'You are not Loved'

Hello, Drinor here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of Dance of The Dragonwolf.

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Chapter 47 (Rhaenyra's Rage), Chapter 48 (Spread your Wings), Chapter 49 (A Falling Dragon), Chapter 50 (Even Eyes Can Lie), Chapter 51 (A Crying Dragon), Chapter 52 (Tears of a Dragon), Chapter 53 (I Wish We Had More Time), Chapter 54 (The Bitter Harvest), Chapter 55 (Red Vipers, White Lies), Chapter 56 (Purple Eyes, Dark Crown), Chapter 57 (Learning to Dance with Storms), Chapter 58 (A Sister's Oath), Chapter 59 (Flames of Grief), Chapter 60 (Blood of the Dragon, Heart of the Sun), Chapter 61 (Lust and Dragons), Chapter 62 (Between Lives and Deaths), Chapter 63 (Fire Beneath the Faith), and Chapter 64 (Ghost of the Man I Was) are already available for Patrons.

Viserys

'How are you feeling, Aemma?' Viserys asked with concern as he opened the door. There she lay on the white bed, lying on her stomach with her legs spread, a big belly, her face sweating, as she looked at him, her head resting in a mountain of pillows.

"I will feel better after SHE is outside. My mother always told me that her births were always easy." Her wife said painfully, gripping the mattress; she opened her mouth, letting out a silent scream; the wet nurses ran around, holding buckets and new sheets.

Viserys really wished not to be here. He would much rather wait outside until their boy was born, but his father had told him that he should be there for the birth of his first child. He had done the same for them all and told him to do the same, but it sounded like an order.

Viserys was never one to like the sight of blood and the screams of people. He still remembered Balerion's last days in this world. Who knew a dragon of his size could look as defenseless as he did in his last week?

"Our son will be born soon, Aemma," Viserys reassured her, reaching down to grasp her hand, which was sticking out of the bed frame. Her fingers curled around his hand, and he winced slightly. For a moment, he was sure she would break his hand, but thankfully, she stopped, and his hand was saved.

Aemma laughed painfully before turning her head to look at his eyes. "It's a girl, Viserys." She reminded him.

"How do you know? My mother said the same thing when she had Daemon, and look at him now." Viserys said playfully, earning a giggle from Aemma.

"I just know, Viserys. This one here." She reached down with her other hand, caressing her belly. "This one is a girl, and remember our bet." She said before biting into her lip until blood trailed down her jaw.

Viserys hated seeing her in so much pain, and he did remember their bet. "You will see, this one is a boy, and I will name him Aegon."

"Gods be good, another Aegon. I think our House lacks imagination on names. How many Aegons do we need in our family?" Aemma asked playfully, trying her hardest to ignore the pain. But when she looked back at Viserys, he wasn't laughing with her. Longing in his eyes, he looked mournful.

"Viserys?" She fretted.

"Aegon was the name my second brother would have had. He died shortly after my mother." Viserys explained grievously, and Aemma felt a pang in her heart, feeling shame for making fun of the name.

"I'm sorry love. I didn't mean—" "Not your fault, Aemma...and you are right, name Aegon is a bit overused, but it's a powerful name." Viserys said, the sollen expression washing away, and instead, he looked playfully again.

"That's true, but I still believe this one is a girl." Aemma said before letting out a scream of pain that echoed in the chamber.

Viserys looked away from her, but he remained rotted in his place. Her screams reminded him too much of his Muna, and he would rather go somewhere else, hide somewhere until it was over, but he repeated the words his father told him.

' "This happens only once in our short life, the birth of our first child. If you are not there to see it. You will regret it for the rest of your life." Viserys mumbled under his breath, and despite the shiver in his body every time Aemma screamed, he remained there and waited.

After nine hours of suffering and listening to Aemma scream. Only then their first child was born.

