Khal Drogo had gifted her paints. She was unsure where exactly these paints came from - and she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out, but nonetheless they eased the anxiety in the pit of her stomach for the consequences her brother had faced.
After her husband had noted the red welt across her face, he stalked across the camp and dragged Viserys out by the white curls on his head. The fear in his eyes was so satisfying she nearly smiled when he pleaded for her to call him off.
She did, though she took her time, ask her husband to let him live on the condition that any time Viserys wished to speak to her there would be another in accompaniment. This rule was followed majority of the time, and the time without accompaniment was often brief.
The yellow of the dragon egg was the hardest for Visenya to replicate, but she got close enough. The painting? Not worthy of a true artistic critic, but she loved it and what it represented. She could feel the little dragon inside of her and with each passing day her confidence grew.
In the evenings, the Khal would gently brush his calloused hands across her back, applying a pressure that alleviated the aching in the curve of her spine. He would rest kisses along her belly and bring them further and further up until he reached her lips and she would smile.
"Our son will be a king," Drogo whispered against the skin below her ear before placing a kiss.
"And what of my brother? It is his birthright after all," Visenya's tone was teasing.
"He is a worthless excuse of a man and not fit to lead. Our son will be loved and feared, he will be a king of all kings. But first, his mother will need to be queen to be king." Drogo left kisses along Visenya's jaw as he spoke. The words had shocked her.
"Do you think we could take the throne? That I can regain this birthright? Am I strong enough?"
"You are unlike any woman. I will ride into battle at your side, I will move the salted sea and the frozen hills or you." His dark eyes gazed into Visenya's violets with a look of utter endearment.
The Khalassar left early before the sun had risen to unleash the unrelenting heat. Visenya brushed her hand along her horse, trotting beside Jorah and Dany, Viserys in the back. She could feel the heat of his stare over the heat of the sun.
Visenya plotted how to tell him that her husband and herself would no longer help him pursue the Iron Throne. Certain his explosive temper would get the best of him, and worried how that would manifest for not only herself, but her sister. With the deterioration of his patience and sanity while living in the Dothraki Sea, Visenya adopted a great deal of caution in any interaction, worried he may snap in any moment and act on much worse intention than previously.
"How soon until Vaes Dothrak?" Visenya glanced to Jorah as she brushed a fly away of white hair from her face. "The heat exhausts me more."
"Perhaps it is your state. Shall we break, Khaleesi? We will reach Vaes Dothrak by nightfall." Jorah made a motion to call for Khal Drogo.
"No, if we are that close then I can endure, and so can little one." Jorah passed a jug of water that she gulped and dotted along her head.
Soon enough the Khalassar reached Vaes Dothrak and set up camp. Visenya wrapped herself in the arms of her husband from the comfort of their tent. His deep breathes calming to her, and she gazed up to his dark eyes.
"I fear we should invite my brother to dinner," she said with a small smile. "Provide him with Dothraki clothing to attempt to blend in, not that our hairs alone wouldn't drawn attention."
"If you see fit. I must take care of one thing, I will send in Mormont." The Khal brushed the hair behind her ear.
"I will be fine this time on my own. It may bode better, perhaps Jorah can be stationed outside." With a nod and departure, Visenya busied herself in folding the dothraki clothing she had prepared for her twin.
"You do not summon me," Viserys stormed in. "I thought we had discussed this dear sister."
"Leave your fire at the door," Visenya calmly replied. "I only wish to provide you a gift and dinner."
Her twin studied her with the utmost scrutiny as he took a seat across from her and a bite of bread. His face always twisted in a sneer or look of disgust.
"I had these made for you." Visenya set the garbs on the table beside her twin. He stared at them for a moment, then began to laugh.
"You do not think I would wear the rags of savages, do you?" Viserys stood while lifting a hand but Visenya simply grasped his wrist.
"Think carefully brother on what I had said the last time you had moved to strike me." The twins were locked in a battle for dominance. Eventually, Visenya released her brother's wrist and he lowered his hand.
"Very well," Viserys composed himself, but his tone was concerningly calm. "We shall see what events unfold tomorrow."
Viserys exited the tent and Visenya felt as if she could breath again. She approached her dragon eggs, and in a state of curiosity, places one on the tiny flames of the brazier. Studying it carefully, she deduced that even the lick of flames would not awaken the little souls, and lifted the egg from the fire.
Irri had come in to check on her and gasped before taking the hot egg of stone from Visenya's hands. Irri's skin burned as she placed the egg back to it's home beside it's siblings. She grabbed onto Visenya's palms and searched for any burns that may need care.
But she found none.