which is more important? fire or ice (rp/mindless porn for brideoffire)

[battle_born]

"He is a coward and a fool. Why join our tribe to him if he will never take the throne?"

"Because he is in possession of a sword not yet forged. Through this union, you will claim this sword, and you will achieve the destiny you were born for."

That was his father's reasoning when he was told that he would marry the Targaryen woman, but Conan doubted his father's wisdom. If he saw the girl as a weapon, he was wrong: she was small and meek and useless to him...or so he thought before the ceremony. When he offered the traditional gift of a steed, the way her face came alive, voice catching and gaze reverent...

She was still meek and small, but perhaps not useless.

The celebration was a mad one, and Conan took his fill of drink and food by the fire, his new bride by his side. She did not dance or sing, she ate and drank nearly nothing, and seemed frightened by the few drunken brawls that broke out. She was respectful of his father, and every time her brother drew too near, she edged towards him.

If nothing else, he wondered if he might have the opportunity to kill his brother in law. From the way she reacted to him, it seemed clear that this fallen heir to the throne of the kingdom beyond the ocean was worse than a coward and a fool: he was a brute. Slaying him would be a pleasure.

When they were finally relegated to the marriage bed, Conan ushered her into their tent ahead of him, watching the way she trembled, the way tears gathered at the corners of her eyes though she fought not to shed them. She was afraid, but to his greater shock she was strong.

Conan did not touch her at first. He stood, watching, calculating, then finally moved to stand before her, staring at her bowed head until his hand came up to gently catch her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

"What reason have I given you to fear me?" he asked simply, quietly, waiting patiently for an answer.

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[brideoffire]

For weeks now, all that Daenerys had heard about the man she was marrying and the people that would become her people was how savage they were. Bloodthirsty barbarians, Viserys would spit, making it so clear how little he thought of them, how much he despised them, and yet he was giving her to them. His little sister, his only living family, he was giving her away as if she meant nothing to him. There was no affection and warmth between them, that was true, and he was always so angry, but she still would have thought...she was his only family...

Yet when the time had come, she had gotten married. She had sat by the fire next to her new husband, feeling out of place, sick to her stomach and frightened to the core, wearing a thin silk dress that only made her feel more vulnerable and exposed. Only when her husband had presented her with a stunning mare the color of white morning mists had she felt the weight around her heart lighten the slightest; no one had ever given her something so beautiful and so magical before...

That did not keep her heart from quailing when the time came for her husband to take her to bed. Her brother's threats and warnings rang in her head, Please him, sister. You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?

No, she didn't. She didn't want to incur her brother's anger. She didn't want to anger her husband. She had never wanted any of this, she just wanted to go home...

I am a dragon, she reminded herself. A dragon must be brave. I can be brave. I am brave. I am the blood of the dragon, the dragon does not quake in fear. A dragon is brave. I am the blood of the dragon...

She chanted this rhetoric to herself as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and fought not to shake, as her husband lifted her chin and peered down at her from his intimidating height. "I--you haven't," she managed to reply, her face coloring with embarrassment and shame. Her fear was rooted in her brother's words and warnings; he'd done nothing to earn it, yet she could not shake it.