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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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IT is in the wee hours in the morning when Vaegon rises from the stiff bed, mind weary and muscles sore. The remnants of his restless sleep linger in the form of a slight headache and a parched tongue. Leaving Daenerys asleep where she lies, he lumbers toward the window a crossed the small room where a clay pitcher sits inside of a basin. Pouring a liberal amount, he leans forward to splash the water into his face. He leans up, allowing the liquid to roll down his skin like tears.
They were to retrieve their dragons soon and he was going to ensure the warlocks would pay for what they had done. He would never let anyone who had slighted him carry on without knowing the truth behind the Targaryen words. He realized they'd been foolish to trust Xaro, but he was going to ensure that the merchant would pay for his insolence.
He turns to look at Daenerys, who is still sleeping as peacefully as she'd been when he'd went to sleep. Her silver hair splayed around her head, framing her soft features. She was in a seemingly peaceful state and he envied her for a moment. Vaegon smirked to himself 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 managed to always 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 always seemed to do. He feared it would become a ruthless cycle and the past moons almost seemed to prove it.
Not long after dressing himself, Vaegon finds Jorah outside of the inn in the shade of a stone pillar that shielded him from the quiet street. He seems to be waiting for the Targaryen and perks at his presence.
"Your Grace," the knight greets. "Are you well this morning?"
"I will be well once we've retrieved our dragons and left this dastardly city," Vaegon replies with disgust. "I pray this trend does not occur wherever we go."
"Unfortunately, Your Grace, I wouldn't expect anything but that," Ser Jorah frowns. "Without an army, there is little protection for you. News of your dragons has surely spread throughout Essos and perhaps even Westeros. That most definitely has put a target on your back."
Vaegon grimaces 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 in existence. Dragons were power and the world knew it.
"They'd be a fool to think they could ever control a dragon," Vaegon mutters as he reminisces on the thought of what he'd imagined their dragons looking 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 the way it was long before the rebellion," Vaegon continues. "I want to see dragons in the skies again and put an end to the petty quarrels the lords entertain for power."
