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fandomweekly2026-02-08 12:59 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2026-02-08 12:59 pm
Entry tags:
[#290] IT IS KNOWN (A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE)
Theme Prompt: #290 - Princess
Title: It is known
Fandom: Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire)
Rating/Warnings: M
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Dany is in a strange land where old titles give way to new ones.
Dany curled by the small brazier in her tent, knees tucked to her chest as she held the book against them, engrossed in its pages. In this strange new world where she barely spoke enough Dothraki to instruct her handmaidens, the pages of Common Tongue felt comforting and familiar.
The tent flaps fluttered and Dany nearly jumped out of her skin as the tall Westerosi knight lowered himself inside. ‘Ser Jorah,’ she said, trying to keep her voice calm.
‘I did not mean to startle you, Princess,’ he replied. ‘You have nothing to fear from anyone in the Khalasar, least of all me. I only came to see if you had wish of company.’ He spotted the book in her hands. ‘I am glad you are enjoying your wedding gift. I shall leave you to your reading.’
Dany quickly scrambled to her feet. ‘No, Ser Jorah, wait. Please. I would very much like your company.’ This knight from across the seas, from the place she'd been born but had never laid eyes on, was kind to her. He had no reason to show her kindness for he was bound to her brother and bound to her husband also in many ways, but kindness was what he gave her nonetheless. In this strange new world where she knew only her brother, he was a reassuring presence.
‘If it pleases you,’ he said, lowering himself to the carpets arranged around the brazier.
Dany watched him as he studied the flames. ‘Why do you call me princess?’
The knight’s blue eyes met hers. ‘Because that is what you are. You are the child of King Aerys II and his sister-wife Rhaella, sister to Viserys, who is their surviving heir. When Viserys takes back the throne that is rightfully his, you will be his heir until he brings forth a child. Had Viserys chosen to marry you and make you his sister-wife, you would be Queen.’
‘But he did not,’ she replied. She didn't want to admit to Ser Jorah that marrying her brother was a far more terrifying prospect than marrying Khal Drogo. Viserys could be cruel, and often was. He would have taken other women to bed despite their marriage, just as he had taken his sister to bed before her own marriage. He dared not come to her tent now with the Khal and his bloodriders watching over her so closely. That was something; knowing Viserys would no longer rape her, for it was never a pleasurable experience. He took what he wanted from her and gave her nothing in return. As tall and strong a man as Drogo was, he at least looked at her differently as he stripped her sandsilk from her body. He didn't use his teeth to bite down on her nipples, or take a fistful of her hair and pull her head back as he took her the way her brother would have. He touched her, if not gently, but with reverence, in the same way he would brush his horse, respectful of its place in his life.
‘I am. Drogo’s wife now,’ she told him. ‘Any claim to my Targaryen bloodline is forfeit.’
‘You are Khaleesi now,’ he reminded her. ‘The Khal is a king amongst his own men, and you his queen.’
Dany tried to school her expression. ‘Do not let Viserys hear you calling me a queen. It would awaken the dragon.’
Jorah stretched out his legs before crossing them again. ‘He may be king one day, but that day is not yet come, however much he desires it. He needs Khal Drogo and his men to take back the West, and even then, he must first convince them to cross waters that no Dothraki has ever crossed before.’
‘Perhaps my brother could pay them more gold.’ As she cast her eyes around the room she wondered not only how much, but where Viserys might obtain it from. He had already traded his only valuable asset – his sister.’
‘The Dothraki do not value gold in the same way your brother does, ‘he warned her. ‘They do not covet it for its beauty or wealth. It is a tool with which to trade. With gold they can trade in Vaes Dothrak with the Free Cities traders for weapons and armour – things they could not make themselves but which are of far more value. A bloodrider may wear a belt of gold but only as a show of the prize he has looted from his enemy. He would trade it in a heartbeat for the finest steel arakh or high quality leather for saddling. The gold here will travel with us but it will be exchanged as soon as it can be. A man who cannot source the best steel or armour knows a Khal will greatly appreciate a tribute of gold for what he cannot buy himself.
Dany clutched her book to her chest, surveying the tent full of gifts. She had almost none herself, except for her books and her dragon eggs. She had no gold she could give to her brother who could, in turn, gift it to Khal Drogo. She could only hope that her own value would be enough. She did not think Drogo would renege, but then again, what difference would it make now? Whether Viserys became King or not, Dany would remain here with Drogo’s khalasar, would bring him a son, or many sons, fit to ride with him, and would retire to Vaes Dothrak when her Khal died. There was no going back to Westeros for her, no seeing Dragonstone, or walking the hallways of the Red Keep in King's Landing. She would never be Princess Danaerys of House Targaryen. Be fate was no longer tied to her brother's ascendancy to the throne.
‘I am Khaleesi,’ she said, as if speaking the words out loud for the first time would finally shed all other titles.
