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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"We have those meetings today." Rhaenar muttered to Drogo, her hands running through the pale braids as she gazed back at her husband. He was still scrunched up in bed, the thin sheets barely covering his manhood as he watched her through hooded eyes. "We need to convince them we can trade with them, that we're willing to send horses in exchange for ships."
"You will do beautifully, as you always have, Moon of my Life." She grinned at him, turning in her seat slightly. She had woken up more lighthearted than before, their union having been solidified for a year now.
She stood from the stool, Rhaenar making her way over to him before settling herself in his lap, waves of pale blonde falling across her shoulder as she leaned down. "None of this would have been possible if it wasn't for you, My Sun and Stars. Look at how far your Khalasar has come."
"Look at how far I have come because of you. A year ago, I was a Khal with no Khaleesi, a Horselord who pillaged and ransacked villages. Now I have my Khaleesi, and I have travelled the Red Waste in search of greater things; with my promise to the Mother of Mountains that I plan to fulfil." He sat up slightly, his nose brushing hers as his eyes darted to her lips.
"I love you, Khal Drogo, son of Bharbo."
"And I love you, Rhaenar Blackyre." Their lips met, her hand cupping at his large cheek as their eyes fluttered closed. She loved having moments like this, like they weren't battling for the Throne or the safety of the Khalasar; they were just two people heavily in love. Rhaenar pulled back with a grin on her face, the sun hitting her cheeks just right as Drogo watched her.
"Come on, we better start getting ready." The two quickly through on their new Dothraki garments, Drogo helping tie Rhaenar into her dress as she adorned her neck with an armour-like collar. Their hands interlocked as they left, and made their way to a large palace not far from Xaro's.
"He shouldn't make me wait." Daenerys muttered, her tone agitated as she paced the length of the hall. Rhaenar kept close to Drogo as their eyes watched her sister, her fashion growing more like Qartheens every day.
