[1] I Do Not Plan to Die

Chapter 1: I Do Not Plan to Die

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“You’re no king,” Khal Drogo declared in the guttural Common Tongue Daenerys had taught him, his voice echoing through the hall. “Your place is on the ground.”

Hundreds of Dothraki voices erupted in wild laughter, a deafening roar that swallowed the hall whole. Ser Jorah stood beside Viserys, shouting fiercely into his ear, but the clamor was so immense that Dany couldn’t make out a single word. Viserys yelled back, pushing against Jorah until the knight shoved him, knocking him to the ground in one swift motion.

Viserys drew his sword. The bare steel gleamed a vicious red, catching the firelight from the pits. “Keep away from me!” he spat, eyes darting like a cornered animal.

Ser Jorah took a measured step back, and Viserys, wobbling, managed to stagger to his feet, brandishing the sword over his head like a battle standard. The borrowed blade from Magister Illyrio looked almost absurd in his hands, a mockery of the king he fancied himself to be.

The Dothraki shrieked and cursed at him from all sides, their voices laced with venom and disdain. Dany felt a strangled cry tear its way from her throat, her heart racing. She knew, even if Viserys didn’t, that drawing a sword here was a death sentence.

Her cry caught his attention. His head whipped around, and he finally saw her. “There she is,” he sneered, his gaze narrowing as he staggered toward her, slicing at the air as though parting a sea of enemies. No one moved to stop him.

“The blade . . . you must not,” she begged him. “Please, Viserys. It is forbidden. Put down the sword and come share my cushions. There’s drink, food . . . is it the dragon’s eggs you want? You can have them, only throw away the sword.”

“Do as she tells you, fool,” Ser Jorah shouted, “before you get us all killed.”

Viserys only laughed, a broken sound that teetered between madness and despair. “They can’t kill us. They can’t shed blood here in the sacred city . . . but I can.” What he meant by that was soon clear as he laid the point of his sword between Daenerys’s breasts and slid it downward over the curve of her belly. “I want what I came for,” he told her as her breathing stopped.

“Viserys… take the blade away.”

“I want the crown he promised me. He bought you, but he never paid for you. Tell him I want what I bargained for, or I’m taking you back. You and the eggs both. He can keep his bloody foal. I’ll cut the bastard out and leave it for him.”

The sword pricked through the thin silk at her navel. She could see the tears in his eyes, hear the sob that caught in his throat, mingling with a hollow, hysterical laugh. This man, her brother, or what was left of him.

Somewhere behind her, Jhiqui was sobbing, pleading in Dothraki, her words a desperate murmur. Dany wrapped an arm around her, drawing the girl close. “Don’t be afraid,” she murmured. “I shall tell him.”

She gathered what words she could, her tongue stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables. But when Khal Drogo’s eyes met hers, she knew he understood. He stood from the high bench, a towering shadow outlined by firelight.

Viserys recoiled, his face paling as the silence deepened. The only sound in the hall was the soft chiming of the bells in Drogo’s braid with each step he took. His bloodriders flanked him, copper shadows of death. Dany felt an icy calm settle over her as she met her brother’s gaze.

“He says you’ll have a crown,” she told him, her voice steady. “A splendid golden crown that men shall tremble to behold.”

Viswrys grinned, but it stopped midway. In that moment, something shifted in Viserys’ eyes. It seemed like magic to Dany’s eyes, how sharply the change occurred. The drunken haze lifted from his eyes, and for an instant, he seemed lucid, awake with wide eyes—as if for the first time in his life.

What’s going on with him? Daenerys asked herself, her breathing hitched as the sword did not pull back from her belly.

****

My memories returned in the blink of an eye.

What the FUCK is going on?! I screamed in my head, my hand trembling on the hilt of my sword. This- this situation. This is from Game of Thrones, isn’t it? What- who am I?

My memories were clear in my head. Memories carrying the identity of two people. It had been more than two decades since I’d been born here, but for the first time ever, I felt awake. After hearing that single line, ‘a splendid golden crown that men shall tremble to behold,’ my existence seemed to have awakened.