"Your grace, it's a daughter. Congratulation." The Maester smiled as the wet nurses wrapped the little girl in blankets. Viserys watched as they brought their girl to Aemma for her to look at her. Her face was pale, and she seemed as if she had been sick for months, her eyes looking exhausted, but as she peered, her eyelids opened when their daughter was brought to her. Aemma's face lightened up, and all the exhaustion faded instantly.

"Hey, my beautiful daughter." She choked on her words as she let out a happy sob, softly kissing the red cheeks of her daughter, who was crying.

"She's perfect," Viserys said as he looked at her from up close. His heart swelled in joy as they brought his daughter to his arms. The baby girl stopped crying and was only whimpering softly. How can something so small and tiny look so precious? Viserys smiled wholeheartedly at his daughter.

"What is her name, Aemma?" Viserys asked, looking back at his wife. But the smile was gone, and her eyes were cold and dead. They looked back at him, two dark pools of nothingness.

No...Viserys begged, backing away. Not again, he mumbled and looked down at his daughter, but he was holding bones wrapped in a blanket, a little skull resting on his hand.

"Why Viserys?" He looked back at the bed, and the white mattress had turned red, droplets of blood dripping down from every corner; a pool of blood slowly formed around the bed, and Aemma lay on her back, a big red smile on her belly, her eyes looking at him the same way they did when he ordered them to cut her open—a look of betrayal.

"Why Viserys?"

"Aemma...Please...I didn't mean..." Viserys whimpered weakly as the pool of blood now flooded the entire square room, and its level only rose, reaching his knees.

"You. Betrayed. Your. Family. I HATE YOU..." '

"NOOOO!!" Viserys screamed into the night, letting out a loud gasp as he lifted his head from the pillow and threw away the blanket.

He looked around frantically in fear, his heart almost bursting out of his chest, but he recognized his chamber and the curtains around his balcony.

"Your grace. Are you alright?" He heard a knock on the door, and he quickly closed the lapels of his night clothes as he slid out of the bed, his feet touching the smooth carpet.

"...I'm fine," Viserys shouted back at the KingsGuard as he walked across the chamber, looking around the dark corners, almost expecting to see someone.

"Just a bad dream," He mumbled under his breath as he grabbed the pitcher on the table and poured wine into a glass before looking back at the door, knowing the KingsGuard was still there.

"Tell Alicent to come here," Viserys ordered as he drank the wine before pouring himself another one.

After five minutes of waiting, the door opened, and Alicent walked inside. She closed the door behind her and looked at her King, sitting on the bed's wooden frame.

"Your grace." She said sweetly, with a quiet voice, barely audible.

Viserys looked at her keenly; for a moment, he looked at her as if he couldn't recognize her. "Aem—Alicent, come here." Alicent forced a smile for the hundredth time today; her cheeks had started to hurt from how much she needed to smile.

"Do you want a cup of green tea?" The King asked with an uneasy smile.

"I prefer strawberry milked water, your grace." Alicent said, and the King's smile wavered a little, but he quickly hid it with a smile.

Viserys ordered for a servant to bring them the drinks, and he walked over to his huge Valyria model.

Alicent watched him silently, wondering why her King always wanted her to drink Green Tea and why she needed to correct him.

One Week Later

Viserys felt like he needed a vacation, another small council, and he felt sick hearing the same complaint over and over again. He could only thank the gods that his grandmother had decided to stay and help him with his problems.

Two months had passed since his daughter left him, and Viserys was sure she would return soon after realizing her mistake. She would return back to him, back to her family, but this waiting was starting to get long, and from the news he was hearing, he wasn't really sure anymore if she would return on her own.

"Your grace, from the reports we got from Dragonstone. Prince Daemon, Prince Aenar, and Lord Corlys tend to fight the Triarchy." Otto explained with a grim look, but Viserys didn't see the problem. He wondered who was the one giving Otto information from Dragonstone.

"You won't find me shedding tears for pirates, Otto. They ambushed and attacked Lord Corlys' ships, if he wants to get back at them, then I see no reason for the Crown to interfere, let him do his war. We can interfere only if they need our help." Viserys said airly, not caring about the Triarchy. As long as his daughter wasn't involved in this whole mess, then Lord Corlys was free to do whatever he wanted; as long as his actions didn't put Westeros at war with anyone, Viserys didn't need a war; that was the last thing Westeros needed.

