Chapter 7: More of a Brother than Most

He didn't feel satisfaction.

He didn't feel happy.

He didn't feel sad.

Daemon was numb.

He didn't feel anything watching Viserys' funeral pyre. Targaryens traditionally burn their dead and Viserys will be treated no different. They will carry his remains in a black leather trunk everywhere they go. When they retake the Seven Kingdoms his remains will join those of their ancestors in the Great Sept of Baelor.

"Who could rule without wealth or fear or love?"

He remembers what he said to Jorah vividly. He saw Jorah leave the ceremony and noticed Viserys had gone as well. He followed the Northerner and found him with Viserys who tried to steal the dragon eggs.

"The greatest dynasty this world has ever seen on my shoulders since I was 5 years old."

He never realised the weight Viserys held on himself. The weight of a 300-year-old dynasty on a 5-year-old boy. He crumbled under the weight. When he finally did it he didn't feel satisfaction like he thought he would, he only felt pity. Pity for the brother that died long ago and pity for the frightened, cruel man he just killed.

Daemon had Jorah discreetly take Viserys' body out of Vaes Dothrak. His hands couldn't stop shaking, these were the hands that killed his brother. The way Viserys begged for mercy from him, from Daenerys. He gave a merciful death to his older brother by breaking his neck. He was a killer, trained under the Faceless Men. He shouldn't be shaken by death.

"They will see the fire." Jorah spoke from behind him.

"You don't think I see the way you look at my little sister hmm? And how you glare at my baby brother? You want him dead."

Every fibre in his being wanted to kill Jorah but Daenerys would never forgive him. She found a friend in him as did Daemon.

"Let them." Daemon simply replied, "We're outside Vaes Dothrak. Any who try to put the fire out will die."

"And if they fight back?" Jorah asked.

He kept his eyes on the flames, "Then they died fighting."

"Your Grace," The title felt foreign to him, "they will see it as a slight. Only Khals can have funeral pyres. Your brother wasn't a-"

"He was a Targaryen!" Daemon yelled glaring back at Jorah, "And he will be honoured as all the Targaryens before him."

Jorah hesitated before asking, "Would you like me to get your sister?"

Daemon wanted her here but, "She is pregnant. Stressing her with this will do more harm than good." He looked back into the flames, "Did you get the trunk?"

"It wasn't easy." Jorah replied.

"I didn't ask if it was easy, I asked if you got it." Daemon said dryly.

"Yes." Jorah nodded before he walked towards his horse and unloaded the trunk.

"Leave me." Daemon ordered and Jorah mounted his stallion without hesitating.

Daemon waited until the sounds of the horse's hooves hitting the floor faded before falling to his knees. It finally dawned on him what he had done. He had killed his own brother even though he begged for mercy. He should have made him bend the knee and hand over the claim to the Iron Throne. He should have done anything besides killing him. He was no better than Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer. When word reaches Westeros they will call him Kinslayer.

When he felt a tickle trickle down his cheek. He reached up and realised he was crying. He let out a humourless laugh. It was a cruel irony really, crying over Viserys. No. He wasn't crying for Viserys the man who'd beat him, who sold him to slavery. He cries for Viserys the older brother who would tell him stories of Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys, the brother who would always tell them how their lives will be better once they take back the Iron Throne.

He stayed on his knees for as long as he could before he fell to his side. No matter how tired he got his eyes stayed on the fire. He looked into the fire until his eyes closed.

The sun beat down on him as he stood atop a cliff. The terrain he looked down at was rocky, red and dead. Not a single tree or a shred of grass stood. Death, heat and, silence ruled this desolate land. It was so still and quiet until the floor shook.

He looked to the valley below and saw a stampede of stallions. They were at least a league away but he could hear the rumble of their hooves and feel the vibrations coming from them. He watched as the stampede until he saw two shadows graze over them. Two roars caught made him look to the sky. He saw two large dragons flying over the stampede, hunting them. No not hunting them, leading them. The horses followed their shadows without hesitation. He followed their line of flight and paused.

Thirteen pillars stood high amongst a wall of bones. The pillars faded into shadow until one remained. The dragons spewed fire down at the wall of bones until they were but ash. The stallions charged through the gap in the wall and trampled the pillar. The dragons roared in the sky triumphantly before flying away.

He jolted awake at the roar. The first thing he saw was the blinding light of the sun. He stood up from the hard floor with a groan. When his vision cleared he saw the floor where the pyre once burned burnt black. He stood and walked towards the black floor. When he got close enough he saw the black bones of his brothers remains.

Without a word he picked up the bones and placed them in the black leather trunk. He hauled the trunk onto his horse and tied it down. He rode his Black back into Vaes Dothrak. The Dothraki all stared at him but he kept a stone cold demeanour. When he arrived at the wooden palace belonging to Drogo.

He dismounted his Black and called over a Kha, "Make sure my brother is put with my belongings." He ordered in Dothraki.

When he entered the palace he saw the slaves he passed gave him looks of fear, anticipation and shock. Any of them who met his eye quickly turned away. He knew that Drogo will reprimand him.

When he reached their room Daenerys stopped him, "He isn't happy."

He met her eyes, "I didn't expect him to be happy."

"Please don't-"

"Don't what?" He snapped.

"Don't make it worse than it already is." She pleaded, "I know how you go about these things. I don't want you two to fight."

"Like you didn't want me to fight Viserys?" He replied, "What was it you said after I burned the hand he held his sword after I killed him? 'Fire cannot kill a dragon.' Well, a dragon doesn't cower to a horse." He stated before walking past her.

She grabbed his arm, "Please. I don't either of you hurt."

Daemon looked back at her and only looked into her eyes. He pulled close and kissed her and she eagerly kissed back. When he pulled away he only nodded, "I won't fight but I won't let him belittle me." She was silent before only nodding.

He entered the room to find Drogo pacing. The Khal was furious, to say the least. When he turned to pace the other side of the room he saw Daemon standing there.

He marched up to face Daemon until he could feel his breath in his face, "You disrespect me."

"Honouring my brother and disrespecting you are not the same." Daemon replied calmly.

"You would honour that rat! After he tried to cut out our son?!" Drogo roared.

"Not that man. I honour the brother who died long ago." Daemon stated.

"Fire is for khals not little shits. He was no king!"

Daemon finally snapped, "He was a king! Like our father and his father before him. My blood is the blood of dragons. Dragons who ruled across the sea. From the sands of Dorne to the ice in the North, they ruled. He was a Targaryen and Targaryens burn our dead." After he yelled they glared at each other in silence before Daemon shook his head, "I don't think you would understand." He walked past him.

Drogo's gaze followed him when he reached something at the other side of the room. He watched as his husband began to shake, "What don't I understand?"

Daemon glanced back at him before looking back down "He was my brother. Before he was a vicious cunt he was a good and kind brother." He sniffled, "We would be dead without him and I showed my gratitude by killing him."

Drogo slowly approached Daemon before kneeling behind him, "Blood of my blood, want you dead. To give, Moon of my Life a warning."

Daemon hummed with a nod, "I won't die easily."

Drogo let out a deep chuckle, "I told them to fuck themselves and that you are my Black Sky." The Khal kissed the back of Daemon's neck, "You are my weakness."

Daemon felt his words hot on his skin. He turned to face his Sun and Stars to reveal his tear stained face, "As you are mine."

Drogo's hand came up to hold his head from behind, "I should have done it. I should have given him the golden crown he craved. You hurt from killing him."

The king nodded in response, "I do. But it had to be done. To end his pain and suffering."

He pressed his forehead against Drogo's, "Help me forget mine."

Drogo surged forward and captured Daemon's lips.