((Sini and Vanq may have contributed slightly))
Westeros, Crownlands, The Red Keep
The warm glow of the sun emanated down upon Viserys as he sat at his desk, the window that made up the roof of his study providing a great deal of light in the midday sun, one of the few rooms in the Red Keep to require no fires to light the space, probably rather un-Targaryen of him to not light up the room like a furnace, but he perceived no need.
Currently he lent back in his chair, regarding the transparent ceiling, his desk before him was ordered, scrolls, quills and other instrument all aligned neatly, with the Valyrian steel of Dark Sister placed across it, he had spent the morning interchanging between sharpening the blade and various paperwork chores, not that the blade required much work, it simply allowed him to focus his mind. While his excursion to the Summer Isles had certainly earned him respect with both the nobility and common folk, while also eliminating a building threat, he regretted going himself and not tasking a subordinate to carry out the task. It had been selfish of him really, he had grown so frustrated with the situation of Westeros and had needed a diversion, hopefully the whole of Westeros would not pay for his folly. For one he had to recover Dark Sister from the Queen’s quarters, as much as it may have been her traditional right, a blade sharp enough to rend a man in two with the flick of a wrist should never have been in her possession. While her servants had been reluctant to comply, a quiet reminder of their own personal safety with it around had won them over. It would do good for him to be seen with it, to add extra credentials to his place of importance at court. That and he really didn’t want another Targaryen shaming the family with insane killings.
Visenya stormed the halls of the Red Keep, a diminutive figure in black mail, the three headed dragon of her house enameled in red on her shoulders. Servants jumped out of her way, but with her head held high and her mind diverted with its silent fumings, the Queen took no notice. She searched for the whoreson who she knew had taken it from her. The damnable man who thought himself higher than he should, her cousin.
She had woken from terrible and delightful dreams of fire and blood raining down upon her numerous enemies. Enemies who sought to take what she and her husband Aegon were building. Viserys at this moment, had once again proven he was not to be trusted. She would need to talk to her husband about this, but for now, she would deal with it herself. Afterall, she was far more capable than the mewling man her husband could be.
I am the Reborn. It is mine. I need it.
The voice in her mind screamed it over and over lest she begin to vocalize the need, the demands. She would save that for when she finally had Viserys before her. The women she was given to help her-maids, not the squires she needed and deserved-had easily bent to tell her what she already knew. Viserys had stolen in in the black of night and taken her birthright. Dark Sister had been hers in another life. She had ravaged the Seven Kingdoms with it and Vhagar. And now both were gone or decayed. She stopped and howled an anguished scream, paying no attention to the quickly diverted stares or scurrying it caused. She was almost there.
The guards at his door jumped to attention but made no move to bar her entry. “Your Gra-”
Visenya forcefully pushed against the doors and sent them swinging wide, ignoring the men. They were beneath her. Viserys was beneath her and she would remind him of that once again. Her face, capable of beauty and sweetness was contorted into a cold burning fire. Her eyes, deep purple like aubergine, were tight but alive. Her lips were pressed thin for just a moment.
She didn’t wait to be acknowledged, but she saw Dark Sister on the insufferable man’s desk. It was there, so close, she could feel it calling out to her. It wanted its rightful owner. “Thief! The Stranger take you, I have come for what is mine! Insufferable prick of a man, what right do you have to come into my chambers?! To take my Dark Sister?!” She reached the desk and curled her fingers around its edge, her body angled over it, her face approaching his. “I could have your head for this, cousin.” She sneered, small froths of spittle formed in the corners of her mouth.
“Ah, if it isn’t my beloved sister, are we playing Queen today?” He turned his gaze from the sun reluctantly to look upon his fuming sister, trading one kind of fire for another. Somehow he felt the Sun was more of an actual threat to him than his cousin could ever be, although he corrected himself on that, underestimating lunatics often resulted in your own death.
With that, he unfurled a scroll of parchment on one of the piles on his desk, carefully moving the blade slightly up his desk to unfurl the document, taking a quill from its ink pot to begin scribbling down some details. “Now, is there any actual business you needed me for?” he spoke, briefly looking across at her, downwards even, his desk elevated by a few small steps.
Visenya growled, deep and throaty. He dared to speak back, he dared to ignore her. No one would just push her aside. She reached up and across the desk, its height an annoying inconvenience. The Queen's hand brushed against the fresh ink and came away smudged black. "What business do you do? My beloved brother?" She returned. "Were you made King when you ran off? Perhaps you grew a cunt and think yourself a Queen?"
She eyed Dark Sister, her hand itching to reach for it, her fingers trembling as they longed to wrap around its hilt. "I will take what is mine, brother.”
Viserys sighed deeply, calmly placing the now ruined parchment in a basket at the base of his desk, he would have to request another copy from the original messenger once he had the time, for now...
