I heard during our travels through the Free Cities. Our Host gossiping behind our back or the nannies whispering in the halls. They proclaim King Aerys the Second was mad. Sickness in the mind that he would burn people alive with Wildfire if he so much as thinks a person was going to kill him. The rumors deepen, learning more of my family hearing that Rhaegar stolen a woman name Lyanna Stark from the North who was promised to Robert Baratheon. Baffling since he was married to Elia Martell. When Lord Rickard Stark and his son Brandon went to King's Landing to retrieve the young woman…my father burned them alive with wildfire. The taking of Lyanna was a spark while burning Lord Rickard, and Brandon Stark was the fuel that started the rebellion.
I never told my siblings this. Viserys honored our brother Rhaegar and our Father. Mentioning these rumors and accusations infuriates him that you cannot predict his outburst.
"Thank you," I said.
"You should get ready," Viserys announced. "I cannot present my Queen in your attire."
I forced a small chuckle since I was still in my evening gown. Standing up, I took the tunic and put it away, so it doesn't get a wrinkle. A servant presented a dress for the occasion. It was a sheath down with cape sleeves and a V-neck. It was in the color lilac. Viserys took a seat watching the view. His lilac eyes being a predator gazing at its prey along with a smirk. I knew what that smirk meant a dreaded it.
Once dressed, I sat by the vanity where the servant brushed my hair and put it in elaborate braids. She took a vial of perfume of Viserys favorite fragrance and dabbed it on my neck. Once she was done, Viserys told her to leave. I sat at the vanity, indigo eyes watching him approach through the mirror's reflection. He stood behind me, resting his hands on my shoulder. Not saying a word, he opened the jewelry box and pulled out Mother's necklace and secured it around my neck, followed by the Targaryen brooch.
"Beautiful," he murmured into my ear that sent a shudder down my spine. "I always forget how beautiful you look."
"Thank you," I managed to say.
"Will you allow me in your bed tonight," he asked.
My stomach twists. Not wanting to deal with his wrath, I nodded which he grins and kissed my cheek. There must be something wrong with me. We were Targaryens. We should be attracted to one another. And yet, I hold no attraction or desire for Viserys. I feel disgusted every time he is inside me, and ashamed on other sexual acts. Most in which leave bruises on my body. It was either his way or a beating.
"Come, we must present Dany her gift," Viserys said.
.o0o.
Viserys rushed into Daenerys apartment where she was preparing for the ceremony. I went after him, to make sure nothing happens. Although, based on how excited Viserys was, I'm convinced he won't torment her. But it's safe to follow to be sure. Entering her quarters seeing it absent, Viserys walked into the bathing chambers. There Daenerys was stood on the balcony observing the views of Pentos. She turned around, her violet eyes nervous as she walked over to us. The past two years Viserys has been on his good behavior since the loss of our child. However, you never know when his behavior will change.
"Daenerys! There's our bride-to-be." Viserys said, walking over presenting the dress. "Look, a gift from Illyrio. Touch it. Go on, feel the fabric."
Daenerys quietly touched her wedding dress. She looked up seeing how happy Viserys was.
"Mm. Isn't he a gracious host?" Viserys asked.
"We've been his guests for over a year, and he's never asked us for anything," Daenerys murmured.
"Illyrio's no fool," Viserys said. "He knows I won't forget my friends when I come into my throne."
Daenerys nodded, her posture uneven. Slouching was one of her bad habits. One Viserys tried to break. He handed me the dress while he attempted to fix her posture.
"You still slouch," he said. His hands going to the back of her dress, unlacing her halter causing the fabric to fall. "Let them see." He examined her body, focus on her breast. "You have a woman's body now." He sighed touching her breast. "I need you to be perfect today. Can you do that for me?"
Daenerys couldn't answer petrified in what happened.
"You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?" Viserys asked.
"She has butterflies, Viserys," I said. "I to was nervous before our wedding. Unable to speak."
Viserys gazed at me with a smile. Our wedding in how our Host organized it was the most beautiful event in his eyes while it was hell for me. But saying it, made Viserys forget his threat on Dany. He gave me a peck on the lip and started walking out of the room. He stopped by the door, facing us.
"When they write the history of my reign, sweet sister, they will say it began today." He said and left.
