Sister's Keeper
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 6: A Golden Crown
Alysanne's POV
Lately, ever since I'd struck Viserys I've been having these strange dreams. It's hard to explain, as it was a woman who resembles a Targaryen. She stood proud and tall, having the classing Valyrian features: long, silver-gold hair that was braided up in rings and dark purple eyes. She held a harsher, more austere beauty. Wearing a dress made out of chainmail, sleeves of red and gold, and a belt where a medallion of a three-headed dragon. In her hand was a sword, one I recognize in books. Dark Sister.
I assume she was Visenya Targaryen, my ancestral aunt. Her bloodline never made it far as to her son King Maegor the First while King Aegon the Conqueror and Queen Rhaenys continued till today with Viserys, Daenerys and I. Unless you count our distant cousins in House Martell and traitor cousins in House Baratheon. I was confused about why I was having these dreams of the First Queen. Each dream was different from the last. The first was her appearance, and each dream she walks over to me leading towards what could be the beaches of Dragonstone. She tied charms on strings to Dark Sister handle and threw the charms into the water.
"Choose a thread," Visenya said.
"What?" I asked confused.
"We are descended from Daenys the Dreamer, magic is in our blood, Alysanne," Viserys explained. "Now choose a thread. And choose wisely."
I glanced at all the threads that were tied to Dark Sister. All white, no specific detail that gave them away. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes letting instincts choose. I grabbed the one to the side. Visenya drew a dagger and cut the rest of the strings except the one I'd held.
"What were they?" I asked.
"Things that you will never know. Children who will not be born, chances you will not take. They are lost to you." Visenya answered.
"And what will I catch? At the end of this fishing line of yours, Visenya?" I asked.
"The future,"' she answered, handing me a talon. "Reel it in. A foot a day."
I was confused, asking her what she meant. Instead, she walked away as a dragon landed behind me keeping watch. It was Vhagar, as his scales, horns, wings, and the spinal crest was that of flames. His amber eyes looked down on me observing. Irritated, I tried reeling the entire string until the dragon growled giving a warning. Having no choice, I spun in a foot. After a foot of line, I would wake.
Dreams were hard to remember. Once you wake up, they vanish like a distant memory. However, these dreams felt real. Visenya voice so distinctive, the smell of Vhagar's breath, and everything that happened. When I looked at my hands, I notice a faint impression from tying string to one's hand. Shaking the thought that these dreams were real, I got ready for the day.
Today was a Dosh Khaleen Ceremony. Khal Drogo made the announcement that Daenerys was with child, and by tradition present her to the Dosh Khaleen. Where a pregnant Khaleesi must perform a ritual in order to ensure the child is worthy of being Khalakka, an heir to a Khalasar. So, getting dressed, and braiding my hair I got ready for the day. I stopped staring at the ring on my finger that Viserys gave me after our wedding. A golden band in shape of the dragon's tail.
The ceremony it took place at the Center structure, the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen. Many khals were present along with other Khaleesis, bloodriders and their wives, and the Dosh Khaleen. Ser Jorah explained that the Dosh Khaleen were the widows of previous Khals. When it comes to social status, they are the most powerful women in the Dothraki having wisdom received by their husbands' adventures. No man can lay with them: if a Khal, bloodrider, or warrior dares to be intimate or harms them that is not of protection will die. They reminded me of the Septas; women of the Seven, only the Dosh Khaleen doesn't have a choice. A thought lingers in my head that if Khal Drogo dies, Daenerys would be forced to be a Dosh Khaleen. I pray to the Seven we be across the Narrow Sea before that happens. If it ever happens.
Unfortunately, the ceremony was called the Stallion Heart. Daenerys was paled when Irri explained she would eat the heart of a horse. Sadly, she had to eat it raw. Khal Drogo had to find a wild stallion and carve it's heart out with a stone knife and present it to his wife where she will have to eat the entire thing. My sweet sister almost fainted, since she was still adjusting to the Dothraki cuisine. So, Irri and Jhiqui came up with a plan to prepare her for the ceremony the past few days, eating a half cook heart with blood sauce so the Khaleesi can be prepared for the taste and texture. With a pregnant woman stomach…it was hard that I held her hair when she vomited. But she had to do this, in order to make her child a Khalakka. Otherwise, the entire Khalasar won't see the child as an heir.
