"We are at your eminences' service, O mighty monarchs," the fat merchant said, his brow gleaming damply with sweat as he sat opposite Dany and Viserys in the hastily erected tent halfway between Pentos and the Tagaryen camp. "We wish only to please you."

Dany and Viserys exchanged a look. The man was pathetic: a craven. "We want all the dragon eggs in your city," Viserys said suddenly. "Every one you cringing dogs possess."

The merchant nodded anxiously. "Of course, great King."

"And gold," Viserys added. "As much gold as you have."

The merchant mopped his brow, looking pale. Viserion hissed outside the tent, and the merchant nodded hastily. "Yes, yes, your grace."

"We want all your soldiers turned out of the city," Dany interjected. "Our men will enter, to search your houses and take your possessions, and not one hand will be raised against them – or Pentos will burn. No one will leave the city – or Pentos will burn. All our demands will be met, do you understand? If you want to live, that is."

"I understand!" the man babbled. "Of course, of course!"

"Ships," Viserys said. "Enough ships to take our army to Westeros."

"And Magister Illyrio," Dany added. "Give him over to us."

The man blanched. "But the magister –" he saw Viserys' expression and stopped hastily.

"I think Viserion is hungry, sister," Viserys said idly, looking at his nails. "Shall we feed him?"

"Oh, but Rhaegal and Drogon are hungry too," Dany said conversationally. "We'll have to cut him into three before they eat him."

"What a good thing he is so fat," Viserys answered. "Eating a third of him will be like eating a whole man!"

"Tender meat is Drogon's favourite," Dany remarked. "I think he is in luck today, don't you, Viserys? I'd wager that this man has never done a day's work in his life."

"Please, please!" the merchant gibbered. "Your highnesses, your graces, your eminences, your lordship, your ladyship! Pity a simple tradesman! I will see that your demands are met, every one! Only let me live to carry them back to the city! Dragon eggs, gold, ships, Illyrio, you shall have them all! Only let me live!"

Dany wrinkled her nose. "He's pissed himself."

Viserys laughed. "And shat himself too, most likely."

"Come, good friend," Dany stood, offering the merchant her arm. "You shall live. Let us take you back to your escort."

The man rose on shaking legs, babbling thanks and praises. Dany and Viserys led the stinking, quivering man back to his large escort of slaves and soldiers.

Viserys frowned. "I hadn't realised you brought so many soldiers, my friend. Why, anyone would think that you don't trust us."

"No, no, your merciful worship," the man begged. "You are trustworthy, I trust you with my life! I – the soldiers are – are but –"

"How many men does it take to deliver a message?" Dany asked, sensing where Viserys was going with this.

Viserys smiled. "One."

Dany looked up at Drogon and gestured to the soldiers. "You may eat them, my darling one."

Drogon bared his teeth and bathed the soldiers in a warm flame, not the burning inferno that he had used to kill Ser Jorah. They screamed and tried to run as they and their mounts were set alight, but Drogon kept on breathing on them until they were just black, charred lumps of flesh. He delicately bent his head and began to crunch on the corpses as the Pentoshi ambassador threw up noisily onto Viserys' shoes. Viserys snarled in anger and dealt the man a backhand blow across the face. "Dog!"

Viserion, attracted by the smell of charred flesh, reared his neck over the tent, and hissed when he saw Viserys kicking the merchant. "I should feed you to my dragon!" Viserys spat, but stopped himself and took a shaky breath. "But I am merciful. By the grace of my bountiful sister, you live, Pentoshi whore-son. Go, deliver your message and your stinking piss."

The merchant began to run, fleeing on foot as Drogon consumed his horse. Viserion sniffed interestedly at Drogon's meal, but Drogon snarled and drove him away.

Viserys put his arm around Dany's shoulders and kissed her cheek. "It begins."

Dany watched the pentoshi stumble, fall, and run again, back to the walls of Pentos. "I hope we are doing the right thing. People will starve if we take Pentos' gold."

Viserys shrugged. "We have starved, we have lived in poverty. No more. We will pay the price in the blood of strangers, sister. Our kingdom awaits us."

That night, Illyrio was marched out of the city by a group of Dany's unsullied, led by Grey Worm. The other Unsullied were busy ransacking Pentos, searching every manse for gold and eggs and treasure for the Targaryens. Dany hoped that they might find her mother's crown, somewhere.

