Dany held her breath as she watched Drogo slowly stand, then take the few steps to reach Khal Jommo before extending one hand, palm upright in order to accept the simple leather strap that would mean 10,000 more men joining their khalasar. Jommo, who was once a Khal, placed the strap into Drogo's hand, surrendering his entire khalasar to the father of the Khal of Khals. In a sudden move, Drogo clapped Jommo on the shoulder in a show of goodwill, and gestured for him to join the bloodriders in their place of honor on the dais, which the older man accepted with dignity.
Dany breathed a sigh of relief, and turned her attention back to searching the crowds for her brother. No beautiful platinum hair was to be seen in the Hall besides her own. She smiled as her maids joined her, and she gestured for Jorah to join them. He looked surprised, but rose from his seat further back in the hall and approached her, bowing for a moment before taking a seat near her on a cushion.
"You honor me, Khaleesi," he said quietly.
"It's not to honor you, Ser Jorah. It's so I have someone to talk to," she laughed softly, keeping her words quiet and away from the ears of the women seated with them. "I want to enjoy this at least a little. Tell me an adventure you've had? Something that happened on Bear Island?"
He grimaced slightly before he could train his face to remain neutral. "A tale of snow and winter? Of hunting? Or the cold sea with ice forming on the rocks as the waves crash over them? How about how love can turn to cold greed, Khaleesi?"
"No, perhaps we should save those tales for really hot days," she agreed, realizing that talk of home right now wasn't the best idea she'd had. "What of Rhakaro and Jhogo? Where are they seated?" She glanced around the large room once more.
"Rhakaro is there," Jorah said, gesturing to her right, behind the dais. "He watches over you even now. Jhogo sits with you husband, with Cohollo and Qotho."
More and more people came into the already crowded temple, and Dany soon forgot to look for her brother. She concentrated on keeping her stomach under tight control as food was passed under her nose and offered to her. Most of the food, heavily seasoned meats and roasted roots, made her senses recoil in horror. Too much, too fast, their scents overwhelmed her. Irri, watching carefully, soon rose from her seat and retrieved a simple wooden platter loaded with fresh fruits and newly baked bread straight from the fires. The tiny, juicy purple grapes that grew just outside Vaes Dothrak immediately appealed to her, and she took a small handful to slowly eat when she would catch Drogo looking at her, wanting him to see her eating and appearing to enjoy the food.
Dancers began to circle the fire pit, using the rhythm of the drums to carry them through their mystical movements, and Dany laughed at a teasing Doreah, who was telling them about Holakko's misguided attempt at getting his new sex interest to come into their tent.
She sensed him before she saw him, but knew the split second that he stumbled into the hall that her brother was drunk. "Daenerys!" he called out, yelling over the festivities impatiently. "Where's my sister?"
Quickly and quietly, she placed her hand on Ser Jorah's arm. "Stop him," she said, keeping her voice low and from sounding as panicked as she felt. He was going to ruin her and Drogo's feast, ruin their son's heart feast. Drogo would not find this amusing in the slightest, and Dany would be powerless to stop him from killing her brother.
"Where is she? I'm here for the feast," Viserys mocked, a maniacal grin on his face as he looked around the temple at everyone, waving his arms about unsteadily. "The whore's feast."
Jorah reached him with those words, and laid his hands on Viserys' back lightly, trying to steady him and get his attention without drawing any more toward Dany. "Come," he invited, forcing a warmth toward the man that he did not feel.
"Get your hands off me," Viserys sneered. "No one touches the Dragon."
Glancing from her brother to her husband, she groaned inwardly as Drogo did nothing to hide his disdain for Viserys.
Qotho, one of Drogo's closest bloodriders, mocked openly in his drunkeness. "Khal Rakh Mhar."
Dany gulped down her panic as Drogo laughed, a hollow, threatening sound, nothing like his laugh when he was with her. Not even a trace of her affectionate husband was in that laugh, but Viserys recognized the voice. "Khal Drogo," he called out. "I'm here for the feast." He stumbled toward her husband, apparently expecting that he would be seated next to the Khal, his closest bloodriders, and other men of honorable status at this celebration.
