AN: I kindly thank all my reviewers for putting in the time to read my chapters and leave comments. Especially to the ones who have been faithful from the starts =). No Daenyre in this one :/ hope you enjoy.
•Daenerys' POV •
As the sun set, across the auburn sky and resigned half a world a way, it left a mauve and sapphire path in its wake. The appearance of these colours meant two things.
The colours of sorrow to remind her that two weeks came and went and no further steps were progressed in relation to her invasion of Westeros and her duty as her brother's heiress.
As she lay in her tent, her silver-gold hair a nest in her head, her tired violet eyes resembling the tired hue of the marks sleep-deprivation gave her, she closed her eyes and tried to look back.
If I look back I'm lost, I used to say but now I had been born.
Her pregnant state, bared her from Drogo's bed and though she missed their nights of love-making this was much better. She thought as she caressed her swollen womb, the stallion who mounts the world, just waiting to get out.
During her first stages of pregnancy she was eager to see more than just her sun and star's smile but she also dreamt of her brother rejoicing in his birth.
Since the feast held at Dosh Khaleen he treated Rhaego with nothing but contempt and not long after he called him a mutt and not a 'True Westerosi' and wanted him cut. Him and all the Dothraki cut from their lives. She shivered as she tried to remember, clutching onto him.
Now his father was dying and being cut from her life. By the the wretched cut on his chest, her sun and stars whom protected her from the wrath of those around her.
'I will do right by him, for he is my kin now and I love him, the way I never loved my brother. I will not let him die, I need him, Rhaego needs him.' Daenerys worriedly thought.
'Not long now and you will begin your ride' she told him 'A Targaryen behind a Dothraki army'
As for Daenyre, that one does not surrender her feelings to readily, during her stay only pleasantries and guileless smiles were plastered on her face, but she was only here to steal the hoard from her should Daenerys fail to seduce the Khal.
Upon the death of Viserys, the girl's schemes and plots proved fruitless and she ran. Ran back to her Westerosi Gold Cloaks and away from the Dothraki.
Perhaps her and Viserys weren't so different after all. Both claiming to be the sovereign the kingdoms needed yet unable to grasp that Dothraki money was different altogether from the sunset kingdoms where there were banks and wars and signed pacts. She said so herself.
But in truth, every time she caught a glimpse of Doreah's blonde hair she wished it was Daenyre come back from Westeros, renouncing her claim so she could be her Krista.
She remembered the earlier nights, just after Daenyre's tent burnt for reasons unclear and they would spend the first nights together, avoiding Viserys whom Daenyre distrusted those night grew fewer as time passed, as time went both her and Viserys became stranger and more distant to her.
Viserys, the only family she knew had left her and sold her for a Golden Crown he loved more and as soon as Daenyre came it was clear he did not ride with them for his little sister's protection but for dallying with the Blackfyre girl.
Her brother abandoned her but he kept her alive all those years. She too abandoned him, yet she was never the reason he kept being alive. And she would remind herself so time and time again regardless if she wanted to.
A Queen does not need a King, Daenyre made sure she constantly drilled that into her head. But Daenerys knew that a Khalisee needs a Khal, and as her sun and stars lay dying there was a woman that could help, an educated and gifted healer whom unlike Daenyre, knew where her loyalties lay.
'Jorah' called out Daenerys 'Bring the woman to me'
Slowly, Mirri Maz Duur entered. She seemed almost unrecognisable now, having lodged the night in Viserys and Daenyre's tent. Dany had done everything possible to make sure that she was accommodated to the best of her ability.
She looked the part too. Her black hair cascading down the small of her back in thick waves, her black eyes sparking with eagerness and her beige skirt of the softest lambskin was a perfect fit.
'Silver Lady' she rasped as she tried her best at a courtesy. 'You sent for me'
'I did indeed, tell me' Daenerys started 'my friend, is there anything else you would need'
'There is nothing that you can give me, I need life' Mirri Maz Duur proclaimed 'only death can pay for life'
'What of the potions, given to you by Daenyre-' started Daenerys
'Who would that be silver lady?' Mirri interrupted
Daenerys cleared her throat, having not spoken a word in hours: 'aena maegi'
'Morning Witch?' Laughed Jorah 'is this what the Dothraki call her?'