Viserys rose from his seat against Viserion's neck when he saw Grey Worm approaching. Dany looked up from where she was rubbing oil into the soft hide of Drogon's nose.

"Viserys, my lord!" Illyrio tried to sound bright, but there was blood on his robes.

"Hello, old friend," Viserys said, stalking towards the fat man, his tone more of a growl than words.

"I always knew you would achieve your throne," Illyrio said. "I always tried to help you on your noble quest – all those years. And I gave Daenerys – your lovely sister – the eggs which I now see are…are these huge, noble beasts."

He gestured to Drogon and Viserion, who snarled at him, covering him with a blast of air that smelled like rotting flesh.

"Don't remind me of what we owe you," Viserys snapped. "It only makes me more inclined to kill you."

"I- I am your friend, Viserys, sweet prince Viserys," Illyrio said nervously. "As I have always been."

"Dog!" Viserys snarled. "Lying dog!"

Dany slid off Drogon's nose and took the arakh that Rakharo offered her. "Thank you, blood of my blood."

"And I – I arranged your marriage, sweet princess – great queen!" Illyrio turned to her. "You loved your khal, did you not?"

Viserys slapped him. "Do not speak of that!"

"I loved Drogo," Dany said, laying a hand on her brother's arm. "But that is not what you are here for. You kept Viserys from me. He would have told me he loved me, all that time ago – and you kept him from me. All those years you manipulated him, you fed his anger – you made him burn in the flames of humiliation and debt every day."

She tossed the arakh from hand to hand, knowing she was being cruel, knowing that she was going to kill this man, knowing, beyond a doubt, that she was the daughter of the Mad King.

"You deserve a far slower death than the one we will give you," Viserys said. "But Daenerys is merciful."

"No, I am not," Dany said, hating herself for a moment. "I hate Illyrio. Kill him."

Viserys turned to Illyrio. "Even Dany has lost her compassion for you, worm, son of whores and eunuchs. So, you shall die. But how, old friend? By fire?" He gestured to Viserion. "Or by the blade?" he pointed to Dany's arakh. "Or by my hands?" he closed them around Illyrio's throat and squeezed. The merchant raised his hands to Viserys' wrists and pulled at them with surprising strength, but Viserys just laughed. "I'm no longer a boy!" he said, shaking Illyrio.

Dany blinked. Viserys was right. He was a man now. Taller, broader in the shoulders, though he was still thin and gaunt. He no longer looked gangly, like a colt with hooves too large for its stick-thin legs. He was a stallion, smooth skin stretched tight over muscles.

"Here, my love," she said softly, holding the arakh out to him, handle first. He let go of Illyrio, surprised to hear the endearment on her lips.

He walked towards her, his violet eyes soft and gentle as he stretched out a hand towards her. over his shoulder, Dany met Illyrio's dark black eyes as he reached inside his robe, fast as a snake, and threw –

"No!" Dany heard herself scream, saw herself, as though from a distance, push Viserys roughly out of the way, saw his shocked face, felt the ground shake as Drogon bellowed and poured out a torrent of fire onto Illyrio, until he was gone, gone, gone. Finally, Dany looked down, numb, and saw the handle of Illyrio's knife protruding from her own breast.

"Dany, Dany, Dany!" Viserys sobbed as she fell. He caught her, his arms curling over and around her as she slowly raised her hand to the knife and touched it, disbelieving. Behind Viserys' head, the dragons were screaming and blasting flames into the air, beating the ground with their wings in a frenzy of rage and fear. Men were shouting and horses were neighing and fleeing all around them. Dany saw it all through a sort of fog. Everything seemed far away, even Drogon turning on a few Unsullied who tried to approach them, eating them whole, even Rhaegal and Viserion taking wing and flying, flaming, towards the red, flickering city in the distance. She felt Viserys' tears falling onto her face, and looked up at him. "Don't leave me," he was begging. "You swore you wouldn't. Daenerys, my sister, don't leave me."

"I wont," she tried to say, but though she moved her lips, no sound came out. Then she was falling again, faster and farther than when she had fallen from Rhaegal's back, only this time Drogon couldn't catch her….