Once he was gone, Daenerys and I heaved a heavy sighed. I apologized to her, knowing the promise I made that he would never touch her. The past week Magister Illyrio wanting to protect Daenerys maidenhead, posted guards in case Viserys dares commands the First Night. Sadly, what happened a moment ago…happened so fast. She merely nodded, stepping out of her dress and walked towards the pool where her bath was. One of the servants rushed to stop her.
"It's too hot, my lady." She said.
Yet she continued in until sitting on the bench. Unlike most people, we Targaryens are unable to feel pain when it comes to heat. Or at least Daenerys and I. What people would say the water is boiling when in fact it is the perfect temperature. Some host thinks we have a higher tolerance since Old Valyria runs in our veins. Either way, nothing was too hot.
Setting the dress on the table. I grabbed a brush and sat on the ledge grooming her hair. She sighed, relaxing to my touch.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't find you a perfect match," I said.
"Viserys always has the final say," Daenerys mumbled.
"At least you're not marrying him," I tried to reason.
Daenerys turned around taking my hand. "You deserve better. What he does to you…its…its…"
I took her hand and stopped her. My fate to Viserys was set in stone. We are Targaryens, and we have to keep the family line pure. Even though I would rather marry another man, Father would have wanted this. A pure line since Rhaegar was married to Elia. I pray that Daenerys's husband-to-be is different from all the information Magister Illyrio proclaimed. That he will not treat my sister like a whore and respect her. But I knew those are mere lies. Men take what they want, and we as women allow it. We were second class; our word is not heard unless we were the last of our house.
Taking a deep breath, I focused on getting Daenerys ready to meet her husband. To prepare her for the ceremony. Once she was done with her bath, lather in lotions and perfumes. I braided two strands of hair to form a band on her head and help her in her dress. The dress was a sheath gown, sleeveless and exposed her cleavage. On each of her shoulders were silver brooches of a three-headed dragon, signifying our House.
I examined her, seeing how magnificent she was. Almost resembling Mother. I kissed her forehead as we made way to join the others.
.o0o.
The Ceremony took place at the front of the estate. All forty Magisters of Pentos, including the Prince of Pentos, were present as the servants provided shade. On the landing, Viserys stood beside Magister Illyrio while Daenerys and I stood behind them. Viserys in the ceremonial attire of green and gold that I sewed for him a few weeks ago when confirmation of the match was set. We stood in the sun, waiting for the Dothraki Chieftain and his blood riders.
Viserys grew impatient, "Where is he?"
"The Dothraki are not known for their punctuality," Illyrio explained.
A sound of galloping horses could be heard. We stood tall presenting ourselves as strong rulers as a group of riders appeared at the entrance. There were several of the Dothraki, men half dressed, clad in leather and hide. All muscular, with dark hair, copper-tone skin, and robust facial features. One, in particular, stood out, being the biggest of them all, striking characteristic of a long braid down his spine.
Magister Illyrio smiled greeting the riders in Dothraki, "Atchomar chomakaan, khal vezhyen. May I present my honored guests? Viserys of House Targaryen, the third of his name, the rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, his sister-wife Alysanne of House Targaryen, and his sister Daenerys of House Targaryen."
Our gracious host walked down to greet Khal Drogo personally. Daenerys was paled in seeing her husband-to-be. As if she was going to faint. Viserys grabbed her, securing her posture.
"Do you see how long his hair is?" He asked quietly. "When Dothraki are defeated in combat, they cut off their braids so the whole world can see their shame. Khal Drogo has never been defeated. He's a savage, of course, but one of the finest killers alive. And you will be his queen. "
Magister Illyrio turned to offer a hand, "Come forward, my dear."
Daenerys took a deep breath and obey. Viserys and I stood where we were observing the supposed ceremony. As Magister Illyrio explained previously, the bride shall walk up to the groom to present herself. There, the groom shall decide if she is to his liking or not. My sweet sister came down, standing before Khal Drogo. His dark eyes linger on her through a neutral face, impossible to tell what he was thinking. A long moment, to which he nodded and rode off with his blood riders.
We were confused, not sure if that was acceptance or rejection. Viserys ran down the steps while I walked over to Magister Illyrio.