I stood by Ser Jorah observing the first half of the ceremony; Khal Drogo was outside and took a stone knife and killed the stallion. He cut out its heart and proudly presented it to Daenerys who stood on a platform. Nervous, she accepted the organ and hesitantly started to eat it. Viserys came over to Ser Jorah and me, though roughly stood between us. I ignored it, observing my sister perform the ritual as her violet eyes pieced into Khal Drogo's brown orbs, keeping concentration. A Dosh Khaleen who stood in front of Daenerys started sang a prayer while everyone else chanted "Rakh! Rakh! Rakh haj!"
"She has to eat the whole heart?" Viserys asked. "I hope that wasn't my horse."
I wish, I thought.
"She's doing well," Ser Jorah said proudly. Reminding me of Ser Willem when we did something that made him proud.
"She'll never keep it down," Viserys doubted.
"Can you tell me what she's saying?" I asked Ser Jorah. Even though I was still learning the language, the tone and rhythm were hard to comprehend.
"The prince is riding. I have heard the thunder of his hooves. Swift as the wind he rides." Ser Jorah translated. "His enemies will cower before him…and their wives will weep tears of blood. She's going to have a boy."
"He won't be a real Targaryen," Viserys hesitantly said. "He won't be a true dragon."
"But he will be our nephew," I reminded.
Viserys gave me a scornful look. I shrugged it off watching the rest of the ceremony. Daenerys managed to consume the heard. Her face, hands, and neck were covered in blood. On her last bite, she struggled on chewing. Just as she was about to swallow, she gagged, bending over as her hand quickly cover her mouth. The temple grew silent, all eyes on her to see if she vomits or finish it. A sharp inhale through her nose, she leans up and gulped the contents down. She took a gasp of air confirmed she ate the entire heart. Khal Drogo smiled proudly at her.
"Vexh fin saja Phaesheseres!" the High Priestess praised and continued.
"The Stallion Who Mounts the World," Ser Jorah translated. "The Stallion is the Khal of Khals. He shall unite the people into a single khalasar. All the people of the world will be his herd. "
Daenerys stood up addressing the Khalasar. "A Prince rides inside me! And he shall be called Rhaego!"
"Rhaego!" the High Priestess praised encouraging the others to join.
I smiled, seeing she named her potential son after our brother Rhaegar and her husband Drogo. The Last Dragon shall continue onward, in name than blood. Khal Drogo stood up from his seat and walked over to his Khaleesi. He wrapped his massive arms around her thighs and lifted her into the air praising her.
"They love her," Viserys noted, eyes dilated in concern.
"She'd proven herself," I reminded.
"She truly is a queen today," Ser Jorah complimented.
"Don't you mean Khaleesi," I teased.
Ser Jorah gave a chuckle then stop looking around. I did as well, realizing Viserys had disappeared. I was afraid of what he was going to do since Daenerys was getting all the attention and he was not. I was about to leave to find him, but Ser Jorah stopped me.
"I'll go, you celebrate with your sister," he advised.
I nodded watching Ser Jorah leave the temple in search for Viserys. I pray he doesn't do something irrational or impulsive.
.o0o.
The Khals Hut
Viserys had left the Stallion Heart Ceremony for his quarters where he grabbed both of his swords, his satchel filled with money, and small belongings. Knowing he doesn't have enough to start an army and believing Magister Illyrio will not support him after the union between his sister Daenerys and Khal Drogo thought of another source of income. So, he went to the Great Khal hut, sneaking in to steal the dragon eggs. He opened the ornate trunk, revealing the three petrified eggs, a black, a gold/bronze, and a green. This was the first time he got a better look at them. Seeing the gems his ancestors' worship that brought mighty beast into the world.
