"You have promised yourself to my brother? But what has possessed you?"

For the first time in my life, I wanted to die. I felt like any other woman; bound to giving up and crying in a corner. I did not cry often, and it was not going to happen on this occasion. Yet it was hard. Hard to go across everything that I wanted most to do, when the thing that I wanted most to do was give up.

One part of me didn't even think that avenging my deceased family was worth marrying Viserys Targaryen. But then King Jeremiah's middle aged face flashed through my mind, of the way it hovered in my doorway, carrying the head of my little brother, stained with blood of my parents.

And then it was worth it all over again.

I met Daenerys' eyes. They studied me with their lilac glow. Something had changed about them, just as I had feared. The innocence had been tampered with and replaced with anguish and contamination. I didn't even ask what had happened the previous night.

Edgily, I shook my head.

"I have to kill Jeremiah, Daenerys. It is the only way I can finally have peace."

"Then to be sentenced to my brother for the rest of your life? You hate him, Teisha. I carry my own prejudice for him, but he is my brother. I had no choice in marrying Drogo because of him, and when you have a choice, you choose to marry. You have given him a stick to beat you with."

This was doing nothing for my morale. Morning was just obscuring dawn's grayish blue tinge in the air and Dany had only arrive two hours previously from her wedding night with Drogo.

I had not slept that night and my eyes were red and puffy, seeming to drag down my face in tiredness. I was not only going to marry a man that I did not love, but a man that I loathed.

"Does revenge mean this much to you?" she said, slightly more softly, resting a hand on my own. I rolled my eyes onto her once more like a doll. "Is the commitment worth it?"

"I have never belonged anywhere, Dany. For my entire life I have lived on the streets with no love of a mother, no consolation from a father. Every night I am haunted by nightmares that plague my sleep. Always the same thing: King Jeremiah making his visit to my home and slaughtering my family right—right in front of me."

Dany sympathized. "I understand your anger, and more so your motivation. But after you kill the king, I am hoping you know what you will face."

I swallowed. "Because I know, that should prove how much I want this king dead."

Daenerys bit her lower lip, looking down at her feet. I felt a sudden surge of guilt. I placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a smile. It was a weak, sort of lost smile.

"I am sorry, my friend. I have forgotten that I am not the only one that has problems. Forgive me for my insensitivity."

She looked up at me again, opened her mouth, closed it, then sighed.

"The life of a woman was never meant to be easy, was it?"

I studied her leisurely, dimly aware of the sun rising in the horizon.

"No, Daenerys. To begin with it was never easy, and men do not make it any simpler. They are convinced they have a strong hold over us and take advantage of the vulnerability that have built up in us."

"Have you ever met a truly kind man?" she asked quietly. It was a childish question and almost the reminiscent of a last hope.

"Not yet, Dany. And I probably never will now that—well, it looks like the tribe is heading out," I added quickly, looking around and seeing that the tents were almost completely packed and the people were mounting their horses.

We stood up, squinting in the new unwelcome rays of sunlight.

"I must go. I need to be—to be with my husband," said Daenerys, her young face shadowed in the smallest amount of fear. I could find nothing to say so she walked off, the wind brushing her mane of white hair around her slender shoulders.

My eyes searched for Auvrea as the tribe started to descend towards the east.

"My lady, is this what you are looking for?" said a voice from behind me. I turned to see Dalrak, wearing a warm smile and holding the reins of Auvrea.

"She is quite taken to you," I said, taking the reins in my hands and stroking her snout. "Rare. She usually only heeds to me."

Dalrak laughed under his breath. "Then she is smart."

"Teisha! Don't bother. Ride with me," said Viserys, coming out of the blue, riding his own brown Bay and looking down at Dalrak with disdain. I narrowed my eyes up at him.

"No," I said firmly. "If you are to ride with me at all Viserys, it is to be beside me."

Then I mounted Auvrea, nodded my thanks to Dalrak, then took off before Viserys could say a word, but knew I was leaving an indignant fume behind me. Yet, knowing Viserys, he trotted quickly behind me.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"I am riding. What does it look like to you?"

"And yet it was only the previous night that you promised me respect!"

I seized my gaze on him with a glare beneath contracted eyebrows. "I promised you respect once we are . . ." I couldn't even find it within me to say the word 'married'. He got the gist however.

"And what other conditions much I endure?"

I stared ahead, looking over the top of Auvrea's head. "I will not allow you to bed me, Viserys."

He looked like he expected me to say this, yet said nothing, or otherwise was in a fit of such silent anger that words would do no justice.

I clicked my tongue, Auvrea immediately responding by trotting forward faster in front of Viserys who this time did not follow.

We rode all day, feeling the burning sun cast its flaming beam upon our faces and necks. I had pulled a cloak and red mask over half of my face to ensure that I did not get burned.

I tried to keep an eye on Daenerys as best as I could. She was riding side by side with Drogo on her striking white horse. There was more hesitance in her movements now, of the way she would only glance sideways at her new groom with yet no feeling of love or feeling. She looked at him as she would look upon a captivator. Obey his requests and not be hurt, and perhaps the nightmare will soon be over.

