Aemond halted his horse abruptly, the entire procession of Dothraki riders continuing to move past him like a river flowing around a rock. His eyes, filled with frustration, fixed on the horizon, as though he could will a resolution into existence. The sun hung heavily in the sky, casting long shadows and heatwaves that distorted the endless stretch of arid land before them. Time had not softened the sting of his brother's failure; the army that was promised in exchange for their sister had yet to materialize.
"Damn it, Viserys..." he muttered under his breath, his voice carrying the weight of disappointment and anger.
A clinking of metal drew Aemond's attention. He turned to see Jorah Mormont approaching on horseback, the sigil of House Mormont—a proud bear—emblazoned on his chestplate. "Are you well, My Prince?" Jorah's concern was palpable, his eyes searching Aemond's face for signs of distress. "You stopped. Are you well?" Jorah should have been inquiring about Daenerys, who was enduring far more hardship being wedded to that brutish Khal. Instead, here he was, making sure Aemond wasn't about to collapse under the weight of his own frustration.
"I am simply frustrated, Ser. We should be heading west, not further east." His complaint was a declaration, made loud and clear for all the Dothraki savages and peasants to hear. He cared little for their opinions. "Go and see to my sister, Ser Jorah. I must find my brother." With a decisive tug on the reins, Aemond turned his horse and began to ride down the column, his mind racing with thoughts of the precarious situation they found themselves in. Jorah nodded in response and urged his own horse towards where Daenerys was riding.
Viserys came into view, sitting astride a white horse that starkly contrasted his usual black steed. The elder brother looked just as uncomfortable with the journey as Aemond felt, swatting irritably at the flies and mosquitoes that buzzed around him. Aemond could see the weariness in Viserys' eyes, the strain of the long march evident in his every movement.
Aemond approached. "You should rest more when next we camp, Brother. It won't do to stress yourself out." The advice was sincere, though it was advice Aemond himself had neglected. Since watching Daenerys ride off with the Khal to consummate their marriage, he had not enjoyed a full night's sleep.
"I shall not rest until I have my crown," Viserys retorted, his eyes gleaming with a manic determination.
Aemond bit back his response. You could have had one if we went to Dorne, brother. Instead, he spoke more cautiously. "Perhaps we should have stayed in Pentos, bargained a fleet from the Magister, or sought extra allies," he suggested.
Viserys scoffed at the notion, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "If we do, we will never see profit from selling our sister. Go to Dorne if you wish, brother, just know you will be acting against your King's command." The implication of treason hung heavy in the air, but Aemond gave his brother a hard stare.
A grunt of frustration escaped Viserys as he turned his horse and continued to lead the column. Suddenly, the entire procession came to an unexpected halt. Confusion spread quickly, a murmur of voices rising in the crowd. "What in the Seven Hells is going on?" Aemond growled, casting a questioning glance at his brother before they both began riding down the column, seeking answers.
They found Rhakaro, the loyal protector of Daenerys, who informed them that it was the Khaleesi who had ordered the horde to stop. The news made Aemond's stomach churn with unease. He had never seen Viserys so enraged; his brother's face twisted in fury as he spurred his horse into a gallop, heading straight into the tall grass.
"Viserys, stop!" Aemond shouted after him, but the words fell on deaf ears. Viserys would not listen, his ambition and rage driving him beyond reason. As Aemond watched his brother disappear into the distance, a sinking feeling settled in his chest.
Daenerys had woken the dragon, again.
Viserys stormed through the tall grass, fueled by fury and resentment. When he finally caught sight of his sister, Daenerys, she was walking with a look of amazement on her face, perhaps marveling at the vast, untamed landscape around her. But Viserys felt nothing but contempt. He dismounted his horse with a swift, angry motion and strode over to her, his rage barely contained.
"How dare you give commands to me, the King!" Viserys shouted, his voice trembling with anger. Without warning, he struck her across the face, the sound of the impact echoing in the stillness. "Do you think you have power because you married a horselord savage?"
Daenerys staggered back, her hand flying to her cheek in shock. She tried to rise, to regain her composure, but Viserys was relentless. He raised his hand to strike her again, his eyes blazing with hatred. At that moment, Aemond arrived on horseback, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight before him.
