The wedding took place of a cliffside at midday. It was then that I realized the utter and large contrast between the Dothraki and the rest of the world. Exuberant dancers moved in the center of the circle, men mounting the women in turns and making their thrusts highly conspicuous and rough.

"Seat yourself with me," stated Viserys, who had been smirking ever since we arrived. It was not the wedding that made him smile as such, but his victory expression. He had won. He sold off his sister to Khal Drogo who now sat with Daenerys in their throne-like chairs that faced that dancers.

The food was alien to me, looking as though they had roasted small dogs that had flies swarming around their fumes. The Khal seemed to be enjoying how rough the men got with the women and smiled appreciatively when two men fought to the death in front of the large crowd.

My eyes narrowed as I watched the scene. I couldn't imagine little Daenerys ever being apart of a tribe so—vulgar. The entire clan seemed polar opposite of her, opposing her demeanor and beliefs. But the thing I feared most was how Drogo would treat Dany tonight. He was bound to not be gentle, and in any case, he didn't look as though he was even capable of it.

"You never told me where you have been for five years," said Viserys, addressing the crowd both with distaste and a smug conduct. They were his now, and even if they wouldn't help take back his throne, he enjoyed the concept of power; it was a thing he had never had.

I blinked blandly in the sun's light. "No, I have not."

He turned to face me. "And?"

"I was in Winterfell when I received your raven. Before that, I was everywhere."

"How did you survive?" he inquired with an arched eyebrow. I looked at him.

"How does one man survive on his own? Off the breast of his mother? Under the arm of his father? No, there comes a time in every person's life when the only person they rely on is themself."

"A time in every man's life," corrected Viserys. "Unless you were whoring around, there is no easy way for one woman to survive on her own for so many years."

I glanced away. "You'd be surprised."

He peered over at me. "Does this have anything to do with those twin blades you have on your back?"

"Did you assume they were for decoration?"

"The men cannot stop staring at you," he said, suddenly narrowing his eyes, choosing to ignore my statement. "Their eyes should be on Dany. Why must you always reveal so much skin?"

"I wear leather trousers and shirt. Tell me how that is revealing."

"You are standing out. You cannot wear dresses like a common woman?" he gave a hollow laugh. "No, because then you would be listening to me, and you hate to do that."

"You're getting smarter."

He darted a glare at me, then leaned towards me with a dangerous look in his purpurean blazed eyes.

"I put up with your cheek so many years ago, Teisha, when you were fourteen, fourteen," he repeated. "By now I assumed you have grown out of it. You prove me wrong. You show no regard for men and nor do you know how to bow down to their authority. As you are mine—" he emphasized the word. "You should learn some respect."

I met his gaze with narrowed eyes, feeling my hands irrevocably clench slightly over the ends of the arms of my chair. It took a great deal of willpower not to draw my sword and bring it through Viserys skull, but thought Dany might be slightly upset with me.

"Yours?" I repeated scathingly. "What makes you assume that I am accepting your proposal?"

He sat back into his seat, now registering the scene placed in front of him with strong disdain, looking like a spoiled prince.

"What else are you going to do? Are you going to leave Dany alone in the world of the Dothraki? She is but a fragile flower growing amongst thorn bushes as long as she is here. I will gain my throne, and that means power. Power, wealth, respect, fear, and love. I offer you this. This and a home. You will turn all that down?"

Luckily, I was saved the chance of answering by a man walking forward up to Daenerys and Drogo with a large chest. When he opened it, I stared. Three eggs. Eggs almost larger than my head with a surface resembling rough scales, all of different colors. The edges were abrasive and held no magnificent glimmer, but yet something drew my eyes to them immediately.

"Dragon eggs," said the magister to Daenerys who seemed as entranced as I. "Age has frozen them for many centuries now, but they will always be beautiful."

Daenerys looked up into the magister's face. "Thank you."

It was amazing how grateful and earnest she could still look, even on a day such as this. This was one of the many strange reasons that I often assumed Daenerys stronger than most people; not many people can keep their chin up and keep kindness close at heart when they are in a dire situation. To me, that was real courage.

Soon a man with a man of reddish brown hair stepped forward and addressed Daenerys. His eyes held wisdom and strength, with small hint of pain that was concealed beneath the sky-blue gaze.

