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ALIA RACED DOWN THE CORRIDORS OF ILLYRIO'S MANSION, PASSING VASES AND CANDLES AND KNOCKING INTO SERVANTS, A TEMPESTUOUS STORM OF BLONDE AND BLOOD RED.
Truthfully, she didn't know what she would do when she found Viserys, except give him a piece of her mind. It was an unwise plan and she knew it, and she probably wouldn't have put it to action if she wasn't so angry and distraught. A dangerous soup of emotions swirled around in her chest; anger, sadness, bitter hatred (only to name a few).
How could he do that? How could Viserys say such things to his only living relative? His sister? Telling Dany that he would allow the Dothraki – and their horses – to rape her made Alia feel sick to her stomach. He was a disgusting person, and she had every intention to tell him that.
Alia had always had a violent, uncontrollable temper. When she was a little girl she remembered getting so angry at someone she was playing with, that she couldn't quite remember what it was she had said or done. A hot, red mist had overcome her, and whatever happened had been lost to time. Over the years she had gotten better at managing it – whenever she felt angry, she could usually submerge it and repress it, pressurising it so much, it didn't dare bubble back up. But not now – not after being overwhelmed by so many other factors, and by feeling betrayed by the man whom she trusted most. The anger was welling up. She wasn't sure if there was anything she could do.
When Alia finally found Viserys' room – the biggest in the mansion – she felt a lump well up in her throat. But Alia shook her head, swallowing thickly before barging through the door.
"HOW DARE YOU!" Alia yelled the second she crossed the threshold and was in his room, watching as he jumped from his spot in front of the curtains. The element of surprise was fleeting, however, because the second Viserys turned around, his face was a picture of violent anger.
His lips were curled up in a snarl and a fire erupted in his widened lilac eyes. Yes, she was slightly scared, but that didn't stop her from surging across the room to stand right in front of him.
"HOW CAN YOU SAY THOSE THINGS?" Alia screamed. "TO YOUR SISTER! SHE'S YOUR ONLY LIVING RELATIVE, AND YOU TREAT HER LIKE SHE'S THE SHIT ON YOUR SHOES!"
She had come too far now to stop. Her voice reverberated off the bedroom walls, and her throat felt like a forest ripped from a fire. Alia had heard of his temper and the damage it caused too, and before she was wary and cautious around him but now she didn't care. Not now. Not after hearing the things he had said to Daenerys. She couldn't bring herself to care.
"YOU DISGUST ME. YOU ARE COMPLETELY LOATHSOME, AND—"
Before she had the chance to finish expressing her hatred for the eldest Targaryen, a hand was clamped firmly around her throat, twisting her around so she was pressed roughly against the wall. Alia was trapped, stuck between a wall and a pair of burning lilac eyes filled with hatred.
