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– Bonelessstarks
WARNING: blood, gore, murder, drugs?
Threats of suicide + violence
DAENERYS TARGARYEN ;
Daenerys watches you fidget with the gold Lysene coin, tracing your finger along the stamped woman and flipping it between your hands. Anyone else might not have noticed how pale your complexion was, but Dany wasn't anyone else, and she noticed everything about you. "You look at that coin as if it will cut you," Daenerys said, smiling brightly at you. "Is something wrong?" She allowed her face to soften into a concerned frown when you sighed and tightened your jaw, nodding.
"I think I was from Lys, Khaleesi." You breathe out, your voice barely a whisper and Daenerys has to lean forward to hear you. Motioning for you lay next to her on her bed, you diligently sink beside her on top of the sheets, passing her the coin and grazing your knuckled over her palm. "I must have been or Kraznys would not have offered me as a Lysene bed slave."
Your words irk Daenerys, and she curls her hands into fists over the coin, closing her eyes to remember how he screamed as her dragon lit him aflame, and the smell of his burnt skin. She wished she'd killed him earlier. "I was – I," you fumble to choke the words out and Daenerys reaches out to grasp your hand and guides you to lay on your back, Dany curled around your body, propped up by an elbow as she stares down at you.
Her hair was loose from its braids, and it falls over her shoulders like a silver waterfall, comforting you enough to force the words out. "I was – before you, I was engaged to Mazdhan the gold. Not a real engagement, I was never going to be his wife just a bed slave." Your eyes are shut tightly, and Daenerys wants to rage, instead, she leans down to kiss away the tears in the corner of your eyes.
You inhale unsteadily, opening your eyes as her hands draw patterns over your collarbones, running over your ticklish spots that have you smiling, tucking your chin to your neck to escape her hands. "He was called the gold for his beard that he dipped in molten gold. Sometimes he dipped his favourite slave's hands in gold, a sign they were his. I might have had my hands painted gold." You hold your hands to your eyes, examining your fingers and imagining them blistered and raw underneath the gold imprint.
"Daenerys," you call, sitting up on your hands and eyes boring into hers. "I'm scared he'll hear of me hear and come and collect me. You arrived before he could claim me, it might make him angry." You were so frightened, but Daenerys surprised you when she held your face firmly in her hand. "I freed you, [y/n]. You belong to yourself, and no one can claim you." She was fierce and her eyes burned against yours.
"If he comes, he will face fire and blood for I will never part from you." She laughs darkly and you burrow your head into her chest, falling flat with her on the bed as she holds your head into her and strokes your bare shoulders. Daenerys knowns men like Mazdhan call her monster behind her back and they cry for her death, but let them come for you and she will show them fire made flesh and burn their cities to the ground.
VISERYS TARGARYEN ;
Not a happy boy to say the least. Viserys would strive to kill or seriously main anyone betrothed to you, determined to keep you by his side at all costs. He's to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms. How dare anyone think they have more claim to you than he does.
The curtain flies open in a rush and Viserys storms into your tent, almost ripping the opening flap off in his anger. "What is the meaning of this?" He snarls, gesturing to the serval slaves huddled by the corner of your bed with their heads low. "Who the fuck is Zollo?" At the name, the slaves cower and turn sheet white, pressing more firmly against your bed. Smiling a bitter smile, you slump in your seat, your muscles feeling like lead.
