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Description
A raven landed on the shoulder of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen as she stood in the centre of the Dothraki campsite. The khalasar train had halted for the evening and were setting up camp as an exhausted raven finally caught up with them and collapsed on Dany, almost dead.
She had just disentangled the message from the bird’s leg when Jorah Mormont arrived at a sprint and snatched the letter from her hand.
“Sir Jorah?” she asked questioningly.
“Apologies, princess, I have been expecting this letter for some time,” he said quickly, unrolling the letter hastily.
Dany shrugged and turned to glance around for her brother. “Dark wings, dark words,” she muttered. “Isn’t that what they say?”
“Not so on this occasion,” he replied, “at least not for us. King Robert Baratheon is dead. His son is ruling in his place.”
“Excellent,” she said in surprise. “What did he die of?”
“Over-excessive humour.” He shrugged in reply to Dany’s confused look. “Probably a heart attack.”
“Probably,” she agreed.
He stashed the letter away hurriedly, before Dany could ask for it. She didn’t have to. She knew he wouldn’t give it over. It had been like this since the wedding: Jorah sending and receiving letters by raven, all unbeknownst to Viserys and the others – all except for Dany. She supposed he figured no one would bother remembering about it what with the wedding excitement, but Dany did. She had a broad attention span. That and not having the duties of Khaleesi made her a lot more bored than usual and she had taken to nosing through everyone’s possessions while Viserys was, well, occupied.
She looked up suddenly at a flash of silver in her peripheral vision. Viserys was approaching swiftly, wearing his usual attire and bearing a slight limp.
“Good morning, Viserys,” Dany greeted him cheerfully. “Jorah brings news from Westeros. The Usurper is dead.”
His narrow face brightened. “Excellent! Our throne awaits!” Then his face fell. “Khal Drogo will be pleased.”
Dany suppressed a snort.
He shook this off with difficulty and turned to face the horizon, his gaunt features tight. “Khal Drogo wishes for a son,” he said impassively.
Dany went red.
“I can’t do this.”
Jorah bit his lips together.
Dany cleared her throat. “Y... you want my help?”
“Sort of. But he doesn’t want to do it, he wants me to...” He shuddered. “I don’t want to have to ask you this, but...”
Dany looked at him uneasily. “He wants you and me to—”
“Oh, no, not us,” he said quickly. “No, he wants me and his... sister. To do it. He wants both our blood in it, and he thinks you’re, well... no offense.”
“None taken,” she said with feeling.
He nodded swiftly.
“So what did you want my help with?”
His eyes flitted to the left painfully.
Daenerys followed his gaze and exclaimed aloud. “Seven hells take us all!” she yelled, stumbling backwards. “She’s human?”
He nodded. “Blind me. Please.”
Dany hesitated. Then she reached into her trouser pocket. “Put this around your eyes. Not in front of the khal, of course.”
Jorah looked confused. “If you can manage the khal, surely a woman would be—”
Dany pointed at the woman in question more thoroughly.
“Oh gods, that one!? Well,” he said shakily, “perhaps the princess’s idea will suffice, khaleesi.”
Viserys grimaced at the title.
“I have a question, Viserys, while you’re here,” Dany said as Jorah wandered off to find somewhere to sit down. “Now that the usurper is dead, I think it’s time to strike King’s Landing. They have a mere child in charge, and now that you and the khal are married—”
“He isn’t convinced yet,” Viserys said apologetically. “Give me more time. He’ll come around.”
She sighed. “But I’m bored, Viserys,” she complained. “There’s nothing for me here now that the khal has declined me. Let me go on ahead with Jorah, scope the place out.”
“On your own? You’re a child,” he pointed out.
“I’m a dragon,” she pointed out in turn. “All I need is the khalasar – half of it will do. His reputation means he hardly needs them all.”
“I will speak to him, I promise. Persuade him it will be for his gain.” He placed a finger beneath Dany’s chin and lifted her face to his. “I do want this, you know,” he reminded her. “This has just changed the timing a little. We will have Westeros, sister.”
