Crowns and Cruel Intentions || Game of Thrones

13| 𝔰𝔞𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔞

vaes dothrak, essos

— THE CITY OF VAES DOTHRAK. The home of the Dothraki, and more importantly, the Dosh Khaleen. They were the widows of great khals, women who had once been called Khaleesi before their husbands fell. They would preside over the ceremony proclaiming the destiny of Daenerys' child.

When the time came, she knelt in the centre of the room, surrounded on all sides by the Khalasar, slowly chewing her way through a raw horse's heart. Many of the Dosh Khaleen chanted; the same chorus over and over again as the Wise Woman half-sang half-chanted different strings of verses over them. The prince is riding. Slowly but surely, Daenerys was persevering. I have heard the thunder of his hooves. It was horrible, and yet somehow Saerya couldn't bear to pull her eyes away for a moment. Swift as the wind he rides. She was hiding by her twins' side, away from the presently-jealous Viserys. His enemies will cower before him and their wives will weep tears of blood. The last of the heart was gone, and Daenerys keeled over, supporting herself on her knees and shaking hands. She made a sound that was half-gagging half-sob, and everyone leaned forward intently, the room suddenly silent but for the dripping of horse's blood from the girl's lips. She pressed a hand to them, breaths heaving. Then, slowly, she pushed herself back onto her knees and forced the heart back down her throat. The stallion who mounts the world. Saerya breathed in silent relief. The stallion is the Khal of Khals who will unite the People into a single Khalasar. Daenerys rose to her feet, still looking a little shaky, but confident nonetheless. All the people of the world will be his herd.

"A prince rides inside me!" Daenerys shouted. "And he shall be called Rhaego!" The people in the temple took up the name as a chant as Khal Drogo rose to pick up his Khaleesi above all the others, where she looked as though she had always been meant to be.

°

That night was the great feast for the child inside of the Khaleesi who would become Rhaego, the Stallion Who Mounts the World. Drums seemed to echo through the entire night sky as the fires crackled, bodies dancing rhythmically this way and that. On a small dais, Drogo sat with his Bloodriders, watching over the festivities, drinks in hand.

The twins, supposedly free of their looming shadow in this city where bloodshed was outlawed, laughed and danced with one another amongst the rest in the festivities. Daenerys watched them from her seat amongst her handmaidens with a fond grin.

And then Viserys stumbled in, so clearly drunk. Saerya immediately stepped back, clutching Saelyra's wrist fearfully as he shouted Daenerys' name, a gleeful twinkle of madness in his eye. Glancing over at Khal Drogo, Saerya noticed him watching the Targaryen boy with dark amusement, like a crocodile watching the little bird stumble closer and closer to its open jaws. "Get your hands off me!" He snapped when Jorah attempted to remove him. "No one touches the dragon!"

"Khal rhae mhar." one of the bloodriders chuckled. The literal translation of the insult was not to be taken nearly as seriously as a Dothrakaan would. Sore-footed king became weakling king the longer you listened. "Me ifa!" Their laughter drew Viserys' attention.

"Khal Drogo!" He grinned almost sarcastically. "I'm here for the feast!"

"Nevaki vekha ha maan." Drogo replied simply, his words cut and dark.

"Khal Drogo says there is a place for you," Jorah translated, pointing towards the outside. "Back there." Saerya might've laughed if she weren't so afraid. The Khal had said a lot more than that.

Viserys looked as though he were trying to contain his rage within a stiff nose and straightened spine. "That is no place for a king." He said angrily.

"You. Are. No. King." Drogo told him, sitting back in his seat.

As suddenly and swiftly as one would expect from a madman, Viserys unsheathed his sword, and the music fell silent. Everything fell silent. "Keep away from me!" he shouted, turning the blade on Jorah. The twins hurried to their sister's side as they awaited the fight that was sure to follow. A few of the dancing women hissed at him.

"Viserys, please!" Daenerys.

He looked so smug as he turned to look at her. "There she is." he turned his blade on her.

"Puth the sword down." Jorah warned. "They'll kill us all!"

"They can't kill us! They can't shed blood in their sacred city..." not a thought went through Saerya's mind as she put herself between her brother and sister, his blade coming to rest against her stomach rather than Dany's. His eyes narrowed. "But I can. Make no mistake, sweet Saerya, I will cut through you and kill her all the same." He forced her back a step while Daenerys and Saelyra watched with wide eyes. Irri crouched beside Drogo, waiting to translate. "I want what I came for. I want the crown he promised me." His eyes turned to Daenerys. "He bought you, but he never paid for you. Tell him I want what was bargained for or I'm taking you back. He can keep the baby." The blade's tip pressed a bit harder and Saerya let out a quiet but sharp breath. "I'll cut it out and leave it for him."

Irri's whispers stopped as his monologuing came to an end. Then Khal Drogo said his piece. "You will have your crown, weakling king." Anyone could see the evil joke in his eyes. "You will have a golden crown that men shall tremble to behold."

When Daenerys translated for her brother – minus the insult – his expression changed, becoming almost joyful as he backed away. Saerya's racing heart slowed, and her sisters moved immediately to her sides, an impenetrable wall suddenly between her and her betrothed. "That was all I wanted. What-what was promised." Drogo came to Daenerys' side, placing a protective hand over her stomach. Daenerys gave the tiniest nod.

"Qora mae." two bloodriders rushed forwards, grabbing Viserys by the arms, one of them breaking his right forearm with a nasty crack. They forced him to his knees.

Drogo started forward and a woman brought forward a heavy golden necklace while another man upended the contents of the cauldron over the main fire. Drogo tossed the gold in, listening to Viserys' shrieks and protests as they all watched it melt. "No- no! Saerya! My love, please!" She didn't react in the slightest.

Drogo picked up the cauldron by the handles, smirking down at Viserys as he stared up in horror. "A crown for a king."

"No!" any coherent words dissolved into sizzling and animalistic wailing as the boiling gold was dumped onto his head. He twitched and trembled for half a moment. Then the bloodriders released him and he fell flatly to the ground. Long live the dragon king.