Drogo gestured to a low table, set back quite a long way from him and the bloodriders. Dany closed her eyes for a moment as Drogo told Viserys that he belonged back there with the other women. Her heart started pounding. Drogo was trying to aggravate him, just to see what would happen. Jorah translated and smoothed over the insults a little, trying to save Daenerys the shame, not Viserys' feelings.
Viserys sneered and shook his head. "That is no place for a king," he complained loudly.
"You. Are. No. King." Drogo answered, using the Common Tongue that Dany had been teaching him, enunciating every word clearly.
Viserys didn't hesitate to draw his sword. Oh shit, it's over. He's dead, Dany realized. Her stomach churned and she grew lightheaded, her heart pounding in her throat as Ser Jorah approached him, hoping to disarm the situation, "Keep away from me!" Viserys commanded, turning the blade toward the older, unarmed knight.
"Viserys, please," Dany pleaded, coming forward so Viserys could see her. The dancers were hissing and cursing at Viserys and his shining steel sword, no other sounds were heard in the room. The drums had stopped the moment he had pulled the blade, and no one dared breathe a word.
"There she is," he whispered, and a small smile graced his face as he saw the fear and panic on hers.
"Put the sword down," Jorah commanded. "They'll kill us all."
"They can't kill us," Viserys answered, pointing the sword at him. "They can't shed blood in their sacred city." He approached the raised platform where she had been sitting, sword now seeking her instead of Ser Jorah.
Doreah stepped in front of Dany to shield her from the blade, but Dany pushed her aside and exposed herself, trying to show him that she didn't fear him any longer. It was a farce to distract him, as she had seen Drogo nod out of the corner of his eye, and her heart pounded in her ears as she saw Cohollo and Qotho stealthily get up from their places and move in a wide arc behind her brother. She would do her part. She held her head high and met her brother's mad gaze, even as Jorah closed in on him and that shining sword touched the growing swell of her baby boy. She let Viserys push her back down onto her cushions by that sharp point, Irri already at Drogo's side to translate her brother's words.
Dany didn't dare look at Drogo, but kept him in the corner of her eye as she kept her eyes locked on the dark purple of Viserys'. Drogo was tense, more so than she'd ever seen him. He looked like he was about to jump from his seat and take Viserys down by brute strength alone, but that sharp point was too close to her. "I want what I came for. I want the crown he promised me," Viserys said, slowly and clearly. "He bought you, but he never paid for you." Dany forced herself to not cry. Viserys had never loved her. She was only a pawn, and now it was in the hands of another man whether she would live or die. "Tell him I want what was bargained for or I'm taking you back. He can keep the baby. I'll cut it out and leave it for him." Dany's mind screamed in horror. He would do it. He would murder her baby. She could see it in his crazed, drunken eyes. She felt as though she would vomit.
A few moments of silence filled the air as Irri finished the translation and Drogo thought out his words. He spoke slowly so Daenerys wouldn't miss a single word he said. His voice was calm and soothing, meant to comfort her and it was a promise that no harm would come to her.
"What's he saying?" Viserys demanded quietly, letting that blade press against her a little more, the sharp sting of it piercing her skin bringing tears to her eyes.
Dany let the words wash through her for a moment. "He says 'Yes. You shall have a golden crown that men shall tremble to behold.'" She didn't know what was coming, but it spelled out something bad for her brother. He threatened her son. He would kill Rhaego if he had the chance, and he would not stop. The only way Rhaego would live is if Viserys died, she realized that now. Her mind reeled with the realization that there was no choice to make. It would be Rhaego who would live.