“I have an increasing feeling that if I were the one married to Khal Drogo, you would be the one rushing me.”
“Not at all, sweet sister,” he said in an injured voice.
She raised an eyebrow.
A horse halted beside them and Khal Drogo dismounted to meet them. “Khaleesi,” he greeted in a low voice. It was their only common word – besides “no”, which Viserys had been advised against using on pain of death.
Viserys gave him a nod.
“Greetings, Khal Drogo,” Dany said in fluent Dothraki. “We have news from Westeros. King Robert Baratheon is dead.”
He nodded, pleased. “When will you leave for Westeros?”
“We were hoping some of your khalasar could accompany me and Ser Jorah,” she said opportunistically. “We should grasp our country now while it’s vulnerable.”
Khal Drogo thought about this and nodded. “Yes, this is a good idea. You shall have your men. I will tell my best ten men to be ready to guard you when you need them.”
Dany grinned. “Thank you, Khal. You have been most helpful.”
“What was that about?” Viserys asked sharply as the khal left. He was never any good as translating Dothraki, apart from a few of Khal Drogo’s more frequent phrases.
She bit her lip over her smile. “Me, Jorah and ten of the khal’s best men are going to Westeros tomorrow. Do you have a plan for me?”
“Well, not as such, no.” He frowned at Dany’s expression. “What? You know this is hard for me, I can’t speak the language, the people are laughing at me and I’m not exactly equipped to be a Khaleesi—”
“You seem to be well enough equipped for Khal Drogo,” she said with a grin.
“That’s not funny, Daenerys. Do not wake the dragon.”
“The dragon was killed a week ago, Viserys, there’s no chance of it awakening now. It’s been scared out of you.”
He grabbed her shirt sharply. “I understand you’re impatient, Daenerys, but this is no way to converse with the future king of Westeros. The dragon is still very much alive, and the Baratheon brat will be the first to know... unless you want to precede him in that honour?”
She shook her head stiffly.
He thrust her backwards into a chest filled with wedding gifts, which toppled and spilled its contents into the dust. A fossilised dragon egg rolled out, unseen to all but Dany as she rose to her feet.
“I received a number of useful objects as wedding presents,” he said, turning to leave. “Use what you can, sell what you need. And pray you haven’t broken those dragon eggs, they’re worth an entire army.” He limped away, leaving her alone save for some indifferent passers-by.
Dany seethed quietly, kicking the fallen egg away and storming to her tent. She noticed Jorah’s tent was empty and, after making sure he was deeply disturbed enough by Khal Drogo’s sister not to notice, she crept inside.
To her disappointment, all the previous letters had been burned in a small stove in the corner. She rifled through the letters’ remains until she found a scrap that had one legible line along the bottom edge.
The king is grateful for your services. Varys.
She frowned, wondering who Varys was until the sound of footsteps interrupted her. She hid beneath a pile of dirty clothes as Jorah walked in, finally able to shake off the image of the khal’s sister. He sat on his bed, his most recent letter in his hands, and read it slowly and deliberately aloud.
“K-K-Kih-King Ba-arr-ah-th-theon,” he read falteringly, “has duh-eye-ed of laa-ugg-huhter at the new-es of the Beggar Kinguh’s marry-adg-eh. I luh-ook forward to mor-eh informa, oh God, infor-mat-ee-on on Deh... whatever’s inten-tee-uns rega-er-ding Westeros. Yuh-or-es, Var, Var... whatever.”
Dany frowned, trying to decipher this. The king died of laughter and Varys looks forward to more information? She knew it.
She stayed put until Jorah had burned this letter with an air of contempt and she finally burst free from what was apparently his underwear in a previous life a moment after his departure. After reacquainting herself with fresh air, she walked out of the tent to find Viserys and stalked towards him.
“There is a traitor among us—” she began.
“Ah, Daenerys, I need a word with you about your appearance,” he interrupted promptly.
