𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ( 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. )

chapter two.

( ACT I; sleeping dragon )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter 2: a time of trials.

A wedding is meant to be a joyous celebration, a union that benefits those who participate in it. It was never an occasion intended to be dreaded or abhorred by the bride's brother. Despite the savage celebration that was taking place before him, where he sat near Viserys and Magister Illyrio below Daenerys and Drogo, Vaegon couldn't bear the thought of the inevitable.

Would Drogo take her, as the Dothraki are rumored to take their horses? Forcing her into a far cry from what she was ever meant to see. They were a vile people, he knew, more akin to animals than humans. The thought of their savagery sickens him, thinking that any other man might know her as Vaegon did.

Their couplings were no known fact. It was a secret kept from Viserys for years to prevent him from possibly destroying what they had. In the past months, Vaegon and Daenerys had lain together more times than one might count, all for love, yet their brother was never meant to know. Vaegon was a man of twenty-four, and Daenerys merely a moon from seven-and-ten, and six months passed before he'd taken her maidenhead. They were young and wild with lust, one might say, but the two's spark had yet to fade. He had been her first, but she had not been his. A visit to a Pentosi pillow house with a pretty Lyseni girl when he was five and ten had done away with that.

So, it was incredibly heartbreaking to see her sit beside the savage, a man who made Vaegon look so small, knowing that he would eventually take her.

Merchants, nobles, and those alike had been humbly coming forth to the new Khal and Khaleesi, offering wedding gifts from all over the world. Snakes, jewelry, herbs, cloths and silks, animals, gold; there seemed to be no end. The Dothraki were not known for being meek people, as slaves carried away gifts without expressing a word. 

Disgusting-looking foods were being fried and roasted all around, emitting somewhat pleasant smells as long as one did not gaze into the pans. In the area below them, which served as a dance floor, Vaegon was disgusted to see the way that the savages danced, some even beginning to rip away the garbs of the dancing women to begin a public display of carnal lust. The sounds of the drums beating and the people hollering as they fucked worsened it all for him. He wished he could leave the scene, but it obviously offended the Khal.

His violet eyes moved toward Dany, seeing she was less than pleased to sit beside the Khal. She was slightly leaning away so as not to touch the man's olive-toned skin. Her brows were furrowed, and her lips held tight together. The site was heartbreaking, and the longer Vaegon looked and thought about her, the more he grew broken inside.

"When will I get to meet with the Khal?" Viserys asked Illyrio haughtily, drawing Vaegon's attention. "I need to begin planning the invasion. The celebrating has gone on long enough."

"You will, Your Grace, once their omens favor war," the Magister replied.

Viserys sneered as he lifted his horn chalice to his lips. "I piss on Dothraki, omens. I've waited nearly seventeen years to get my throne back."