A part of him wished the dragons were still alive. Wanting a dragon of his own so he could burn his enemies. If the dragons were real, none of this would've happened. No one would have dare challenge House Targaryen if the dragons were still alive and grand as Balerion the Dread or Vhagar. His Great Grandfather King Aegon the Fifth tried to resurrect the dragons when a dragon egg was presented to him, believing that a dragon could an end to the Nine Penny Kings. On 259 AC, he performed the forgotten ritual which leads to the tragedy of Summerhall. A lot of people died in the flames, including King Aegon the fifth and Prince Duncan the Small, leaving his grandfather Jaehaerys the Second king and the birth of his older brother Rhaegar. Three years of a short reign when his father took the throne.
The ritual of reviving dragons died with the last dragon rider because the dragons started to become too small to ride. Grabbing the black egg, Viserys knew it would be impossible to hatch these things for they were petrified as stone. But he knows there is value in history. The value in a rare gem. A diamond in the rough. He shoved the eggs in his satchel and stood up only to hear someone enter. Instantly hand on his sword till realizing it was Ser Jorah.
"Don't let them see you carrying a sword in Vaes Dothrak," Ser Jorah warned. "You know the law."
"It's not my law," Viserys countered.
"They don't belong to you," Ser Jorah said.
"Whatever is hers is also mine," Viserys said, securing them.
"Once, perhaps," Ser Jorah said.
Viserys stopped and glare at him, "If I sell one egg, I'll have enough to buy a ship. Two eggs – a ship and an army."
"And you have all three," Ser Jorah said.
"I need a large army," Viserys snipped, walking over. "I'm the last hope of a dynasty, Mormont. The greatest dynasty this world has ever seen of my shoulders since I was five years old—and no one has ever given me what they gave her in that tent. Never. Not a piece of it. How can I carry what I need to carry without it? Hmm? Who can rule without wealth or fear or love?"
Ser Jorah did not reply.
"Oh, you stand there, all nobility and honor." Viserys mocked getting into the exile knight's face. "You don't think I see you looking at my sister-wife, hmm? Don't think I know what you want? I don't care. You can have Daenerys. She can be the queen of the savages and dine on the finest bloody horseparts, and you can dine on whichever parts of her you like. But Alysanne, she is mine. She is what keeps the dragon's blood pure. We are leaving."
Ser Jorah tried not to scowl while staring into Viserys burning eyes. Recalling all the moments of seeing Alysanne beaten and bruised. No doubt this man tormenting the princess since she reached adolescence. Over the months he won't deny he had grown a fondness for the dragoness. Although he did not pursue it since she was a married woman and the trauma she had encountered. But he will be damn if he let Viserys take Alysanne away not knowing the suffering she will experience. Let alone, Daenerys, as Khaleesi under Khal Drogo's support decree that Alysanne will not go.
Viserys walked around to leave, but Ser Jorah stopped him.
"You can go." Ser Jorah said. "You can't have the eggs."
"You swore an oath to me," Viserys reminded. "Does loyalty mean nothing to you?"
"It means everything to me." Ser Jorah answered.
"And yet here you stand." Viserys sneered.
"And yet here I stand," Ser Jorah countered, standing tall and dominate.
Viserys glared at him, realizing he will not get away with the eggs. She growled, shoving the satchel to the ground. Ser Jorah nodded, stepping aside to let the Beggar king pass. Blue and Lilac eyes never leaving each other in power, until the dragon conceded to the bear. Ser Jorah watched Viserys leave, before bending down collecting the eggs and put them in their proper place. Afterward, he went to protect the sisters. In his eyes, Alysanne and Daenerys are worthy leaders for the crown Viserys.
When Alysanne was born, there was a small coincident that the realm noticed. When the Targaryens Conquer Westeros almost three hundred years ago, it was Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys. Before Daenerys was born, King Aerys named his three living children Rhaegar, Viserys, and Alysanne. Each child has the same first letters as their ancestors or name similar to them. A bitter joke, after the rebellion that each of the Targaryen children will die. Rhaegar dying first the same as Rhaenys in war. Ser Jorah hoped it ends there, but Aegon died from a stroke at age sixty-four while Visenya died from old age. History was repeating itself, three last pure Targaryens of one male and two females the same as Aegon the Conqueror campaign. Along with King Aerys the Second abuse towards his wife, Rhaella.