"I think we, as the Crown, should support Lord Corlys and House Velayron. They are still our allies, and Rhaenys is our blood. We should send them a hundred ships for support." Queen Alysanne said from her seat with a blank voice. Viserys could never tell what his grandmother was thinking, and since Aenar left. Viserys was sure she didn't like him much anymore.

"I understand your grace, but when they left the capital. They took half of the gold cloaks with them. The soldiers who should guard this city are now in the hands of Prince Daemon and Prince Aenar. We are lucky that at least half of them decided to stay in the city and protect it. Otherwise, it would have taken months until this city can be considered safe again. I say the five hundred gold cloaks that accompanied them to Dragonstone are more than enough to aid them in their little war." Otto interjected with a calm voice, puffing his chest slightly.

Viserys secretly hoped this wouldn't turn into another case of the two going back and forth.

"I understand your concern, Lord Hightower, and I assure you the Crown is already working on hiring new people to fill the space left behind by my grandson and my great-grandson. We have already hired around two hundred soldiers within two months. I'm sure this city will be safe once again soon. But to a more pressing matter. Lord Clorys is loyal to the Crown and has asked for our aid. We should send them help and make it clear to the Triarchy that Westeros is united." She prompted, looking away from Otto and back at Viserys, who averted his eyes.

If he sent ships, that would mean that his daughter could think of involving herself in this ugly war; not only that but sending ships could mean a declaration of war against the Free Cities. Viserys bit his lower lip. No, his grandfather had called for the Council of 101 for this reason, to avoid a war from breaking out. He would continue that legacy no matter what. Westeros shouldn't go to War.

What kind of successor would I be if I plunged the Seven Kingdoms into a meaningless war? Viserys thought, coming to the same conclusion: as much as he wished to mend the bond between him and his grandmother, he wouldn't go to war. That could never happen.

"The Crown doesn't see this conflict as big enough for us to interfere, Grandmother. As King. I should look after the realm and make sure War is avoided at all costs." Viserys answered reluctantly, feeling ashamed, but to his surprise, his grandmother seemed completely fine with his decision.

"I understand your grace. The Crown should keep the peace." Queen Alysanne mused before clearing her throat again and turning to face the Maester of Law.

"Is there anything we should know from the city?" the man's face turned a little pale, and Viserys cursed under his breath. What now? He wondered, feeling as if the Crown would crush him.

"Your grace. Since the rumors of the Red Lady have spread, people have gotten a little relentless. I have received unsettling reports from the city. I think there is a group of people in the city. They are worshipping a new god, my King. We are not sure yet where they are, and my soldiers are trying to find them. But they always return empty handed." Viserys felt the headache growing, but he wouldn't allow this new religion to grow. He didn't want problems with the Seven.

While true that The Seven didn't agree with everything House Targaryen did, they allowed their brother/sister marriages, and that's all they needed from them. They needed to keep their blood pure to mount dragons in the future, and Viserys believed their House and the Seven had a good relationship since the day his grandfather made peace with them.

"I want these people to be found. I will not tolerate this in my city. The Red Lady. I want her found and sharply questioned. I want to know who send here, and why." Viserys ordered with a booming voice, looking at the Maester of Law, who quickly nodded.

"Your grace, while I agree the Red Lady should be punished for spreading her religion in King's Landing. I think we should take a different approach, try to appear friendly and catch her off guard. We need to remember this group of people might decide to fight for her, and appearing friendly might be a better approach." Alysanne suggested, and Viserys was relieved once again that she was here with him. He trusted Otto but knew she was smarter than the two of them combined.

"You heard, Queen Alysanne. Tell the Gold Cloaks to hold their steel unless absolutely necessary." Viserys ordered with a genuine smile, but it seemed the gods had no mercy for him today.