"Where is he going?" Viserys asked, near whine.
"The ceremony is over," Magister Illyrio answered.
"But he didn't say anything," I said.
"Did he like her?" Viserys asked.
"Trust me, Your Grace, if he didn't like her, we'd know," Magister Illyrio answered.
All eyes turned to him wondering what he meant by that? Does the Dothraki kill the potential bride if he did not like her? That is barbaric. To judge a woman's worth based on her appearance alone. Not the customs of the Free Cities or what Ser Willem told about Westeros. Catching our bearings from this strange ceremony, we went on a walk through the gardens. Illyrio and Viserys were ahead while Daenerys and I followed behind. They stopped at a terrace looking forward of the Narrow Sea.
"It won't be long now," Magister Illyrio said. "Soo you will cross the Narrow Sea and take back your father's throne. The people drink secret toasts to your health. They cry out for their true king."
Over the year of being the Magister guests, he has confided to Viserys about Westeros from his spies. He states that several loyal houses will be on our side. Our greatest ally is the Martells through a marital union of Princess Elia Martell and Prince Rhaegar, if not being distant cousin since King Daeron the Second who married Princess Mariah Martell. Other Houses who would support us were the Tyrells, Redwynes, Darrys, Greyjoys, and the smallfolk. I question most of these Houses since the Tyrells were an opportunist, once siding with House Targaryen then turncoat when Robert Baratheon murdered Rhaegar at the tridents. The Redwynes were in a marital alliance with House Tyrell, so they too can be a question of their loyalty. The Greyjoys…they were pirates. Ser Willem prayed Balon Rebellion would kill the Usurper Stag leaving an open opportunity to return. Once more, Robert Baratheon won. Other than House Martell, leaves Darrys, since that was Ser Willem family and Ser Jonothor being a brother of the Kingsguard. Viserys doesn't seem to realize this. Then again, he was more focus on House Targaryen's history instead of Westeros.
"When will they be married?" Viserys asked as he started to walk again.
"Soon. The Dothraki never stay still for long," Illyrio answered.
"Is it true they lie with their horses?" Viserys asked.
"I wouldn't ask Khal Drogo," Illyrio advised.
"Do you take me for a fool?" Viserys threatened.
"I take you for a king," Illyrio praised. "Kings lack the caution of common men. My apologies if I've given offense."
"I know how to play a man like Drogo," Viserys said. "I give him a queen, and he gives me an army."
Daenerys stopped, "I don't want to be his queen."
The two men stop facing us.
"I want to go home," she said.
"So do I. So does Alysanne," Viserys said as he came over resting his hand on her shoulder. "I want us both to go home, but they took it from us. So, tell me, sweet sister, how do we go home?"
"I don't know," she mumbled.
"We go home with an army. With Khal Drogo's army," Viserys said, cradling her cheek. "I would let his whole tribe fuck you and Alysanne—all 40,000 men and their horses too if that's what it took."
I forced myself not to scowl or shudder in horrid disgust. Knowing deep down, Viserys would prostitute us in means of winning.
Viserys kissed her Daenerys forehead and stepped back wrapping his arm around me. I looked over my shoulder advising Daenerys not to tempt him. As much as I loathed Viserys the same as she does. Throughout the entire day was spent on wedding preparation. The Prince of Pentos happily arranging it on the rocky shores that merge both Pentos and Dothraki cultures. By nightfall, Daenerys was escorted to her chambers where guards protected her virtue.
I went to my chambers, preparing for the dreadful night. The servants placing fresh silk sheets and lavish pillows on the bed. Lighting candles, and burning incense of sweet aroma. A tray of wine and decadent treats on the table. Once I was changed into an organza robe and hair free from its confines I sat on the bed and waited. Time seemed to past, wondering if Viserys was having a long conversation with Magister Illyrio. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into an hour when there was a knock on the door. Viserys wouldn't knock, he would barge in.
"Who is it?" I called out.
"A servant, my lady," a man replied . "I came to report that his grace won't be attending this evening."
I sighed in relief. "Thank you for the message."
"You're welcome, my lady." The servant said before leaving.
I sat there feeling the weight off my shoulders to sleep in peace tonight. Standing up, I walked over to the table plucking a grape and ate it. Tonight, was mine.
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