As the granddaughter of an exiled Targaryen, Viserra has always craved connection to those who also share the blood of the dragon. Summoned from Essos to King's Landing for her dragon and skill with the sword, she enters in an unstable realm complic...
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There was a loud bang as if someone had slammed an object onto a table. The noise was alarming enough to stop Viserra in the doorway and make her take a good look around at everything around.
She counted seven heads off silver in that room, amongst several others who did not share the same Valyrian features. A man standing at the far end of the table looked no older than she was and he seemed to hold everyone's attention. He held a cup in his hand as if to raise a toast and the tension in the air was quite palpable. And the only one who seemed to notice that they had entered the room was him.
"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews, Jace...Luke...and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise..." He darted his piercing eye towards her at the door, holding it there for a second before bringing it back to the others, "Strong."
The eyepatch gave away his identity. Viserra knew of only one Targaryen who had lost an eye many years ago, and the odds were slim that he was anyone other than the King's second born son. But instead of ruminating on her thoughts, she continued to watch the events unfold in front of them.
"Come! Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys."
Another standing lad puffed out his chest, obviously offended by the comment. "I dare you to say that again."
"Why?" The one eyed prince scoffed, turning towards him. His face fell back into the same cold expression he wore only moments before. "It was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?" Both men stepped towards one another and suddenly the one with the darker hair swung at his offender.
Commotion erupted as soon as the first strike had landed, the others now getting up from the table. Some were adding to the chaos but most of them tried to deescalate it. Viserra kept her eye on the prince. To her surprise, he was so unbothered by the punch that he hadn't even spilt his wine. She recognized a familiar fire in his eye as he then pushed the brunette to the floor. Oddly enough, he seemed the only one amused by the events transpiring here, a wicked smile plastered on his face.
There is no doubting it now, she thought, it is indeed Aemond One Eye.
A plain woman cornered Aemond to scold him for his behavior but Viserra's attention turned to her right as the two other lads were attempting to get to him. Her eyebrows raised as she watched the guards diligently holding them back, their anger was seething and it was obvious that such seemingly innocent words held significant disrespect.
"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother. Though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud as theirs." Aemond roughly ripped his arm away from his mother and turned back towards the two held by the guards.
An older silver haired man who had been quiet until now, suddenly stepped between the feuding pair. With only his finger raised carrying an intimidating energy, he called off the lad behind him. Another Targaryen woman stood next to him nervously but sternly commanded the group to head to their chambers. With scowls on their faces, each of the younger ones listend without further argument.
