Dance of the Dragons (Three)

King's Landing, Throne Room.

"You make a fair point, but a marriage alliance requires careful consideration."

In the dim hall, Viserys sat upon the Iron Throne, haggling with several members of the Small Council and his bannermen.

"Your Grace, Duke Lyonel of Highgarden is young and promising—a fine match."

The speaker was the ailing old Lyman Bysberry.

Grand Maester Orvel cut in from the side. "By that logic, Earl Lyonel of Oldtown is an excellent match, too."

"That's not the same at all..."

In the flickering candlelight, the lords argued back and forth.

Viserys leaned against the Iron Throne, resting his hand on an armrest carved in the likeness of Vermithor. He closed his eyes, drowsy.

He had not slept a wink in three days.

The lords were fired up, eager to repeat the old practice of his grandfather Jaehaerys, who had married off many of his children to noble families.

But Rhaegar's children would decide for themselves, as brother and sister. How could he, their father, interfere recklessly?

First, he would trick the bannermen into pledging their support. After that, he would simply play deaf and dumb.

As the night wore on, the elderly king quietly fell asleep.

The lords continued arguing, their debate growing more heated by the minute.

After all, who wouldn't want a royal family member through marriage, along with the noble bloodline of the ancient Valyrian Dragonlords?

"Hrnnn... hrnnn..."

Viserys slept soundly, a soft snore escaping him.

Until...

Crack—

A sudden clap of thunder outside shattered the silence, like a silver vase bursting apart.

Viserys jerked awake and mumbled in a daze, "Water... so much water..."

He snapped out of his dream, his chest heaving as his breathing turned ragged.

It had been a nightmare, a dreadful scene that tormented him.

Viserys glanced around and