章 6: Viserys II
That night was silent and cold, yet peaceful. Oftentimes, people would not think this was the Dothraki Sea if they were there at that moment. To break the peace, however, was the panting of a drunken boy.
"Fuuckkkkkkkkkk!!!"
Agitated, confused, and tired, it was inevitable that he would fall at some point. And fall, he did. His scuffed boots hit an unnoticed rock, crashing down face first at some dried weeds.
Getting up. Viserys took a look around, "Where in the seven hells am I?" Looking around he sees nothing but dry plains, in short, he was lost.
"This shouldn't happen to me! I am the rightful king! How dare that Usurper send another assassin after me?!" His anger temporarily distracting him from his body's response to the previous hour of continuous escape finally caught up to him now. There in the dead of the night, a King was puking himself, his throat hoarse and his surroundings reeking of vomit. A sight not many but the Lords of King Robert Baratheon see. Sadly, he has passed and a pretender sits on his throne. However, Viserys was not aware of this, still thinking that Baratheon had sent someone to once again kill him and his sister.
However, the deed did not happen, it was the closest experience he had of death, he had continuously escaped all previous attempts at their lives by pure paranoia. Each and every corner, in his eyes, a spy was lurking, an assassin equipped with a dagger was near.
Sobering up through continuous bouts of dry heaving he realized something. He was caught in his most vulnerable position yet, but the damned bastard did not even attempt to cut him down, but only to prevent him from entering the tent. Why?
Laying down on bare dirt ground, he was left with more questions than answers.
'Is he a spy or a supporter? A traitor that chose Dany over him? Impossible!! His claim was more valuable than hers, her claim would only be feasible if they killed him, but they did not. A supporter seemed even more farfetched. What kind of supporter would separate his liege from his army? Or did they think so little of me, that without them, I would die on my own?'
Anger has clouded his thoughts once again, but anger had no place at this time. He was alone for the very first time in his life, truly alone. No one to take care of, no spy or assassin to be worried about, no army, no knight, no one.
Strangely, instead of being scared, he felt at peace, at that moment there was only him, the ground, and the wind. The cool night air hits his face, his hair now visible and interrupting his view. His face scrunching up
'I hate this silver hair, these lilac eyes, it's brought nothing but pain and misery'
'Viserys Targaryen? A king? What a jape! A mummer's farce that I've been convincing myself of for all my life. Forgive me mother, I can't do it, I can't be king! I can't keep my promise, I… I… am ashamed. If I die, perhaps the Stranger will keep me away, so that this unfilial son of yours does not put you into more shame.'
After the silent cries, the tears streaking down his face, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
'I feel guilty, I feel so happy. It's selfish of me, but I want to live as me, not as Viserys Targaryen, the King who was not a king.'
His stomach growled in the silence of the night.
'At this point, I won't even get to live my own life if I die of hunger' But there was nothing but plains in every direction. He would have to get going at some point.
Sigh "Tomorrow, for now, I am too weak," his eyelids closed by themselves. For the first time in his life, Viserys slept without anything to worry about. An exiled prince, dressed in tatters, the beggar king at this moment there was no waking the dragon.
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