บท 7: Viserys III - Cactus Water
"Ughhhh, this is unacceptable."
Viserys kept limping in the same direction. It's been many days since he last saw people, even the savages.
"Why is it so empty?"
Dried weeds, sand, dirt, and even the occasional fruitless tree are about the only things he's seen throughout his time walking. Well, at first it was running, hoping to find a settlement as quickly as possible. But his body refused to listen to his commands
There was that one time that he saw a cactus, using what little strength he had left, he cracked it open using his shortsword. Cactus water spilled out, as he tried his best to keep the rest of it contained somehow without pricking himself with its pins. It was juicy and had a funny taste. But it kept him going so he kept drinking until there was none left
But after that one event, with energy running out, and food and water scarce, he kept walking… and walking… and walking. Hours turned into days, and days turned into who the fuck knows, he hasn't had the mind to count anymore, last time he checked it was four days. At this rate, he'll die in just about three or four more days.
"I refuse to accept this! I won't just die like this! I!,,,"
The words ever familiar to him 'I am a king' almost rolled through his tongue again, like a reflex action. "I need to get used to not saying it," he sighed. "I know who I am, I am no king."
Putting those thoughts aside he kept walking, but he never really could get his mind off of Westeros, the Iron Throne, his family, and his home. 'It's been days, but I think that cactus water did something to me,' he thought passively.
"Fucking cactus water!!"
—------------3 days later —-------------
His vision becomes even blurrier by the second. He couldn't tell what was in front of him anymore. And hallucinations frequently visit his view these days. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes bloodshot, he was an emaciated figure. You would ever hardly think this was the same man, if not for his silver hair and lilac eyes, which still glow brighter than ever.
"You're not real!! You're dead!! Get away from my sight!!"
An image of his brother Rhaegar appears in front of him, seemingly affronted by his choice of words.
"Brother, I know you hold no such love for me, but I needn't be said that I am dead when I'm in front of you." The image of Rhaegar says.
"Stop, I'm sick of this! First mother, and now you? You weren't even present for most of my life! Go away, I have no desire to take your Throne. The Iron Throne belongs to the Baratheons now."
"We Targaryens have a sacred duty to the realm. We built the Iron Throne for that very purpose. There must always be a Targaryen that sits on the throne, and you're my brother, the throne should pass on to you."
"We are not brothers," Viserys says in a whisper, his voice slowly returning to normal with each word, not turning loud, but with anger present.
"We are"
"No, we are not. We may both have the same mother and father. But you are not my brother. You never were."
"You were Rhaegar Targaryen, "The Last Dragon", the silver prince that was to save Westeros. And I…" His words locked in his throat, he could not find the words to say at that moment.
"You are Viserys Targaryen, son of Rhaella and Aerys II Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne, King of the Seven Kingdoms… My brother." Rhaegar said affectionately.
"I am no Targaryen.."
"I have no need of a Throne to make me happy. I have no need of a brother who wasn't there. No need for a place that would happily kill me."
"We all could've lived together without all of this happening. But you! You, the silver prince ruined everything! You had a wife, but you were never content... no, your grace's greed knows no bounds. Your ego must have been inflated by the lords of the realm that you found the need to have a second!"
"Do you fashion yourself to be the next Aegon the Conqueror? Perhaps you've forgotten that dragons no longer fly in our time. Did kidnapping the Stark bitch prove to be worth it at the end when Robert Baratheon sunk his Warhammer into your chest? Or were you so full of yourself that you think the Lords would allow you to do as you please as if you were the Conqueror himself!?"
"..."
"And finally, did you ever regret it? Doing these nonsensical actions caused our family to break, both mother and father dead, Dany and I escaping would-be assassins, your wife and children raped and massacred. Do you regret it?"
"I don't, I have made my decision"
"What am I even doing? I'm talking to nobody, you are nobody. And I've made my decision as well dear 'brother'. Westeros be damned, I am not going back."
"Viserys, you may not understand now but know that I did all this for our family. It may look like madness at first, but it's what was needed. To bring the realm together under any circumstances. Winter is coming, I don't know when, but it is near."
"Did you tell your wife that before going off on your sacred mission to hump the Stark girl? Enough with the nonsense. Also, it is you who doesn't understand, you never did understand anyone but yourself."
Viserys takes his sword from his scabbard. With the last of his strength, he slashed at Rhaegar, his swing sharp and true, unlike his poor emaciated state, "Get the fuck out of my way, I'm hungry."
The image of Rhaegar disappears as the cool night air once again passes through.
"Fucking cactus water..."
Anger dissipating, strength and energy drained, with just three steps, Viserys fell forward and passed out once again.
Green, Purple, Ice, Fire, Black, and Gold. Scales as black as night, a mighty figure hulks above a mountain, ash, soot, and ruins of ancient buildings surrounding it. A roar so strong, that a figure in ancient myths would tremble. And on its foot, two crowns are present. One of gold and one of thorns.
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