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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When Drogo returned, the sun had begun to wake; the sky that seemed so dull at night without the Moon of his life, was scattered in shades of lonely orange and sickly yellow. The world seemed haunting without her glow, like nothing would ever return to the same hues as before. He couldn't remember the life he had before her, he didn't care for it the way he had cared for her.
The bloodriders kept their distance behind the Khal, their gazes shifting from one another as they followed after him at a distance. He had rode far, and long, barely resting as he screamed to the Great Stallion and the Mother of Mountains. They had never seen their Khal in such a state, of blind anger and raging sadness. They held their respect for their Khaleesi, a woman gone too soon.
When they got back to the camp, the Dothraki had scattered, whispers of maegi echoing through the camp. Drogo's eyes caught them all as they looked to his tent, only Daenerys standing outside. He dropped down from his horse, stalking over. "Don't go in there!" She cried out, reaching for his arm as chants echoed from inside.
"What have you done?" He fumed, grasping her in a tight grip.
Daenerys whimpered, as she looked at Drogo. "I'm trying to save her!" Despite her cries and pleas, the chanting stopped. He glared at Daenerys, entering the tent. Rhaenar was still on the bed, cleaned of everything with open eyes, her chest rising and falling. Dany entered behind Drogo as they stared at Rhaenar in disbelief.
Mirri Maz Duur stopped cleaning, looking at them with a sick smile. Blood magic, Daenerys was trying to save her with blood magic. There was a reason the Dothraki doesn't mess around with blood magic, and that's because there's always a price.
He bent beside Rhaenar, pushing away her hair. Dany frowned as she watched her sister be unresponsive, her face not moving, her eyes barely following anything. Souk entered the tent, tears streaming down her face. The babe was still in her arms, though this time not blue. Drogo stood, approaching her as she held him out. He was warm to the touch, blood having flushed his cheeks with drool drying beneath his lips. Rhaego lived? He didn't feel a heart rate, or the rise and fall of his chest.
"I told you only death pays for life." Mirri said, eyeing the supposed Stallion. Drogo frowned, not sure on what was being said.
Dany whirled on the woman. "This is not life, you butchered my nephew!" She muttered, glancing at the beautiful baby that was huddled in his father's arms. "When will she be as she was?"