"Your grace, there's something else we need to discuss, and I believe this might be the most important one." Queen Alysanne said, sounding grim, reading a scroll before placing it on the table.

"What can be so important?"

"The Common Fountains your grace." They all looked at her strangely, like she spoke a different language. "Prince Aenar made these fountains throughout King's Landing to please the common people. After all, who doesn't want free water? The people they all idolized Prince Aenar for what he had done, but I'm afraid since he left the city. The guards who used to take care of them and make sure they were cleaned are not doing their job, and the supplies coming into King's Landing are not as much as they used to be. Many commoners are demanding to know where Prince Aenar is. There are rumors, of course, but they want the truth. I think it would be better to hire people to clean the water, to please them and calm them down before it blows up in our face." Queen Alysanne explained with a blank voice, as always.

Viserys cursed under his breath. He had forgotten about the bloody fountains, but now that he thought about it, he had gotten reports that the supplies they were receiving weren't as much as they used to be. As if someone was hiding the supplies somewhere for a reason, but Viserys quickly snuffled such thoughts; a single person couldn't hold the supplies for a city as big as King's Landing.

"Prince Aenar should have thought of them before leaving, he abandoned his people, and we have no reason to waste expenses on something that gives us nothing back—your grace. You should make a public statement and tell the common people that Prince Aenar and Prince Daemon had abandoned King's Landing to start a war that didn't need starting in the first place.

"I'm not sure that's wise, your grace. People of King's Landing love Prince Aenar. If the King tells them that, it might result in them getting even more angry with the Crown. We need to be careful with what we say, we don't need violent revolts in our city." Queen Alysanne countered before Viserys could utter a single word.

"Your grace, you should not take the blame for something someone else does. Prince Aenar—" "Enough." Viserys shouted with a booming voice. Looking at Otto, who fell silent, he quickly leaned back against the chair and turned to look at his grandmother, who closed her mouth.

"I will tell them that Prince Aenar is fighting a war for Westeros, and that he will return soon. Let's hope his return will calm them down." Viserys declared, and no one said anything.

"As for the common fountains. I want them cleaned, and to be working. I won't have my people starve in my city." Viserys ordered; his Lord Hand seemed like he wanted to argue, but a single look from Viserys and he fell silent.

One Week Later

"They should be here at any moment now." Viserys mumbled under his breath as he paced around the chamber, waiting for one of the Kingsguards to inform him that his daughter's ship was seen sailing towards King's Landing.

Since his daughter left King's Landing, Viserys had been expecting her return, hoping and praying she would return back to him, but after two weeks passed. He realized that she wouldn't return on her own, at least not yet, so he started sending letters to Dragonstone, hoping they would change her mind and convince her to return back, but he never received a raven from her. He often asked the Maester if he got any letters from Dragonstone at least ten times a day, but he never had anything for him.

Last week, Viserys received the good news that Alicent was pregnant, and everyone in The Red Keep and King's Landing was in high spirits. Even Queen Alysanne congratulated the Young Queen and wished her good fortunes for the future.

Viserys had announced that a feast would be held eight days later and had wasted no time sending the good news to his daughter. He was certain that she would sail back to King's Landing after receiving the good news that she would have a sibling after eight months. But the time passed, and she had yet to return.

Viserys had made sure to write to Aenar and his brother, too, to inform them of the good news, but he got no replies from either of them and at this point, he was starting to get worried.

Three hours later, Viserys was still in his chamber waiting for their return, but there was no sign of them. He stood up and shuffled towards the balcony, lifting up the curtains and passing the window threshold.

With his arms resting on the railings. He looked at the vast King's Landing below him. He looked up at the sky, waiting for one of them to appear, but all he saw was clouds.

Suddenly, the door opened, and he quickly turned around, pushing away the curtains as he passed the balcony's threshold, and stepped into the chamber. The one who had opened the door was one of his Kingsguards. Ser Arryk. Or was it Ser Erryk?