'Yes, and with right reason' Mirri started 'I saw her, at the break of dawn, once, the day Khal Rhaggat died.'
Daenerys didn't know where the woman was going, but she wanted to know wide eyed and warry her hand made a graceful gesture for her to continue.
'She would gather a bundles of the most dry grass, I wanted to know nothing about this.' Mirri told the two Westerosi 'but one day I followed her and I saw a bright fire of blue, reds and violets. I felt the heat from afar, too much because my skin felt burnt. As I edged closer I could hear a song, in Asshai'
'How would you know what language it was' Jorah challenged
'Why I was trained there Ser, that is where I learnt how to cure grey eye' Mirri barked back, crossing her thin arms. She was clearly tired of all this Andal skepticism. 'It was the song of the shadowbenders'
'She must have imagined that, no flame is blue and violet' Jorah said turning to his Khalisee and earnest look on his face 'I wouldn't trust the council of a woman unable to determine her dreams from reality, if you want your Khal-'
'Normal flame is not blue and violet' Mirri insisted 'I am sure of what I saw that morning, An enchantment the girl sang, a song to keep her and her beloved ones safe'
'Blue flame does not exist' Jorah pressed on
Daenerys stirred, excitement and confusion a bundle in her eyes 'unless it was dragonfire, Balerion the dread's flames were as black as soot' she recalled
'That it was' Mirri reasoned 'Aena Maegi is not known as a maegi for nothing, R'hllor Magic is strongest when mingling with flame and she knows it' Mirri replied
Pleased with the lack of Jorah's interrogations she inched closer to Dany and placed her calloused hand on her stomach 'Maegi has a dragon, and she has cursed your eggs. I would not trust her, or her potions'
Mirri pointed out handing Daenerys the blue disinfecting vial and ruby blood clotting potion to her, as if they were cursed.
Daenerys looked down, her silver-gold hair falling into her sorrowful eyes, swallowing hard at the pang of sadness in her throat.
She wanted to have the woman whipped for speaking such of Daenyre, the only woman to sit with Daenerys during her months, to stay with her through the nights with only a willingness to share as her motif. Yet a part of her reminded herself that she was a bastard, a bastard of a bastard line of the Targaryens treachery is in her blood.
'What do you want of me then' Daenerys whimpered, in a voice so teary and untried it nearly made the old bear weep. 'I will do anything, please I beg of you, I will provide you with what potions you need. What must I give for his life?'
Mirri Maz Duur looked deep into her eyes and the chipped and scarred cream coloured dragon egg behind her. A colour as bright and beautiful it put the Valyrian's silver to shame.
'Only death can pay for life' she said as tenderly as the way she stroked Daenerys' cheek 'It is known'
To her luck, the girl swallowed her fears and nodded like a lap dog to her bidding.
-
• Viserys' POV•
Over the past few nights Viserys Targaryen spent his entire energy on hating, wishing the utmost of deaths upon Khal Drogo and that Targaryen mutt his nephew. With a fury so all-consuming that it gave him strength to move.
At first it was very difficult to do so. With no water, food or hope. But that was for lesser men, the blood of the dragon needed only to use their infamous temper. And Viserys was no exception.
He walked, the heat smashing against him until it went through his threadbare clothing. He trudged on until the pain of an empty stomach became accustomed to him, and he no longer needed water. He went on until the cracked bones of his wrists became full to his senses and all he could feel was blind hatred and impatience underneath his golden helmet.
Yet his heart was not one to give out like the rest of his senses. His heart was still there beating endlessly and deterring him from being a savage like the one who killed him. A human heart dreaming of the iron throne.
Let my hatred die when I get my crown. No sooner no later.