He drew a dagger from his belt, before slamming it into the table, passing through the air between the Queen’s fingers as it struck into the leather cover shielding the center of the desk, the metal weapon quivering in the momentary silence.
“Very well sister, you want the blade, take it, but do so as the true queen of Westeros would, with fire and blood.” his handsome features immediately drawn into a stone cold expression, a very serious and unmoved threat as he held her crazed gaze, the dagger still positioned between them, free of his grasp. He refused to rise individually to her insults, but he’d be damned if she thought he would simply roll over like a common servant.
Visenya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “How dare you even come this close to harming me.” A knick, a scratch, that would cause even a drop of her blood to escape would have demanded his head. It was almost a pity that he had not done so. She stared down from his face to the dagger now still and embedded in the fine desk.
Her fingers slid around the simple weapon, were it hers it would surely have been gilded with gold and encrusted with jewels. Dark Sister was a weapon meant to kill, this pitiful blade would only be needed for show. She pulled once and was met with resistance. She grunted and had to take a step back as the blade came loose and she held it before her. “Fire and Blood, yes. It would be more than pleasurable to make you pay for your insolence.” But she paused, unmoving as the steel reflected her eyes. In her former life she had had her sister and brother with her. It was a three-headed dragon on their sigil. Three, and she was only one; perhaps the only one who could truly claim to be a Dragon Lord, but the others would have to suffice. Aegon and Viserys. “But you will learn instead, Viserys. You will learn your true place by my side. Once we have suitable dragons...Yes, yes, it is necessary for you to yet live.” She spoke, though not to him.
Her eyes snapped away from the dagger and back to his face. “Consider yourself lucky, brother.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it. I make my own fate.” he replied, his voice quiet but forcefully, as immediately his hand grabbed her wrist, applying a slight pressure to her tendons, forcing her hand open and the dagger to fall onto the desk.
“Soon my brother, your husband, will realise that he cannot rule this realm without my aid, then we shall have to cooperate, and I will not have a sword of so much worth sequestered away within the Red Keep when it can rally both noble and small-folk, and bluntly, you couldn’t rally a band of peasant children.”
For one brief, glorious moment, Visenya saw herself lunging at the despicable man. His hand on hers was an unwelcome feeling, the quick burst of pain enough to make her howl in anger. Her lips quivered, her muscles taut and ready to spring.
A moment passed, her eyes shut tight as a tremble passed over her body. Her shoulders slumped, her head dropped down, chin resting against her breastplate. When she opened her eyes once again, the fiery anger in them was replaced by confusion and fear a second later. “What-Oh, Vis, you...” She made to smooth skirts she wasn’t wearing and froze. “I...n-n-no!” She braved a glance down at herself and felt tears forming in her eyes. “How...” Her voice a whisper tainted with desperation to understand. How often did she find herself like this? In armor she swore she didn’t own, in a place she couldn’t remember coming to, how much of her life had she spent second guessing every moment? “Help me.” Plaintive, like a child looking for her parents’ compassion.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Viserys sighed, his frustration pouring out, at least visibly, while found her continual personality shifts utterly vexing, attacking her in what he considered her ‘true’ personality was utterly pointless, and generally a bit upsetting. With this he let go of her hands, sliding Dark Sister off his desk to lean against his side of the desk in case the old weapon set her off again, pushing it into the alcove of the desk.
“Come, sweet cousin, regard the sky for a while, I find it helps with the clearing of one’s head.” he beckoned her towards him, standing up to allow her to sit. Unfortunately he was not in the habit of keeping spare dresses around, so he had nothing for her to change into, from the mail which so obviously upset her, instead he removed the cloak held around his neck by a chain, red with a black targaryen dragon, to drape over her, should she sit.
Visenya nodded, Viserys always knew what to do. Both he and Aegon were her rocks, her foundation. She didn’t know what she would do without them. She moved to the chair as her cousin stood up from it. His solar really was so pretty, with how the sun came in. With the light shining down pleasantly on her face as she tucked her feet beneath her, it was almost enough to ignore the ringing questions. “Thank you...” She sighed as the cloak was settled around her, it was enough to hide the mail as long as she didn’t move too much. “Vis, I miss Aegon...can we all go for a walk today?” She tucked her head into the chair and peered up to him with innocent eyes.
“He should be returning shortly, I’m sure he can find us in the grounds...first allow me to find you something more, comfortable.” He spoke, before calling out to the servants inevitably waiting on them outside the solar, not wanting to leave his cousin for any time at the moment, in case she reverted. Once a young blonde haired boy, had entered and then been dispatched to find a dress for her highness, suitable for a garden walk, he turned back to smile at his brother’s wife.
“That should only be a moment, thankfully with the sun out, a walk should be most refreshing.”