Crowns and Cruel Intentions || Game of Thrones

3| 𝔰𝔞𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔞

pentos, essos

— "DAENERYS!" The unwelcome voice of Viserys Targaryen echoed through the corridors of Illyrio's Palace, shaking three girls from their moment of peace. "Daenerys!" The eldest turned to face the doorway as her brother sauntered through, a frighteningly bright grin on his face. The younger two were identical, clearly twins, but where one seemed to shrink into herself at his approach, becoming smaller and more tense as she crept silently back in from the balcony, the other stood tall, a silent fire in her eyes as she seemed to shield her sister with her body. "There's our bride-to-be. Look." He held a lightweight dress of lovely mist-coloured fabric in his hands. "A gift from Illyrio. Touch it. Go on." Slowly, Daenerys obliged, her face remaining calm and impassive as she did. The Targaryen sisters had learned some time ago that Viserys was more than willing to use their emotions, their reactions against them. "Feel the fabric." he urged quietly. "Isn't he a gracious host?"

She finally withdrew, looking up at him. When she spoke, her voice was soft and unprovocative. "We've been his guests for over a year and he's never asked us for anything."

"Well, Illyrio is no fool." Viserys replied as though the question was very stupid. "He knows I won't forget my friends when I come into my throne." He looked her up and down, then sighed, passing the dress off to a servant girl. "You still slouch." The girl who remained in the corner cast her eyes downward as Viserys tugged free the strings upholding Daenerys' dress, letting it fall to the ground at her feet. "Let them see... you have a woman's body now." Daenerys remained perfectly still as his hand brushed down her chest before his eyes went back to hers. "I need you to be perfect today. Can you do that for me?" for a moment, her fear collected in her throat, and she was silent. His eyes hardened. "You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?"

"No." She whispered.

He nodded, and a second later, his eyes locked on the younger girls. He brushed right past the bolder one to the girl who was silent not only vocally but through her posture. She didn't move a muscle as he approached until his hand took hold of her face to raise her gaze up to meet his. "And you, sweet Saerya, you will be good, won't you? Hm? Make sure your wicked sister behaves?" It was true that Saeyra's twin, Saelyra, had a temper. She'd found herself on the end of Viserys' backhand more than once before.

"Yes, my love." She spoke quietly, both her eyes and voice devoid of any emotion. Apparently satisfied, he gave her a single nod before turning on his heel and marching towards the door. He turned back only once.

"When they write the history of my reign, sweet sisters, they will say it began today." It was when he was finally gone that Saerya let out a long breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

Daenerys turned and stepped into the large tub carved into the ground, ignoring the protests of the handmaidens insisting it was still too hot. After a moment, they gave up and simply left. Daenerys looked over at her little sisters. "Come join me." she offered gently. After a second, they shed their simple dresses and submerged in the steaming water. Daenerys would never complain about the way Viserys treated her, and really, nor would Saelyra. No matter how they hated it, they knew Saerya had it much worse as his betrothed. In the hopes of distracting her, Daenerys kicked the water lightly, splashing water all over her little sister, who squealed quietly in surprise before returning the favour. The three of them laughed and splashed, keeping reasonably quiet as they did, neither of them wanting to bring Viserys storming back in. "Come on." Daenerys huffed with a little smile after a bit. "We should get ready."

°

Under the hot sun of the coast of Pentos, four Targaryens stood waiting on the palace steps, accompanied by their host, Grand Magister Illyrio. A foolish man, Saerya often thought, but she never spoke any of her thoughts aloud. She didn't dare. Silence, no matter how maddening, was safer. She stood to Viserys' right, Daenerys to his left and Illyrio on the far left.

"Where is he?" Viserys demanded.

"The Dothraki are not known for their punctuality." Illyrio offered. They were awaiting the leader of a strong Dothraki Khalasar, a man named Khal Drogo. The man who – if all went well today – Daenerys would marry.

They did not have to wait long before the pounding of hooves could be heard approaching. And Khal Drogo, along with three other riders, came to a stop at the end of the path before them. Illyrio called out in a language none of the silver-haired siblings could understand before switching to the common tongue. "May I present my honoured guests? Viserys of House Targaryen, third of his name, the rightful king of the Andals and the First Men, his future queen Saerya of House Targaryen, and the lovely princesses, Saelyra and Daenerys of House Targaryen."

As Daenerys moved to step forward, Viserys clutched her wrist harshly, out of sight from all but Saerya directly at his side, whose expression did not betray the pang of sympathy she felt. Though he'd yet to drag her into his bed, her body was often littered with small bruises left by her brother's uncaring hands. "Do you see how long his hair is?" He said quietly. "When Dothraki are defeated in combat, they cut off their braids so the whole world can see their shame. Khal Drogo has never been defeated. He's a savage, of course, but one of the finest killers alive. And you will be his queen."

Illyrio turned back to face them. "Come forward, my dear." Daenerys' arm was released, and slowly, her body knotted with tension every step of the way, she moved forwards to face the terrifying Khal. He looked her up and down for a moment, then, without a single word, veered his horse around and galloped out, followed by his other riders.

"Where is he going?!" Viserys demanded, rushing forwards.

"The ceremony is over." Illyrio replied.

"But he didn't say anything! Did he like her??" Quiet as a mouse, the twins slipped forward to take Daenerys' hands, who returned the grip gratefully.

"Trust me, Your Grace. If he didn't like her, we'd know."