"Viserys, stop!" Aemond cried out, his voice a desperate plea. But Viserys was beyond reasoning. He struck Daenerys again, and her yelp of pain was the final straw for Aemond. Rage surged through him like a wildfire, and he leaped from his horse, charging at his older brother. With a forceful shove, he sent Viserys sprawling into the dirt.
Aemond quickly turned his attention to Daenerys, gently helping her to her feet. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. But Daenerys' eyes widened in horror, not because of Aemond, but because of Viserys. Blinded by anger, Viserys had unsheathed his blade and was lunging towards them.
Aemond barely had time to react when suddenly, Rhakaro appeared. With a swift and precise movement, the loyal protector of Daenerys cracked his whip, wrapping it around Viserys' torso and yanking him to the ground. Viserys fell with a thud, his sword clattering uselessly beside him.
Breathing heavily, Aemond looked down at his brother, who lay in the dirt, bound and humiliated. The fury that had driven Viserys moments ago seemed to dissipate, leaving behind only a hollow, defeated man.
Daenerys, still shaken, clung to Aemond. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling. Aemond held her close, his heart aching with the weight of their perilous journey and the fractured family they had become.
Rhakaro stood guard, his eyes never leaving Viserys, ready to strike again if necessary. The tension hung thick in the air, as the siblings grappled with the harsh realities of their quest for power and survival.
The tension in the camp was palpable as word spread of Viserys' actions. Among the Dothraki, there was no tolerance for disrespect towards their Khaleesi, and the consequences for such a transgression were severe. Viserys, had it not been for the intervention of Aemond and Daenerys, would have faced death or the loss of a hand. They pleaded for his life, and Khal Drogo, though visibly angered, granted a pardon—but not without a cost.
Stripped of his horse, Viserys was now forced to walk among the slaves, a humiliation far worse than any physical punishment. His face, once haughty and proud, was now a mask of bitterness and resentment as he trudged along, the weight of his disgrace pressing down on him.
Aemond watched his brother, a mix of emotions churning within him. He had tried, on several occasions, to speak to Viserys, to reason with him or offer some form of comfort. Each time, he was met with scorn, and shooed away like a lowly servant. "Leave me be," Viserys would snap, refusing to acknowledge Aemond's presence.
As the day dragged on, the silence between them grew heavier. When night fell and the camp was set, Aemond found himself unable to sleep, the pain of his brother's rejection gnawing at him. He sat by the fire, the flickering flames casting shadows that danced and flickered like the ghosts of their past.
It hurt deeply to see Viserys this way, but Aemond had made a decision. He was done allowing his brother to abuse their sister, to treat her as a pawn in his twisted quest for power. He was done allowing Viserys to belittle and dismiss him.
The dragon had to stand strong. But how could it, when the elder sibling acted like a raging tyrant, flying off at any slight—real or imagined? Aemond knew he had to be the steady hand, the calm in the storm, for both his sister and himself. He had to be the dragon that their house needed, even if it meant standing against his own blood.
As he gazed into the fire, Aemond's resolve hardened. The journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he would face them head-on. No longer would he be a passive observer to his brother's madness. The time had come for him to take control, to protect his family and their future.
In the distance, he could see Daenerys, she waved for him to come and he followed her into her tent.
"I want to thank you, for today."
Aemond smiled, "There isn't a need, sister." she took his hand and he smiled, feeling her warmth.
"How mad is he?"
Aemond chuckled dryly, "Mad? I believe he disowned us, today." He sat down, pulling on his cloak, and she sat down across from him by the fire. "He didn't speak to me, once, the most was 'leave me be' and that was that."
"He scared me, I was worried for you, brother. He would have struck you down and I would rather follow than live on without you." that was kind of her to say, and he felt the same considering their shared pain, "I miss the brother he was, our Viserys, the man now is what I imagined the lies told about our father."
Yes, lies, lies by the traitors who made it possible, the hell they lived in is because of Baratheon, Lannister, Stark, Tully, and Arryn.
Both brother and sister watched the flames for a time before she rose to her feet, "I need to repay you, brother, in some small way." he meant to refuse until she brought to him one of the petrified dragon eggs gifted to her by Illyrio Mopatis on her wedding day.
"I... Thank you, sister."
The egg pale cream in color, streaked with gold. Aemond admitted that he dreamt of these since Dany got them, he fought the urge to keep it and passed it back to her, "Hold onto it for me, please, I would rather not provoke Viserys further, he was jealous enough when you received them." they both laughed at that, the truth of it.