"Did they arrive?" Viserys asked hopefully, with a ghost of a smile on his face, feeling hope for the first time, but the man shook his head, shattering whatever hope he had left.

"I'm really sorry, your grace, but there has been no sign of dragons or ships. I came here to inform you the feast has already started, and the Queen wants to attend." the man informed him, and Visery's head hunged down. He was almost tempted to tell Alicent to go alone. But he quickly reminded himself how it would look if the King wasn't present for the Feast prepared for the Queen's pregnancy.

With a deep sigh, he looked back up at the man. "I'm coming."

The walk to the Main Hall felt like a dream to him. He couldn't remember taking Alicent's arm, the walk, or the way everyone stood up to applaud him when the door opened, and they walked inside. What he did remember were the three empty seats to his left: Daemon's Seat, Rhaenyra's Seat, and Aenar's Seat.

They were empty.

Viserys exchanged pleasantries with everyone who came to congratulate them, but he wasted no time filling the glass with wine. The sweetness of the red wine made him forget, and since he was King, he decided to just stand there and swim in his thoughts.

His fingers curled around the cup when a pain shot through him from his hand. He winced from the pain; he looked down at his right hand; the leather glove was hiding it, but the pain was still there.

'I think it would be better to amputate the index finger your grace. The infection hasn't spread yet, and it would be better if we act faster, and save the other four fingers before the infection spreads on the bone of your hand.'

your grace

Viserys remembered his words, and as much as he wished to keep all his fingers, he knew having four fingers was better than having none.

Your grace

Viserys wondered what his daughter was doing right now. Was she safe? He was sure she was safe; Daemon would never let anyone touch her. Despite their differences, he knew he could rely on him for the protection of his family.

Your Grace

Viserys swallowed thickly, wondering what his father would have thought of him right now.

While Viserys never explicitly asked him, he remembered Daemon telling him their father had refused the advances of Viserra Targaryen two years after their mother's death. Aunt Viserra was said to have been the most beautiful daughter of Jaehaerys and Alysanne Targaryen; some even said that she was the most beautiful woman who ever existed. Viserys wasn't sure how true the latter was, but he wondered if his father would approve of his decision to marry Alicent. Aemma was gone, and he didn't want to feel alone anymore. She was good company. Was it really that bad if he didn't want to feel alone? Viserys knew she wouldn't fill the hole Aemma left behind, but...

"Your Grace!!"

Viserys flinched, his eyes blinking. He looked up to see Otto looking at him with concern and noticed everyone at the high table looking at him.

"What?"

"My lord husband, are you alright? Do you need to rest?" Aemma asked him with concern, her hand resting on his shoulder.

Viserys wanted to say, ' Why are you calling me Lord Husband? ' When he realized, Viserys felt as if a bucket of cold water was thrown on his face, and he was woken up in this cruel reality.

"I'm fine," Viserys said slowly, and from their faces, he knew no one believed him. "Continue with the feast," he ordered, and everyone returned to the feast.

As the feast continued, Viserys noticed his grandmother drinking green tea.

Aemma always loved green tea, he thought, once again, swimming in the pool of his thoughts.

Tomorrow

"My King. Two kilograms from my treasury were stolen. It must be the pesants..." The man went on and on about his stolen goods, and Viserys had nothing else to do but listen to him blame the commoners for what happened to him. Ultimately, Viserys promised him the Gold Cloaks would find out who stole the gold.

The next person approached. This one was no Lord in King's Landing. Wearing racks and the smell, Viserys knew this one must be a commoner. Many lords and ladies of the court wrinkled their noses at the sight of this man. Viserys showed no sign of disgust. This man didn't wear like that because he wanted to.

"What can I do for you?" Viserys's booming voice echoed in the Throne Room, and the man looked up at him, broken and sad.

"My King. I wanted to ask about Prince Aenar." The man started, and this caused many to start talking with one another. Viserys almost rolled his eyes. Suddenly, they all were curious to hear more.

"What about my nephew?"

