A night in Braavos

After days of nonstop flight, the distinctive outline of the Braavosi islands finally came into view. Viserys guided Blackflame toward a desolate, reef-strewn coast northeast of Braavos.

He had Blackflame hide in a cave near the shore to rest and wait, then changed into the plain clothes he had prepared in advance. With a little disguise, he set off for Braavos on foot.

After traveling for some time, he finally caught sight of the city. With his extraordinary agility and Skinchanger abilities to familiarize himself with the terrain, Viserys easily slipped past the guards and mingled with the passing crowds.

Braavos was as bustling and prosperous as ever, as though time had stood still here. Unnoticed, he passed through the noisy markets toward the Targaryen stronghold at Ragpicker's Wharf.

Rather than enter through the main gate, he circled around to a relatively secluded stretch of wall behind the stronghold. With a running leap, he caught the top of the wall, vaulted silently over it, and landed beside a pile of discarded scraps in the courtyard.

Everything inside the stronghold was as usual. Soldiers trained and patrolled, yet the air carried the oppressive anxiety peculiar to exiles. Moving like a ghost, Viserys made his way straight to the room where Ser Willem Darry handled his affairs.

He knocked softly on the door.

Ser Willem, who had been bent over his desk reviewing accounts, looked up. Ordinarily, no one would disturb him at this hour. When he opened the door and saw the familiar figure, his whole body jolted, and he could scarcely believe his eyes.

"Your Grace? How did you..." Ser Willem lowered his voice, unable to conceal his shock.

"Let's talk inside." Viserys ushered him into the room.

Once the door was closed, Ser Willem dropped to one knee. "Your Grace, you have returned safely. The Seven have truly blessed us. Ser Arthur and the others..."

"They are safe as well, carrying out another mission." Viserys helped him up and gave him a concise account of his journey to Valyria, the existence of King Ghidorah and the Black Dragon, Blackflame, and his plan to rebuild the New Valyrian Empire.

Though he had been somewhat prepared, Ser Willem was still left speechless by this succession of astonishing revelations, especially the prophecy concerning the Three-Headed Dragon King and the coming restoration of Valyria's environment.

"So we need to move our core there, but this place must remain as it is, serving as a front for the outside world," Viserys concluded. "Ser Willem, I want you to stay here and oversee everything.

"Continue trading as usual, and deal with the probing of the Sealord and the various factions. Make it look as though we are still trapped in Braavos. You can also 'complain' a little about our tight finances and bleak prospects, and even let some of the less steadfast people 'leave in disappointment' to make it more convincing."

Ser Willem drew a deep breath, suppressed the emotions surging within him, and nodded firmly. "I understand, Your Grace. Mislead the outside world and buy time. I will take care of everything here."

"Good," Viserys said approvingly. "For now, secretly notify Daenerys, Rhaenys, Lady Ashara, and Ser Jon Darry. I want to see them. Let no one else notice. At the same time, begin discreetly vetting our people. Select the five hundred most loyal, along with their immediate families: warriors, craftsmen, and others willing to leave Braavos for a 'new place, perhaps a difficult one, but full of hope' to rebuild their homes. Prepare five sturdy ships as well, and secretly stockpile supplies for daily life."

"Five hundred people, five ships... What is our deadline, Your Grace?" Ser Willem quickly settled into his task.

"I will give you one month to prepare," Viserys said. "On the night of the new moon a month from now, the first group will board the ships and sail out of Braavosi waters. I will meet you at sea and escort you to Valyria. After that, we will arrange further groups at intervals as circumstances allow, but the first must be capable and trustworthy."

"Understood." A keen light shone in Ser Willem's eyes, one that had long been absent. This was more than obedience to an order; it was the exhilaration of seeing a promising future.

The meetings that followed were conducted in absolute secrecy.

Ser Jon Darry was overcome with excitement at the sight of Viserys. When he learned that Viserys had not only returned safely but also acquired dragons and an opportunity to rebuild their homeland, the loyal old knight knelt once more and swore his allegiance. He promised to do everything in his power to protect the princesses on their journey to their new home.

In Ashara's room.

When Viserys lowered his hood, revealing a weathered yet more resolute face, Ashara's pale violet eyes misted over. Without many words, she hurried forward and embraced him tightly. All the worry of their separation and the flutter of their reunion lay within that silent embrace.

"I'm back," Viserys whispered in her ear. He briefly told her about Valyria. "That will be our new beginning. I want you by my side, Ashara."

Ashara raised her head and looked at him with eyes both firm and tender. "Wherever you go from now on, Viserys, I will follow."

Viserys gazed at the exquisite face so close to his. Those violet eyes, usually touched with a faint melancholy, now held only his reflection.

He did not answer. He merely lowered his head a little and kissed her lips.

At first, it was a gentle, tentative touch.

Ashara's body stiffened for an instant, then softened. Viserys felt the slight coolness of her lips and her inexperienced response.

The kiss was not fierce, but it lingered and deepened.

When their lips parted, both their breaths had lost their rhythm. Ashara's cheeks were flushed, and Viserys gently brushed his thumb over her slightly swollen lips.

"Ashara..." His voice was husky, yet seemed to carry a burning question.

She did not answer. She simply reached out, caught the front of his clothes, and gently tugged him backward.

It was a silent invitation, firmer than any words.

Their warmth mingled in the darkness. The initial awkwardness and slight pain gradually gave way to a shared rhythm under tender patience and guidance.

When the final wave swept over them, Viserys gathered her sweat-damp body into his arms.

After it was over, Ashara tiredly buried her face against his chest and fell into a deep sleep.

Viserys pulled a blanket over them both, settled the woman in his arms into a comfortable sleeping position, and drifted off as well.

The next day, no one was more delighted by the surprise than Daenerys and Rhaenys.

To protect them, Ser Willem had not told them in advance that Viserys had returned.

When Viserys suddenly appeared in the little garden where they were playing, seven-year-old Daenerys froze for a moment, then burst into tears. She raced over like a little rabbit, clung tightly to his waist, and buried her tear-streaked face against him, sobbing, "Brother, you're finally back. I missed you so much."

Rhaenys was more reserved, but her eyes reddened too. She walked over and took Viserys's hand. "Brother, it's so good to have you back."

Smiling, Viserys crouched down and gathered both girls into his arms. He soothed them softly and promised that he would never be gone for so long again.

When his gaze met Ashara's nearby, her cheeks seemed to take on a faint blush at the memory of the night before. Warmth filled Viserys's heart, and his smile grew gentler.