Chapter 18
VISERYS TARGARYEN
Viserys Targaryen was a King. He was the last remaining King of a dynasty that could trace its roots to the Great Empire of Valyria itself. The Targaryens were the last remnants of the glorious Valyrian Empire, and he carried the burden of that legacy on his shoulders.
He was meant for greatness. He was born for it.
The world had once feared them, and it would fear them once more. He would make sure of that. Afterall he was the dragon.
He would remember all those who had belittled him. All those who had wronged him, and once he was back on the throne, he would see them punished, and then they would see him for what he was—a Dragon.
The Usurper and his dogs may have taken over their kingdom through lies, deception, and treachery, but he would soon have it back. The people there already cried for his return. Prayed for the return of their true King, and once his armies were on the shores, he would be welcomed like a true King.
All he needed was an army. One that could allow him to deal with the usurper and his dogs. He had heard that one of them was dead already, and the Lord of the Vale, who had been one of the leaders of the rebellion who had stolen his birthright from him, had died some time ago.
It was a great blow to the Usurper's rule, and soon enough, he would return to the Seven Kingdoms as a King once more.
And this wedding would provide him with the army necessary. It pained him to stand here with these barbaric, horse lords, but the Dothraki were fierce warriors, and an army of these fierce men would cost him nothing but his vapid little sister. It was a disgrace to have the blood of the dragon be sullied by these barbaric horse lords, but it was a price he was willing to pay.
And once he had his kingdom, he would save her from these barbarians and have her for himself, as he was destined to. He was the last of the Targaryens, and it was his duty to keep their bloodline pure.
But first, he must win the throne.
It irked him as he stood there and watched those barbarians disgrace themselves out in the open in the name of celebration. His sister sat beside the horse lord, and the rumors did not quite do justice to the menace of Khal Drogo.
The man was taller than any other man in the room, and his long braid was a testament to his skill as a warrior. They called him the Great Khal, for his was the greatest Khalasar ever, and soon enough it would be his command.
"So tell me, Illyrio, when do we attack the Seven Kingdoms?" and now the wedding was done, and the horse lord had insisted that the ceremony be done in his ways, and as a generous King, he had accepted his request, but his patience grew thinner.
"Soon, your grace," answered the magister, and he was not pleased by those words.
"How soon, I ask? I thought that the deal was simple," he whispered a bit angrily, as memories of an old humiliation resurfaces in his mind. A humiliation suffered at the Hands of those bastards of the Golden Company.
Those cretins had eaten his food and drunk his wine, yet none of them had the courage or the will to go to battle with him. They were all cowards, but what else should he have expected out of men who had once fought alongside those pretenders?
"I give him a bride, and he gives me an army," he reminded the Magister of the terms, and Illyrio nodded.
"Of course, my Prince. The deal will be honored, but there are certain traditions and terms that must be discussed," and he wondered what terms and conditions he spoke.
"Traditions, Terms? I was told nothing of these matters," he questioned, and Illyrio seemed a bit taken aback, as Viserys nodded imperiously.
"Logistics, battle plans, and so forth. But you need not concern yourself with such inconveniences, my King. As your loyal servants, we shall take care of this all," and of course, he would.
"And you will be greatly rewarded for this, once I sit on the Iron Throne," and Illyrio smiled, and he needed him loyal to his cause.
"You are far too generous, your grace," and a servant came and whispered something in the Magister's ear, which made the frown.
"What is it?" Viserys asked, seeing his frown.
"It seems like our belated guest is finally here?" and he could not think of one such guest.
"Who?" Viserys asked, as he looked to the side, and he saw a retinue of twenty riding towards the clearing, and the men he recognised quickly. Their armor and spears made them easy to spot, and he was not the only one to do so.
"Unsullied," Illyrio whispered as he rubbed his forked beard, and the fat magister's eyes narrowed.
"Who is this guest?" Viserys asked once more.
"I believe it is the man I spoke of a moon ago," and Viserys had trouble recalling the specifics.
"The Master of Coin. The one who defected to our side from King Robert's Council," and he finally remembered, and his frown deepened.