"Prince Aenar has helped us all from the Flee Bottom. He used to give us food, and even paid so our children can be healed, but for two months now. We have seen no sight of him, while we understand he is a busy Prince. His dragon is gone too. We always knew to look at the wall for Cannibal to know that our Prince was still amongst us. Still in the City. But there has been no sight of them for two months now. Where is our dear Prince, your grace? When will he return to us?"

Viserys could feel the eyes of everyone on him; his fingers grasped the armrests of the throne, and he winced when the blade cut into his flesh. "What is your name, good man?"

"Miche, my King."

"Miche. Prince Aenar is not in King's Landing, he has left the city, and is fighting in the Step Stones."

"Step Stones? I don't know what that is, my King, but if he is fighting, surely you are sending help to your nephew." King Viserys felt as if someone had just slapped him in the face. He averted his eyes, and silence fell in the Throne Room.

The more Viserys waited to answer, the more the anger grew in the Throne Room. "You are not helping him aren't you?" Miche said as if accusing him.

"Watch your tongue. Guards take him outside." Otto ordered, and the gold cloaks quickly grabbed the man by his wrists and started dragging him away, with Viserys looking down at his feet.

"You will never be like him, King Viserys. He is loved, the people of King's Landing love him. Not You." The door shut, and the man's words could no longer be heard. Viserys held his head down, and Otto climbed the stairs, almost reaching the final step.

"Do you want his tongue for speaking like that, your grace?" Otto offered with a hushed tone.

'The Heir.'

'The Heir of The Iron Throne!'

'Long Live the King.'

'To Baelon Targaryen, the Heir for A Day.'

"Aemma and Baelon are dead. They already decided that my son wasn't worth it before he was even born. They want your son because he is so Perfect."

Viserys wanted to say yes. People like him had decided that his son wasn't worth it, that Aenar was worth far more than his son. He knew they did not mourn Baelon's death; no, Viserys knew they all had celebrated. So, he should answer in kind. He should have this man's tongue for daring to speak like that.

Why shouldn't I? I'm the King of the Seven Kingdoms. I decide who is worth it... Viserys thought, ready to see 'Yes'

'But does she need you, Viserys?' The King's mouth closed, remembering his grandmother's words that day after she left.

'You forced her to make a choice, and she made the choice on her own. When Saera left, I was heartbroken, but eventually, I realized that she would never return back to us. On his deathbed, Jae told me that Saera had his permission to return to us. I sent a letter to her and waited for her return, but she never came, and she never will, because she does not need us anymore. It's been nine years since I send that letter. I will never see her again, but you can still see her again. If you want to see your daughter again, then you know what you have to do.'

"...NO. Let him go." Viserys answered slowly. Otto arched an eyebrow before walking down the stairs of the throne.

Viserys regained a little of his composure and kept doing his job as King.

After three more hours of sitting in the uncomfortable chair that was the Iron Throne, the next person to walk before him was someone he had never expected.

"Your Grace, it's good to see you in good health. My congratulations on Queen Alicent's pregnancy." The High Priest of The Seven spoke before him, and many bowed their heads when he walked past them.

"High Priest. I wasn't informed that you would come here today. What can the Crown do for you? Whatever it is, you can expect help from us." Viserys said with a welcoming voice, earning a round of applause from the lords and ladies of the court.

"I'm happy to hear such kind words from you, your grace, but I would appreciate it if we could talk in private with you and Lord Otto," the high priest requested.

Viserys wondered why Otto was needed, but he knew he could trust him, so with a clap of his hands, the lords and ladies walked out of the door, and once the double door was closed. Viserys stood up from his seat and walked downstairs until he was on the same level as the High Priest. He didn't want him to feel insulted. The Crown and The Faith were equally important.

"Your Highness, what can I do for you?" Viserys asked.

"I wish I wouldn't have to come here, your grace. I wish wouldn't have to bother you with the problems of the Faith."

"Nonsense, your Highness. The Faith can always expect help from the Crown. We are all more than willing to help you, so just be clear, and tell me what you need. I can assure you that it will be done." Viserys interrupted him with a friendly smile. The old man smiled back before clearing his throat.