Or, was this just me thinking about Viserys?

I was never afraid of Viserys entirely, yet a small part of me was always intimidated by him. Not because of any hold he had of me in the present, but of potential hold. There would be no freedom for me if—when I married him.

I would be forced to lie with him, every night if that was what he wished. Because a queen obliges to the king's wishes, and that would be my placement. I would be expected to be the damsel in distress and cower under the authority of man.

This was never my character and never will be, but I am a woman who keeps her promise, and this is how Viserys chooses to see me.

And all of this for revenge. I would be touched, scathed, manipulated, raped for revenge. All by Viserys, who could not genuinely care for a living creature if his life depended upon it. Because the heart of his blasphemy craving for me was merely because he could not have me.

But now he does have me, so why does he pursue? Perhaps because he realizes that I did not accept out of love for him, but for my own personal matters. He knows I do not register him with love.

And he wishes to force it upon me.

The day spread on uneventfully. We only stopped for brief brakes for ourselves or the horses. It wasn't until evening that we stopped and made camp. I was in the tent with Daenerys and a few other servant girls who were brushing Dany's hair or otherwise attending to her appearance.

Doreah, a girl who had been bought by Viserys, was accepting Dany's request that she would teach her how to please Drogo in bed. I was slightly surprised to hear inquiry. It seemed that instead of sitting back and taking Drogo's rape, she would try to fall for him.

An odd thing to do. But what else to do when you are forced into a marriage? You either mope and whine, making yourself miserable, or make the best of it and try to ensure yourself some happiness.

I could never do this with Viserys. For Khal Drogo, though vulgar and intimidating, at least held some honor and humanity. Viserys was spoiled and unfair in his contempt. He was the human form of a snake.

Or perhaps I was not as strong as Daenerys.

Ever since I had agreed to be his queen, Viserys held both a sort of mental and physical hold for me. To him, I was a new toy he had just bought and he did not wish to let anyone else play with me. If another man so much as looked in my general direction, Viserys looked ready to perform decapitation.

It was like this for the next couple of days. The only mercy Viserys granted me was the virtue of spending my nights alone. I would take being an individual amongst my animal fur sheets a miracle. It was not like Viserys to permit something like this, but perhaps for once he was honoring my wish.

And yet throughout the next days that passed, I had been noticing an immeasurable change of demeanor from Dany. The hard scathing in her eyes had softened slightly, but not exactly returned to the vulnerable innocence. It was like a limestone enduring fire, only to turn into an exuberant diamond after the heat.

I envied her. How should she and Khal Drogo be able to fall for one another even in the circumstances that she married him? The most unlikely place to find love.

And yet there they were, looking into each other's eyes with more than captivation. I was amazed at the softened expression Drogo held for Dany now, so much different than how he looked at the rest of us.

And now, four days after the wedding, I sit against Auvrea who lay beside me, stroking her mane and looking up at the luminescent silver glow of the partially full moon cast its beam down upon the earth. It's light was so powerful that all potential light of the stars were obscured.

Everyone had already descended into their tents with stomach's filled with freshly cooked boar that some of the men of the tribe had caught that evening.

"What am I to do, Auvrea?" I said quietly. "Even when I do marry Viserys, I am no queen; I was never raised right. What people would want their queen to be an orphaned rogue?"

Auvrea snorted. I sighed. I stood, pat Auvrea one last time on the head and walked through the camp, my breath coming out a thick mist. It wasn't until I was halfway to my own tent when I heard something.

Laughter. Two people laughing from the depths of a tent beside me. One man, one woman. The man I knew. Viserys. And the woman—familiarity.

I hesitated. So what if Viserys was fooling around with the whores of the camp? What else did I expect even when we were to be married? It did not bother myself so much as my pride. He works to hard to obtain me and then simply goes gallivanting off with others.

Yet nothing but the sheer curiosity burning inside me cause to look around the flap of the tent. Viserys and Doreah, the girl who had been teaching Dany how to please the Khal, were emitted in the depths of a steaming bath, her long brown hair cascading down her slender back and over her breasts.

It was not a scene I wished to indulge myself into and advised myself to leave as quickly as possible. But something in their conversation rooted me to the spot. My name.

"Aren't you now engaged to that knave girl? The one who is a friend of your sister?" Doreah questioned as she smoothed her hand over Viserys' bare chest.

"I am," he smirked. There was too much smugness in his smile and voice for my liking.

Doreah's tone turned impish. "Won't she be—angry, if she finds out what we're doing?"

"And what are we doing?"

Doreah smiled. "What do you want us to be doing?" Viserys smiled half-heartedly back.

"I like your way of thinking, my dear," he said, brushing aside one of her hairs. "But I can hardly imagine Teisha ever being upset with this."

"Why not?"

Viserys gave no answer and his playful demeanor seemed to be lost somewhere in the steam. His eyes moved to the ceiling of the tent.

