A DANCE WITH GHOSTS » VISERYS TARGARYEN

CHAPTER ONE

VISERYS
THE FLOWER

UPON A BALCONY STANDS A man that should be the king.

White hair and purple eyes define his features among the rest here in the city Pentos of Essos. Across the narrow sea and upon the Iron Throne of Westeros is where he should find himself, not here, stuck in the ancient city with people who don't care for his homeland. The house of Magister Illyrio Mopatis had been a place to call home for half a year and the magister was hospitable for the future king of Westeros and his little sister, but Viserys only wanted to take back what was his. The task seemed so simple. It should be, given his legitimate claim to the throne. Though, such kidnapped dreams are often times the hardest to find again.

Viserys Targaryen, third of his name, drums his fingers against the stone railing, the metallic clanging of his rings drown in the cries and shouts of the city below. He has no place among them: he is higher than they could ever dream to be. And this is why they sneer at him so. They're all jealous of his rightful claim, how the kingdoms across the sea pray for Targaryen rule. Such praise would never graze them. Viserys knew they would come to fear him once he sits upon the throne of swords. All seven kingdoms and the rest of the world would bow before him on quivering knees, too afraid to speak, lest fight the Targaryen family again. They would love to hate him and hate to love him. Their prayers would be answered in time, but there is nothing that can stop the wrath of a king who was stolen of his rights.

No one wishes to wake the dragon.

Viserys slyly smiles to himself, creating the list of men who will soon meet his fiery touch. If only he could spread wings like the beast of the Targaryen House sigil, cross the sea himself and cast fire upon those who dare send him the wrong glance.

Unrested dreams of violence and conquering cities squander Viserys' mind, plaguing him with visions of success. He is triumphant despite being so far from obtaining an ounce of gold. Perhaps this is what drives him. To prove them all wrong, to finally have a place to call home, and to be the Dragon King—

From the street just under his home, a sweet song interrupts all thoughts and conversations. It catches everyone's attention, including the man on the balcony; it always does. Even the impatient and cynical Viserys can appreciate a blissful song and voice. However, it appears that the girl would purposely choose to begin when Viserys was having a moment for himself. Despite how he wishes to simply ignore the girl, it was proven impossible long ago. Alongside her singing and dancing, every street graced with her voice is captured in a unanimous amusement. There were calls, laughter, and some pitching in on occasion. Under any other circumstance, the people of Pentos were selfish, sometimes cruel to one another, but somehow, someway, the blonde girl turns their hearts from stone to flower pedals, like the ones that adorn her yellow hair.

This makes Viserys roll his eyes. A young, silly girl has easily gained the hearts of the city with her sweet nothings while he has to fight for their respect. Rich and poor, young and old; it does not matter, she is loved and cherished by them all. The pretty flower of Pentos, they call her. It's unfair, though he would never admit this out loud or even to himself. He is, after all, more powerful than she is. And yet, he is just as enthralled as the rest of them.

Only because he has nothing better to do, of course.

So, he continues to watch, taking notice of her every detail, as he has done before. The way her yellow Lannister-like hair bounces with each step, catching the sun rays, turning them into pure gold, is like none other. It's not admirable by any means, considering how much dirt has caked layers upon her light skin, but the color is striking. Viserys crinkles his nose, not wanting this think about the smell that follows the forest-dweller. But this apparently did not matter to the city folk: after all, they share the same filth.

A prominent feature belonging to the woods witch, aside from her sharp jaw and straight, thin nose, are her eyes. Green, like the sea, drift to each person she runs into before closing in a blissful state, allowing her dancing feet to guide the way. The movements her small frame creates are like waves; soft and smooth but also inviting. Mirroring her body, the girl's eyes are just as alluring. Perhaps meeting her gaze creates a curse in which she is forever loved.

None of her features balance out how incredibly obnoxious Viserys finds her, though.

But, despite how Viserys loathes her enticing show, he is unable to keep himself from watching. She even accidentally trips over a loose cobblestone, and while she catches herself, she feels no embarrassment and continues to dance, a light smile still etched across her features, a laugh bubbling past her lips.

How pathetic, he thinks bitterly.

"Viserys!"

A small voice cries out, bringing his attention away from the dancing wood witch. His purple eyes blink a few times, now finding himself back on the ground. Viserys takes one last glance towards the singing girl, seeing her verdant eyes drift over him and his large home before prancing away, voice still singing her songs and arms out to dance with whomever wishes.

Viserys scoffs, turning on his heel to search for his little sister, quickly drowning out the voice belonging to the Flower of Pentos.

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