"Sir Jorah, Khaleesi," he said with a slight bow of respect.

"You are not from around here," noted Dany, taking in his light hair, fair skin, and blue eyes opposed to the Dothraki who were dark skinned, hair, and eyes.

"No, I come from the north. I served your father for many years."

Dany looked up into his eyes, then nodded slowly.

"And you must be Viserys, also house of Targaryen?" inquired Jorah.

"I am," said Viserys with a glance at me. Jorah looked at me.

"Forgive me, but I am not sure of who you are," he said with a small smile.

"Teisha Alavara," I said, bowing my head. "Friend of the bride." Not the groom.

"Your surname strikes familiarity with me," said Jorah slowly. "Who was your father?"

For a split second Viserys and I made eye contact, then I managed another smile to Jorah.

"Dinaric Alavara of house Stinmark, though I never met him; he died in battle before I was born."

Jorah nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. Well, it was nice to meet your acquittance."

I nodded once more and he walked off. Viserys was looking at me with a calculating gaze.

"How long are you going to be telling people that your uncle is your father?" he questioned.

"As long as it takes," I said, my eyes moving over to the now setting sun.

"People are going to find out, you know."

I looked at him. "How? How will people find out? For nineteen long years I have kept my birthright a secret and I intend to do so—"

"For the rest of your life?" finished Viserys. I bit my lower lip.

"Yes."

"That's quite a long time. Secrets get heavier throughout the years."

"When the weight become heavier, I become stronger," I stated stubbornly.

It was not long before Daenerys was led through the staring crowd by Drogo who had a gift of a startling white horse for her.

"She's beautiful," breathed Daenerys, taking the horse's muzzle in her hands and stroking it. "She is for me?"

Drogo gave a noncommittal nod, then lifted her easily up onto the horse. I tried to make eye contact with her and give her a comforting smile, but she was staring right ahead, head held high.

"Make him happy," said Viserys to Dany, smiling broadly. Dany didn't look at him.

We watched them ride out of sight, away from the beam of the sun and over the mountain. I was scared for her. I did not want her innocent eyes to scathe into darkness or ugly knowledge. Knowledge of what true men are like, possibly.

But perhaps she already knows that, I thought with a glance at Viserys. He too had watched his sister and Drogo ride out of sight. He turned to me, still with that satisfied smile.

"And then it is over," he stated.

"Is it?" I inquired as the rest of the tribe started to descend into the darkness, mounting their horses or otherwise walking and starting to head to the other side of the hill. I suddenly looked around. "Where is Auvrea?"

"Your horse?"

"Yes, my horse."

He gave me a small smile. "I didn't think you would mind. I lent her to one of the tribe members."

How like Viserys. Though I could permit no impacting glare in the nearing darkness.

"Don't fret, my dear. There is mine. Come."

He held the reins of his steed, then extended his hand for mine. I looked at him from his hand, ignored him, then mounted the horse on my own. Viserys came on after me from behind me. This was his way of saying he had dominance over me.

His forearms rested on either side of my hips as he held the reins and we took off to follow the clan. The more I resisted Viserys touch, the more he pursued. He would press his chest to my back, bury his face in my hair, or casually rest his free hand on my thigh.

By the time we returned to the camp site, darkness had fallen and I looked towards the west where I knew Dany and Drogo were spending their wedding night, only to join us in the morning. I feared for her. Not her life, of course. I knew he would not kill her. But her innocence. How would she turn out in the end after enduring what Drogo would put her through?

Fires spread through the camp and tents were set up. As a guest of the Khaleesi, I was treated with high authority from the rest of the tribe who all immediately offered me food and presents when Viserys and I arrived.

I got off the horse quicker than necessary and found Auvrea with a young man who was petting her snout fondly. He looked up as I approached.

"Young friend of new Khaleesi?" he questioned. Slightly surprised, I nodded. He was barely older than Viserys with hair in a braid that was just above his ribs. His skin was darker in color like most of the Dothraki and eyes a soft, warm brown.

"You speak English?" I asked, resting a hand on Auvrea's forehead. He nodded.

"Not many of us, though," he said. "I gained special permission to learn it from traveling scholar. This is your horse?" he added.

"She is."

"A fine one. She seems to know where I am going before I do. Very natural."

