A flash of silver. A stab of white hot searing pain. Daenerys looked down to her torso, her hand coming away red. Red with her own blood. She dragged her gaze away from her own death to see her own brother, Viserys, standing before her with the sword. The sword that had cut her own flesh. "Why?" she wanted to ask as she narrowed her eyes at him, her gaze already becoming foggy. While she completely loathed her brother, she had never once made a move against him. Nothing like he was doing now. And then she heard their cries. Her beloved dragons. Servants were carrying them away from her in their cages as they screamed in protest. She reached her bloodied hand out towards them as she collapsed on the floor, but it was no use. They were gone. Her vision slowly faded to black as she heard the ringing of laughter from Viserys' mouth.
Daenerys' eyes opened slowly to greet the morning sun. Her rapid breathing was slowing, her heart rate returning to normal once more. It was a dream she had often enough, so much so that it hardly affected her anymore. She knew her brother's feelings towards her dragons. He didn't understand why they weren't his, and she figured it was only a matter of time until he attempted to make them his own. She didn't want to make a stand against Viserys, but when that day came, she would have no choice. She couldn't let her three dragons, who would one day be the ultimate source of power in Westeros, fall into the hands of her sadistic brother. It was the reason she kept her dragons in her room, guarded by what remained of her khalasar. They were the only people she could trust, especially in this city of liars and backstabbers.
She rose from her bed, heading out to the balcony that jutted out from her bedroom. She didn't know how long she stood outside, watching the sun steadily rise in the sky. She thought of many things. Her future, mostly. What was going to happen to her with Viserys being the King of the Seven Kingdoms. He mad many people willing to do his bidding, any of them could come to her in the middle of the night. And Viserys wouldn't even have to be suspected. Sometimes she wished she had been born a man, perhaps then things would have gone differently for her. Women weren't typically taken seriously as leaders, although she had been very well liked among Khal Drogo's khalasar. She had become a Khaleesi, and the Dothraki had heeded her word. Yet these people of Westeros were nothing like the Dothraki. They stood in awe before her, but only because of her dragons, not her actual self.
Dany thought of Viserys. He had sold her to Khal Drogo to get his army, but now that he was on the throne, would he ever give her up? Could she expect to be able to be married again, to have children? To make a life that she could be happy with? She doubted it. Viserys would keep her until his dying day, she assumed. She knew he wished to approach the topic of a wife today, and she feared his words. The Targaryens had married siblings for generations, and she had a feeling that was one of his ideas. She didn't think she could bear that decision.
A soft knock came on her door, and she turned at the noise. Irri, one of her Dothraki handmaidens, rushed to answer the door. A servant girl stood at the door, looking nervous and somewhat shaken. "The king is calling for you, my lady," she said, eyes darting around the room, not meeting Dany's once. "A-and he asks that you look nice, he wants the council to be impressed." She sighed, entering the room and closing the balcony doors behind her. "Very well, tell him I will arrive shortly." She let her handmaids prep her accordingly, pulling the top half of her hair back in an elaborate braid, hanging down over the bottom half falling in waves to the middle of her back. They put her in a simple but beautiful white silk dress. The fabric fell and showed off her womanly curves, the top meeting a neck piece that made it somewhat of a halter. She looked in the mirror and nodded, figuring Viserys would be pleased.
She made her way out of her room and towards the dining hall, where Viserys would be having breakfast. Upon entering, she gave him a slight bow. "Your Grace," she said dryly with no emotion, standing up straight once more and taking a seat close, but not beside her brother. She grabbed a few pieces of fruit and toast, eating silently. After a moment, she spoke. "When will the council arrive?"