"We come from pure strength Daenerys." Her brother told her as he flipped through the old tome. "Viserra Velaryon. As untamable as the sea itself. Her brother Aemar. A greenseer and a mighty warrior. Aemond Targaryen. Rider of Vhagar, the largest dr...
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King Viserys limped his way into the chamber of the Small Council, all his lords were already there, the Hand, The Commander of the Kingsguard, the Master of Laws, Master of Coin, Grand Maester Mellos and the Master of Ships. The King was tired even though it was midday but nevertheless, he did his best to appear well as he smiled at the men who rose in his presence.
"There was no meeting planned for today my lords." He said as he moved to his chair and sat down, the others following suit. "Therefore I take it something urgent has happened?"
Tyland Lannister cleared his throat, "It is not quite a matter of urgency Your Grace, but we have received news that. . . is most intriguing and. . . none wished to make you feel it was withheld."
Viserys nodded, "And what is this news?"
Grand Maester Mellos pulled a scroll from inside his sleeve and unfurled it. After receiving the raven from Oldtown he had been careful to peel off the wax seal stamped with the Hightower crest. The Citadel resided in Oldtown, their bond with House Hightower as ancient as the Seven themselves. However, he did understand the falling out Lord Otto had with the King and he did not want the information tainted by His Grace knowing who had sent it to the Red Keep. Or the manner in which Otto Hightower acquired such information – an informant he corresponded with from Fleabottom.
"Tis from Driftmark, Your Grace."
"News from Lord Corlys?" he asked confused.
"Not the Seasnake my King." Lyonel Strong whispered from beside him making his confusion grow. "It began as idle gossip but since has been confirmed by the Lord of the Tides himself."
Mellos went on, his old voice raspy, "It seems his youngest son, the boy who will soon be residing within the Red Keep –"
"Aemar?" Viserys asked. He had always been fond of the boy, quiet, dutiful, studious. He worried something happened to him. Fallen to disease perhaps? Or a shipwreck?
"Yes Your Grace. Young Lord Aemar, has made it public knowledge that he, supposedly –"
"The boy is a greenseer." Tyland interrupted, his patience worn out from the old man's hesitation, "Your Grace. A prophet. A clairvoyant. An oracle. A –"
"Dreamer." Viserys whispered as his gaze fell to the table and his good fingers toyed with the glass marble before him.
Since his own youth Viserys had always had a liking for the tales of Targaryen Dreamers, Daenys, Aegon the Conqueror himself, and the other assorted Dreamers of Old Valyria. He had desperately wished to be one of them. There had been a time when he thought perhaps he was. His dream of having a son born with the Conqueror's Crown, the sound of thundering hooves, splintering shields, ringing swords, and all the dragons roaring as one was still as vivid as the night when he had first seen it.
He never had the honor of knowing a seer, and now, when Aemar arrived so to would the opportunity. He looked up from the table and around at the lords as he smiled, "What a gift indeed."
