It was five or six hours later when she emerged from her bath, feeling cleaner after her day on sweaty, broiling dragonback. She was wearing fresh clothes and Jhiqui had rebraided her hair. Irri was away somewhere with Rakharo. Dany hoped they were enjoying themselves. Drogon, too, had finally left her. He had coiled himself around her tent and refused to move at first. She had gone to fetch Jhoqo and Aggo and stationed them on guard, to try and reassure him that she was safe, but it hadn't been enough. She had been forced to add Grey Worm and twelve of his Unsullied before Drogon would stand up and follow Rhaegal's calls. Viserion had still not returned when she went for her bath, but she had not worried. She was finally confident of her brother's love for her, and knew he could return. Besides, with Viserion to guard him, what could really go wrong?

She came now into the main part of her sumptuous tent, covered with furs and soft cushions, and she saw her brother's blonde head resting on a couch as he sprawled there, staring into space. Silent for a moment, she paused to contemplate him. He was dirty and travelstained after a day of flying, his pensive face thoughtful and troubled as he stared at nothing, his brow furrowed. His body was thrown carelessly onto the couch, but she guessed that he had not moved for some time. Her own face softened as she watched him. Her poor Viserys; how much he had suffered!

He noticed her then, and his face changed. It cleared, becoming calmer, happier, more open. He sat up and reached out his arms to her. "I'm sorry for this morning."

Dany went to him and curled up on his lap. This morning already felt like a lifetime ago. She felt the hard ball of tension that had been building in her stomach since he left her dissipate and she was calm as he folded her in his arms. "It's already forgiven." She didn't know how to tell him about Jorah. The knight had been valuable to their political efforts to win Westeros. He would have brought them the bear isles and the friendship of some highborn houses.

"I know about Mormont," he said, reading her mind.

"Are you angry?"

Wearily, he shook his head. "No. More glad."

"You don't look glad," Dany objected, stroking his face. "You look tired."

Viserys laughed without humour. "I am tired. Tired of this whole business. But I am glad you killed Mormont. You did, didn't you? Selmy said he didn't return."

"I killed him," Dany said candidly. "I was sick of him trying to – to take from me."

Leaning down to kiss the top of her head, Viserys smiled a cold smile. "Good. I hated the man. He presumed far too much. You're mine, Dany, mine."

Dany leant against him. "And you're mine."

"Body and soul," Viserys agreed. "The Seven can go fuck themselves, its only you I worship, sweet sister." He paused. "Selmy was a lot…politer to me just now, when I returned. You spoke with him, didn't you?"

Dany hesitated. "Yes."

"I hate it," Viserys turned his head away from her. "That's what made me angry this morning. Those dogs – they don't respect me. They only deign to tolerate me because I am your brother and Viserion's rider. If I weren't, none of them would follow me."

"I would follow you," Dany promised. "I love you, Viserys."

The earnestness of her voice forced Viserys to look at her. "I love you too. I would follow you to the ends of the earth, Dany, I swear it. When I look into your eyes – all of this doesn't seem to matter. Selmy, Mormont, the dothraki – even Westeros. It can all go hang. Perhaps – we should go away. Just you and me and the dragons. Make a new home for ourselves, far from all these power struggles and games."

"We cant," Dany said. "We're the rightful heirs. The Usurper –"

"Who gives a fuck for the usurper?" Viserys scoffed. "The bastard's dead now anyway. War is dangerous, Dany. If I were to lose you –"

He fell silent, and Dany smiled and kissed him gently. "Don't be afraid, Viserys," she smiled. "I'll protect you."

Viserys laughed, a rare moment of levity, and Dany beamed up at him, at the light in his eyes. "I'm afraid for you, dolt," he said. "This isn't a game we're playing. We'll win, or we'll die."

"So we'll win," Dany said easily. "Viserys, all this has happened for a reason. We were spared from the usurper, we ran and survived for all those years, we found the dragons, we both survived the flames. The gods have a plan, and whether we will it or no we're a part of that plan. We're being led somewhere – to Westeros, to Dragonstone, to King's Landing, to our inheritance. The people of Westeros need us. It's our duty to fight for our family's throne."

Viserys watched her, a sort of wondering disbelief on his face. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"Of course," Dany said. It seemed obvious to her. "Don't you?"

"I believe in you," Viserys said softly. "More than any god or any ideal, I believe in you, my sister. You gave me the will to survive, all those years. You gave me the strength to fight the flames. No gods, just you, you, you. You give me the willpower to conquer our kingdom. By the Father, if you want Westeros, my love, I'll give it to you on a golden platter!"

Dany kissed him, then, and he took her in his arms and helped her to forget everything bad that had ever happened to her, everything but him.