The exile knight, though waiting for his pardon…knows deep down he has betrayed his friends will do what he can to keep them safe. Before he returns home. Until then, he left to watch over the Khaleesi and Dragoness.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
By evening there was a feast in celebration for the new Khalakka. A goat was being roasted on the open fire, the drums were playing, and women were dancing. It was a cheerful feast. The Khals and bloodriders chatting away drinking pepper beer. I sat next to Daenerys with her handmaidens as we talked about the upcoming of the baby. I was happy for my sister, knowing she was happy. I must confess, I was a bit jealous wanting to be with child as well. Thinking about my little one who never had a chance in the world. It would probably be for the best, with Viserys losing control again. Shaking the past, I chuckled at a small joke. Irri asked what Daenerys was like as a baby. Unable to resist, I spilled little secrets that made Daenerys blush.
Ser Jorah came over joining the conversation. He laughed when I told the time Daenerys was tangled in a tree that she couldn't get down. Literally handing upside-down from the skirt. I had to get
"Alysanne!" Viserys yelled, barging into the temple. "Daenerys!"
We looked up shock realizing he was drunk. A drunken Viserys is far worse, even when he is bitter is dangerous. He doesn't have control of himself. People get hurt in his drunken rage. I should know…since it was the cause of our unborn child's death. Fearing for Daenerys's safety, not wanting her to experience the same pain I went through I turned to Ser Jorah.
"Where's my sister!" Viserys slurred.
"Stop him," I told Ser Jorah.
"Where is she?" Viserys continued. "Where are they? I'm here for the feast. The whore's feast."
Ser Jorah got up walking over to Viserys. Cautiously putting his hand on the Dragon. "Come."
Viserys stumbled back, shoving Ser Jorah away, "Get your hands off me! No one touches the Dragon!"
"Khal rhea mhar! Me ifa!" one of the khals said causing the others to laugh.
Viserys heard them turning to face the Khals, "Khal Drogo! I'm here for the feast."
"Nevakhi vekha ha maan," Khal Drogo said, gesturing to the corner where the elders and young boys were.
"Khal Drogo says there is a place for you," Ser Jorah translated. "Back there."
Viserys shook his head, "This is no place for a king."
"You are no king," Drogo taunted in common tongue.
Viserys scowled drawing his custom sword pointing it as Ser Jorah's neck, "Keep away from me!"
The drums stopped playing, and women gasp. Viserys broke Vaes Dothrak sacred law. Drawing a blade of metal. The only sharp objects allowed in this city were ones carved out of stone. So, if Viserys dares draw blood, he would be a dead man.
"Viserys, please," Daenerys pleaded.
Viserys turned his head, "There they are."
He walked over, blade aimed at us. Out of instinct, I stood up between Daenerys and him. His sword aimed at my chest.
"Put the sword down. They'll kill us all," Ser Jorah warned.
"They can't kill us," Viserys chuckled, swooping his blade at Ser Jorah, accidentally cutting my vest. "They can't shed blood in their sacred city.", then back to me. "But I can."
"Calm down," I warned him.
"I want what I came for," Viserys murmured. "I want the crown he promised me."
"And you will, when the time comes." I reminded. "Aegon did not conquer the Seven Kingdoms in a day. He forged an alliance. Alliances build armies. Armies are what wins wars."
"Don't lecture me about how to build my armies," Viserys yelled, suddenly grabbed me by the arm forcing me away from Daenerys. Not a second later he shoved me backward that I fell into the fire pit. I gasped in shock, not comprehending what was happening. There was a cry, as Ser Jorah and a warrior rushed in pulling me out of the fire. My dress burning that they try to rip the fabric off. Everyone was shocked, except for Viserys who turned his attention to Daenerys. Meanwhile, Irri went to Khal Drogo translating. Daenerys remained calmed staring at him.
"He bought you. But he never paid for you." Viserys said. "Tell him I want what was bargained for, or I'm taking you back. He can keep the baby." Then point the sword to her belly. "I'll cut it out and leave it for him."
