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(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 70: A Graceful Rise
🕑 Added 2025-09-14 14:00:03 +0000 UTCChapter 70: A Graceful Rise
123 AC, Dragonstone
A soft smile grew on the King’s face, and he replied with a soft voice, “I have gained a new chance at life, reborn, in a way. And I thought it was time for me to finally ride a dragon once more.”
Viserys entered the dragons’ caverns after listening to numerous warnings from the Dragonkeepers. He was sure that it was only partly their duty, but also the fact that they did not wish to lose their heads for their king's dying. Viserys ended up commanding them to let him pass. Their worries were for nought; he could feel it in his bones; he was ready to claim a dragon once more.
Balerion would always have a dear place in his heart, the greatest dragon who ever lived, the last one to have witnessed the glories of Old Valyria, the dragon of the Conqueror, himself. Alas, he was also old, tired, and ill, much like Viserys. And he died much like Viserys would have without Harry Potter’s help. Viserys did not regret claiming Balerion, despite his death. It had made him a part of history in a way before he had even become King, a part of a legacy that started from his ancestral home.
Alas, Balerion the Black Dread was a symbol of the past, and now, the King needed to strive for the future, which occurred in the chambers before him.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Viserys couldn’t help but chuckle at his daughter’s expression when he had told her that he would claim a dragon. She had asked him many times during his youth, and so had Daemon, often claiming that his inner flame had gone out with Balerion’s death. He had always disliked that comparison, but he understood it, in some way. He felt less without his dragon, but there had always been something stopping him from claiming another one, an instinct in a way that told him that he shouldn’t.
An instinct that was now pushing him towards this cave, towards Vermithor and Silverwing’s giant cave that they had taken to root on Dragonstone since the Old King’s death. He slowly walked forward, careful but not overly so, and the Bronze Fury slowly moved. It was larger than he remembered; then again, it had been decades since he had seen the great beast.
The dragon remained lying down, but moved his head to face Viserys, as if wishing to listen to what he had to say. It reminded him so much of his grandfather. He did much of the same, just looking at you with his piercing eyes, as if already knowing everything under the sun, but waiting for you to explain your side of one misstep or another.
He always tried to measure up to him, and looking back, he had failed everywhere it counted, “You remind me of him, you know. Your first rider… Your only rider… This silent treatment got me to reveal all of my secrets in seconds. I wish he were here. He’d have known what to do with all of this, with the mistake of my own making.”
The great bronze dragon huffed at him, and Viserys continued, “Oh, I made such a mess of things. He gave me a perfect realm, fractured by the Great Council, perhaps, but easily healed. I was so focused on mending the rift with the Velaryons, with siring an heir as he urged me so, of Aegon’s prophecy, that I ignored what was occurring before me.”
Viserys took a deep breath and sat down, while watching the wall, wishing not to meet the dragon’s gaze anymore, “I failed to see my realm fracturing. I failed to see my daughter’s failings and those of my wife. I was content with my vision, with the falsehood given to me that everything would be fine, that I hadn’t even noticed the civil war brewing upon my death. It took a sorcerer saving me from a slow and withering death, and him showing me the results of my decisions, for my eyes to truly open on what my negligence had unleashed.”
The King of the Seven Kingdoms stayed silent for a minute after that, as if trying to find his own words, “I know that I do not deserve to be your rider, Vermithor. I am but a crippled man who has done more to undo my grandfather’s great work than most of our enemies combined. Many people contributed, of course, but I was King. I am King. It is my responsibility to ensure that this never happened in the first place, one that I failed. And now, I come to you, Vermithor, a desperate king wishing to mend a broken realm, much like your rider had before you. I can see no better partner than I could have given the gruelling task ahead of me, so that you may lend me a fraction of my grandfather’s wisdom, hoping that it would be enough.”
Viserys sat there, not even risking a look at either of the dragons. He came for their judgment, bore his soul to his grandparents’ dragons, and waited.
Then, there was movement. The ground shook slightly as Vermithor shifted, claws scraping against stone. The dragon leaned forward, sniffing the air near Viserys. The King didn’t move. If this was the end, then so be it. At least he had spoken his truth.
But Vermithor did not attack. Instead, the dragon let out a low huff, almost like a breath of acknowledgement, before lowering his head slightly.
Viserys blinked. He looked up, finally meeting the beast’s eyes, and he felt something settle into place. It was different from what he had felt from Balerion. The Black Dread had truly deserved his name; he felt far older and powerful than Viserys could grasp, especially given his younger age. Vermithor felt like his grandfather, a stable dragon, with a controlled fury burning beneath it all.
The King of the Seven Kingdoms stepped forward, slowly, and placed a single hand on the dragon’s bronze-scaled head, “Thank you, Vermithor. This means more than you know. I will not waste this chance.”
The dragon rumbled, as if agreeing, before slowly showing him to his still saddled back. Viserys struggled as he climbed up. He wasn’t a young man anymore, and the lack of an arm made things very difficult, but he could feel the giddiness grow at the idea of soaring in the skies once more.
