𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ( 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. )

chapter twelve.

( ACT I; sleeping dragon. )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter 12: reconciliation.

WATER nearly vanished for the meager Khalasar of eighty-three, primarily women, children, old men, and boys without braids. The merciless waste made water scarce, and there was no sure way of finding more. Not only were they running short of water and food, but they were scarce on hope, for the Waste seemed determined to take them all as its casualties grew.

It appeared that the wasteland would perhaps end the return of the dragons before they could ever grow into the fearsome beasts they would once be.

The retinue waited for the return of her three blood riders, Aego, Jhogo, and Rahkaro, whom Daenerys had ordered to scout the different directions in the hope of finding help. Many had lost hope, and those who were weak began to decline toward imminent death slowly. Many did die. Along the trek, some were forced to leave their dead behind to be consumed by the rust-colored sand and wind.

With Daenerys and Jorah, Vaegon lay on his back in the shade of a large boulder, the stone offering the only relief from the blistering sun above. The evening was approaching, so they would all be able to escape the heat for the night, but would trade the heat for cold as they faced the night without the sun.

The impending change in the weather, day in and day out, was wearing them down. During the time that the Khalasar had been wandering the desert, Vaegon's skin had turned a shade of pink and brown throughout his body, which pained him to even lie on the ground.

On his chest lay Rhaellor, curled in on himself within his own leathery blue wings as he peacefully slumbered. Vaegon looked down at the hatchling, envying the dragon's ability to resist the nearly unbearable heat. He watched as Rhaellor's tail flicked in his dreams and felt a stroke of fear that the dragon's return wouldn't fall short because of mere starvation and thirst. He prayed that wherever Daenerys' bloodriders had ventured, they would bring back good news that would save them all. Even better, he prayed they would bring water.

Vaegon's tongue was drier than ever; his lips were chapped and cracked, and his silver hair turned a dusty brown from the abundance of dirt and sand that had accumulated in it. His skin, as everyone else's, was covered in a seemingly permanent layer of dust or grime that appeared as if it might never go away. Whenever he thought of having a bath or even a drink of water, his mouth seemed to water with thirst, if it still could.

Thinking back to their half-year stay at Illyrio's estate, which had overlooked the Narrow Sea in Pentos, he lamented their time there. He cursed himself for ever agreeing to leave civilization. Yet, they wouldn't have the dragons if they hadn't.

"I don't know how much longer I can bear this," Daenerys uttered from where she sat propped against the boulder. Her once beautiful braids had loosened and turned into an array of tangles long ago, her locks a light shade of brown as well. In her lap, Haelyx lay, sound asleep as Rhaellor was, while Drokar remained perched on her shoulder, his bright beady eyes gazing around. Luckily, the dragons had managed to maintain their health, lessening those worries for Daenerys and Vaegon.