“That’s not important, I—what’s wrong with my appearance?” she demanded suddenly.
“Oh, nothing, just for the trip to Westeros,” he explained. “You’ll need to dye your hair, you can’t go around Westeros with silver hair, it will look suspicious. The old women here sometimes use this brown dye when their hair greys, a horrid mud colour but never mind, and you’ll have to just not look at anyone, because there’s not much we can do with purple eyes—”
“Fine, I’ll do all that, just listen to me,” she said impatiently, turning him to face her. “There is a spy among us. I’ve found letters, they’ve been burnt, but I can still read—”
“Might want to get a dress too,” he mused, not listening to a thing she was saying. “Dothraki attire will probably look off as well.”
“But there’s a traitor among—oh sod it,” she sighed, storming away, “you’ll just have to die, then.”
“I’ve also heard about this man in Winterfell who wants some dragon eggs for the Stark brat’s wedding to the Usurper’s kid. We can kill them and get the eggs back, so that shouldn’t be a problem...”
Dany clenched her teeth at her brother’s blathering and stormed off, her sight fixed on the horizon.
“Princess,” an alarmed voice exclaimed, “mind your step, you’re about to trip on—”
Her foot landed on the fallen dragon egg and it rolled her back and forth before delivering her face first into a small camp fire.
“Daenerys!” Viserys shouted in alarm, running to her aid. “Get your head out of the fire, Daenerys!”
Her head exploded into flames.
Viserys swore loudly. “Get her some water, quickly! NOOO, YOU IMBECILE, WATER! NOT WINE!”
The wine was dropped on Dany’s head, which made the fire bigger until someone threw a bucket of water unceremoniously onto the flames.
“Dany,” Viserys said worriedly, rolling the extinguished Daenerys onto her back. “Dany, you’ll be alright, we’ll find a healer, we...” He stared at her, wide-eyed.
Dany stared up at him, her face and hair sooty but unburnt. “I didn’t feel a thing,” she said in astonishment.

Description
A raven landed on the shoulder of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen as she stood in the centre of the Dothraki campsite. The khalasar train had halted for the evening and were setting up camp as an exhausted raven finally caught up with them and collapsed on Dany, almost dead.
She had just disentangled the message from the bird’s leg when Jorah Mormont arrived at a sprint and snatched the letter from her hand.
“Sir Jorah?” she asked questioningly.
“Apologies, princess, I have been expecting this letter for some time,” he said quickly, unrolling the letter hastily.
Dany shrugged and turned to glance around for her brother. “Dark wings, dark words,” she muttered. “Isn’t that what they say?”
“Not so on this occasion,” he replied, “at least not for us. King Robert Baratheon is dead. His son is ruling in his place.”
“Excellent,” she said in surprise. “What did he die of?”
“Over-excessive humour.” He shrugged in reply to Dany’s confused look. “Probably a heart attack.”
“Probably,” she agreed.
He stashed the letter away hurriedly, before Dany could ask for it. She didn’t have to. She knew he wouldn’t give it over. It had been like this since the wedding: Jorah sending and receiving letters by raven, all unbeknownst to Viserys and the others – all except for Dany. She supposed he figured no one would bother remembering about it what with the wedding excitement, but Dany did. She had a broad attention span. That and not having the duties of Khaleesi made her a lot more bored than usual and she had taken to nosing through everyone’s possessions while Viserys was, well, occupied.
She looked up suddenly at a flash of silver in her peripheral vision. Viserys was approaching swiftly, wearing his usual attire and bearing a slight limp.
“Good morning, Viserys,” Dany greeted him cheerfully. “Jorah brings news from Westeros. The Usurper is dead.”
His narrow face brightened. “Excellent! Our throne awaits!” Then his face fell. “Khal Drogo will be pleased.”
Dany suppressed a snort.
He shook this off with difficulty and turned to face the horizon, his gaunt features tight. “Khal Drogo wishes for a son,” he said impassively.
Dany went red.