It took some time, but he sat calmly on the saddle, almost disbelieving the fact that he succeeded before speaking calmly, “Sōvēs!”
Vermithor reacted immediately, pushing forward and exiting the cave with steady force. The flight began with a sharp lurch as the dragon beat his wings, lifting them into the sky. Viserys held tight. The wind hit his face hard, but he didn’t flinch. He kept his focus as they climbed.
Silverwing took to the air shortly after. The two dragons rose side by side, circling over Dragonstone. Viserys kept his eyes open. He wanted to see it all. The island looked magnificent from above. He could see the paths, the towers, the coastline.
He let out a breath. Then a quiet chuckle. He couldn’t help it. The cold air, the rush, the feeling of being in control again. He felt free. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but laugh in delight and exhilaration.
Finally, the dragons descended back to their cave, entering it with practised ease, and Viserys carefully climbed down. He reached out and placed a hand on Vermithor’s side, “Thank you for that, Vermithor. I needed this.”
A voice spoke up behind him, “I haven’t known you much, Viserys, but you are definitely looking relaxed.”
Viserys stiffened and turned towards its source, almost yelling to summon the Kingsguard, before recognising the face of the man before him, “Harry Potter. I did not expect to see you until dinner.”
“And I was perfectly planning on waiting, but then again, it’s very rare to witness the King of the Seven Kingdoms claim a dragon. I also couldn’t exactly afford to let something go wrong, not after using a Phoenix tear on healing you. Those things are very expensive, I’ll have you know, almost priceless.”
While he should have felt reassured at the idea of Harry Potter ensuring that he wouldn’t die a needless death, a part of Viserys couldn’t help but be offended at his interference in what was a private moment in his life.
He didn’t wonder how the sorcerer knew of this. After all, he’d shown Viserys the future with his own eyes, shown him his family’s ruin. His attempt to claim Vermithor shouldn’t truly be surprising given what the man knew, but his meddling showed a lack of trust, nonetheless.
His dissatisfaction must have shown as the sorcerer spoke up, “Oh, I didn’t know about the claiming at all. I just felt it happen and decided to take a look.”
Viserys calmed down once more, but still wasn’t particularly happy. Instead of arguing, he turned towards Vermithor, who was standing in a position halfway between attacking or fleeing from the sorcerer, while also making sure to hide Silverwing from him.
Normally, he wouldn’t have noticed it, but the sheer unease he felt from his new bond with the Bronze Fury showed him the depth of the dragon’s reactions. He turned towards Potter and spoke up calmly, “Why is Vermithor afraid of you?”
The sorcerer didn’t seem concerned at all from the reaction and answered calmly, “Dragons are blessed with the ability to see more than mortals do, a remnant of the blood in their veins.”
The King had so many questions, like what he meant by the blood in the dragons’ veins, but he was overwhelmed by the confession that Harry Potter was not a normal man: “What are you then?”
“I’m human, much like you are,” Potter replied cheekily, while snickering at Viserys’ incredulous expression.
“It’s refreshing that you are so direct, so I’ll explain slightly. You asked the wrong question. It’s not about nature or power, even if it often comes hand in hand. It’s about feats and achievements, in a way, which leave traces. Being wary of a powerful creature is one thing, but facing one that you know has done seemingly impossible feats, well, that’s a whole other thing.”
Viserys understood the logic. After all, he would consider a seasoned and bloodied mercenary to be more deadly than an unbloodied knight in full plate. Nevertheless, a question slipped from his lips without even meaning to, “What could you have possibly done that would make a dragon wary of you?”
“Let’s just say that I had a more exciting life in my younger years. I wasn’t always a scholar after all.”
He knew that Potter wouldn’t elaborate further, and so, Viserys changed the subject, “Well, given your presence there, I wished to thank you for your actions in healing my nieces, as well as my grandchildren. House Targaryen owes you a great debt.”
“It was nothing. As long as you don’t try to burn down the entire continent, consider the debt repaid.”
The King chuckled while shaking his head, “That is an arduous task, indeed. Still, you claimed that the affliction was sorcerous in nature. Have you found the person culpable?”
“Yeah, it’s handled. It was slightly messy, but it did allow me to deal with a problem before it escalated too much down the road. I highly suggest that you start looking with a proper magical advisor soon, though. Not that it would be an easy task. The Faith of the Seven has all but wiped out most magical bloodlines, and unfortunately, your family, being the last Dragonlords, is bound to get the attention of most growing magical factions.”
“Dragons are known magical deterrents,” Viserys argued.
“Oh, they could be. Most magical practitioners I’ve met in this realm are more like children wielding a kitchen knife. No matter what, most would never be skilled enough to kill a knight, even if it were possible. It’s ignorance that’s saving you, not anything else. It would be easier to turn the knights against each other and have them kill one another, don’t you think?”
Viserys blanched at the thought, “You think that magic users will start to interfere in my family’s affairs.”
