Short Stories, One Shots and Contest Entries

Danaegar- entry iii

Title: Danaegar
Author: LiviieMarie
Type: Game of Thrones one shot/gender swap
Reason: writing contest entry
Note: For imperio-'s writing contest. Also shoutout to -celextial for making me this awesome cover.

I stood in the bathhouse of Master Illyrio's estate in Pentos, shivering despite the heat from the bath that was being drawn for me. Even the hot breeze coming in through the ornate windows couldn't warm me. Illyrio had been a good host, but now the winds of change were at our door, and my brother had a plan. However it went, this would be my last night of freedom.

Mist curbed through the air as I stared at myself in the looking glass. I was thin for a boy, and not very muscular. My skin was smooth, pale and unblemished, allowing my brother to often scoff and suggest that I should have been born a woman. Sometimes, I agree with him. Viserys is everything a man should me, tall, muscular, good looking. He was born to be a leader, and I? I was born to do what he says, as he often reminds me. The only thing we share is the same silver blonde hair and stormy eyes.
I closed mine so that I no longer had to look at his likeness.

A few maids flitted around me, pouring more steaming water into the large bathtub that would soon hold me. I tried to focus on the sound of the water, but a loud slam that sounded like a door jerked me back to the present.

"Danaegar, there you are," my brother's boisterous voice sounded behind me. I wished I could just sink into the mirror and disappear. I opened my eyes to see Viserys standing at my shoulder, holding something in his hands. I lower my gaze to it. "Noticed have you?" He gave me a sly grin and gestured for me to face him, which I did. My brother was hard to ignore.

"This is what you'll wear tonight." He extended the garments to me, a white shirt that looked like it might be three times too big on me, and black pants, both of the highest quality. I kept my lips pressed together. "Magnificent isn't it? A gift from Illyrio. It's the finest silk imported from across the sea. Go on Dany, feel it."

Unable to disobey him, I let my hand slide across the fabric. Viserys was right, it was magnificent. I could never imagine myself in it.

Viserys whipped away the clothing and handed it to a servant. "You're going to be perfect tonight," he muttered, reaching a pale hand to stroke the side of my face, down my cheek and to my collar bone. His deft hands quickly started unbuttoning my shirt until the fabric slid off my slim shoulders and to the floor. He did the same with my pants, pulling on the stings until they were loose enough to just slip to the ground and I was standing naked before him. It wasn't the first time. Viserys took a step back and studied me, taking his eyes down my naked body in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. We had been naked around each other before, but something about his gaze this time felt more intimate. A chill that had nothing to do with cold ran up my spine.

"What will Khal Drogo do to me?" I asked, hating the fear that gripped my voice. I could barely manage to whisper the question out of fear for the answer.

Apparently Viserys did too, because anger flashed across his face before he chuckled. "Whatever he wants I suppose. That's what he's buying you. Perhaps he'll make you a slave, or he'll turn you into a warrior, or maybe he has a taste for men and will take you as his lover." I flinched at the words. None of these options sounded very appealing. "I would let him do whatever he wants with you if it meant getting my army from him. That was the deal. Don't be go glum, Danaegar. You're worth a whole army."

That was supposed to cheer me up? Viserys was selling me, his own brother, like a common whore, all for an army of brutes to take back the Iron Throne. For all he knew, a common whore was all I would become. He didn't know what the Dothraki would do to me, and he didn't seem to care either. Did I really mean so little to him? We were the only family we had left, and he was willing to sell me? I couldn't help the tears that sprang to my eyes. "I don't want to be sold to Khal Drogo. I don't want to be his slave, or his warrior, or his lover."

"Then what do you want?" he asked with surprising gentleness, but I knew better. He took a step closer to me so that I could feel the scratch of his black shirt brush against my bare chest.

"I want to go home," I whined.

"I want to go home too, Danaegar," he said, and this time he sounded a bit sad. "But we can't go back without an army. Khal Drogo's army. And this is the price we have to pay for it." His hand brushed my cheek again, and it took all my self control not to flinch away. My gaze was on the floor, unable to even look at him anymore. His hand trailed down my neck and brushed across my chest. "You'll do everything Khal Drogo wants, understand?" When I didn't answer, her gripped my chin and forced me to look up at him. His eyes were wide and wild. "You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?"

Whimpering, I shook my head as much as his grip would allow.

"Good." He released me and stepped back. I let loose the breath I didn't realize I had been holding. Even though his hands weren't on me anymore, his gaze lingered. "It's a pity you weren't born a woman," Viserys tutted. "That would have made selling you to Drogo easier. You could have been his wife instead of his whore."

He smirked and left the room, ordering the maids to make me as perfect as possible. Bile rose in my throat, and for once, I was thankful I wasn't born a girl. Targaryens had the tradition of marrying brothers to sisters. If I was a woman, I would have ended up as Visery's wife, not Drogo's. My brother had a hard time keeping his gaze off me now. If I was a woman, he never would have let me go or be touched by another man. The thought made me shudder. He was my brother, but he was a monster. Maybe I was overreacting. Perhaps Khal Drogo wouldn't be so bad.

Briefly, I wondered what it would be like to be happy. Wonderfully, truly happy, without worries of being sold to a stranger. An image flashed through my mind, a memory of when I was a child playing in the streets of Pentos. Julian, a friend of mine who had a dirt poor life, was always so happy, despite the hardships life had given him.

"Julian?" I had asked. "Why are you always so happy when you have so little?" Struggling orphans we may have been, but Illyrio had been good to us when he found us, and we wanted for nothing.

Julian had just grinned at me and said. "Happiness is being confidently weird, Danaegar," and bounded off without another word, leaving me to chase him, both of us laughing.

It had now been many years since I had seen or heard from Julian. Wherever he was, I hoped he was happy. I did not understand what he meant back then, and I still didn't understand it now. How could I be confidently weird when my choices, my very being was being stripped away from me by my brother. He controlled everything about me. Perhaps I would never be happy.

Slowly, I turned to face the tub, which was now nearly full. Steam rose from the water, we well as a mixture of delightful scents coming from the herbs the maids had tossed in. I climbed the steps and had already reached one foot over the lip of the tub when a maid cried out in alarm.

"My Lord! No, it is still too hot!" I saw her rush to me out of the corner of my eyes, but it was too late. My foot touched the water with a barely audible hiss. However, the water didn't feel hot, or at least it did, but I liked it. The boiling water seemed like a long lost friend that I was anxious to embrace. I stepped fully into the tub and sank my body low so that the scalding water engulfed me up to my eyes. Fire cannot harm the dragon.