My true memories, not those of Viserys Targaryen—a fucking TV Character—but the ones I carried from Earth, stirred in my head. Was this a fever dream? It… it definitely didn’t feel like one. Everything was too real, my five senses, my mind, and the two sets of memories. It wasn’t a lucid dream that I had become Viserys Targaryen. At least, it didn’t feel like one.

“...Aren’t you going to pull the sword away, Viserys?”

Meaning I was going to die. In a few minutes from now on, this bitch in front of me was going to see me die and do nothing about it. Shit, why am I calling her a bitch? She has all the right to kill Viserys after all he did. It seems living as Viserys for 22 years has created quite some problems in my character.

Regardless, the matter of fact was that I was going to die.

And I didn’t really want to.

I just regained my sense of self after dying on Earth. No way I was going to die again. I had to figure something out. My ears heard the dramatic rush of my adrenaline as I decided on a dumb and risky. But compared to the only other option…

“Crown!” Khal Drogo had roared in the TV Show. “Here. A crown for a King!” And upended the pot over the head of the man that I had now become.

I didn’t want to die, and this was the only possible way away from the Dothraki.

“...Dany, my dear,” I looked into the eyes of my sister, the future Queen of Dragons, as I pushed my sword a bit. She was still a little girl, and I had to use her to escape. “Escort me out of here, will you?”

“What?” Daenerys sounded stupefied as I grabbed her neck from behind and pushed her forward. The Dothraki shouted, but Khal Drogo raised a hand to stop them. He didn’t want to risk the sword that I still pressed against his yet-to-be-born son.

This can be done. I had to be careful, but it was possible. I pushed her out, watching her struggle as she demanded in a sobbing voice why I was acting like this, but I didn’t stop. I pushed her out of the tent we were in, finding ourselves under the open night sky.

“Do not approach!” I shouted, looking around, my sword pointing at her belly. The Dothraki outside gasped as Khal Drogo and his goons walked out from the tent. I stopped myself from swallowing.

I was surrounded by thousands of Dothraki here, and fire lamps burned all around me as if threatening to melt my head. If I failed here, I’d totally be burnt like in the original timeline.

“Bring me a horse!” I demanded, “Bring me a horse, now!”

“Calm down, Prince. I’ll bring you a horse,” Ser Jorah said, turning on his heel and walking away. I counted my breaths, surrounded by Dothrakis who seemed to circle around me. Khal Drogo growled. “Stay away from us,” I said, and a trickle of blood dripped from Daenerys’ belly. “I see what you’re trying to do, and I hate it. Move!”

Khal Drogo raised a hand, and the crowd dispersed, growing distant from us. As the crowd lessened, my eyes caught something that was hidden behind them all this time. There was a stone altar, and three large and scaly eggs rested above it, resting under the fire lamp right above.

The dragon eggs, I walked over with Daenerys by my side as I approached the eggs. As I closed the distance, a hologram-like text floated above it. I blinked. What’s that?

[Collect] [Collect] [Collect]

That looks oddly familiar, I had a feeling what that was. I reached out the hand that was holding Daenerys’ neck, and touched one of the eggs.

Immediately, an arrow came flying!

It passed right through where my hand was a few seconds ago, for the egg had blinked into thin air, and my hand had fallen down. If not for that, my hand would have been ripped apart, and the Dothraki would have jumped me immediately.

“Who the hell fired that?!” I quickly grabbed Daenerys’ neck again, my sword poking her in the chest. Blood trickled down, painting the fabrics over her belly red. “Drogo, kill that fucker who fired that arrow! Otherwise, I’ll kill your baby!”

Drogo growled, and his head snapped to the side. Hidden behind a crowd, there was a Dothraki man who held an arrow. He panicked as Drogo’s eyes locked onto him. Drogo looked to the men beside him and nodded. They moved, weapon at hand, as the blades cut the throat of the archer swiftly.

That should hold back others from firing for a bit, even if little, I breathed in. I wanted the other two Dragon eggs too. But… I didn’t want to risk it again and cost my life. I didn’t even know where the egg was right now. Some kind of [Inventory]?

“I have the horse,” Ser Jorah returned, the sound of hooves hitting the ground as a strong, muscular white horse walked behind him. I breathed in.

