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༺𓆩❦𓆪༻

"Careful, princess," The man chastised as the girl's hands gripped tightly onto a large rock. She only wanted a peak. "Your brother will have my head if you're seen."

The little girl glanced back toward her companion. She didn't want to think of him as a hired sword, even though that's what he was. She'd rather think of him as a friend, a companion accompanying her on her adventures and voyages. Much like Ser Duncan the Tall was for her great-grandfather.

"I just want to see Dany's wedding," She sighed, lowering herself from the dangerously tall rock. The bottom of her cloak was soaked from the tide, and the breeze was making her rather cold, but she didn't mind. As long as she was somewhat able to be near her sister on her big day, even if she was marrying the terrifying Khal Drogo.

Her companion sighed, glancing between the little girl and the direction of the wedding. He felt bad for her. The shadows were her home despite her love for the sun. Viserys Targaryen was not known for being the best older brother, it's not what he cared to be known for, and as long as he was the head of the Targaryen house, his youngest sister would be known to no one.

The sellsword's lips thinned as he thought, "I could be killed for this."

"Alright, then, since you're so adamant."

The young girl's eyes widened, a smile making it's way to her face as she watched her companion begin walking. His leather armor stopped when he realized she wasn't moving. He turned, raising his eyebrow in question, which nearly instantly had her moving.

"Sorry, sorry," She muttered, raising her cloak as she jumped between the rocks to catch up. She was so excited, it almost looked like she was dancing through the rocks to follow.

The sellsword brought her toward a lower patch of rocks. The tide was high, but he made sure to keep a hand on the girls arm to ensure she wasn't swept away by the unforgiving current. Seagulls squawked, and the waves roared loudly, but they may as well have been silent. The shouting, the beating drums, all of the sounds coming from Dany's wedding that were once faint, she could hear much clearer now. It was far from what she'd imagined weddings to be like, but then again Illyrio had warned Dany that Dothraki ceremonies were nothing like the Westerosis.

She blinked, her thick eyelashes fluttering as she watched her sister. She looked... scared. The little girl couldn't blame her, she would be too. She was scared enough as it was knowing her family would be residing with the Dothraki instead of Illyrio now that Viserys' plan to take back the Iron Throne was in motion.

"Keep your head low, princess," Her companion warned, he himself being on high alert. He watched the wedding if only to make sure no one saw the little Targaryen, and he watched around them to assure no bounty hunters or scum looking for a pretty penny caught wind of her. He was paid handsomely by Illyrio to assure her safety and concealment, for as long as she resided in Pentos, that is. It was the "soon-to-be" King Viserys' second biggest concern, his first being his rightful place on that damned throne.

"I am," the girl claimed as she picked it up more, attempting to get a better view of her sister and her groom. Her violet eyes shifting rapidly as she took it all in. The dancing, the feast, the gifts–perhaps the wedding wasn't all bad?

"Do you think I'll be married off to a Dothraki too?" Her stomach turned at the thought of marriage, but throughout this whole process, Viserys had made it more than clear that he would use his sisters in anyway others saw fit, as long as it meant he'd be king.

"No," Her companion declined. "You'll have a grand wedding–that's much more civilized–with some High Lord or other in Westeros to form an alliance where your brother truly needs it, if you're  lucky."

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