Viserys' whole demeanor changed. He backed off her, sword tip dropping down to the ground. She took a deep breath, suddenly sorry for this pathetic man who used to be her brother. "Well, that was all I wanted," he said with a smile. "What was promised." It was the smile that killed any love for him that Dany still harbored. It was the deluded smile of a mad man not comprehending the repercussions of his actions. She felt suddenly sad for him, knowing his death was near. She kept her eyes trained on his, but she could see Qotho, Jhogo, and Rhakaro were closing in on him, their eyes all fixed on Viserys, waiting for their Khal to make a gesture or give a single word for them to leap into action.
Drogo stood slowly then, and Viserys backed off another step. Reaching out to her, Drogo rested his warm palm against her belly where their son was growing, over the stinging wound Viserys had inflicted, barely scratching her skin. She grasped his hand tightly, gaining the comfort he sought to give her before her eyes met his, sad but accepting what had to be done. Her look of resignation was all he needed.
"Take his arms," Drogo said, not breaking his gaze from Dany. She could feel his hand shake slightly as he drew away from her, and she looked away first, to meet her brother's betrayed expression as Qotho and Jhogo grabbed him, Qotho snapping his arm and Viserys yelled out, "NO! NO! You cannot touch me! I'm the Dragon! I want my crown!" Drogo looked away from her, not wanting to see his wife's heart breaking.
He took off his gold belt, the large coins jangling together as he commanded that the pot of stew over the hottest fire be dumped out. Dany's tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, her body suddenly dry of all fluids. She watched silently as Drogo dropped his belt into the pot and knelt over it, Viserys knocked to the ground by the two bloodriders holding his arms, one broken and dangling uselessly in Qotho's grip. She watched as the gold began to melt, and Ser Jorah came to her, taking her gently by the arm. "Look away, Khaleesi," he said gently to her, hoping she would listen.
"No," she said compassionately. She would look, if not for her brother's sake, then for the rest of the watching khalasar. She would not be weak. She would be seen as a strong Khaleesi by keeping her eyes open and not shying away from death, even the death of her closest kin.
The dire nature of the situation finally dawned on Viserys, and Dany knew it wasn't so much that Drogo was melting several pounds of gold over a fire, but the tired resignation that he could see in her eyes, the fact that she refused to look away from him, despite the gentle tugging on her arm by Ser Jorah. "Dany . . . Dany . . ." he stuttered. "Tell them . . . make them . . . make them!"
Drogo approached, the pot of gold in his hands protected by horsehair gloves. "No, you can't! Just . . . please! DANY PLEASE!" he pleaded as Qotho and Jhogo held him firmly in place. Dany couldn't speak to him, even if she had wanted to. He had threatened her son. He had threatened Rhaego's very life within her. Would cut him out to leave him to die.
Drogo stood over him as Viserys tore his gaze away from Dany to meet his death. "A crown for king," Drogo said in the Common Tongue, for all to hear, and tipped the cauldron over his head. Viserys screamed and writhed, and Drogo dropped the pot to kneel down and look the insane man in the eyes as he died, only moving out of the way when his bloodriders let him drop to the ground, dead.
Dany couldn't bring herself to look away, even now. She stared at her brother's dead eyes, still accusing her of treachery. Her chest ached, and it took all her strength to make her body breathe. This man had been born of her mother, just as she had. He had loved once, and been loved by her. Rhaella was gone, and now so was Viserys. She was the last Targaryen left. She felt more alone in that moment than she had in her entire wandering life.
"Khaleesi?" Ser Jorah asked quietly, looking to console her.
"He was no dragon. Fire cannot kill a dragon," she said, her words sounding hollow to her own ears. She knew, in that moment, who the true Dragon was.
"Come, sit," he said gently, and guided her back to the cushions. She watched as a few slaves came in and picked up her brother's body. Ser Jorah immediately went to them and gave them directions, she didn't know to what end. The world was echoing strangely around her, the sounds of drums, of talking and laughter sounding more like the rushing of some great river to her ears. Doreah and Irri returned to her, and they sat closely to her for the rest of the evening. Dany managed to eat a little, and participate in some conversations, but she really wanted to go home. Home where it was quiet, to change her clothes and climb into her bed, where she could fall asleep and forget this day had ever happened, even if it was for only a few short hours.