"Anha vazhak maan rek me zala," Khal Drogo said. "Anha Vazhak maan firikhnharen hoshora ma mahrazhi aqovi affin mori atihi mae!"
Comprehending his words my eyes widen but did not say anything. Knowing this is our chance to put an end to this madness. Daenerys looked at me, silently asking me to do this. I nodded, putting an end to all this. It's time to let go of the past and the traditions. Most importantly, an end to the madness. Let it end.
"What's he saying?" Viserys asked.
"He says yes," Daenerys said. "You shall have a golden crown…that men shall tremble to behold."
This snapped Viserys out of his rage. The Dragon looked at the horse lord, and chuckle, stepping away from our sister. "That is all I wanted. What – what was promised."
Khal Drogo stood up walking over to Daenerys. His hand resting on her belly, which she placed her hand on his.
"Qora mae," Khal Drogo ordered.
Two bloodriders came over grabbed Viserys by the arms. One using an elbow to break it, causing my brother-husband to scream.
"No! You cannot touch me. I am the dragon. I am the dragon! I want my crown! Ahh!" Viserys exclaimed.
"Ammeni haz jolin!" Khal Drogo ordered, removing his golden medallion belt.
One of the wives poured out the soup from the cauldron. Khal Drogo shoved the medallion belt in. He came over to me, checking my condition. I didn't know what he was doing until he took my left hand removing the golden band that signifies my marriage to Viserys. Not objecting, Khal Drogo tossed the ring into the cauldron where it melts into the belt. Ser Jorah helped me up leading me towards Daenerys who wrapped her arms around me for support. Overwhelmed by everything, unable to feel pain only staring at Viserys who was on his knees being restrained. The Dragon begging for his life.
"Look away, girls," Ser Jorah advised.
"No," Daenerys said, voice monotone.
Viserys glanced at the cauldron hearing the sizzling of the melted gold.
"No, Dany," Viserys pleaded. "Dany, tell them. Make them! Alys, please. I am your brother-husband. I am yours, and you are mine. Sisters, please!"
Khal Drogo grabbed the handles to the cauldron and came over to Viserys. The last male Targaryen struggle to get free, but the bloodriders held him still. For once, fear was written in his face. The same fear Daenerys and I felt over the years.
"Dany, Alys, please!" Viserys begged, then gasped staring at Drogo.
"A crown for a king," Drogo said, lifting the cauldron and pouring the melted gold on Viserys head.
Like volcanic lava, the gold poured in a thick, burning liquid on Viserys. Melting his skin, vaporizing his silver hair, while casting to his form. Viserys screamed in agony, his body convulsing to the pain. Daenerys and I stood there, watching, willing to let one of our own die. When the last screamed fell silent into a few gagging gasps, he grew silent. Body not moving. The bloodriders let go of Viserys's arm, letting him fall as a loud clank could be heard from the golden crown.
For five years I've been his sister-wife. Five years forced into a marriage I did not want to be in. Five years in disgust, as he raped me. Forced and pressure me into sex. Five years of being abused, physically, mentally, and emotionally. All this time, I thought I will be living in hell for the rest of my days. No one will save me, and yet it took my sister and her husband to put an end to Viserys tyranny. The invisible shackles vanished and the weight in my stomach gone. Standing there, I stared at his corpse.
"Khaleesi?" Ser Jorah spoke.
"He was no dragon," Daenerys murmured. "Fire cannot kill a dragon."
Her violet eyes landed on me. More directly at my body where it was exposed to the fire. I looked down seeing the scrapes from the pit, the fabric gone, yet…my skin was not red. No burn marks were covering my body.
"Alysanne," Ser Jorah said "Let's get you to a healer. You're bleeding."
I looked down to my chest where blood was soaking the vest. Viserys drew blood with his sword. He threatened the Great Khal's Khaleesi. Breaking the sacred law resulted in death. Still, in shock, Ser Jorah picked me up and carried me to the healers. I looked over the knight's shoulder and into my sisters' eyes. It was over. We were free.
Dream scene inspired by the White Queen
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