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❝IT IS ONE THING TO HEAR ABOUT DRAGONS... IT'S ANOTHER TO SEE THEM FOR YOURSELF❞
GAME OF THRONES
SEASONS 1-AU 8 & beyond
DAENERYSxOCxOC
! ANY AND ALL SEXUAL SCENES WI...
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WATER all but vanished for the Khalasar, leaving them with a scarce amount and no sure way of finding more. Not only were they running short of water, but they were scarce on hope for the Waste seemed determined to take them all as it's casualties grew and perhaps end the return of the dragons before they could ever grow into the fearsome beasts they would once be. The retinue awaited on the return of the three bloodriders that Daenerys had ordered to scout the different directions in hope of finding help, but the wait was strenuous and hard. Many had lost hope and those who were weak began to slowly decline toward an imminent death. Along the trek, some were forced to leave the dead behind to be consumed by the rust colored sand.
Along with the retinue and Daenerys and Jorah, Vaegon lied on his back in the shade of a boulder, it offering the only relief from be blistering sun above. Evening was luckily approaching, so they all would be able to escape the heat for the night but would face the cold to come. The impending change of the weather day in and day out was wearing down on them. During the time that the retinue had been wandering the desert, Vaegon's skin had turned a shade of pink and brown throughout his body and it pained him to lie on the ground due to the sunburn he'd developed.
On his chest lied Rhaellor, curled in on himself within his own leathery wings as he peacefully slumbered. Vaegon looked down at the hatchling, envying the dragons ability to resist the nearly unbearable heat. He watched as Rhaellor's tail flicked in his dreams and hoped that the dragon's return wouldn't fall short because of mere starvation and thirst. He prayed that wherever Daenerys' bloodriders had ventured, they brought back good news that would save them all. Even better, he prayed they brought water.
His tongue was dryer than it had ever been, his lips chapped and cracking and his silver hair turned a shade of dust brown due to 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 dirt or grime that appeared as if it may never go away. Whenever he thought of a having a bath or even a drink of water, his mouth seemed to water with thirst. He thought back to their stay at Illyrio's estate, which had overlooked the Narrow Sea in Pentos. He cursed himself for ever agreeing to leave civilization. Yet, they wouldn't have their children if they hadn't.
"I don't know how much longer I can bare 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 turned a shade of brown as well. In her lap Haelyx lied, sound asleep as Rhaellor was while Drokar remained perched on her shoulder, his bright beady eyes gazed around. Luckily, the dragons had managed to maintain their health, lessening the worries for Daenerys and Vaegon.
"We must hold on, Khaleesi," Jorah tells her, despite him looking as if he were ready to give up himself. "All we need to to do is keep moving. Every second we move we are one step closer than we were before."
