THE DRAGON DANCER // HOTD

06

Viserra had the exact same dream for three moons. Valyria. The Doom. Her death.

It was a nightly routine. And every time she woke up it was in a cold sweat. Chest heaving. Jacaerys there by her side every night to comfort her as she cried.

It was a ginormous headache; the entire experience. She didn't want to do anything but lie in bed. Her body physically ached to do anything more. Eating was even a challenge.

It took a toll on her, everyone could see it. She hardly ate or drank anything. She didn't go around Joffrey, Aegon, or Viserys because she didn't want to dampen their moods. She isolated herself in her chambers at any given opportunity. She'd even missed a few council meetings, though she attended some. And worst of all, she hadn't ridden Meraxes in months.

This was the most concerning. No one loved dragon riding more than Viserra. Not a single soul living or dead. And with her slothed mood, Meraxes was down as well. She moped, not even bothering to fly anywhere. She simply wandered the beach if she was bored and napped otherwise.

These dreams were consuming Viserra. Everyday she got worse. It was almost as if she was depressed. But it wasn't necessarily sadness that plagued her. It was longing.

She didn't know it, but she longed to be in Valyria. It was yearning of the worst degree. Her soul wasn't with her anymore. It was on the lands of Valyria, leaving her empty.

Jacaerys felt useless. He saw the woman he loved fall into the deepest parts of herself and unable to resurface to the rest of them. He tried everything he could. Reading to her. Practicing his Valyrian with her. Offering to go riding with her and Meraxes on Vermax. He even sang to her a few times. He wasn't the best singer, but he attempted for the sake of bringing her some sort of joy.

Nothing worked.

Lucerys noticed. He brought her treats from the kitchen at odd hours, attempting to surprise her and raise her mood. That was no good either.

Joffrey, though so young, brought Viserra some of his toys. The girl put on a weak smile and played with him for a bit so he would feel as though he helped, but it truly didn't help her at all.

Rhaenyra didn't understand what was going on with Viserra. She asked every day if the girl had plans or wanted to do anything at all. It was always replied with a 'no' or simply no answer at all, merely a shrug. Rhaenyra had experienced some saddened spells in her teenage years, though she didn't recall anything so severe. It worried her. She attempted all angles to help. The loving mother who smothered and tended to her, the stern mother who demanded she eat and do something productive, and even the friend who only asked for a conversation and input on dresses and events going on.

Nobody could help. It never worked.

It went on for months. It took a few weeks of these dreams to fully have an effect on Viserra. She thought she was deprived of sleep, since she'd wake up every night after only a few hours.

To help this suspicion, the Maesters gave her milk of the poppy to relax her and attempt to give her some peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Even that didn't work. Maester Gerardys had some suspicions about what was truly at play, but he didn't dare voice his thoughts until he knew more.