I smiled. "I am Teisha."

"Dalrak," he said, bowing his head. "Forgive me if I am bold, my lady, but why do you carry weapons?"

"Do none of the women in your tribe fight at all?"

"The women here do the needlework, food, and the cleaning," he stated. "Yet you do not seem the type. That man," he added, nodding his head towards Viserys who was watching me closely. "He enjoys that."

I was unable to suppress a large snort. "Viserys hates the fact that I do not act like other women," I said lightly.

"You may think so," said Dalrak leisurely. "But a proud man would rather conceal the things that he truly likes rather than admitting them. Do you love him?"

"No," I said, a little too quickly.

"Then that is why he wants you," he said simply. I looked at him curiously.

"How can you know this?"

"Because my eyes are open, my lady," he said with another bow. He placed Auvrea's reins in my hand. "I bid you a goodnight, Lady Teisha. Your tent is on the far side of the camp site, bed and food already made."

I watched him walk away, not moving for a few moments. Viserys approached me.

"Who was that man?"

"The one you permitted to use my horse," I said with raised brows. "I was taking her back."

"I did not like the way he looked at you," he said, staring after Dalrak, eyebrows contracting.

"Why, because he used his eyes? Think what you will, Viserys. I am tired. Take Auvrea to the stables," I added defiantly, shoving the reins in his hand. "Good night."

Then I left Viserys standing there in the dark with Auvrea, her silken dark chestnut hair gleaming in the moonlight that filled he azure night sky.

I bathed before I rested in the pile of animal furs that were propped up on a small bed. The hot water felt very nice on my skin, opening my pores and allowing it to embrace me completely. I liked the feeling of my long mane of dark hair wet and clinging to my back against the copper of the tub.

I thought to myself as I bathed, watching the dim light of the candles surrounding me flutter their sleepy orange flames.

It was odd enough realizing that I had the choice of ever becoming a queen. Viserys' queen. I was a traveler, occasional thief, and rogue. It has been so since I was a small toddler. I have always been on my own.

That is until I was eleven, coming across the two remaining Targaryens that the earth held. They were in the same boat as I. Viserys was twenty when I met him and Daenerys merely seven. Viserys had been taking care of Dany ever since birth, and the pressure of both that and being the last dragon obviously didn't suit well with him.

Viserys had two main obsessions in the time that I knew him: gaining back the Iron Throne, and myself.

What about myself that intrigued him so much I did not know. I resisted him. But the more I resisted, the more he persisted. It was like he enjoyed being hurt by me; he liked the rejection. The simple fact that I was not his and had no desire to be made him crave me more.

He was a noetic masochist who enjoyed dreaming and craving, of wanting something so badly knowing the fact that he would never have it.

It was this perhaps, that made me resist him so much.

I drifted off into deep thought, listening to the wind outside or the horses whining. I closed my eyes, feeling the steam brush against my face.

What could I gain from ever marrying Viserys Stormborn? There was everything that he had said. Wealth and—belonging. A thing of which that I never known. I would never go hungry again. I would have a home always. People would always look up to me.

But what was the thing was was very much prodding me about this? What was the other thing that I could gain?

And then a conclusion finally swept down on me. An answer to the question and my obsession that I held for so many years. And I didn't like it. I didn't like the fact that doing so would be to rely and need Viserys. I did not ever want to need him in any way.

The air was surprisingly warm when I resurfaced, wrapping myself in a towel and feeling my wet silk locks of hair cascade down my bare back. As I protruded from the bathroom, I received a nasty shock.

Viserys was waiting for me in my quarters, hand suspended in the inspection of the bed. He looked up as I entered.

"Viserys!" I ushered loudly. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here."

"But why exactly is that, my love?" he inquired, taking leisure steps toward me. "Do you want to know something about the past five years?"

"There is nothing to know," I said evasively, ducking under his arm and walking away from him, gazing at the ground and biting my lower lip. I was still aware that I was only dressed in a towel and revealing much to Viserys. Perhaps so much that his intentions had changed since he saw me/

Viserys dismissed this. "Five years my mind has tried so hard to avert from the thought I would not permit it. Five years I tried so hard not to think of—you."

I turned to meet his stare, the amethyst gaze taking me aback as always. As per usual I did not deny that they held exquisite beauty, but such beauty clouded the arrogance. Arrogance that I hated him for.

