There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
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She could hear the cries before they reached her tent, Rhaenar dropping the jewellery from her hands as Viserys stalked in, his grip tight on Doreah's hair. She jumped back, anger filling her veins at the sight. He had no right treating Doreah that way, he had no right treating anyone that way. "You send this whore to give me commands?" He threw her to the floor, Doreah cowering from him. "I should have sent you back her head!"
Doreah looked up, tears pooling in the hue of her aqua blue eyes. "Forgive me, Khaleesi. I did as you asked." Rhaenar bent slightly, holding out a hand.
"It'll be okay, Doreah. It's all alright." She glanced to Irri and Daenerys who had previously been making dinner. "Girls, take her and leave us."
She bowed, nodding before grasping hold of Doreah. Daenerys hovered for a moment, before looking between her two siblings with hesitancy. Rhaenar nodded to her, and she joined the others. "Yes, Khaleesi." They hurried away, Rhaenar's brows dipping as she faced her older brother. After this, she could not stand to give him another chance, to let him cling to the pathetic life he leads where he belittles his sisters. She'd always had control of him, with methods that suited him, but she was no longer that girl, she no longer had to soothe him.
Rhaenar had Dothraki constantly surrounding Daenerys and her tents so Viserys would not enter, so they were protected from his ministrations like she should have been years ago. Yet, as she watched him now, prancing around and believing he was better than anyone else, she despised him. "What are you doing? Why would you hit her?!" She screamed, angry at him. He was the last Targaryen male, she reminded herself. The last to carry on blood purity, and was loved by the people of Westeros.
"How many times do I have to tell you? You do not command me." Viserys stalked ever closer to her, his height not intimidating, his stance not intimidating.
"It wasn't commanding you. I just wanted to invite you to supper, to spend time together like we used to. So that perhaps I could see my brother, who I loved for many years." That set him off, his eyes furious glancing around the tent. He could see the pots that had been left brewing, the dishes that had been placed out; Rhaenar had even gone to measures to see that he didn't have to eat horsemeat and fermented milk.
"What's this?" Viserys hurled, grasping onto the leather tunic she had specifically made for him. It was black, printed with the scales of a dragon.
