- 298 AC, Pentos -
Today's weather was perfect - warm without being humid or dry.
It was suitable for some martial training. He skillfully dodged his brother's sword swing and countered the next attack. Both of them shared a laugh as they circled each other, moving like two snakes on the ground.
A dance of the blood.
One of the two brothers was older by a few years, tall and thin, with loose silver hair. The other brother had his hair in a bun.
The brothers shared a similar shade of purple in their eyes. However, the younger sibling was slightly broader and an inch shorter than the older one.
The oldest sported a grin and chuckled, "I think this may be a draw again, Aemond... " Aemond heard and guarded up as his brother struck swiftly, he thought the attack was like a snake striking its prey.
A grunt escaped Aemond as he found the last swing was harder than before, "You are my older brother, Viserys, it's only natural I aim to surpass you one of these days."
In reality, he was superior to Viserys, but his brother's fury would be unbearable if he were to be outdone by his younger sibling, especially in public or during private moments such as this one.
So he would settle to draw each time, better to keep Viserys believing he himself was this great warrior King.
Sheathing their swords after about a half hour, both Aemond and Viserys called it a day and went to see Illyrio, who would be returning to inform them of the state of their dealings.
Viserys believed it was time to begin their campaign to retake the Seven Kingdoms, seventeen years it had been since the Sacking of King's Landing and the deaths of their father, Aerys II Targaryen.
And Rhaenys and Aegon, their niece and nephew who were forced to stay at the Red Keep while he, his brother, and his mother were sent to Dragonstone accompanied by the Royal Fleet.
"Are you sure this is what we should be doing, Viserys?" He asked as they walked, his elder brother turned then and held a look of arrogance.
"And what would you do, Hmm?"
"The Dothraki are savages, our sister deserves better and is worth more than a savage horde who would likely kill us than take orders." His voice cut like a knife, but it was only the truth.
However, they had previously tried to request assistance from real soldiers. Some time ago, they negotiated with the Golden Company's leader, but Viserys' proposal to have them join their forces was met with ridicule.
He witnessed his brother's rage for the first time. After the meeting, he reprimanded Viserys, stating that they should not have pursued a company formerly led by Bittersteel and the Blackfyre claimants.
Viserys had smacked him with a walking stick, kicking him in the stomach more than once.
He eventually realized that it was better to flatter Viserys instead of scolding him, but this approach may no longer be effective.
As he met his brother's gaze, he reluctantly suggested, "Perhaps we ought to consider seeking allies elsewhere, such as Dorne, House Tyrell, or even hiring sellswords. Illyrio may be willing to provide us with the necessary funds."
"No." Viserys sharply said, "We follow my plans, little brother, I haven't led us astray yet." No, his brother hasn't, but that can only be given to luck, and like luck, it drys up eventually.
Magister Illyrio met them in the dining hall, the Cheese Lord was feasting on a freshly cooked chicken, cheese, and bread next to a goblet of wine.
The man has a sculpture of himself from a time when he was younger at the manse main hall, it had to have been a long time ago as the Magister was large and bloated from food consumption. He has pig's eyes and fat cheeks with a huge white belly and a pair of heavy breasts that sag like sacks of suet covered with coarse yellow hair.
"Ah, my King, my Prince, come sit with me. You want something?" He immediately gestured no to Illyrio's offer whereas Viserys partook in the full-blown feast. "Now, I do have good news from our partners in the East."
His brother beamed at the notion, "Will the Horselord accept my offer? Please, tell me now."
"It is just so, Your Grace. The Khal, a man named Drogo is riding here as we speak with forty-thousand riders in tow." The Magister informed and drank his wine, "He will first look upon the Princess and then a day will be put aside for a wedding."
Viserys turned to him, "You hear the man, Aemond? Forty thousand horses and warriors, that is twice the size the Conquerer had when he claimed the Seven Kingdoms." But no dragons this time, it was the dragons who won the Realm.
"Where will we get our ships, Magister?" He was curious how they would get these forty thousand men and horses across the Narrow Sea, "And don't Dothraki fear water?"
Viserys gave him a scathing look but he ignored it, the Magister didn't respond and nodded after a moment. "You are correct, Prince Aemond. I have already begun negotiations with the Prince of Pentos to secure the ships required, but patience is needed." His brother isn't patient, and neither is he.
Sighing in disappointment, he attempted to leave, Illyrio stopped him and gestured for a servant to come forward, "I have a gift for the Khaleesi to be, a dress to entice Khal Drogo further." It was a splendent dress but see-through.
He wanted to throw it to the ground.
