Limerence ||♞|| Viserys Targaryen

x ) Viserys

X : The Blossom Isles

They reached the shore of the Blossom Isles in the afternoon. The sun shones bright and it's light cast down to the ocean surface, creating the shimmering effects on the water.

Viserys dimmed his eyes and covered his face with his palm.

"We are here?" He asked, turning to his sister.

She nodded.

"This is the Blossom Isles, where your bride and you would be married."

The word married and your bride still gave a strange expression to his ears.

He hated to admit it, but he is afraid.

Seems like Dany noticed the look on his face. She leaned in and whispers,

"Trust me, a bride is more frightened than their groom when it comes to the wedding night. I've experienced that feeling."

Viserys' guiltiness ran up his head. He turned his face to her who's standing by his side.

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

He tucked his lips.

"For selling you to Khal Drogo. You are the only family left for me and I should've never do that to you. I'm a bad brother, I know."

Daenerys smiled and tiptoed to tried to hug him. He bent down a little bit so it's more comfortable.

His violet eyes closed, feeling his sister's small fingers rubbing his back through the leather shirt and tunic. He wrapped her body losely.

"If you didn't do that. I might never know what I am capable of. I might never discovered how great I am. And I might never met and hatched my children. So, I must say thank you. Thank you so much, brother."

He felt tears formed in his eyes.

By the Sevens, his sister grown up to be such a great woman.

Their ship stopped at the port where some tall men in their elegant tunic stood.

Viserys walked down with Daenerys, looking around the area to observe the place.

This place is beautiful.

To be frank, this place is more pretty than Pentos.

He felt the warm breeze flows through his silvery thread-like short hair. The fragrant of the blooming flowers are all around, mixing with the salty smell of the ocean.

People are dressed in plain tunics and some old but still good dresses. Men and women are yelling to each other, selling their things.

"Your grace." The man standing in the front bowed.