"I will not have thieves on my council," Viserys warned, and that was what this man was. A thief.
"He is no true ally of ours," he warned, as the man's retinue entered the field. And it was far larger than it had initially seemed, and there were some thousand soldiers in the group along with several dozen horses.
"I understand your concerns, your grace. But he took a great risk in going against the Usurper, and he comes to us a rich ally," and Illyrio then leaned closer.
"We will need such allies to win the Seven Kingdoms, and once you are on the throne, you can deal with him as you please," and that he would. That he would.
"How rich?"
"They say he stole nearly a million gold dragons from the Crown. Even if he was to escape with half of that, it would make him one of the richest people in Pentosh," and now Viserys was interested, and perhaps there was some wisdom in Illyrio's words.
"He is a thief, and one would be a fool to trust someone like him, but Kings must often make use of such men to turn the circumstances in their favor," and that was wisdom. Wisdom that a King like him should have.
"If he truly is so loyal to me, then he would not mind sharing his wealth with me, would he?" Viserys asked, and as a servant, all his wealth was Viserys's to commandeer.
"Of course not, your grace. One could even argue that he has merely brought back your own money. Afterall, you are the one and true King of the Seven Kingdoms," and that was true, and as King all of the Gold in the King's coffers was his, and so this Baelish had simply brought back to him his own belongings.
"You are right. You are right," and for the first time in his life, he had some agency of his own. Gold that was his and not bartered through favors and promises for the future.
"It is indeed my gold," Viserys reminded himself.
"It would be only natural that he offer it to me as his King," and then perhaps he would consider forgiving his treason.
"Indeed," Illyrio agreed, and the man finally walked to the front of the stage and lowered his head in respect.
"Who is this little vermin? "The Khal questioned, and a woman stood beside the newcomer and translated the Khal's words for him.
"My name, O Great Khal, is Petyr Baelish, and I am but a humble servant who wishes to see the Targaryen dynasty restored to its rightful place on the Iron Throne," and with that, he gave a bow.
"I have spent years trying and building support for your lady wife, and her brother in the Seven Kingdoms but after learning that they had allied with the Greatest Khal ever, I knew that it was time for me to return to their side," but the final decision was still his to make, and Daenerys turned her head towards him, seeking his guidance and permission and only at his nod did she begin to speak.
"Your loyalty is much appreciated, lord Baelish. House Targaryen will not forget your sacrifice," and thief he may be, but Viserys would make use of the man.
"Thank you, my lady. You truly are as generous as your mother, and even more beautiful," he answered with a smile, as he rose up to his full height.
"Still, we were expecting you a bit earlier," and he nodded.
"Indeed, and it pains me to miss your nuptials, but I needed time to arrange suitable gifts for such a momentous occasion," and with that, he called his hands together, and the Unsullied soldiers began to carry out several crates.
"To the Princess, I offer the finest clothes and jewels in all of Essos, and to her lord husband the Great Khal I offer the best castle forged steel made by the smiths of Qarth itself," and that was expensive indeed, but a suitable gift.
Drogo asked to inspect some of the blades, and they were all curved blades just like the ones used by the Dothraki, and Qarth was said to have the finest smiths. Drogo seemed content enough with the gift, and Daenerys appeared like a kid at the sight of all those fancy dresses and jewellery.
"But that is not what delayed me," and now the man reached into his pocket and took out a scroll.
"My delay was caused by this," and this time the servant took the scroll, and walked up to the stage, and tried to hand it to his sister. In the end, the knight beside her stopped the girl and took the scroll in his hands.
"And what is this?" questioned Daenerys.
Viserys himself was interested in the missive as well, and he stepped forward himself until he was just beside the exiled knight who served his sister.
"That letter came from Westeros just this morning. It contains my greatest gift to you on this auspicious occasion," and Daenerys frowned.
"We have no time for your games, you charlatan?" Viserys's patience ended, as he chose to address the man directly.
"Tell me what is in this letter?"
"It came from one of my men in Kingslanding. It contains news about the man who stole your legacy and killed your brother," and he spoke of the Usurper.
"What of him?" and that man beamed.
"The Usurper is no more....."
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