‘You are,’ Jorah replied, nodding. ‘Perhaps the greatest there will ever be.’
Title: It is known
Fandom: Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire)
Rating/Warnings: M
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Dany is in a strange land where old titles give way to new ones.
Dany curled by the small brazier in her tent, knees tucked to her chest as she held the book against them, engrossed in its pages. In this strange new world where she barely spoke enough Dothraki to instruct her handmaidens, the pages of Common Tongue felt comforting and familiar.
The tent flaps fluttered and Dany nearly jumped out of her skin as the tall Westerosi knight lowered himself inside. ‘Ser Jorah,’ she said, trying to keep her voice calm.
‘I did not mean to startle you, Princess,’ he replied. ‘You have nothing to fear from anyone in the Khalasar, least of all me. I only came to see if you had wish of company.’ He spotted the book in her hands. ‘I am glad you are enjoying your wedding gift. I shall leave you to your reading.’
Dany quickly scrambled to her feet. ‘No, Ser Jorah, wait. Please. I would very much like your company.’ This knight from across the seas, from the place she'd been born but had never laid eyes on, was kind to her. He had no reason to show her kindness for he was bound to her brother and bound to her husband also in many ways, but kindness was what he gave her nonetheless. In this strange new world where she knew only her brother, he was a reassuring presence.
‘If it pleases you,’ he said, lowering himself to the carpets arranged around the brazier.
Dany watched him as he studied the flames. ‘Why do you call me princess?’
The knight’s blue eyes met hers. ‘Because that is what you are. You are the child of King Aerys II and his sister-wife Rhaella, sister to Viserys, who is their surviving heir. When Viserys takes back the throne that is rightfully his, you will be his heir until he brings forth a child. Had Viserys chosen to marry you and make you his sister-wife, you would be Queen.’
‘But he did not,’ she replied. She didn't want to admit to Ser Jorah that marrying her brother was a far more terrifying prospect than marrying Khal Drogo. Viserys could be cruel, and often was. He would have taken other women to bed despite their marriage, just as he had taken his sister to bed before her own marriage. He dared not come to her tent now with the Khal and his bloodriders watching over her so closely. That was something; knowing Viserys would no longer rape her, for it was never a pleasurable experience. He took what he wanted from her and gave her nothing in return. As tall and strong a man as Drogo was, he at least looked at her differently as he stripped her sandsilk from her body. He didn't use his teeth to bite down on her nipples, or take a fistful of her hair and pull her head back as he took her the way her brother would have. He touched her, if not gently, but with reverence, in the same way he would brush his horse, respectful of its place in his life.
‘I am. Drogo’s wife now,’ she told him. ‘Any claim to my Targaryen bloodline is forfeit.’
‘You are Khaleesi now,’ he reminded her. ‘The Khal is a king amongst his own men, and you his queen.’
Dany tried to school her expression. ‘Do not let Viserys hear you calling me a queen. It would awaken the dragon.’
Jorah stretched out his legs before crossing them again. ‘He may be king one day, but that day is not yet come, however much he desires it. He needs Khal Drogo and his men to take back the West, and even then, he must first convince them to cross waters that no Dothraki has ever crossed before.’
‘Perhaps my brother could pay them more gold.’ As she cast her eyes around the room she wondered not only how much, but where Viserys might obtain it from. He had already traded his only valuable asset – his sister.’
‘The Dothraki do not value gold in the same way your brother does, ‘he warned her. ‘They do not covet it for its beauty or wealth. It is a tool with which to trade. With gold they can trade in Vaes Dothrak with the Free Cities traders for weapons and armour – things they could not make themselves but which are of far more value. A bloodrider may wear a belt of gold but only as a show of the prize he has looted from his enemy. He would trade it in a heartbeat for the finest steel arakh or high quality leather for saddling. The gold here will travel with us but it will be exchanged as soon as it can be. A man who cannot source the best steel or armour knows a Khal will greatly appreciate a tribute of gold for what he cannot buy himself.
Dany clutched her book to her chest, surveying the tent full of gifts. She had almost none herself, except for her books and her dragon eggs. She had no gold she could give to her brother who could, in turn, gift it to Khal Drogo. She could only hope that her own value would be enough. She did not think Drogo would renege, but then again, what difference would it make now? Whether Viserys became King or not, Dany would remain here with Drogo’s khalasar, would bring him a son, or many sons, fit to ride with him, and would retire to Vaes Dothrak when her Khal died. There was no going back to Westeros for her, no seeing Dragonstone, or walking the hallways of the Red Keep in King's Landing. She would never be Princess Danaerys of House Targaryen. Be fate was no longer tied to her brother's ascendancy to the throne.
‘I am Khaleesi,’ she said, as if speaking the words out loud for the first time would finally shed all other titles.
‘You are,’ Jorah replied, nodding. ‘Perhaps the greatest there will ever be.’