Part Five

Dinner did not go as planned.

Visenya sat at the table facing the opening of her tent. Her twin entered the tent, red in the face.

"How dare they," he muttered. "How dare they?"

He came in with a fury, his voice rising as he spoke. Finally, his eyes rested upon hers. Visenya straightened her back under his gaze, her hand rested on top of her belly.

"Might I interest you in-"

"You little bitch. You told them to fetch me like some horse?" He hissed. Visenya, not completely caught off guard, rose to her feet and approached her brother cautiously as one would a wild animal.

"Brother I-" She couldn't get out a single phrase.

"Have you developed a complex? Do you think yourself, a woman nonetheless, to be above me? To order me around?" His chest was heaving at this point. His eyes were wild. It pained her to see him this way.

"I only wanted to spend some time with you," Visenya finally spoke.

"You wanted to spend time with me?" He raised his eyebrows as if it was ridiculous to think such a thing.

"You are my twin." Visenya justified. "I was hoping we could dine together tonight. I would like to discuss our plans moving forward."

"Our plans moving forward?" He emphasized. "Our? Since when was this ours? This is mine. The crown is mine."

"It was merely a turn of phrase." Visenya sighed. "Please sit."

To her surprise, Viserys took his seat across from her. He lounged back in his chair, his silver strands falling gracefully along his neck. In another life, they would be married. She feared he would pursue this tradition with their baby sister instead of herself now. Though she loves her now-husband dearly, she almost wonders if her baby sister would have been better suited in her position. There was no right answer and no better path.

"You do not tell me what to do," Viserys now spoke in a concerningly soft tone. His eyes fell to her stomach. "You are tainted."

"I am carrying my husband's future child," Visenya corrected. Why did she ever believe he would have a civil conversation with her? Especially after the last.

"But it is not mine and you are no longer mine. For generations, we kept our bloodline pure. At least there is Daenerys."

"Do not." Visenya found her tone more hostile than intended and feared the anger it would invoke. Her eyes darted down to the table before she swallowed her fear and met his identical eyes. "She is a child."

"You do not tell me what to do. I am your king." Viserys stood and walked around the table to her. His hand rested on her cheek. There was something in his eyes that Visenya had not noticed before and it worried her. There was nothing behind his eyes but greed.

"I do not think we should pursue the crown," Visenya said bluntly, she believed no other way to approach the topic and the display before her only reinforced her belief that he was incapable of ruling fairly. "I think we are well set here, there is no reason to put us all through the torture of war for this kingdom that we have never truly known," Visenya whispered, her eyes staring at his neck rather than his face.

With a sickening crack, his hand racked across her cheek. She felt her own rage boil as she stood and her fist connected with his cheekbone.

"The next time you touch me will be the last time you have hands, do you understand me?" Her words were laced with venom. Viserys stumbled back with his hand covering his face. His mouth was agap and his eyes were wide in shock. Without another word, he stormed from the tent. His shoulder collided with Jorah as he waited outside.

"May I enter, Khaleesi?" Jorah politely called.

"You may." Visenya exhaled deeply and began to pace.

"I couldn't help but overhear," Jorah began but paused unsure where to continue. "Did he hurt you?"

"Nothing I cannot handle myself," Visenya remarked, rubbing her hand to soothe the ache.

"You are a strong woman, Khaleesi, I have no doubt you handled well on your own. Do you wish for me to tell Khal-"

"No," Visenya replied quickly. Her eyes shot to Jorah's. "Do not tell him."

Jorah nodded but Visenya could sense his discomfort.

"He will get what he deserves in due time." Visenya began to wrap her hand with a cloth of cold water. "And it will not be a crown."

"Let me see." Jorah approached and unwrapped the cloth from her hand. "This must have been a very good connection. He may have a mark to follow."

"Let him see the consequences of his actions," Visenya mumbled. She let Jorah run his thumb over her beginning to bruise knuckles. Her whole hand appeared to be stained red from the force of contact. Jorah's hands lingered on hers as he inspected the injury, then his eyes lifted to her face.

"You will have a mark as well." He frowned. His hand reached to brush her cheek. She flinched before letting him brush his fingertips along the aching of her face. There was a comfort in him she did not find in others in the group. A friend she felt fortunate to have. "You cannot hide that from Khal Drogo, he will notice and he will ask. There is no saving your brother from his anger."

"I understand that, but perhaps we can find an alternative story," Visenya began. "Like one where I stumbled into a tree?"

"I doubt he will believe that. I think you should tell him the truth." Jorah argued.

"And what? What will that accomplish other than conflict? My brother could be executed for this."

"Perhaps he should be," Jorah said lowly. "A Queen may be a better suit than a King. I have watched you aide in leading this Khalassar. You are capable."

Visenya paused. The words repeated in her head, a queen may be a better suit than a king.

"Why do you say that? When has a woman ever been treated fairly as a ruler." Visenya wrapped the cloth around her hand again.

"Never, you could be the first. I would support you."

"Isn't that considered treason as you are in aide to my brother as rightful heir and king?" Visenya questioned.

"Only if you tell."

Visenya stared at Jorah with curiosity. Never a man had she met like him. Without another word, Jorah backed away and left the tent, leaving her to her thoughts.

Khal Drogo entered their tent not long after. His hands immediately found the curves of his wife and pulled her into a tight embrace, her back pressed against the heat of his chest. Visenya felt guilty at the thought of lying to him. She turned within his arms.

His eyes immediately went to the red stain on her cheek.

"Fin." Who. His tone was even, which concerned her more than if he were to blow up.

"Vo ato." No one. Visenya looked away. Drogo turned her face back to his.

"Fin tat jin." His tone flattened with an edge. Who did this?

"Viserys."

Khal Drogo's arms fell from her and she could only stare as he left the tent.