A/N: Prompt word: Glass.

01x05, 'The Wolf and the Lion'

Viserys may not be as foolish as he looks; he dare not test her warning. A king can't lead a glorious conquest if he has no hands.

That doesn't stop him screaming at her, his face crimson, his eyes crazed, spittle flying. She's a savage's slut, a horse's brood mare. The dragon smokes and snaps.

Today she's offended him yet again with another gift. A glass dragon, purchased from one of the merchants in Vaes Dothrak, a crude, ugly thing that she'd thought her brother would appreciate nevertheless.

She expects too much of him.

"This is nothing like a true dragon!" he screeches, stopping just short of grabbing hold of her. "Made by some barbarian who has never seen a dragon! It makes a mockery of us! Are you trying to belittle what little respect our family name has left!? You might enjoy such savagery now that you're just a horsefucker's whore, but not me! Not the blood of the dragon!"

He sweeps his hand dramatically along the surface of the trestle table, sending the little glass dragon spinning, spinning, shattering on the floor.

She remembers Ser Jorah's words: you'd be a much better queen than Viserys would king.

As if summoned by her thought, she hears his voice from the entrance, deep and commanding: "What's going on here?" Never a king, but every inch the knight.

Viserys glances between them, his lip curling in scornful disdain.

He's not stupid enough to continue in front of Ser Jorah, who makes for a formidable figure as he looms there.

"Nothing at all," Viserys says, and barges his shoulder into Ser Jorah's as he passes. The knight barely flinches.

The broken glass lays shattered on the floor and with it are the splintered remnants of the last bond between brother and sister.

She should be embarrassed that the knight witnessed such a scene, but Ser Jorah says nothing, simply moves into the tent to help her sweep the fragmented shards away.