"My grace, you are letting your troubles seep too far into your mind. Relax with me in this hot bath and let us both soothe all your problems away."

Viserys looked at her, a single brow arched and his pixilated behavior recovering.

"All of my problems?"

"You'd be surprised what one can learn after fifteen years in a pleasure house; how many tricks you have up your sleeve."

"I can't imagine you had sleeves on very often," teased Viserys. He hesitated. "How does one gain affection for a woman?"

Doreah seemed slightly taken aback. "You wish to learn how to woo women?"

"How to woo a woman."

Doreah paused, apparently not sure whether to be offended or not that Viserys was talking about wooing a woman while he sat stark naked in a bath with her. However, she seemed to slide it by.

"Is this about Teisha?"

Viserys didn't look at her. "Forget I said anything. I do not wish to speak further on the topic."

"Are you in love with her?"

"I said I do not wish to speak further of it!" Viserys said loudly, his temper rising and his eyes flashing.

I had seen enough. I backed out of the tent and back into the night, waiting for my eyes adjust to the darkness again before continuing to walk to my tent.

I have never actually sat myself down amidst my problems and moped about them. Oh, but I have cried. I have cried long in winter nights after not being able to see the scene of the king holding my brother's head any longer. I began to fear sleep and would deprive myself of it for nights on end.

I lay myself down upon my bed, tracing my fingers over the soft furs and closing my eyes. It had been a while since those nightmares visited me, but the fear of them always remained.

I felt sleep enter my system and my body soon shutting down into dream mode.

I was facing a mountain, so high that not even the clouds could reach the top of it. It was chilly, with snow falling in cold specks on the earth. I was wearing robes that resembled the kinds that the Dothraki women would wear.

These parts never saw snow often, but I have often endured it in my travels. I hugged myself to keep warm, my bare feet in the snow beneath me were pale with veins spreading like spiderwebs.

At first I assumed I was quite alone in this frozen land, but then I saw a silhouette up ahead. Not one, but two. Two of which that I knew, but was frightened by the scene.

It was Khal Drogo, kneeling over an immobile Daenerys in his arms. Her eyes were closed, snowflakes falling on her smooth eyelids and catching in her black eyelashes. Her face, already fair in color, looked even paler in the white light of the snow.

But Khal Drogo had wings. Wings of an angel one might say, but they were black in color. Like raven wings. They protruded from his back and spread a great length but were now enclosed slightly around both him and Daenerys protectively.

I saw something clenched in Dany's small hands. Eggs. Two of the dragon eggs, not all three. All but the green were clutched in her hands, only the one of molten cream and charcoal black did she hold.

I narrowed my eyes at the scene. Drogo's anguish was evident, but I was not sure of what there was to feel anguish for. Something wrong with Dany, possibly. In the dream, I could sense her life, though it was fading. A sort of sleeping death she was captivated in.

"Do you see?" said a voice from nearby. Viserys stood closely by, hands folded in front of him, silver hair almost invisible in the white light of his surroundings. He was registering the scene with contracted eyebrows. His eyes had turned silver in the snow's light with only a trace of lilac. He looked at me. "Do you see what you have done? Do you see why you must be with me—always?"

I did not reply but frowned at him. Instead I looked down and received a small shock. In my hands I was holding the third and last dragon egg, scales of flaming jade, heavy in my hands, and pulsating like a heartbeat.

As my fingers moved over the rough surface, I realized I valued the egg as I did any potential child I might hold in my arms. I wanted to protect it, hide it from any harm or danger. It was a sort of motherly instinct I had as I held the object so readily in my hands.

"Do not pretend you are the runaway princess with the tender heart," said Viserys cooly, moving forward and placing his hand over mine that held the egg. We locked our gazes together, brown into silvery purple. "In the end, your heart is as black as mine."

And then, with the feeling of being sucked back into a whirlpool, I swam through black nothingness, a soundless scream running through my throat and body piercing like a hot poker.

I sat upright in bed, breathing heavily, chest heaving and hair tousled over my slightly sweaty face. I ran my fingers through my hair and glanced around. It was still dark. Early morning by the looks of it. My throat was dry; I needed water.

After I recovered myself, I got to my feet and headed to the small table in my tent that held both a pitcher of wine and water. I poured myself a goblet of water and drank it greedily before pouring myself a glass of wine.

After a burst of wind, I glanced up in a finicky manner. The wind had made the flaps of the tent flutter open, making me half assume someone had walked in.

I couldn't take this anxiety. Was it a matter of convincing myself that marrying Viserys and killing King Jeremiah a good idea, or should I simply give up on avenging my family?

Yet something told me Viserys would not let me escape his hold now. Not after he had finally obtained me, not even if he had to cuff me to his side. I am surprised he has not performed this action already.

No, I was stuck to this, bound to my word to Viserys. I had made this decision and I will stick with it.

But how to endure? How do I deal with it?

How did Dany deal with it? Where had she summoned all of that courage? What thing had she done to ensure she had some happiness with Drogo?

By falling in love with him.