"There is no need to interfere with my children. I have plans for them," Viserys warned, pointing a finger at Daemon.
Daemon took a deep breath. "Marry Rhaenyra to me. I'll claim her when she takes the crown, no matter what others say!"
"I will cherish her as if my life depended on it and marry her according to the traditions of our family."
Viserys laughed bitterly. "You already have a wife."
"Yet Aegon the Conqueror had several wives," Daemon argued.
With a quick movement, Viserys drew his dragon's horn dagger and pressed it against Daemon's throat. "You are no conqueror. You're a curse sent to torment me."
Unfazed, Daemon met his gaze. "Marry Rhaenyra to me and we'll restore the dragons to their former glory."
"But you don't want my daughter, do you?" Viserys accused.
"It's my throne!"
Viserys, disgusted by his brother's ambition, replied, "I would rather betroth Rhaenyra to Rhaegar, or even both my daughters to him, than allow you to defile them in your quest for power."
Taking up his dagger, Viserys sighed. "Return to the Vale, Daemon. Reconcile with your rightful wife and salvage what honor remains."
"Or abandon tradition altogether. I don't care."
"Just never show your face to me again."
With that, Viserys wiped his dagger clean and walked away, leaving Daemon alone with his shattered ambitions, staring blankly at the ceiling as he muttered, "Not yet, brother. Not yet."
...
Dusk settled outside as Viserys stood alone at his bedroom window, his gaze fixed on the distant coastline.
Like many of his bloodline, Viserys had a fondness for heights, often finding solace in the elevated vantage points from which he could survey his realm.
Alicent approached him with gentle steps and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Daemon is no longer here," she murmured.
"Good riddance. I have no desire to see him again," Viserys replied, his tone tinged with bitterness at the mention of his brother.
"I spoke to Rhaenyra, and she denies any involvement with Daemon," Alicent informed him.
"Of course. Rhaenyra has her brother to protect her from Daemon's nefarious intentions," Viserys noted with a hint of relief.
"Yes, I only wish my children had such a bond," Alicent confessed, her gaze drifting as she unconsciously fidgeted with her fingernails.
Viserys, oblivious to her distraction, continued, "The blood of the Targaryens runs deep, filled with turmoil and unpredictability. Only those wise enough can navigate its complexities."
"Our children must be wise and united," Alicent agreed with a faint smile.
"I am considering betrothing Rhaenyra to Rhaegar," Viserys suddenly declared, turning the conversation to a more pressing matter.
Alicent's eyes flickered as she drew the curtains. "A wise decision. Rhaenyra is outspoken by nature and Rhaegar will surely grow into a man she admires."
"Do you think Rhaenyra doesn't already like Rhaegar?" Viserys probed, his keen intuition sensing Alicent's underlying thoughts.
Alicent hesitated for a moment before answering, "I know Rhaenyra well enough to discern her preferences in men."
"Yes, you do know her. She has always had a penchant for defying her father, unyielding in her convictions," Viserys mused, a hint of bitterness in his smile.
"We must try to communicate with her. After all, whoever Rhaenyra chooses will be a suitable match," Alicent replied, her voice tinged with hope.
"I pray she remembers the weight of her responsibility," Viserys murmured, leading his wife to the table where he poured them both glasses of wine.
As they shared a drink in the dying light of the evening, Alicent lay on her bed, her expression unreadable, pondering the implications of her conversation with Rhaenyra.
...
Half a month later, at the Lion's Gate, shipping officials shouted orders, directing sailors to load crates onto the waiting galleon.
Viserys stood nearby, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the ship flying the three-headed red dragon flag on a black background, anchored in the sea.
"Your Grace, the supplies are ready for departure," Lyonel approached, carrying a final list.
"Understood," Viserys replied with a nod.
Behind him, Alicent led Aegon and Helena, each holding a small baby.
Meanwhile, Rhaenyra and Rhaegar lingered at a nearby fruit stand, selecting fresh produce with smiles on their faces.
Nearly twenty days had passed since Rhaegar's burns had healed, a miraculous recovery that Viserys attributed to the blessings of the Seven Gods.
"Come over here! Our journey is about to begin!" Viserys called, and Rhaegar was the first to eagerly respond.
Their destination: Dragonstone Island, where two young dragons awaited their presence.
The anticipation of having dragons of his own consumed Rhaegar's thoughts day and night, fueling his excitement.
Viserys lovingly ruffled his son's hair and remarked with a smile, "The ship is full of fruit, much finer than what the roadside vendors sell.
"I'm curious to see how the fruits aboard compare to those in the Red Keep."
Rhaegar hesitated, then replied, "I have noticed that the fruits within the Red Keep are more expensive. It seems the roadside fruits are of comparable quality but sold at a lower price."
Viserys' smile faltered momentarily, taken aback by his son's astute observation.
Lyonel cut in smoothly, "The fruits within the Red Keep come from different regions, offering a variety not found in the local fruits."
"Though the tastes may be similar, the difference in price reflects the different clientele they cater to."
Rhaegar murmured quietly, his insight surprising Lyonel.
The prince was indeed exceptionally perceptive, perhaps too much so at times.
In the midst of the conversation, Alicent and Rhaenyra arrived hand in hand, their previous coldness thawing with each step.
Their relationship had been strained since their argument, but Alicent's invitation to a tea party had begun to mend the rift between them.
Any further standoff would have displeased Viserys, the patriarch of the family, so they both took a step forward, easing the tension.
...
Into the night.
Sailboats adorned with intricate dragon carvings glided through the waters of Blackwater Bay on the gentle sea breeze.
Inside the lavishly decorated cabin, Viserys appeared pale and struggled to keep his composure as he clung to a barrel, overcome by seasickness.
Alicent and Rhaegar stood by his side, their expressions filled with concern.
It was ironic that Viserys, who had once tamed the largest and most fearsome dragon in Westeros, Balerion the Black Dread, should now succumb to seasickness.
But despite his discomfort, Viserys was determined to witness his son's attempt to tame a dragon and mend relations with the Velaryon family.
Under other circumstances, he would have chosen the excitement of Imperial hunts and jousting tournaments over the rocking of the waves.
"Father, the Grand Maester sent a special medicine before he left. It may help ease your discomfort," Rhaegar said, holding out a glass vial with concern in his voice.
Viserys examined the vial, then nodded, unscrewed the cap and carefully took the pill. He swallowed it with a sip of water, hoping for relief.
"I've been taking a lot of pills lately. Let's hope this one does the trick," Viserys remarked, his tone tinged with fatigue.
Rhaegar offered another vial from his pocket and suggested, "I also have pills to help you sleep. Would you like to try them?"
Having been bedridden for some time, Rhaegar had been in regular contact with Grand Maester Mellos. Upon learning of Rhaegar's frequent nightmares, the Maester had concocted a sedative. After confirming its safety, Rhaegar had brought it with him.
(Word Count: 1242)