the heir - daenerys targaryen

ii

"What is this Khal Drogo like?" Viserys inquires.

"The Dothraki may be peculiar people, but he is a simple man. He will like Daenerys." Carra seemed to get more nervous as Daenerys' betrothal to the man approached its head. He wasn't a gentleman, a fact she knew. But it wasn't her place because Daenerys would be given to him. Viserys and Carra would take his armies to King's Landing in exchange for her hand.

The two could laugh the feast before Robert Baratheon's head when this was all over. She dreamt of such a sight.

"Good."

Their wedding wasn't for several moons, and Carra had stayed for four. She and Daenerys had begun to get closer. In the mornings, the princess hoped to wake up and hear the pattering of Carra's boots as she ran around the compound several times.

The girl wouldn't admit it, but she enjoyed watching her. She sweats profusely, and her muscles glistened in the sunlight. She was freakishly tall, and her stark black hair with silver streaks became matted when she did her morning run. And when she finishes, the three of them eat breakfast, and the two women share glances and smiles.

"Carra, tell me of your escapades through Sorthoryos. The Magister said that is how you discovered Blackfyre." Carra nods. "Yes. I had an encounter with the Brindled Men. I escaped with my life, but they were fewer men and more grotesque creatures. I found the sword buried there. Why and how? I have no idea. But it was there, and it was intact. I did gain a few scars, but nothing debilitating." Now he was curious.

"Could you show me?" Carra glances at the siblings nervously before simply pulling up her shirt. Daenerys eyes widen as her eyes land on the large gash that trailed close to Carra's heart to the right of her abdomen. "Goodness."

"Yeah, it is the main reason I only wear shirts." Carra chuckles, pulling down her shirt. "There's one on my hand, but that's healed. I still can't feel this finger." She wiggles her pinky finger. "I have a few burns, don't ask how. Very nasty explanation."

"Oh, I won't, I promise." Viserys chuckles. Carra looks over at Daenerys with a smile. "How are you still alive?" The girl asks.

"Luck."

Later in the day, Viserys had gone off with the Magister, and Carra had spent her time reading Daenerys' room. She'd spent a lot of time in there recently.

"How many times have you read that since you came here?" It was one of the only possessions Carra brought along with her. "I have no idea." She mutters, pretending to read while staring at the princess from the corner of her eye. "You've never told me what it was about."

"It's a story of love. "The Face of Beauty" is not in the common tongue, though." Daenerys hums, sitting up. "Read it to me." Carra looks away and over to her.

"Is that an order?" She smirks. Daenerys immediately shakes her head, making the older woman chuckle. "I was teasing. Of course, I'll read it to you."

She turns to her favorite page.

"Borros stood at the head of the table, watching his wife. They stared at one another, and despite her scar, he still loved her. She was different now, no longer his delicate flower, but he didn't love Lyana any less. He loved her more. She was different, but she was still his." Carra continued, and Daenerys stared with her hand supporting her head.

Over and over, Carra repeated the phrase "his delicate flower," and it made the girl wonder if this book was where Carra had gotten it from.

She was so deep in her thoughts that she almost hadn't noticed when Carra closed the book. "That's all for today." She smirks, placing it beside her. "Do you want to get out? I could take you on horseback, perhaps?" The young princess had never smiled wider in her life. "Yes."