Chapter 47
DAENERYS TARGARYEN
Drogo was dead. The entire khalsar was dead.
What was meant to be a celebration in the name of her child had turned into a slaughter, and in one night, the greatest khalsaar in the region was killed to the last man.
No.
Her hand travelled up to her belly, as she was reminded of the untouched babe in her womb. He was still alive. A piece of Drogo was still alive inside of her.
"Daenerys! Danny!" and she was broken out of her trance by her brother's scream, as she hurriedly looked up and found him pacing in the room.
"Yes," and he was angry; she could tell. Viserys's anger had always frightened her, but never like this.
Never.
"Were you even listening to me?" he asked sharply, and she drew in a gasp.
"Forgive me, your grace. But the Princess is feeling a bit under the weather," Ser Jorah came to her defense before her brother could start shouting at her.
"Is that so?" Viserys asked, and she nodded.
"Yes," and she did not care much.
"Well, no matter. Those magisters have finally begun realizing who I am," Viserys laughed as he spoke of the magisters and merchants of Pentosh.
"Now all of them are rushing to kiss my feet," and the slaughter of Drogo's khalsaar had changed much.
It had changed her from a married woman to a widow, but it had changed her brother more. The magisters and merchants of Pentosh had long rued paying tribute to the vile and barbaric Dothraki khals.
Still, it was easier than trying to fight hoards upon hoards of Dothraki warriors, but now her brother had done the impossible. He had destroyed one of the biggest khalsaars, and many within Pentosh felt it easier to pay tribute to a King rather than a barbarian Khal.
"If I may, your grace," Ser Jorah stepped forward, and her brother raised a brow.
"We may have been able to defeat Khal Drogo's khalsaar, but I fear that it will not be so easy to replicate this victory against the other hoards," and that was why the Pentoshi magisters and merchants were trying to curry favor with her brother, for they wished to have him fight their battles for them.
"The Prince knows that," and it was his newfound adviser who answered in her brother's stead, and as Daenerys gazed at the tall, thin man, she realized that it had all begun to change after he had arrived.
Her brother had always been full of rage, but he was not the kind to slaughter away women and children indiscriminately. Yet now, he had killed thousands, and he felt no remorse at all.
"We have no intention of fighting the magisters' battles for them," and that was some relief.
"Not until we have conquered the Seven Kingdoms that is," and the words that had once seemed like a pipe dream did not feel as such to her anymore, and though the thought of her brother sitting on the Iron Throne should have filled her with joy, in that moment Daenerys only felt fear.
She felt herself remembering her brother's laughs and his purple orbs, glistening in the fire as his men slaughtered Drogo's khalsaar around her. She remembered his words. Words that she had heard once before.
'Burn them all! Burn them all!'
"Khal Drogo may have been a barbarian, but he was rather successful as a warlord," the traitor from the Usurper's council began as he stepped forward.
"The loot we obtained from him along with the tributes offered to us by the Magisters will be enough for us to buy both ships and a few sell sword companies to have a substantial enough army to win back the Seven Kingdoms," and so it was finally happening.
Her brother's long-lost dream was going to be fulfilled.
"The Usurper and his ilk have sat upon my legacy for so long. It is time that they face the wrath of a dragon!" her brother whispered, as he turned toward her.
"We will depart in a moon, but before that, there is one thing that needs to be done," and he snapped his fingers, and a servant walked in with a tray. He walked forward and placed the tray on the table beside her chair, and Daenerys spotted a small cup with a strange liquid in it.
Viserys walked forward and knelt down on one knee. He reached for her hand as he began slowly.
"Never before have I rued a day as much as the one I married you off to that lying barbarian," he snarled, and she knew that to be a lie.
He had been happy to marry her off to Drogo, as long as it won him an army. It was not the marriage he regretted. No. It was the loss of an army.
"But he is gone now. Dead, and you need not carry his monstrosity inside you anymore," and her heart sank as he heard those words, and her breath stopped as Viserys grabbed the cup and put it in her palm.
"You are a Targaryen. A Princess. I will not have that barbarian's seed taint your womb. No. I will not have that," and he pushed the cup into her hand, and clasped her fingers around it.
"What is this?" she finally gathered the courage to ask.
"Moon tea," Lord Baelish answered, and the dread made her heart stop as she realized his intentions.
"I was able to find an exiled Maester and had him brew the Tea. Usually, it is taken to prevent conception, though it is equally effective in getting rid of an unborn babe," and Viserys wished for her to do that.
