Daenerys had barely finished changing when Vlad stormed into the room with Viserys slung over one shoulder, tied up like a captured animal. His expression said it all—that kind of icy fury that made even the air around him feel heavier.
—What are you doing? —she asked in disbelief, quickly approaching with her eyes fixed on her brother's limp body—. Why is he like that?
Viserys was gagged, his dirty hair stuck to his face, and his eyes rolled like a fish out of water. Vlad dropped him onto the floor with little ceremony.
—He tried to conspire to sell you to another Khal for a few hundred riders —he said bluntly—. And while he was at it, he planned my death.
Daenerys stepped back, as if struck by an invisible blow. She looked at him, then at her brother, shaking her head silently, lips tightly pressed together.
—No… it can't be.
—Illyrio can confirm it —Vlad added, calmer now—. The idiot didn't even try to be discreet.
She took a deep breath, holding back tears. She hated him—she knew that—but hearing it out loud hurt more than she expected.
—So… are you going to kill him?
—No —Vlad replied, watching her closely—. Not if you ask me not to. He's your brother, and you share his blood. That usually sours a marriage —he tried to joke at the end.
Daenerys said nothing. She walked slowly around the room, not looking at him directly, as if each step helped her organize her emotions. At last, she stopped by the window.
—I want him locked up.
Vlad nodded. It wasn't what he would've done, but he could respect it.
—Fine. I'll keep him alive… but if he tries again, there won't be a third chance.
He approached her slowly and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her tremble slightly, but she didn't pull away.
—You're my wife, and though this marriage didn't begin with love, it's my duty to protect you.
She looked up and simply nodded, accepting the comforting embrace.
When he left the room carrying his "royal gift," he couldn't help but smile. Two hours later, when Viserys awoke inside a rusted iron cage, the look on his face was worth every iron coin spent on the caravan.
—Oh, look at that… the mighty dragon has awakened —he said mockingly, leaning toward the cage—. Feeling comfortable, your grace?
—Mhhgghrrr! —Viserys tried to scream, struggling against the ropes.
—You'll get used to it. You'll have plenty of time for that.
He crouched down and spoke in a low voice, like telling a secret to a spoiled child.
—I promised Daenerys I wouldn't kill you… but I never promised to take care of you. So get ready. You'll eat like a beggar, sleep in the mud, and no one will call you "lord" again. That's your crown now.
Vlad turned without waiting for a reply, leaving behind the muffled screams of the prisoner. He gave a few quick orders to his men: no clean water, no special treatment. Let him learn what it truly meant to be expendable.
His relationship with Daenerys didn't change much in the following weeks—except for one night.
Late in the evening, Vlad was in his chambers in Illyrio's mansion, surrounded by scrolls, drawing lines and rituals. He was studying his Valyrian spell book, the one he had recovered months ago. His fingers traced the lines calmly, memorizing symbols, jotting down ideas for the ritual.
He heard her come in, wasn't going to give it much thought until he noticed Daenerys stopping at his side. She wore a dress, clearly not part of her usual wardrobe. The fabric was light, translucent, with silver-threaded edges. The kind of garment a woman would wear… if she meant to distract.
—It's late, —she said softly, blushing to the ears—. You should come with me. To bed.
Vlad looked up and raised an eyebrow.
—You know… I suddenly feel sleepy. —He chuckled—. If I didn't know you, I'd say you're trying to seduce me.
—I am —she replied without hesitation, walking toward him with slow steps—. I want you to come with me. Tonight… I want you for myself.
The kiss that followed was fiery, and to his surprise, there was no trace of doubt in her—only desire. When they pulled apart, Daenerys' hair was messy, and his shirt was half torn.
—Is this about your brother? —he murmured against her neck while she unfastened his belt with nimble fingers—. Because if this is a poisoning attempt, I should warn you I'm immune to five common toxins.
She bit his earlobe, making him growl.
—Shut up and cooperate, idiot.
Later, while Daenerys slept with a satisfied smile, Vlad stared at the ceiling. He didn't understand the game. Was it gratitude? Strategy? Or did she simply want to forget the day with some human warmth?
Shaking his head, he stood up quietly. Daenerys Targaryen was many things: stubborn, clever, with questionable taste in relatives… but she wasn't Cersei. She wouldn't sleep with him to manipulate him. And though he didn't trust anyone, maybe this time… he could lower his guard. At least until the dragons hatched.
And though he didn't love her—yet—he could treat her with the dignity and care her title of Khaleesi deserved. After all, compared to the men of this era, who mostly treated women like currency, just listening to her made him the most courteous knight in the world.