He kept chanting in his head lifting his numb fingers up to brush the dust off his thankfully unaffected eyes, it then brushed to his nose and the bottom of his lips and chin. Thank the gods the majority of the gold when down the back of my throat
'I am still human' he thought as he eyed the snake slithering past him, I will not resort to the savage ways of the Dothraki. I will not destroy what surrounds me. I will keep waking until I find a haven. Not long now
For one of the only times in his latter life, Viserys chose to follow his heart.
And he was right, as a gleaming city came to view.
-
It was a city he had recognised. He was only ten and Daenerys five when they were kicked out of Darry's mansion - or The house with Lemon trees and red doors and Daenerys would have put it and went to Qohor.
It was strange to him that despite travelling through so many cities. It was not the scents of the Lysene perfumes, the Braavosi sealords palace nor even the mighty red temple of Lys but a tiny house and some scrawny trees that stuck with his sister the most.
Maybe she was destined to be a commoner all along after all.
As he slowly entered the great black city, he tried to be discrete, just how he had managed to be all those years fleeing from city to city. But then he remembered, that he was a man clad in Scarlett silks, an expensive sword and a crown of molten gold on his head.
As he made his was through the forest touching each tree blessing the gods for keeping the senses in him. You were right sweet sister fire cannot kill a dragon.
He started scrapping desperately at all the tree trunks to find anything that he could eat it, until he was startled by a loud shout.
'Are you out of your mind boy?' A black-bearded man screamed and grabbed his broken wrists
'Get your hands off me you savage' screamed Viserys fighting against him, as his hand reached the man's face and he was about to slap. He recoiled in fear of the anger within the stranger's cold grey eyes.
The man not knowing who that he was facing a prince cruely slapped Viserys.
'Ow!' He screamed clenched hand over the shaft of his sword 'you do not touch me you oaf'
The man was about to react when his sight glazed over to the prince's head.
'Molten gold eh?' He cruelly japes, clearly aware of Viserys' discomfort 'you some goldsmith apprentice? Some dumb cunt that could not aim for the bucket?'
Viserys' dried lips twist into a scowl as they are about to rain threats of fire and blood over him. But he stays himself.
'Aye' he replied in perfect Bastard Valyrian 'I was helping my father reforge the necklace of The Prince of Norvos' daughter' he lied
'Oh really?' The fortester questioned 'whom would that be'
'Princess Aura daughter of Prince Randell Tyrakshis' he said remembering the name of the laughing prince that once housed him and his sister and his beautiful young daughter with hair as gold as her Valyrian-for-gold name would suggest. Their stay was short-lived alas.
The forester was still not convinced.
'What would a smithy like you be doing through the woods, are you blind boy?' The man asked stroking his beard in a most curious manner. 'I don't believe you, a stupid boy like you would not be entrusted with such a job, if that were real gold you would be dead boy'
'I would have thought the same' but fire cannot kill a dragon.
'Well your no use to me yourself, but if we find a way to pry that gold off your back... Well that would be something' the man trailed on in his husky tone.
Without warning he lifted Viserys into the cart, and for one second Viserys felt like Daenerys being placed on the horse saddle by the Khal, his promises golden crown only seemed to make him feel this way.
'Where are you taking me' he asked in anguish
'To my wife, boy, a potion woman to relieve off your problem.' He declared proud to have been worthy of such a woman 'smarter than any of the women o'er here. She would help you in no time. Than you can be fixed and I can have my due'
Viserys hated the way the man talked to him, if it were not for the feelings of melancholy weighing him down as the two men wheezed through the markets on a cart. Viserys once again felt what it was like to be 'Khal Rhaggat' and to be appearing weaker and more foolish around the people he was meant to lead.
'Only this time, I was not promised anything. No Iron Throne, no army.' He calmly thought as the wind swayed past him as gentle and warm as Daenyre's kisses.
'And all the better for I have no need of empty promises any more, I had enough of these in my life.' He quietly whispered under his breath as a sturdy dark mansion came into view 'I need swords and ships and nothing more than man to hone them' he thought pragmatically.