Angle

In all of creation, there exist many worlds of wonder.

One such world was made by author George R.R. Martin, whose famous book series inspired the hit TV show 'Game of Thrones'.

That show ended, and another show came along. This story takes place in that other show, only everything changed when a lost soul reincarnated there.

Like a fish swimming in the endlessness, you never know when you'll get angled.

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95 AC.

In the gardens of Kings Landing, foreign colours bounced in the southerly breeze. All sorts of fruits, many thought to only grow in places far yonder, ripened with ease.

Here, a Viserys, weak at the knees, sneezed and then wheezed. (A/N: Forgive me. Finished reading some Doctor Seuss and felt cute <3)

"What troubles you, my beloved grandson?" The voice belonged to one like no other. A king of no equal: Jaehaerys I Targaryen.

A tall man in his youth, his stature now arched with grief. But he wouldn't let that stop him.

"Your Grace," said Viserys, who quickly relieved the Kings Guard from his duty of holding his liege's arm for support, "Allow me."

"Thank you, Viserys. These old bones wished for some sun."

They walked through those heavenly gardens, tiered above those streets of make-ends-meat.

Viserys pretended to believe him, "Indeed, I too needed the air."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Sigh…"

They stopped at pillars of arched marble, which acted as the perfect frame for the ocean view, but Viserys was too stressed to enjoy it.

"I'm worried about Aemma," he confessed.

"Your dreams again?" asked the King.

Viserys nodded, "My desire for a son has crippled me so. I hardly kept down my fast today."

King Jaehaerys laughed, breaking free from Viserys and leaning on the marble wall by himself. His seasoned eyes scanned the horizon.

"All of those ships out there are here to trade with our Kingdom. From the Sunset Sea to Asshai, and beyond. Can you believe that?"

Viserys tittered in place, yet he was thankful for the distraction, "I awe every time I ponder it, and much of is thanks to you."

The old King dismissed the flattery, "But I'll tell you this: You could give me Seven Kingdoms and all the silks and gems the world had to offer. I'd trade it all for more time with those I loved."

Viserys saw the mist build in his grandfathers eyes, pools of purple pain.

The King continued, "If you continue worrying like that, you'll end up like this old fool. Wishing he stopped and smelt the roses~"

The wind picked up, and Viserys nearly had time to ponder his grandfathers words. Alas, a courtier came running.

"My Prince, Your Grace," she said, "It's almost time."

Viserys almost lost his balance, but the King caught him and squeezed his forearm.

"Go. You hardly want to be late for the birth of your first child!"

With that, Viserys made haste to Maegor's Holdfast where the royal apartments were situated.

He could hear his wife's screams of labour from down the stairs. And when he placed his hand on the door handle, it was as if her howls vibrated through it.

It was then that fear froze him. He swallowed through dry windpipes. Suddenly Viserys was not so sure. Was all this anxiety over getting a son worth it?

He thought of his wife's flawless face and the advice of his kingly grand sire channelled through him.

'I'd trade it all for more time with those I loved.'

A resolved understanding overcame him, and Viserys realised that right now, he has to be there for his woman.

BOOM!

He swaggered through the lavish doors with confidence, "Aemma."

A weak and sweaty hand managed to raise, "Viserys."

He crouched at her side. The feather bed was drenched in sweat, her forehead hot like rocks at the spa.

"My sweet. How are you holding up?"

Aemma's face eased at the reception of his love and tender care, but only for a moment~

"Ahhhhh!"

"Push, my Lady. Push!"

Aemma pushed and puffed for dear life while Viserys stroked her knotted silver hair. He pushed, too, for some reason. It was lucky Viserys didn't have an accident.

But he couldn't help it. Each second closer to his child's debut agonised his heart with twisted roots. A million things felt like they could go wrong, and only one thing could go right until…

"Wahhh!"

That little voice confirmed its life, and they could finally breathe again.

'Thank the Gods!' Viserys thought. Then his throat tightened, "What is it?"

"It's a girl!" the handmaid decreed, bundling the little treasure in cloth, "A beautiful girl, my Lady!"