“Not anytime soon, if I had to guess. Valyria left scars, but they will fade eventually. There’s a reason why I didn’t publicly antagonise your family despite the way they’ve been so demanding, and it’s for your sake, not mine. After all, people would know that you are vulnerable, and that would escalate things. My point is that with the resurgence of magic, it seems foolish not to have some kind of magical protection in place.”
“I don’t suppose you’d volunteer for the position,” Viserys answered, while doing his best to process this information.
“Hell no,” he replied with a chuckle, “I did my best to avoid all of this political crap, and I won’t start being involved now. You’re not in a hurry. The priority should still be the rift in your family, but you should still keep it in mind.”
“How could I not be in a hurry? My nieces were attacked!”
“And believe me, my response wasn’t subtle. It will take some time until someone even thinks about trying anything like that again, which makes the coming succession crisis the greatest threat to your dynasty, not some foreign magical interference.”
The King of the Seven Kingdoms nodded, relaxing slightly, “You have given me much to think of. It seems that I am indebted to you many times over.”
The man waved his hand in dismissal, “Like I said, it’s fine. Now, you’ve spent a few months… sorry, moons… without your disease. How do you feel now?”
“I feel like a new man, but I cannot help but feel tired. You were right. The divide between my family is too strong. Rhaenyra and Alicent, Daemon and Otto, it will inevitably lead to rebellion, no matter what choice I make. My decisions will not be respected at the moment of my death. Rhaenyra will not make a good Queen, and half of the realm will rebel against her or her son. Aegon would also likely not make a good King and doesn’t have the temperament for it, and Daemon would sooner burn Dragonstone to the ground than let him sit on the throne, especially given how he has tied his daughter’s fate to Rhaenyra’s claim. Making any other choice means that I would need to disinherit one of them, making even further instabilities.”
Viserys had spent moons observing his family. Aegon was quickly growing into a respectable man, starting from his children’s birth, but he didn’t seem inclined to be King. Rhaenyra, even if she had suddenly turned into the Conciliator reborn, would result in too much instability, both because of her children’s parentage and her gender.
Potter hummed in approval, “You’ve grown as a King, Viserys.”
Instead of being happy about it, Viserys couldn’t help but slump, “I know what I must do, but I wish it wouldn’t come at the cost of my family.”
He wasn’t under the illusion that his family would be grateful for the solution that he had found, much like the first Great Council did not endear Jaehaerys to either Rhaenys or him, feeling like he hadn’t found either of them worthy. He could see it now that it was the best way to appease the realm, to stop a civil war much like the one he faced now, and just like his predecessor, Viserys needed the right candidate to win.
Harry Potter gave him a sad smile, “Something that I have found is that everyone is in this life for themselves. Your family is not different. They will think that you will be taking away what is theirs, and they will hate you for it.”
Potter’s answer saddened Viserys in its truth. He remembered it when Rhaenyra was of age to marry. Every unmarried man in the Seven Kingdoms had all but propositioned her, not for her beauty or out of affection, but at the idea of being King, only thinking of their self-interest. It was only Lord Lyonel Strong who gave him an appropriate suggestion, a single lord out of hundreds.
Then an idea sparked in Viserys’ mind, “You claimed that everyone is in this life for themselves, and yet your actions had been nothing but altruistic. You did not ask for anything in return, not even a favour from the King of the Seven Kingdoms. So, why did you do any of it? Why did you heal me? If you spoke the truth, then you must have gained something from all of this.”
The sorcerer stayed silent and impassive, and didn’t answer anything, which urged the King to continue. “You claimed that it would be bothersome to travel in a realm with dragons warring against one another, but also, you’ve shown me that dragons would avoid you should they have the chance, which means that you wouldn’t be in danger of a dragon attacking you. I know that you have saved me so that the Seven Kingdoms would be stable, so your task requires it. Why is that?”
This was the most that Viserys could guess, given his interactions with the mysterious sorcerer, and instead of being offended, a smile grew on the man’s face, “You have come a long way as a King, Viserys Targaryen. I’ll see you at dinner.”
And just like that, Potter walked away into a dark part of the cave. Viserys blinked at the action but saw Vermithor relaxing. He quickly realised that the sorcerer was gone. He turned towards the large dragon and grumbled, “At least Dinner will not be a boring affair.”
Vermithor exhaled sharply, his body settling against the stone floor once more. The King shook his head and slowly made his way out of the cave in front of the obviously relieved Dragonkeepers. Still, the idea of a magical equivalent of the Kingsguard did seem appealing. He’d speak of magical groups in the Seven Kingdoms during dinner. It was bound to be more exciting than the constant bickering he was often subjected to.
AN: The idea behind this chapter is to show that Viserys had grown after what happened, both by contrasting both interactions with Harry when he first came to Dragonstone and his thought process afterwards. Vermithor’s claim seemed almost fitting given what he’s trying to do, so I went with him instead of Silverwing. I left a few hints about some other stuff, and I’m curious about whether or not a few of you will catch them. Still, I hope this came out like I wanted it to, but I don’t mind rewriting this chapter depending on your feedback. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
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RiceMan
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faintmeteor
Fascinating take on a reawakened Viserys.