“I can’t do this.”
Jorah bit his lips together.
Dany cleared her throat. “Y... you want my help?”
“Sort of. But he doesn’t want to do it, he wants me to...” He shuddered. “I don’t want to have to ask you this, but...”
Dany looked at him uneasily. “He wants you and me to—”
“Oh, no, not us,” he said quickly. “No, he wants me and his... sister. To do it. He wants both our blood in it, and he thinks you’re, well... no offense.”
“None taken,” she said with feeling.
He nodded swiftly.
“So what did you want my help with?”
His eyes flitted to the left painfully.
Daenerys followed his gaze and exclaimed aloud. “Seven hells take us all!” she yelled, stumbling backwards. “She’s human?”
He nodded. “Blind me. Please.”
Dany hesitated. Then she reached into her trouser pocket. “Put this around your eyes. Not in front of the khal, of course.”
Jorah looked confused. “If you can manage the khal, surely a woman would be—”
Dany pointed at the woman in question more thoroughly.
“Oh gods, that one!? Well,” he said shakily, “perhaps the princess’s idea will suffice, khaleesi.”
Viserys grimaced at the title.
“I have a question, Viserys, while you’re here,” Dany said as Jorah wandered off to find somewhere to sit down. “Now that the usurper is dead, I think it’s time to strike King’s Landing. They have a mere child in charge, and now that you and the khal are married—”
“He isn’t convinced yet,” Viserys said apologetically. “Give me more time. He’ll come around.”
She sighed. “But I’m bored, Viserys,” she complained. “There’s nothing for me here now that the khal has declined me. Let me go on ahead with Jorah, scope the place out.”
“On your own? You’re a child,” he pointed out.
“I’m a dragon,” she pointed out in turn. “All I need is the khalasar – half of it will do. His reputation means he hardly needs them all.”
“I will speak to him, I promise. Persuade him it will be for his gain.” He placed a finger beneath Dany’s chin and lifted her face to his. “I do want this, you know,” he reminded her. “This has just changed the timing a little. We will have Westeros, sister.”
“I have an increasing feeling that if I were the one married to Khal Drogo, you would be the one rushing me.”
“Not at all, sweet sister,” he said in an injured voice.
She raised an eyebrow.
A horse halted beside them and Khal Drogo dismounted to meet them. “Khaleesi,” he greeted in a low voice. It was their only common word – besides “no”, which Viserys had been advised against using on pain of death.
Viserys gave him a nod.
“Greetings, Khal Drogo,” Dany said in fluent Dothraki. “We have news from Westeros. King Robert Baratheon is dead.”
He nodded, pleased. “When will you leave for Westeros?”
“We were hoping some of your khalasar could accompany me and Ser Jorah,” she said opportunistically. “We should grasp our country now while it’s vulnerable.”
Khal Drogo thought about this and nodded. “Yes, this is a good idea. You shall have your men. I will tell my best ten men to be ready to guard you when you need them.”
Dany grinned. “Thank you, Khal. You have been most helpful.”
“What was that about?” Viserys asked sharply as the khal left. He was never any good as translating Dothraki, apart from a few of Khal Drogo’s more frequent phrases.
She bit her lip over her smile. “Me, Jorah and ten of the khal’s best men are going to Westeros tomorrow. Do you have a plan for me?”
“Well, not as such, no.” He frowned at Dany’s expression. “What? You know this is hard for me, I can’t speak the language, the people are laughing at me and I’m not exactly equipped to be a Khaleesi—”
“You seem to be well enough equipped for Khal Drogo,” she said with a grin.
“That’s not funny, Daenerys. Do not wake the dragon.”
“The dragon was killed a week ago, Viserys, there’s no chance of it awakening now. It’s been scared out of you.”
He grabbed her shirt sharply. “I understand you’re impatient, Daenerys, but this is no way to converse with the future king of Westeros. The dragon is still very much alive, and the Baratheon brat will be the first to know... unless you want to precede him in that honour?”