Viserys reacted like a cancer patient who told his boss to go fuck himself, only to have his doctor call the next day to say he's been cured. "A girl, how splendid… May I see her?"

Aemma stirred, "I want to see her fir— Ahhh!"

The handmaids got back to battle stations, "Another one?"

"I think another one's coming!"

The screams were louder this time. Aemma felt a burning sensation like no other.

"Breathe, my Lady. You can do it!"

"Push!"

She clutched the sheets for dear life and tried her best to imagine the icy rivers of the north, daring for one last push.

"It's out!"

Usually, that would be something you wanted to hear from your wet nurse, but a crucial ingredient stole the room.

Silence.

"What's wrong?" asked Aemma, as she looked at the Maesters in denial, "Shouldn't he be crying?"

Grand Maester Runciter went about his inspections, "Yes, that is usually the case."

Viserys scrambled his thoughts as he inspected his own.

"It's a boy!" he exclaimed before the news stabbed his stomach.

'No!'

Viserys stared intensely at his son.

"Strange," said the Grand Maester, "Everything seems in order. It's as if he came out sleeping."

"Let me see them," said Aemma, "I want to see my children."

Thankfully she insisted. It's amazing how the room can suddenly forget about the mother when the child is born.

With the twins in her arms and Viserys on the bed next to her, the fresh parents gazed down at their children for the first time together as parents.

The girl didn't stop screaming, not even for a moment. The boy, however, remained in his sleep-like state.

"Hello, my babies," Aemma whispered with love, "I'm your Mama"

"And I'm your father," said Viserys through tears. "And I promise I'll always protect you."

"Twins!" exclaimed Aemma in disbelief. "I can't believe it."

"Did you have any idea that there were..."

Her voice trailed off before magic returned to it, "Two? Hah!"

Viserys laughed with her. "Well, it would explain the appetite."

"Oh, hush, you."

"What shall we name them?" asked Viserys.

Aemma looked at her baby girl. "How about Rhaenyra?"

"A strong name, just like her mother."

"And our son?" asked Aemma.

Viserys paused for a moment to think about his ancestors. "How about Rhaenar? Rhaenar Targaryen, first of his name!"

Aemma liked the sound of that. "Rhaenar and Rhaenyra."

After cleaning up the twins, cutting the umbilical cords, and giving their first breastfeeding (Rhaenar was still asleep. His sister had enough milk for the both of them), they carried the twins to their chambers.

There they opened three hot pots, revealing the dragon eggs they wanted to put in their cradles. Thankfully they had yet to settle on one because otherwise, there would not have been an egg ready for the both of them.

"I think it's only right that Rhaenyra gets the egg we were going to choose. She is the older sister, after all," said Aemma.

Viserys smiled at his wife. "As you say, my sweet."

Aemma gently placed the egg and got to tucking Rhaenyra in. "Be a good husband and choose our son the best one, will you?"

Viserys agreed, and before him were two choices. One egg was golden yellow with sparkly scales. The other was a sinister crimson which seemed to bleed in the light.

Viserys looked at his sleeping son, and once again, worry ached his heart. Would Rhaenar ever wake?

A voice inside him yearned for hope, and one answer became clear. In this situation, he'd be damned if he gave his comatose son the depressing red egg!

"This one," said Viserys, and the golden egg was placed into Rhaenar's cradle like a setting sun.

"I understand your concern, my Prince," said Grand Maester Runciter, "but you both need some rest."

Viserys sighed. "Very well." The new parents took their leave, but before they did, Aemma blew them a kiss.

And like a miracle, a voice cried in the night.

"Wahhh!"

Aemma and Viserys were not three steps away. They burst back inside. "Rhaenar?"

Sure enough, Rhaenar was awake and crying his eyes out. But that's not all.

"My Gods," Viserys gasped.

Aemma covered her mouth. "It can't be!"

Inside the cradle, a golden baby dragon curled by Rhaenar's neck.

All the while, Rhaenar had his first thought.

['Where the hell am I?']