"You should go, Viserys," I said, walking past him once more. The dismissal of his profound statement seemed to anger him slightly. He grasped my wrist.

"No, dear Teisha, I should not. I have waited high and low for this moment and you will listen. You will heed to my request and show me some respect."

I looked at him under raised eyebrows.

"Let me go, and perhaps you will receive a piece."

He stared at me for a moment longer, then his grip loosened and retracted. He breathed deeply in, his silver locks slightly tousled due to the wind outside. He reached forward and brushed the side of my face gently.

"Why do you fight me, Teisha? Why do you fight the potential we have, that we hold like a newborn child within a mother's womb?"

I caught his hand in mine, frowning up at him.

"This is what you wish to discuss?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Do you deny me your attention?"

I gave no answer.

"It has been five years that I never received a hint of why you hate me so. I have done nothing but to give and to love, and yet you still reject me. I have tried for these many past years to relinquish you from my mind, yet you do not heed!"

"It is not my fault what you think about," I said edgily. "You cannot force someone to feel. A man can rape, touch, and kiss a girl all he wishes, and yet this will spring no feeling of true love."

"I will make you feel, Teisha," he said, a growl resembling that of a beast.

His lips upon mine were forceful and sinuous, tongue clashing with mine like a slithering snake attacking its prey. I tried to resist his touch, but his hand held me fiercely on my lower back, the other holding the side of my face tightly.

He retracted, grasping my chin with is fingers in a fierce manner.

"I can make you feel."

"Physically," I said, trying to rid myself of his touch. "That held no impact on my heart. You have not he power to tell me what to think and how to feel."

Something flashed within Viserys' eyes. Then, in a whirl, I was on the ground, pinned by Viserys' weight , hands spread to either side of me by his hands. My struggle was in vain for his fury gained him an adrenaline of strength.

"Why do you not accept me? Why can you not love me? I have loved you since I first saw you, Teisha. I remember: the sway of you long dark hair in the moonlight, the touch of your dark eyes that brushed my appearance, always looking at me in hate. But why?"

"Viserys—!"

"There will be a time when you will come to love me, my dear. For I will never let go. And if you so choose to never accept me, then you will live your life without meaning, for I offer you no escape."

His lips brushed mine yet again with a forceful angst. His hand felt beneath the towel and collided with the surface of my breast, kneading greedily, massaging it in a way that made me wince in pain.

For the first time in my life I felt like a young vulnerable child. Not because of physical weakness, but because this manner had scared me so much. In nineteen years I had no experience with this sort of thing. I have never 'whored' myself around like Viserys assumed I did in order to survive.

In truth my virginal seal had never been broken, and Viserys didn't know that. But the object of any sexual contact frightened me very much, especially now with Viserys' rough movements and tight holdings. Sexuality was my only weakness and made me automatically succumb to a helpless child.

"Viserys! S-stop!" I cried. But the lingering desire would not cease in his embellished gaze.

"Why cannot you understand?" he said, hand now resting on my inner thigh and creeping itself along upwards. "All I want to do is love you. I want to give you everything, and still you reject me. And yet I cannot even understand my infatuation with you. You beat me countless times and I simply lay there and take it. The more you fight, the more I want you."

His fingers moved in a contortment of controlled longing as they reached the brim of my towel that was only covering a partial amount of my body. Viserys saw me as a thing that held resentment and withdrawal from him, hence forth intriguing his desire. Not as a woman that held reasons of hatred for him. He did not consider me a person who had a mind, heart, and soul. Only body.

He pulled on the towel, leaving me there, completely exposed to Viserys' greedy stare.

"Beg to me, Teisha," he said, taking both hands on the inner side of each of my legs and applying the slightest amount of pressure so they opened a fraction.

"No!"

I wrenched myself away, picking up my towel and darting to my feet, staring down at the man before me.

"How is doing this to me proving a point?" I said harshly, my eyes wide and brows contracted. "Tell me how this is helping to gain any love from me! You tell me, Viserys! I want to see the lie escape your lips while your eyes tell me the truth!"

He stood up, eyes blazing with that dangerous fire that alit anytime his authority was questioned, or angered in any way.

"You do it again and again, Teisha. Your words tell me now when your body secretly hungers for it. Yes, even discreetly from yourself."

