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Game of Thrones: StormBorn

Arthur Baratheon, the young son of Stannis Baratheon, carries himself with a maturity far beyond his years, reflecting the stern, duty-driven nature of his father. As Stannis prepares for war against the Ironborn, Arthur observes the weight of his father's responsibilities, understanding that duty often comes at the cost of personal connection. Despite the emotional distance between them, Arthur seeks to fulfill his role as both son and heir, guiding Stannis to visit his infant sister, Shireen. The brief interaction reveals the coldness between Stannis and his wife, Selyse, and the emotional toll of leadership. In a rare moment of tenderness, Stannis holds Shireen, allowing Arthur to glimpse a side of his father that is rarely shown. Through Arthur’s stoic perspective, the narrative delves into the burdens of duty, the complexities of family, and the quiet resolve required to carry them. ———————————————————- Author:Charlezany Title:Son of Man(Nis)

MichaWT · TV
Not enough ratings
128 Chs

Cherazza 10

287AC

The months continued to roll by in Yunkai, and the yellow city carried on as always, a pillar of debauchery, wealth, and trade, and as they came and went, her Dragon grew as well. Not only was he learning swordplay, but he was also growing physically. No longer constrained by a lack of Nutrition, Viserys grew up like a beansprout, even growing taller than her only a year after they had first met in that humid stone cell.

It was a happy time for the pair, or at least she thought so, for even with her Viserys kept his feelings close to his chest. She knew he loved her and that was enough, and they only grew closer as the days passed, him rushing to accommodate her every need or want, and she trying her heart out to do the same for what few wants he was willing to express. Oh, how she desperately wanted to take him into her bed, but since she could not do that until he asked her himself, she instead had his bed moved into her chambers.

Many nights she lay awake, even after he had gotten to sleep, just staring at the boy.

However, despite all of her efforts, it seemed that the world was ill content to leave her dragon to grow and recover from his torment, as it seemed the fates themselves had conspired to torture him more.

It was nine and a half months after the festival of the harpy when the Wise Master Maloza Zo Zheenga announced that she had given birth to, and was legitimizing, a bastard of Viserys Targaryen.

Cherazza's blood had boiled at the news, and only her father's stern warnings had prevented her from immediately hiring assassin's to force feed that militant whore the tears of Lys. The very idea that someone had taken something so precious from Viserys, taken it when he had not had the will or ability to fight back himself. Taken something that by all rights would someday be hers and hers alone to bear?

She had screamed, and torn at her hair until Viserys had asked her what was wrong.

He did not know.

He did not know and she could not tell him that that harlot had stolen from him a son, the fruit of his loins in the hands of a devil. For what if he wished to care for the boy when he was beyond his reach, he might be lured into Maloza's arms, ensnared by honeyed words.

She had been unable to tell him, though she knew it was a betrayal.

In recompense, she had redoubled her efforts to please him, to give him respite when he was weary, and love when he was weeping, and to play the flute for him as often as she could, and to dress him in her finery.

But Maloza, oh, Maloza, thrice-cursed whore for a legion of men. She had the gall, the nerve to parade about the streets with her child by Viserys, a boy of silver hair and her own brown eyes. She had seen them walk the very street before her father's pyramid as if taunting them, trying to charm Viserys away from her, the baby clutched to her chest like bait for a fish, her young daughter following beside her along with a troop of her legion of near-naked soldiers.

Cherazza wished that her pyramid would crumble and fall into the bay, taking her and all those of her house with her, but alas no such miracle occurred, and Maloza continued to taunt her many days as she waited for Viserys training to end. She heard the child's name from her father. Aegon, in imitation of the first of Viserys line.

How cruel, how despicable. She swore to herself that she would see the house of Zheenga fall within her lifetime.

"Mistress, you are gripping my hand harder than normal, is something the matter?" She felt herself snap from her reverie at Viserys question. She was sitting with him in the garden which circled the highest level of the pyramid, flush with properly pruned shrubbery and flowers, she took him here to relax after dinner on days where he was particularly beaten up from his training, though nowadays that was less common, and instead she found herself here with him in order to relieve her own tensions.

She made an effort to smile as she turned to her dragon. "No Viserys, nothing that you cannot solve just by being here with me."

"I had not intended to leave Mistress." He said, and there was a quirk to the corner of his mouth. A sign of humor, something that only she got to see, and something which brought a smile to her face every time she saw it. She lay down, using the boy's lap as a pillow. Which he guided her into with his hands, for she often did so.

"No, you have to stay with me forever Viserys." She said, feeling his hands run through her hair, fixing her jewelry. "Someday you'll be ready, and we'll be free, and we'll be married."

"I do not need to be free mistress, I will be yours either way."

She turned her head to stare up into his big purple eyes above her head, reaching up and touching his chin with her hand. "You do need freedom Viserys." She said letting her care seep into her voice.

"Even if you don't realize it yet."