Fandom: Game of Thrones

Characters: Viserys, Magister Illyrio

Author: m_findlow

Rating: M

Length: 690 words

Content notes: none

Author notes: Written for Challenge 261 - Amnesty and Challenge 158 - Egg (Bingo square)

Summary: Viserys is certain he has gotten the better end of the deal.


'Dragon eggs,' Viserys remarked as he sipped from his cup of wine, studying the box with a keen eye as it sat amongst the ever growing pile of wedding gifts. 'Where on earth did you find dragons eggs?'

Magister Illyrio preened his tunic over his rotund belly, pouring himself another goblet of Dornish red. 'There are many treasures still left in this world, Your Grace,' he replied. 'Old Valyria keeps many of her treasures, but these I was able to acquire rather more easily than expected. A fitting give for a Targaryen princess, don't you think?'

Viserys didn't reply. They made a fine gift for a prince, or even a king, true blood of the dragon, but his sister was neither. She wasn't even a princess now. She was a Dothraki whore, albeit an expensive one. One that would buy him the army he needed to take back the Seven Kingdoms from the usurper. It was worth whoring his sister and sacrificing a lesser Targaryen to restore the greatness of their house.

'Old Valyria, you say,' he mused. 'They're not, you know... carrying the scale?' His sister was pretty enough to fool a savage horse lord, but Khal Drogo might not be so keen on keeping his end of their deal if Dany were to be tarnished by greyscale. Viserys had touched her often enough to know that she would please the Khal. She was far more useful to him as a bride gift than a bride. Targaryen may have we'd Targaryen for generations, but Viserys had no interest in his sister beyond what she could give him in terms of power. He would gladly give up the right to bed her whenever he wished if it would bring him an army instead.

'There is no curse upon them, I can assure you,' the Magister promised. 'The Doom of Old Valyria can only be passed on by one of the stone men's touch.'

'Stone men,' Viserys muttered. 'They still exist, do they?'

'If those who dare to venture there would speak truly, then yes. Danaerys's wedding gift however is quite safe.'

'Altogether more extravagant than was necessary, though,' Viserys commented, setting a felted boot up on the table in front of them and leaning back in his chair. 'My sister will have little use for such things.'

'Yet perhaps they will remind her that though she is far from her home and her family, that she is of the dragon's blood, and that all she does in the name of her Khal, she does for the sake of your claim to the Iron Throne. A time may come when their value, not in monetary terms, but in their power to influence, will prove her to be the Targaryen she is by birthright.'

Viserys gave a thin-lipped smile. He watched as three Dothraki men took turns to mount a girl with nothing more than blue paint covering her breasts in full view of the whole khalasar and wedding party. That they hadn't killed one another yet for the pleasure was only a matter of time. Two already had slain each other, fighting over women who were ugly enough to barely be worthy of being taken. They may have loved their horses, but the Dothraki fucked their women like dogs in the street. That will be you soon, sweet sister, Viserys thought. Khal Drogo will turn you over and split your flowering bud like a sword through the heart. You will give it to him and then he will give me something even more valuable. Keep your dragon eggs, for what they're worth.

'I like the way you think, Magister. Yes, Dany will need much reminding of her rightful place.'

'The loyal men and women of Westeros will lavish you with gifts far greater than these once you come into your birthright and are once again seated on the Iron Throne,' Illyrio promised.

Viserys smiled across the court at Kahl Drogo, tipping his glass in toast. Dany and a few dragon's eggs were such a small price to pay. He wondered if Khal Drogo knew just how much he had been cheated.