Jasmine… there was a decadence to the name. Delicate, evocative of luxurious perfumes and exotic teas. Daenerys had tasted the namesake flower in Essos during her exile when life was far from luxurious for the daughter of a king, but she remembered the sweet flower, it's petals of purest white, floating as if weightless on the fragrant brown tea. The tea had been hot, steam pouring from the cup having just been removed from the fire, but Daenerys had never burnt her tongue. Never would. Now, since her children were born, she knew why. The mother of dragons would never be bested by heat.
Dany strained to remember the floral tang on her tongue as she faced the most extravagant fountain. It towered far over her head, and to it's right, a grand cage of colorful birds, all twittering madly at the presence of her children. Intelligent birds, Dany thought, but they needn't fear. They were far too small to sate her children's hunger.
Missandei kept her eyes low, and Dany could not read her handmaiden's expression in the dim light of the palace courtyard at sunset. The Khaleesi would make her own choices as she always did, but Missandei had been among her most faithful subjects and Dany always valued what she felt. Was the proposition of Dany taking a female match objectionable to her? Certainly she would understand the nonnecessity of a cock, considering how oft she stole away with Grey Worm, the castrated Unsullied warrior.
Had Dany ever considered taking a bride? It was not a thing spoken of in Essos, and certainly not among the Dothraki, but Daenerys held a string of titles now beyond Khaleesi or Targaryen alone. And she never did forget the soft and practiced hands of Irri, the maid who tasked herself with preparing young Dany for her marriage bed.
Of course Dany had no intention of taking the girl for her wife but Dany was nothing if not fair in her conquests. If the Sultan had something to offer other than fealty, she must hear him out.
As the palace doors behind her swung open, the first thing Dany heard was a roar. Perhaps it would be menacing to a stranger, but neither the young Khaleesi nor her handmaiden flinched. It might as well have been a pure compared to Drogon.
Dany turned to face the source of the noise and was greeted by the most beautiful tiger. He passed along the garden menacingly, heavy muscled shoulders rolling, half-hunched and ready to pounce. A much more suitable meal for Daenerys' children.
There was a pregnant pause before a figure appeared in the lighted doorway behind the beast. Flanked by her father and the serpent-like advisor, out strode a maiden in elegant, vibrant blue silk. Her slender waist rendered bare, drawing Dany's eye directly down to follow the supple curve of her hips only for a moment. For as the girl approached there was no looking away from her eyes. Wide, fiery brown, and beautiful. And, Dany realized, flashing with disapproval.
The beautiful girl stalked up to Daenerys, too close for propriety. An air of fragrance waded off of her, but not of her namesake flower, of vanilla and sandalwood. The beautiful girl opened her painted lips to speak, but was cut off as the Sultan coughed.
"I present," the tiny man announced, "Princess Jasmine."
Dany stared ahead for half a moment, lost in surprise at the sheer radiance of the woman before her, but not long enough to miss a beat. Daenerys reached her hand in offering but before she could speak her own name, Jasmine's voice rang out.
"I don't know what my father told you," she half-shouted, "but I will never marry you!"