Author's Note
I do not own A Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire, or anything you recognise.
Daenerys folded her hands in her lap as the wedding raged around her. She wasn't even allowed to be close to her siblings; they had all been seated away from her. She clenched her fingers into her dress as a fight broke out, looking desperately to Daemon. He grimaced and turned away.
"A Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is considered a dull affair," Illyrio said.
"When do I meet with the Khal?" Viserys asked. "We need to begin planning the invasion."
"If Khal Drogo has promised you a crown, you shall have it."
"When?" asked Visenya, resting a hand on her stomach. "I want my baby born on Dragonstone."
"When their omens favour war," Illyrio replied.
Viserys scoffed. "I piss on Dothraki omens. I waited seventeen years to get my throne back."
"Then you can wait a few more months," said Daemon as a fight broke out, apparently over a woman two men both wanted. Rhaena hunched her shoulders in on herself.
"If we wait that long, it'll be too late for the babe," Visenya hissed. "We need Dragonstone. Targaryens are born on Dragonstone."
"The Dothraki won't cross–" Daemon said, before catching Vaegon's glare and quieting. Instead, he turned to watch a knight in Westerosi armour approach Daenerys.
Drogo gave him a greeting in Dothraki. He bowed and held up a small stack of books. "A small gift for the new Khaleesi. Songs and histories from the Seven Kingdoms."
Daenerys smiled. "Thank you, ser. Are you from my country?"
"Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island," he replied. Daemon frowned at the way the man looked at his sister. Mormont set the books down at Daenerys's side. "I served your father for many years. Gods be good, I hope to always serve the rightful king."
The next gift were two large chests from Illyrio. Daenerys stood to open them, and lifted out a scaled black object from within.
"Is that..?" Rhaena whispered, the first time Daemon had heard her speak in a week.
"Dragons' eggs, Daenerys," said Illyrio. "From the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. The ages have turned them to stone, but they will always be beautiful."
Daenerys set the egg back in the chest. "Thank you, Magister."
Khal Drogo stood and gestured for her to follow. She did so, her face paler than ever. Daemon trailed after her as Drogo led her to a beautiful white mare.
"She's beautiful," whispered Daenerys. "Ser Jorah, I don't know how to say 'thank you' in Dothraki."
"There is no word for 'thank you' in Dothraki," Ser Jorah replied.
Drogo took hold of Daenerys around the waist and lifted her onto the mare. Daemon bristled. He shouldn't be touching her.
The Khal mounted his own horse and took the mare's reins. Viserys smiled up at her. "Make him happy."
Daenerys shivered as Drogo began to unwrap her dress. She knew that this had to come, it was a husband's right, but she'd been trying to close it from her mind. Tears warmed her face. He touched them with his thumb. "No."
"Do you know the Common Tongue?" she asked.
"No," he replied.
"Is 'no' the only word that you know?"
"No," he said again, bending her over like an animal for all to see.