"I want no part in in it!"

He moved forward, placing his hand sideways on my chest and forcing me backward onto the bed where the towel slipped just off my breasts. Viserys dove, relieving himself of his own tunic as I squirmed beneath him.

The blazing fire in his eyes obscured any possible kindness or beauty. At the moment I was but a doll to him; fragile at the touch and completely vulnerable to him. He took the towel, my one and only shield to his havoc, and threw it across the room.

He propped me forcefully against the pillows so my back arched slightly. My body remained immobile as his hands explored it. My gaze merely lingered past Viserys' broad shoulders and onto the ceiling of the tent.

You ask me how I could hate you Viserys? You are giving yourself the answer right now.

"Viserys . . ." I breathed, trying to take his face in mine so he could look at me. His hands rested on each breast, taking the handful in his fingers with no hesitation. "Viserys, please . . ."

Viserys was not used to any vulnerability or pleads from me, and it was the fact perhaps that offered me mercy. He withdrew his head, his bare defined midriff pressing into mine. His eyes searched mine.

"I must make you realize that I love you, and that you can love me too."

I looked sadly up into his eyes. "The only thing that you are making me realize is that you think rape is a form of love. And it is perhaps this fact that makes me detest you."

His eyes flashed. His hand reached under my neck, clasping a handful of my hair, making my neck arch and chest elevate slightly, breasts in collision with his bare chest. He pressed his lips upon my neck, sweat coming out as an erotic fume. His breath quickened, his right hand moving from my breast down my stomach and resting it just on my most delicate part of my body.

I couldn't bring it in me to say anything; my voice was temporarily frozen within the depths of my throat. He buried his face on the side of my neck like a persistent dog with its nuzzle, his strands of hair brushing against my skin.

He withdrew his head, then the impending irrevocable flash of desire grazed through his eyes like the flame of a fire in a cold winter night. His fingers prodded the wet lips between my legs, making me cry out and sink deeper into the animal skins beneath me, but it did no justice to myself.

"Viserys!" I gasped. "No—!"

"Convince me not to!" he ushered in my ear, stroking my face with the other hand as his other continued to persist my virginal wall. "Tell me something that will make me stop. If you wish me to truly stop, say something that will convince me."

I whimpered slightly, my nails digging into his shoulder blades. I closed my eyes, knowing my only escape would to release my lips in the form of words. And it wasn't just for my escape.

"Viserys—I'll do it."

He stopped his prodding and looked down at me. "Do what?"

I opened my eyes, immediately meeting his, my chest heaving. "I accept your proposal."

He stared at me, body still due to complete surprise and even a hint of suspicion.

"On one condition," I said firmly. He hesitated. His entire demeanor had changed. He removed his fingers and was merely hovering over me, as if assuming or afraid that this moment was not real or that he was dreaming.

"What?"

I took a shaky breath, fighting the stinging in my eyes.

"I will marry you if, and only if, you gain your army and raid the kingdom of Hamalden and you will let me kill King Jeremiah, the man who killed my family."

He gazed down at me. "You wish me to raid an entire kingdom before taking my own throne?"

My breathing quickened, my insides fluttering in a very unpleasant way, my stomach churning.

"What does a man need to do to gain absolute power, to ensure that the line of Targaryen does not falter ever throughout the centuries?" I mimicked shakily. He studied me.

"An heir."

"And how does one acquire an heir?"

His eyes moved from my body to eyes.

"A queen."

"And I am finally accepting. I will give you many sons to rule after you are long gone, to guarantee that the name of Targaryen will never die. I offer you all this, and in reciprocation, I ask for revenge on my family."

He paused yet again, looking to the side of the bed. He looked back at me.

"Truly, you are accepting? You will not double back?"

I met his eyes as sincerely as I could muster, feeling the push of anxiety and fear pushing at me.

"I swear to you, Viserys Targaryen, that I will marry you, bear your children, heed to your respect and—and give up on my old life entirely. I will not fight, I will not show cheek. I shall not perform battle anymore. I will bow to your authority for as long as you shall have me."

His eyes glimmered—almost with disbelief. Question, and wonder. And yet behind the question was a fiery triumph that did not show completely on his face.

"Then, my dear, it is a sealed deal," he whispered.