GoT: LB Chapter 13 (Patreon)

Viserys’ Point of View

A week before their set off date for Lys

I fell to the ground again, my body sore, bruised, and heavy from constant overuse and strikes from practice swords. He looked at me, my most bitter enemy, but also one of the people I could trust the most. He was one of the only people who would tell me the truth, no matter if it would hurt my feelings. I trusted him… But damn did I want to beat in his smug face.

“Is that it, Prince? Is that all your bluster for the throne leads to? How are you going to take back the kingdom with such a weak body?” I stood back up, heavily leaning on my sword and using it as a lever to stand. I held my blade in front of me before taking my stance again as he played with me. I was a child, which meant it didn’t make sense for me to fight a grown man, but the person standing across from me wasn’t a grown man, but a child only a few years older than I.

So why couldn’t I strike him? No, why did it feel like he was playing with me more than fighting me. He slapped the blade out of my hand effortlessly as he handed me a cup of water. “Here, let’s take a break.” “How do you do it, Alexander? How are you so strong?” I took a sip before he explained. “Because I’ve been training as hard as the training I’ve put you through for years, that’s why.”

We sat, staring at the training ground as I spoke out loud my true thoughts. “Maybe… Maybe it would be better for the Targaryens to disappear… Maybe I shouldn’t be king.” He laughed at my seriousness, and I was about to attack him before he spoke his thought. “No, you definitely shouldn’t be king, but the Targaryens need to exist. A Targaryen will be the one to stop the long night… Maybe that’s your true purpose. Not becoming king, but slaying the Night King.”

I felt it for the first time. He had been leading me to this answer ever since he began training me years ago. It all made so much more sense. Becoming king was a trap; it would lock me down from doing what I actually wanted. Every day I left these training grounds beaten and broken, I knew one thing for sure. “I don’t think so… I don’t think my destiny is to accomplish either thing… I just want to protect my family. To protect mother and Daeny.” 

He sat waiting in silence for a few more moments before he answered. “Then that’s your answer. Grow strong enough to protect those close to you.” 

…

Gregor Clegane wasn’t busy. Although he was a big, strong man, he knew he still needed to train, and that was what he was doing. Swinging a sword almost as big as himself, he tore through several straw men. It just didn’t feel the same to him. It didn’t have that satisfying feeling of his blade cleaving through flesh. It made him start to crave that feeling again.

He scratched himself as he sat down for a beverage break. Grabbing the pitcher of ale, set aside since before he began training, he greedily drank. Little did he know that something was waiting for him to take his helmet off. A hawk swooped down and cawked to draw his attention up to it before dropping a package of powder into his eyes.

Searing, intense pain racked his body immediately as his eyes began to rapidly dry and almost boil in his head from the sneak attack. If Gregor didn’t have ale in his hand and didn’t dump it to flush his eyes immediately, he’d have gone blind. But even still, his vision would never be the same.

…

Euron Greyjoy felt it, his connection to magic, his connection to blood magic, grow stronger by the day, ever since… Well, it didn’t need to be said. All he knew was he couldn’t trust the one-eyed man who spoke to him in dreams anymore. What he said was a trap, and he felt it. Now that he was growing more powerful, he could feel the threads of fate attempting to guide him into becoming something he was not.

He left his brother's room, the marks left behind on him still visible on his naked body as he did so. The smirk of satisfaction couldn’t be hidden. He drunkenly stumbled his way into a storm as he revelled in the feeling. Before he could find another person, another victim, possibly a serving wench no one would miss if she went missing, he stopped when he saw it.

Sat nearby was a hawk with a note and a vial attached to its leg. He walked over, trying to spook the bird, but it made no indication that it cared for his appearance. The entire situation had him questioning what was really going on, as the bird was smarter than it should be… But he could tell it wasn’t the one-eyed man. That connection left a permanent attachment between the two; it made it impossible for the raven to ever influence Euron ever again, even while it strengthened him.

He untied the small vial and note from the bird, which only read ‘drink this’. He scoffed, thinking of tossing it aside, but at the same time, his curiosity made him want to feed it to a potential victim to see what would happen. A much smaller part of him actually wanted to drink it; the entire situation was weird enough to keep his mind thinking.

It couldn’t be poison, who would be stupid enough to think this would work? Euron was never one to overthink things. So while it would be the poorest assassination attempt ever, what were the chances that it was poison rather than ale or some other liquid? He downed it in one go and moved toward the town… Before, he felt a burning in his stomach that worked its way through his whole body.

He coughed, feeling liquid come out of his mouth, which he caught in his hand. As he looked at it, he saw it was blood from his body breaking down into the liquid. The last thing he could think of was… ‘Oh, it was poison.’

…

I laughed like a maniac when my plan worked. Who would have thought Euron would fall for such an obvious trap? Well, I did. He was a psychopath, more than likely thought he was invincible, and that even if it was poison, it wouldn’t kill him. He was one of the only wildcards I wanted off the table before I left the continent. I was cleaning house and taking out or weakening the threats to my future rule right now. While I still could, because after we left, it might be years before I returned.

Euron was dead, Gregore most likely blinded, and Viserys no longer wanted to be king. I turned back to finish the discussion I was having with Doran and Elia. “Sorry about that, I had to poison a squid. So, where was I? Oh yes, the betrothal to Princess Rhaenys when I make a play for the throne.”