Dragon's flame

Viserys's POV

Aelyx and Daenerys finally made their entrance into the royal booth, stepping gracefully into view alongside Rhaenyra. As I glanced at Aelyx, I found myself unable to decipher anything from the depths of his gaze. His eyes—those strange, pupil-less voids—held nothing but silence. Daenerys, however, carried herself with the same indifference she always did, her bored expression revealing an air of superiority, as if she were above the spectacle unfolding before her. Rhaenyra, too, wore her usual stoic mask, seemingly untouched by the frivolities of the day.

"Do you need someone to tell you what's happening on the field?" Alicent's voice, always poised and concerned with decorum, broke the momentary silence.

My ever dutiful wife, ever the embodiment of careful speech.

"No need. I will recite everything in the arena to Aelyx," Daenerys replied, her tone composed but firm. It was as if their connection was an unspoken understanding. The bond they shared seemed so effortless, so natural. At times, I wondered if they didn't communicate through more than words.

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Aelyx's POV

"Queen Alicent is seated beside King Viserys, holding an infant, while a maid feeds cake to a two-year-old child," Danny's voice filled my mind, calm and precise.

I etched the details into my memory—Aegon, the usurper,the two year old child seated nearby, Then, Queen Alicent, ever the picture of poise, and lastly, Aera Targaryen, the newborn who should never have existed in this timeline.

"The bloodshed has begun," Danny's voice reverberated in my thoughts, signaling the beginning of yet another bloodbath in the name of entertainment.

In a strange way, I found myself grateful for my blindness. While others were trapped in the chaos of sights and sounds, I could focus purely on the shifting emotions, the subtle movements in the air that told a story beyond sight.

"When will this nonsense end?" Danny's irritation crept through her thoughts, a sharp contrast to the gleaming spectacle before us.

"I don't know… I find these tourneys tiresome. Just fools parading their skills, pretending their mastery over the sword will grant them favor with their enemies," I replied, my voice laced with a weary indifference. The bloodshed held no thrill for me; it was an endless cycle of cruelty dressed as sport.

At that moment, a voice interrupted our thoughts.

"I would like to ask for the favor of Princess Daenerys," a knight called out, his request cutting through the air with an air of entitlement.

Suddenly, I felt it—a rush of pure, uncontrollable rage. Was it jealousy? Could it be… that I was in love with Danny? The thought flickered like a dangerous ember in my mind, sparking a storm of emotions I had never anticipated.

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Danny's POV

I had been speaking with Aelyx when the knight's voice shattered the calm between us. His request for my favor felt intrusive, arrogant. As I looked toward Aelyx, for the first time, I sensed something I had never felt before: raw, unfiltered anger. The intensity of it stunned me, and a small, almost involuntary smile tugged at my lips.

"No… You may not," I said, my voice carrying the weight of finality. I wouldn't let any other man claim what was already mine—my favor, my loyalty. In this life, there was only one person who held that honor.

The knight's expression faltered, darkening as he processed my refusal. Then, in his frustration, he made a grave mistake.

"Then I ask for the favor of the Queen," he declared, his defiance louder now, almost a challenge.

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Aelyx's POV

I could feel the absurdity of the knight's request ripple through the air. First, he dared to ask a five-year-old girl for her favor, and then, he turned his insolence to the Queen. What a fool. He clearly had a death wish.

Alicent's response was nonchalant, almost dismissive, as she granted him her favor after a brief, silent exchange of glances with King Viserys. They communicated without words, their bond far more powerful than any spoken agreement.

"The fool is dead. Killed by a Baratheon bastard, no less. In one bout," Danny's voice echoed in my mind, amusement laced in her thoughts.

As expected. No one could withstand the fury of a Baratheon, least of all one so reckless as that knight.

"Ser Baratheon Waters vs. Harrous Nuyer," the announcer called, his voice booming across the field.

"Harrous?!" King Viserys asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"A man from Volantis, Your Grace," Ser Arryk Cargyll answered.

"Harrous has defeated the Baratheon bastard," Danny replied, her voice steady and knowing.

I felt a weight on me—a gaze, cold and assessing. It came from the ground, from Harrous, and I could sense the heat of his stare, though I could not see it.

"Harrous is looking at you," Danny said, her voice tight with apprehension.

I couldn't tell if it was lust or something more sinister, but there was a strange intensity to his gaze. Anger, regret, maybe even fear—it was a cocktail of emotions too complex to decipher fully.

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Aelyx's POV (Cont'd)

The tourney eventually ended, and Ser Criston Cole emerged victorious. The crowds erupted in applause, but I felt no satisfaction from the spectacle. The bloodshed, the showmanship—none of it interested me.

"Tomorrow, there will be a second hunt in the Kingswood. All the lords of the realm are invited," King Viserys announced, his voice ceremonious and detached.

Danny and I made our way back to our chambers. The day had been long, and we were both exhausted from the intensity of the capital. Without a word, I leaped onto the bed beside her. Driftmark seemed like a distant memory in this crowded, suffocating place.

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King's Chambers, King's Landing

"Your Grace," Lyonel, the new Hand of the King, entered the room, his expression grave. Otto Hightower had been dismissed earlier that morning, much to Viserys's apparent relief.

"What is it, Lyonel?" Viserys asked, his voice thick with fatigue, though there was an edge of curiosity beneath it.

"Harrous insists on meeting with you," Lyonel replied, his voice low with hesitation.

"Harrous?" Viserys asked, his frown deepening. "The fighter from Volantis today?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Lyonel confirmed. "He claims to know the reason for Prince Aelyx's blindness."

Viserys's posture stiffened as he rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Send him in," he ordered, his tone cold, like a blade drawn from its scabbard.

Harrous stepped forward, his gait cautious yet respectful.

"Your Grace, it's an honor to meet you," Harrous said, bowing low.

Viserys, however, cut him off before he could speak further.

"Get to the point," Viserys commanded. "My son's blindness—what of it? If this is a joke or a trick, I assure you, your head will roll."

Harrous hesitated, then spoke with unwavering seriousness, his voice laced with caution.

"Your Grace, if a person is born blind, their pupils are either dilated or defective. But Prince Aelyx has no pupils at all. Such a condition is only possible due to a poison—one crafted specifically to cause blindness in offspring without harming the mother."

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Alicent's POV

I watched Aelyx from across the room, my thoughts swirling in confusion. How could he walk with such precision, such confidence, if he were truly blind? His every step seemed calculated, as if he could see the world in ways that defied reason. It unsettled me, yet it also intrigued me. His bond with Daenerys was even more puzzling. The two of them had grown so close, as if they shared some unspoken language between them.

I couldn't ignore the growing tension in my heart. There was something different about Daenerys too. She moved with a air of superiority like she knew what was to come

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