She shook her head stiffly.
He thrust her backwards into a chest filled with wedding gifts, which toppled and spilled its contents into the dust. A fossilised dragon egg rolled out, unseen to all but Dany as she rose to her feet.
“I received a number of useful objects as wedding presents,” he said, turning to leave. “Use what you can, sell what you need. And pray you haven’t broken those dragon eggs, they’re worth an entire army.” He limped away, leaving her alone save for some indifferent passers-by.
Dany seethed quietly, kicking the fallen egg away and storming to her tent. She noticed Jorah’s tent was empty and, after making sure he was deeply disturbed enough by Khal Drogo’s sister not to notice, she crept inside.
To her disappointment, all the previous letters had been burned in a small stove in the corner. She rifled through the letters’ remains until she found a scrap that had one legible line along the bottom edge.
The king is grateful for your services. Varys.
She frowned, wondering who Varys was until the sound of footsteps interrupted her. She hid beneath a pile of dirty clothes as Jorah walked in, finally able to shake off the image of the khal’s sister. He sat on his bed, his most recent letter in his hands, and read it slowly and deliberately aloud.
“K-K-Kih-King Ba-arr-ah-th-theon,” he read falteringly, “has duh-eye-ed of laa-ugg-huhter at the new-es of the Beggar Kinguh’s marry-adg-eh. I luh-ook forward to mor-eh informa, oh God, infor-mat-ee-on on Deh... whatever’s inten-tee-uns rega-er-ding Westeros. Yuh-or-es, Var, Var... whatever.”
Dany frowned, trying to decipher this. The king died of laughter and Varys looks forward to more information? She knew it.
She stayed put until Jorah had burned this letter with an air of contempt and she finally burst free from what was apparently his underwear in a previous life a moment after his departure. After reacquainting herself with fresh air, she walked out of the tent to find Viserys and stalked towards him.
“There is a traitor among us—” she began.
“Ah, Daenerys, I need a word with you about your appearance,” he interrupted promptly.
“That’s not important, I—what’s wrong with my appearance?” she demanded suddenly.
“Oh, nothing, just for the trip to Westeros,” he explained. “You’ll need to dye your hair, you can’t go around Westeros with silver hair, it will look suspicious. The old women here sometimes use this brown dye when their hair greys, a horrid mud colour but never mind, and you’ll have to just not look at anyone, because there’s not much we can do with purple eyes—”
“Fine, I’ll do all that, just listen to me,” she said impatiently, turning him to face her. “There is a spy among us. I’ve found letters, they’ve been burnt, but I can still read—”
“Might want to get a dress too,” he mused, not listening to a thing she was saying. “Dothraki attire will probably look off as well.”
“But there’s a traitor among—oh sod it,” she sighed, storming away, “you’ll just have to die, then.”
“I’ve also heard about this man in Winterfell who wants some dragon eggs for the Stark brat’s wedding to the Usurper’s kid. We can kill them and get the eggs back, so that shouldn’t be a problem...”
Dany clenched her teeth at her brother’s blathering and stormed off, her sight fixed on the horizon.
“Princess,” an alarmed voice exclaimed, “mind your step, you’re about to trip on—”
Her foot landed on the fallen dragon egg and it rolled her back and forth before delivering her face first into a small camp fire.
“Daenerys!” Viserys shouted in alarm, running to her aid. “Get your head out of the fire, Daenerys!”
Her head exploded into flames.
Viserys swore loudly. “Get her some water, quickly! NOOO, YOU IMBECILE, WATER! NOT WINE!”
The wine was dropped on Dany’s head, which made the fire bigger until someone threw a bucket of water unceremoniously onto the flames.
“Dany,” Viserys said worriedly, rolling the extinguished Daenerys onto her back. “Dany, you’ll be alright, we’ll find a healer, we...” He stared at her, wide-eyed.
Dany stared up at him, her face and hair sooty but unburnt. “I didn’t feel a thing,” she said in astonishment.