"Your words are appreciated, your grace. As you might have heard. The Seven is in danger, we are not sure yet by who, but we have heard and holy brothers have reported to me that they have seen a Red Lady in King's Landing, spreading her lies to the poor and defendless people of this city, promising them fortune and cure, only to steal everything from them."

"I assure you the Crown is working on catching this woman, and bring her to justice."

"I don't doubt that your grace, but last night. Three Holy Brothers were found dead in the street, and words written with their blood 'Rats of the Seven.'" The High Priest said with disgust and anger.

Viserys fumed from his nose, knowing this turned into a bigger problem. The moment lives were lost, it was no longer a simple conflict but a bigger conflict that he needed to deal with as soon as possible. "I'm really sorry to hear that, Your Highness. I will make sure one hundred gold cloaks patrol the city at all times. We will catch them. I assure you." Viserys said reassuringly, with a troubled look.

"I have no doubt, your grace that YOU will catch them. I have trust on the gold cloaks, but the deaths of three holy brothers has spread fear on the rest. They are afraid of walking outside. They need better protection."

Viserys drew in a sharp breath; his throat felt dry as he looked at the old man. "What are you proposing?"

"Let us army the holy brothers, your grace. They will feel much safer, and can do a better job."

"I believe, the High Priest speaks with reason, your grace." Otto spoke before Viserys could even think about it; he turned his head a little, arching an eyebrow at his Hand.

"My grandfather made a deal with the Faith. They would never be armed again, and I tend to not change that." Viserys reminded Otto.

"I understand you want to respect the decision of King Jaehaerys, he was the best of us. May his soul rest in peace. But times have changed your grace. Right now, the holy brothers, my children are not safe anymore. I know in my heart that King Jaehaerys would have agreed to this decision, to protect the city and his people. He was the first to give the common people in Westeros more rights. I believe he would have agreed if he was here right now. He would want them safe, your grace."

Viserys took a deep breath. He could see the logic in his words, and it was true. His grandfather had worked hard to ensure that the common people were treated more fairly and had more rights. For this reason, the people of King's Landing still love him to this day. His birthday was still celebrated, after all.

'You will never be like him, King Viserys. He is loved, the people of King's Landing love him. Not You.' Viserys remembered the words of the man. He knew he wasn't as loved as Aenar. If he was, the people of this city would have mourned for his son instead of celebrating.

Will they...will they love me more if I armed the Seven? They would be much safer from the Red Lady, Viserys thought, coming to a decision.

"...Very well. I will allow it." Viserys said, and the High Priest smiled in gratitude.

"You won't regret this, your grace. The Crown and The Faith should always be allies. Never enemies."

Yet, despite the beautiful words he was hearing, Viserys felt like he made the wrong decision.

Tomorrow

Once again, another small meeting. Viserys was hardly paying attention. Instead, he glanced at his grandmother. She had refused his company last night when he had invited her to dine with him and Alicent. And today was no different; she acted like he didn't even exist. Viserys wondered if he should ask the others to leave so he could have a private conversation with her. He knew in his bones that she didn't approve of his decision to arm the Seven. But all thoughts were thrown away when Otto addressed him.

"Your grace. I have received news that concern Princess Rhaenyra." This made Viserys straighten himself and turn his whole attention on him.

"Is she alright? Was she harmed?" Viserys asked, his voice cracking.

"She's fine...for now your grace. But I have received news that she has decided to fight the Triarchy with Prince Aenar and Prince Daemon."

No, Viserys thought, he would never let the last piece of Aemma disappear. Before he knew it, he was back on his feet. It was time to do what he should have done months ago.

"I'm sailing to Dragonstone. Right Now." Viserys announced to the small council.

Almost three months of waiting. It was about time he talked with her again.

Sara Stark

"How are you feeling, sweety?" her mother asked as she sat down, sitting right next to her brother. Cregan scowled at her face, grabbing the plate with food; he jumped off his seat and walked away.