"You will drink this, and with that all traces of that barbarian's seed will be removed from you," and she wanted to shake her head. She wanted to throw away that cup, but Viserys's gaze was filled with such rage that she did not have the heart to do that.
"Please," she still tried for the babe in her womb.
"Drink!" Viserys roared, and she shrank back. She turned towards Lord Baelish, and he was smiling at her predicament. She turned towards Ser Jorah, and even he was helpless in that moment.
"Drink this," Viserys pushed the cup, and so she closed her eyes and prayed to any God who would listen to her prayers as he pushed the edge of the cup to her lip, and the liquid rushed down her throat.
It was bitter, and she wanted to scream, but Viserys drowned the entire cup into her throat before he finally pulled his hand away.
"Good," he said as he stood tall once more, and there was a confident smile on his face as he looked down at her.
"I will not have you soiled by a barbarian' blood. I shall find a far more suitable match for you," and with that he turned around and walked away while the traitorous Master of Coin followed him out of her newfound prison.
The door closed, and Daenerys was on her feet in an instant as she walked up to the window.
"What are you doing, Princess?" Ser Jorah rushed after her, but her mind was made as she pushed a finger down her throat until she felt her stomach turn.
"GUGH!" She did not stop, even as her body pushed against her hand until she finally felt liquid pushing up her throat as she emptied out her gut in the window.
"Gughhh," and what came out was the Moon tea she had just drunk, and yet she did not stop at that as she did so again.
"Please stop," Ser Jorah pleaded, but she was determined to empty her guts.
It was only after the third time that Ser Jorah came and pulled away her hand, yet she still struggled in his grasp.
"NO! Let me go!" she nearly shouted, but Ser Jorah did not let go.
"It is over, Princess. All of it is out," he assured her, and she finally stopped struggling as he led her back to her seat.
He handed her his handkerchief to clean her mouth and hands, and Daenerys could only seek forgiveness.
"Forgive me, my child," for what kind of mother could not even protect her own child?
Ser Jorah was quiet for a moment before he finally began.
"I did not know that you longed to be a mother," and Daenerys was quiet before she answered.
"All my life I have always ever been a Princess, a younger sister. But with Drogo, I was different. I was more," and though their marriage was one based on a promise, it was a marriage nonetheless.
"I was his wife. His Khaleesi," and with the child in her womb, she was going to be even more than that.
She was going to be a mother.
"You loved the Khal?" Ser Jorah asked, and she did not know him enough to love him.
"I do not know," and her eyes fell to the floor.
"But I did love what he made me," but now he was gone, and she was a prisoner once more. A prisoner being held captive by her own brother, to be fed and trained until he had found another suitable match for her.
"This child is the last remnant I possess of the bond that I shared with Drogo, and I cannot have it ripped away from me," she pleaded to him, for in this place he was the only one who could help her.
"Help me," she begged, and his face contorted.
"Your brother is no longer alone. He has many friends," Ser Jorah whispered to her.
"Even if I take you away from this place, they will find..."
"Please," she pleaded, as she brought together her hands as tears dripped down her eyes.
He wiped away the tears with his calloused fingers, and she could sense his inner turmoil.
"Let me try," and that was all she could ask of him, and so she grabbed his face. She could feel him still in his hands, as she slowly lowered her face and kissed him on his forehead.
He would have wanted more, but he did not ask, nor did she have more to give as she pulled away, as Ser Jorah gulped and stood up quickly.
"It will not be easy, Princess," and she knew that well.
"For this child," she whispered as she cradled her abdomen.
"I would bear anything," and that was the truth, and just as he was about to walk away, she called him out.
"The Mad King....," and the mention of her father stopped him, for he had been the one to tell her the truth about him.
"You once told me that they called my father, the Mad King?" Ser Jorah nodded.
"Aye, Princess," and as she remembered her brother's laughs and his eyes. She wondered about the truth of it.
"Perhaps, they were not wrong at all...."
.
.
.
Miles and miles away, in the tents of the Golden Company, a shadow rose out of the ground and walked up to a slumbering young man. His hair was a deep dark blue, and the fire in the tent flickered because of the presence of the monstrous shadow.
The young man shifted in his sleep until he finally felt the Stranger's presence and opened his eyes and found himself gazing at a mass of mangled darkness. A part of him thought it to be a dream, yet he screamed nonetheless.
"AGHHHHHHH!" But by then the mangled mess of darkness had swung his blade, and the boy's head rolled to the ground with a single thud. The scream woke others around them, and an old man rushed towards the tent, and his eyes saw the sight of the blue-haired boy, he screamed.
"NO! NOOOO!" he screamed as he fell to his knees.
"Aegon...."
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