Over the years, ViserysΒ had taken people from all walks of life, he had used his titles and wealth, to flaunt it in these lands, even in situations where she had not particularly wanted to. Yet things have changed, his wealth has all but dried up, no more gold, no more family relics to pawn off to fund himself, to keep himself alive, and now, more than ever, his titles seem to be dripping from him, oozing through his fingers, slipping through them and spilling onto the ground and he was unable to pick them back up, the one true king, the prince of dragonstone, all of them mean nothing to so many people, pretender, false heir and the one that has stuck the most onto him, the beggar king, the one that nothing he does, can ever shake it from himself.
It wasnβt fair, none of it was.
He was born for greatness, not to toil in the mud and be forgotten.
The prince had only wanted to retrieve what was his birth right and fulfil his destiny ββ to rule the seven kingdoms. He had been thoughtful enough to make deals, form allies, remain safe and well, out of the reach of his many enemies, but things have changed, his sister --- had surpassed him, had overtaken him, had jumped the line and was daring to call herself, the next in line, when he was right there, the one who had it all, who wanted this more than anything else.
Dirty boots clinked throughout the floors of the dungeons; palms peacefully rested against his side as ocean orbs glared into the furious depths of those who had crossed his sibling and paid the price. As his world was crashing around him, his baby sister, who once, depended on him, and him alone, who once needed him and no one else, now had wealth, had followers, had an army, had dragons, she had everything and he had nothing, as he walked through the dungeons, of those who have crossed his sister in these free cities, and knowing how easily done, it would be for him, to wind up the same, as these poor souls, who serve no purpose in the world she wished to create, a world he did not agree with, as he would have, sided with them.
The masters would have made for powerful allies.
They could fund everything for him, solve all of his issues and woes.
Snap there fingers and they would make him the king he wished to be and not be able to stop him.
There was a calmness in his voice but a defiance in his eyes as unsullied soldiers stood at the walls; their helmets held closely to their waist as pikes pointed to the ceiling in their spare hand. they had been loyal to his sister only, for the very reason that the people of westeros would soon believe in her β¦ and that was because she had freed them from tyrannical rulers of the world, something his sister believed within, breaking chains, let her break a thousand chains, within these endless dunes, and leave him alone, as he removed himself, from here, walking outside, into the endless heat he still loathes, shaking away unsullied soldiers that followed him, at every turn, slipping away.
As he takes himself outside, out of the capital his sister had for herself, walking for what seemed of an age to him, as he sat down on the rock and looked out, knowing, that across that sea, his destiny would await him, but he had no followers, no servants, no army, no fleet, he just had a name, a name that everyone seemed to have forgotten, a name that he knew, could become, the greatest of them all, like those who shared it in the past, who sat upon the iron throne, and he wanted it, all of it for himself, as he hisses, cursing under his sighs, knowing that, without a miracle, it was never going to happen.