"Cregan, don't be like that with your sister." She heard her mother chastise him as he stopped and turned to look at her.

"Then tell her to accept the dragon egg. The poor thing will freeze; soon there won't be a dragon left to crawl out of that egg if she keeps ignoring it." Cregan said accusingly, looking at her with anger.

Sara felt her eyes burn. She didn't want to see her brother look at her with so much anger; it was entirely new for her. He always secretly adored her, even if he tried to hide it behind his snarky attitude, but this time, he wasn't hiding anything.

'Please, Your Grace. Believe me. I didn't know it was Poisoned.'

"No. Send that egg back to King's Landing. I don't want anything to do with it," Sara said in a final voice.

Cregan looked at her with betrayal in his eyes, and she wanted to run up to him to hug him; she didn't want him to look at her that way.

"I can't believe you. You dragon killer. You are heartless. I cannot belive you are my sister!!" Cregan shouted angrily before throwing away the plate with food; the plate shattered, and random hounds quickly picked up the food as Cregan stormed out of the Main Hall.

Sara felt hot tears run down her cheeks, but she had already decided. She wanted no dragon. She knew her brother would get angry with her, but she was certain he would get over it when his dragon was born.

It was better this way, she told herself.

After breaking her fast with her family, Sara went to the only place she knew she could be alone for a long while.

Opening the Weirwood Door. She felt a gentle breeze flew past her, her hair flowing with the wind. Her hand touched the Weirwood Door; the door hadn't been changed or decorated since it was put there. Eight thousand years ago, yet the door didn't show any sign of decaying or anything. It looked as beautiful as the day it was made; two direwolves howling at the moon were decorated in the door. Symbolizing that it was a place for House Stark.

Her eyes found the only light source in the deep darkness before her. Grabbing the still burning lantern, she walked forward with heavy steps, the darkness illuminated by the light. Many were afraid of the dark of the crypts, but not Sara. The Kings of Winter didn't mind her presence. They were always welcoming and never told her to leave. She knew this place better than Winterfell itself. She knew things no one knew, not even her father.

King Artorias Stark had a secret place behind his statue. She had found a strange dagger there but knew not to take it for herself.

'Taking from the dead is one of the biggest sins one could do.' Her father had told her when they had found her sleeping in the crypts when she had been four name days. She knew she was safe here, even from Cregan; despite being braver than her in everything else, Cregan stayed away from the Crypts as if they were the plague. She knew not why, and Cregan refused to tell her.

At the end of the stairs were the statues of Whitehowl and Moonlight. The oldest direwolves of House Stark. Their statues didn't do justice to their size; no book or Maester talked about them anymore, and their memories were lost with time, but people in the North often spoke of their size, some saying they were the sizes of horses. King Stark had mounted his Direwolf to battle in full Armour.

Walking forward, she felt the cold on her bones. She passed through the Kings of Winter. She could hear them talking to her, their words in the wind.

'Deeper, deeper, Sara Stark. Deeper,'

And she walked further deeper. When her leg tripped over something, and the lantern fell from her hand, the darkness engulfed the crypts, but she wasn't afraid.

"Owww!" Sara rubbed her forehead, feeling a warm liquid running down her forehead. When she heard a footstep...

"Who is there? Father, are you here?" she shouted frantically, her eyes snapping at the direction she had come from. She shielded her eyes as a lantern hovered above the ground five feet away from her, almost blinding her as it got closer. As she moved her hand away, the one holding the lantern wasn't someone she had seen before.

"Who are you?" Sara asked warily, standing up and backing away from him.

"I'm sorry to frighten you, dear child. Please forgive me." The man said with a warm smile.

Sara didn't know why, but she felt she could trust him, yet a strange sense of recognition hit her. She was certain that she had seen this man before.

"...Do I know you?" She asked, leaning her face just a little closer to get a better look at his face.

"We have met once, dear child, and as for who I am. I'm just a kind Old Man."

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