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❝IT IS ONE THING TO HEAR ABOUT DRAGONS... IT'S ANOTHER TO SEE THEM FOR YOURSELF❞
GAME OF THRONES
SEASONS 1-AU 8 & beyond
DAENERYSxOCxOC
! ANY AND ALL SEXUAL SCENES WI...
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IN the wee morning, Vaegon rose from the stiff bed, mind weary and muscles sore. The remnants of his restless sleep lingered in the form of a slight headache and a parched tongue. Leaving Daenerys asleep where she lay, he lumbered toward the window and crossed the small room where a clay pitcher sat inside a basin. Pouring a liberal amount, he leaned forward to splash the water onto his face. He leaned up, letting the liquid roll down his skin like tears.
They were to retrieve the dragons soon, and he would ensure the warlocks would pay for what they had done. He would never let anyone slight him continue without knowing the truth behind the Targaryen's words. Regret filled him anytime he thought they'd been foolish to trust Xaro, but he would ensure the merchant would pay for his insolence.
Vaegon turned to look at Daenerys, who was still sleeping as peacefully as she'd been when she went to sleep. Her silver hair splayed around her head, framing her soft features. She was seemingly peaceful, and he envied her for a moment. He smirked in appreciation for her despite their current predicament that had left him in a sour mood.
He was pleased to see that, through all they'd been through, they had always managed to come back to one another. The lingering pain of her betrayal was still fresh to him, and he was reminded of the constant back-and-forth they'd seemed to do since entering the Dothraki sea. He feared it would become a ruthless cycle, and the past moons almost seemed to prove it.
Not long after dressing himself, Vaegon found Jorah outside the inn in the shade of a stone pillar, shielding him from the quiet street. He seemed to be waiting for the Targaryen and perked at his presence.
"Your Grace," the knight greeted. "Are you well this morning?"
"I will be well once we've retrieved our dragons and left this dastardly city," Vaegon replied with disgust. "I pray this trend does not occur wherever we go."
"Unfortunately, Your Grace, I wouldn't expect anything but that," Ser Jorah frowned. "Without an army, there is little protection for you. News of your dragons has surely spread throughout Essos in the passing weeks and perhaps even Westeros. That most definitely has put a target on your back."
Vaegon grimaced at the truth of the knight's words. Every rich noble and merchant on either side of the Narrow Sea would be vying to get their hands on the only dragons. Dragons were the embodiment of power, and the world knew it.
"They'd be a fool to think they could ever control a dragon," Vaegon muttered as he pondered on what he'd imagined their dragons would look like once they'd grown. It offered a sliver of relief to his worrisome mind. "Dragons demand respect. They aren't slaves."
"Of course not," Ser Jorah agreed.
"I want to return the Seven Kingdoms to he way it was long before the rebellion," Vaegon continued. "I want to see dragons in the skies again and end the petty quarrels the lords entertain for power."