“Help me lead the horse out of the village, Ser Jorah. Through the western gate,” I said and snapped my head toward Khal Drogo. “Order all your Dothraki to move to the east. And they better stay there until I’m gone! Otherwise, you guys will lose your next Khal!” I poked my crying sister’s belly again, watching the Dothraki growl in anger all around me.

Khal Drogo clapped his hand, shouting something in his language. All the Dothraki moved, focusing on one side of the village. I scoffed, “Hah. I can sense those hiding, Drogo. Tell them to come out too.”

I looked deep into his eyes, and he clapped his hands again. Dozens of Dothraki moved from behind tents and headed to the east. They growled, shooting me glares of anger.

Ser Jorah sighed and nodded. He led the horse toward the now-empty part of the village, and I followed him with Daenerys in my grasp. I didn’t turn my back to the Dothraki. That’d be suicide. I walked backward, barely following Ser Jorah, as we approached the western part of the village.

“This is foolish, Prince,” Ser Jorah said once we were out of range.

“They were going to kill me, Ser,” I muttered. “I know they were. Why else do you think I became sober in a second? I saw it… in… in the fire.” I intentionally made it sound mystical. That way, Ser Jorah would assume I had gained some magic.

“I am sorry, little Dany,” I told the crying Targaryen Princess who was sobbing with her jaws clenched. “But your stupid husband wants me dead.”

“Because of something you did yourself!”

“Shh, now, if you talk back so loudly I’ll have to knock your teeth out so that the spying Dothraki realize I haven’t grown soft in a minute,” I said, dragging her with me as we soon approached the western part.

It was barren of any people, for all the Dothraki were a few minutes away from here. Still, riding a horse on my own from here would be suicide.

“Get up, sister,” I took out the dagger that Ser Jorah carried on his thigh and pressed it on her belly. A sword would make it harder to climb the horse for me. She grumbled and mounted the horse, and I mounted after her, shouting back, “Don’t shoot any arrow! Because if my body falls, I’ll put my weight on my dagger as I die!”

No arrows came flying.

Ser Jorah sighed from the ground, “They’ll kill you for this.”

“That’s if they ever find me, Ser,” I smiled at him and then pulled the lead rope. The horse neighed, and it blasted forward at a terrible speed.

The night breeze rustled my hair as I kept shouting to warn the Dothraki about their arrows and about their bad decision if they chose to pursue me. My dagged remained pressed on my sister’s belly as the barren desert land passed by us. Although I called it desert, it wasn’t a desert of sand, but grass. The great Dothraki Grass Sea.

Hills passed, covered in tall grass, as did the few actual trees that marked the land. All the while, adrenaline didn’t leave my body for a single second.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours. Until I slowed down beside an oasis, a little pond with some large trees above it. letting out a breath. I withdrew my dagger and mounted off the horse. I patted Dany on her thighs, motioning her to come down.

She stared at me, her eyes dark. “Don’t give me that look, sister,” I shrugged, pulling her down. “I didn’t want to die. You stay here. The oasis has plenty of water to survive the few hours it’d take the Dothraki to arrive. And please, don’t tell them which direction I’ll be going if only to repay me for not kidnapping you and separating you from your dearest husband.”

“You’re a bad man,” she stared at me and said. “You’re a taint on all brothers in the world.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, something flashed before my eyes. It was the hologram of a text message floating smoothly over a fancy box. Like those of game windows.

[Achievement Unlocked. You’ve survived your original death, steering into a plotline that never existed. The tutorial mission ‘Survive’ has been fulfilled.]

[You’ve unlocked full access to ‘The Dragon System’.]

“Ah…” I muttered, blinking at the sight as my lips widened a little. The windows vanished, and I looked at Daenerys. “It seems you’re wrong, my sister. I,” I looked deeply into her eyes, “am a dragon.”

The night embraced me once more as I rode the horse faster than before, leaving behind Daenerys and the cursed Dothraki. Riding toward somewhere far from them both, for one didn’t have to be a genius to know that they all wanted me dead, and they’ll live by that desire if they ever met me again.

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Master4thWall Note: New Story, heya! I hope you liked the start. A lot more fast-paced than the start of my other stories. I'll post the next chapter soon in a few hours, so leave some comments for some algorithm boost!!