Game of Thrones: Fanfic: Deep breath

[m_findlow]

Title: Deep breath
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters: Daenerys, Viserys, Magister Illyrio, Khal Drogo
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 614 words
Content notes: I don't own them, they belong to George Martin
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Any, any, deep breath" at fic_promptly
Summary: Dany faces her greatest challenge so far

Daenerys sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies that were raging around in her stomach. She had known this day might come, but now that it was here, she was terrified. What she was terrified of more, she couldn't say, the man she was to be wed to, or awakening the dragon. Both filled her with a dread.

The man came before them on his horse, a great beast of a thing, bigger than any war horse she'd ever laid eyes on. Bigger still was the man who rode it. She'd always thought of her brother Viserys as a tall man, and the Magister Illyrio taller still, and as wide as three men, but standing this man would have towered over them both. On horseback, he seemed a giant. Do not disappoint them Dany, the giant or the dragon.

'See his braid, Dany?' her brother whispered in her ear. 'It's said that in battle, the Khal cuts off the braid of his defeated foe to show that he has been beaten. Khal Drogo has the longest braid of all Dothraki because he has never been defeated. He commands the greatest Khal in the land, and you will bring me his army.'

She felt him give her a less than gentle shove in the back, forcing her forward. She took one tentative step after another towards the mighty horselord, legs shaking beneath her skirts, fearing what she might do if she hesitated in any way. Somehow though, her steps brought her to the foot of the Khal's assemblage, though she couldn't recall having breathed even a single breath.

Standing there before this giant of a man, his coppery skin laid bare from the hip up, marked with battle scars and black designs, long thick braid of raven coloured hair hanging to his saddle, tiny bells woven into its great thickness, she felt a waif, unworthy to be in his presence.

Her dress was the palest shade of lilac, sheer with small clasps at each shoulder, fancied in the shape of dragons heads. It was not a dress to honour a woman, she knew. It was a bridal shroud, allowing her future husband to adjudge if she was worthy. All of their hopes and dreams rested on her slim shoulders.

She chanced a glimpse at the Khal's face, seeing dark pools of almost black watching her with a hungry aura. This was really happening, she thought. She would be this man's husband and he would give Viserys and army and gold enough for them to return to Westeros and claim back the Iron Throne from the Usurpers.

He reached out a hand and touched her fine silvery hair, and she almost shirked away from his touch before remembering her task. You are Daenerys Stormborn. You have the blood of dragons in you. You will marry this man whether you love him or not because it is your duty. Because you do not wish to wake the dragon, she reminded herself.

The Khal's mighty horse reared slightly, startling her, before he and his assemblage left the plaza.

'What?' she heard Viserys hiss. 'That's it?' He spun to face Magister Illyrio, his face twisted. 'Will he take her or not?'

'Patience, your grace,' Illyrio said. 'You have much to learn about the ways of the Dothraki, but he has accepted your gift.'

Viserys smiled a thin smile of pleasure. He stood behind Dany and gripped her shoulders, pinching them tight enough to hurt.

'Well done, sweet sister. You have pleased the dragon,' he said, before leaving with the Magister.

Dany stood there alone in the courtyard, finally heaving out the breath trapped in her lungs.