Their sister is a PRINCESS! She isn't some whore to be passed around, Aemond closed his eyes to calm himself, and only then did he take it, "I shall give it to her myself."
Viserys seemed a little jealous, especially since Daenerys is getting prepared to bathe.
Aemond had just gotten to the bathing room as Daenerys was being disrobed, he gasped and hid next to the wall but his eyes caught enough to make him both uncomfortable and pleased.
His sister is but five and ten, yet she has grown a woman's body and looks quite shapely.
"... Daenerys!" He called and stomped the ground as to make it look like he was just walking in, she had thrown her robe back on and looked surprised to see him. "Sorry, sister, but I bring a gift from the Magister." He explained and approached closer.
Her fair cheeks reddened when she noticed how promiscuous the dress was, "This, I... " She found it hard to say so he did for her.
"It's beautiful and horrible, more of a nightgown than a dress." She smiled at his humorous comparison, "Is the water hot?" He asked and handed the robe to a serving woman, then put a finger in the water.
It was hot to the touch.
'Our House thrives in heat' is what Viserys said, he would believe it as what is scalding to normal people is simply the right temperature to those of Valyrian blood.
"Brother... What is happening?" He heard her ask, and he sighed again, wishing he wasn't the one to tell her.
"Viserys and Illyrio have brokered an alliance with a Dothraki Khal for horses and men, the terms are that," He paused and saw her face falter into realization, "You are to be wed to Khal Drogo for the use of his army."
"I don't want to get married." He knows that, he always knew she wouldn't like the idea.
Aemond took his sister's hands, "I wish I could stop it, you know. I wish I could make a better life for us, but Viserys is headstrong and determined to make war across the Narrow Sea."
He is a horrible brother simply because he also wishes the same, he wants to tear down the stag flags flying across the city of King's Landing and route all of the traitorous Houses for their part in the usurpation of his family.
Daenerys is a sheltered soul, often the target of their brother's wrathful tantrums when he couldn't be there to take them.
A true shame was that their elder brother was once a loving person. It was during the early years of their exile, that their brother taught them much of what they know about Westeros, their family, and their histories.
The man truly changed during the hard years, running from city to city, living on ships or abandoned homes. Viserys joy left for good after selling the last of their heirlooms, their mother's own crown for some bread and a warm bed.
Daenerys looked at him with heartbroken eyes, his body stiffened when her hand grasped his own tightly then she smiled sadly. "It's alright, brother. I am a Princess of the Blood, it's my duty."
He left her soon after, resentful of what they must do just to go home and take back what was taken from them.
A few days later the wedding celebration took place and he, his siblings, and an exiled knight by the name of Jorah Mormont rode out to where Khal Drogo had camped his horde of horses and men.
Aemond had to admit he was in awe of the Khal, he was quiet and said not a word when first laying eyes on Daenerys, he exuded the aura of a warrior who fought a hundred battles before he was an old man.
They remain a savage people, yet they may just make excellent murderers set to bloody combat against his family's enemies.
"When do we get to speak to the Khal, I want to start planning the invasion." Viserys inquired from Illyrio as dignitaries brought forth bride and groom gifts for his sister and her husband to be.
Aemond took a deep breath and averted his eyes, hearing the magister reply to his brother, "Drogo has promised you a crown and you shall have it, My King. What's another day, a month, or a year to wait?"
"The longer we wait, the less support we will have when we reach home." he chided in and took a bite of chicken, or perhaps it was pheasant.
Viserys agreed, "You say the people make toasts to my health, how long before they forget me or their yearning for their true King."
The chatter was cut short when a fight broke out between two Dothraki warriors. Aemond was entertained by the bloodshed when one of the men sliced the other's belly open with his arakh, then cut his braid and he was reminded what Viserys said about the horselords.
Upon defeat, the leading Khal would either lose his life or cut his braid, showing his people the shame of defeat.
After the fight, Illyrio leaned in with a cheerful grin. "A Dothraki wedding without a death or three is considered a dull affair." true enough for how wild Essos is, as far east as one goes it gets more bloodier.
Moments later a pair of slaves brought forth a chest and opened it to reveal three dragon eggs, turned to stone over the last two centuries. He eyed them with awe, same as Dany but he noticed the tinge of jealousy in Viserys eyes.
It wouldn't be long before the ceremony would reach its conclusion, Daenerys was lead over to a white mare by Drogo, helped on before mounting his own steed.
Viserys sauntered over and spoke to their sister and Aemond narrowed his eyes, "What did you say to her?" he asked with some concern.
"Just to make him happy, brother." both looked as the pair rode off together. "When they write the record of my reign, they will say it began on this night."