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Viserys remembered the day the Targaryen dynasty fell vividly. He could still recall the dreadful noise of the raging summer storm. Titan-like, crashing waves upon rocky shores, it's marvel strength beating Dragonstones fastness apart, the cracking lightning overhead the stoned fortress, pattering of hurried feet across the stone floor and the whispering mid-wives who huddled around his mothers birthing bed.

They gossiped that the seven Gods had sent the storms to Dragonstone to aid Robert's victory over the Targaryens. Viserys had fumed in frustration when he realized that his position as a Targaryen royal was no longer of concern if they dared to speak of such treason in front of him.

Despite this gut-wrenching feeling, Viserys mind was more concernedly focused for his mother who shrieked and screamed alongside the bellows of the storm outside the castle walls.

Viserys took a step forward towards his mothers bed in hopes of lifting up her spirits like he had always done in the Red Keep during happier, brighter times. Suddenly, he felt a firm grip on his shoulder and small Viserys looked up, catching sight of Ser Willem Darry's brown eyes and his heavily wrinkled cheeks.

"Come, a woman's work is no concern to men."

Ser Willem steered Viserys away from the chamber and into his own little bedroom, a quarter size of his original chamber in the Red Keep.

The raging storm grew by each passing minute and Visery's began to wonder if the Usurper was sending the storm to Dragonstone from the Stormlands. Viserys grew furious and prayed to the gods to turn him into a dragon so he could burn all the Usurpers who had risen up in rebellion against his father and brother.

His prayers went unanswered and so he silently prayed for his older brother, Rhaegar to arrive and save them from this ruin. Viserys refused to believe his elder brother was dead. Rhaegar was a dragon. No stag can defeat a dragon.

His thoughts were interrupted as a maid came rushing in, her white apron soaked in blood. His mothers blood.

"My prince," she wheezed, out of breath. "Your mother wishes to see you."

Viserys didn't need to be told twice and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him.

The squeals of a new born baby filled the room. His mother, who had once shone livelier than the sun looked so frail and sickly. It had momentarily made Viserys doubt the woman was his mother until she gave him a small, wane smile.

"Come, my son. Meet your little sister." She beckoned him towards her canopy bed and Viserys approached meekly, unsure of this tiny intruder that lay so snuggly in his mothers arms.

"Daenerys Stormborn." His mother quietly proclaimed with a hint of pride.

Viserys peered at his sister and felt an overwhelming joy course through his veins.

"She's so beautiful... like a porcelain doll," Viserys murmured, gently brushing the top of his sisters head. She was so small and tiny. Viserys was almost afraid that she would break if he applied too much pressure.

Queen Rhaella raised her head to observe her last remaining son and Viserys grimaced when he sighted tears running down his mothers pasty white cheeks.

"Viserys... you must promise me to be strong..." suddenly, she broke into fits of coughing. A midwife rushed to her side but his mother ushered her away with a wave of her hand.

"You must protect yourself and you sister from all those who wish you harm... be brave, my little dragon... like your brother... you must be brave... Promise me that you will protect your sister..."

"I promise mother."

Rhaella nodded, laying her head down onto the feathered pillows.

"My time... has come, Viserys..."

Viserys furrowed his little eyebrows, confused and bewildered.

"What do you mean, mother?"

Her mother merely smiled in return and wearily closed her eyes. This time she did not stir.

"Mom?" Viserys whimpered. At his tender age, Viserys did not understand his mother died, forever perished from this world. His good-bye was cut short with Ser Willem Darry and a group of armoured knights who burst into the chamber and hastily pulled Viserys away from his mother. He felt like a foal, dragged away from his father and stripped of his identity.

"We must go, now!" One of the knights urged.

Viserys was roughly hauled by Ser Willem through the corridors. Behind them, a nurse-maid garbed in dark black carried his baby sister in her thick arms.

"Where are we going? I demand to see my father!" Viserys commanded, stomping his feet loudly.

"Your father, the King, is dead. The Usurper sits on the throne. The Targaryen fleet is crushed and you are no longer safe." Willem replied gruffly, his legs hurrying through the dark halls rapidly.

The horrid words sunk in like a thousand knives and Viserys felt shivers running down his spine.

Another knight with sandy blonde hair approached, out of breath and wielding an large sword dripping in scarlet, dark blood.

"We've been betrayed. The Tyrells have allied themselves with the rebels and the remaining Targaryen army have scattered. We're alone, no one will save us now."

Ser Willem Darry stopped dead in his tracks, sweat pouring down his wrinkled face.

"Those damn traitors," he hissed.

"The war is over, Ser Darry. We must turn over the Targaryen children. Robert may even pardon the lot of us which is a much better fate then being beheaded."

Viserys shook in fear, his courage failing. He felt paralyzed under their scrutinizing faze The remaining knights eyed one another as if considering the proposal.

"Then go and run tail between your legs to the Usurper and beg for a pardon. I, on the other hand, stay loyal to my liege unlike you dogs," snapped Willem Darry.

"Him? Your liege?" he pointed towards Viserys. "One day you will watch as he falls into madness like his father."

Viserys shuffled, his mind reeling and heart beating at a maddening pace. Why did he mean by falling into madness like his father?

"I have listened to what you have said and I piss on every word. Stand aside before I bury my sword into your chest to the hilt."

The knight appeared as if he was about to protest but something clicked in his mind, he shifted from one foot to another then grudgingly stepped aside.

"You will regret this, Ser Darry. The gods themselves will curse you."

Ignoring the man, Darry pushed past and barked orders for the last of the loyal man to follow him to the escape route and into the open storm. Willem Darry bravely pushed through the storm, shielding Viserys from the harsh, painful currents that battered against the exposed skin like tiny sharp rocks. The moment they reached the dockyard, Viserys was pulled into a small cog of a ship that was rough and brittle on the sides. It was a battered, old thing but it was the safe and that's all that mattered.

"Where are we going?" He fearfully asked, leaning on the wooden headboard of the ship.

"We are sailing East. To the free cities, my prince."

Viserys gazing astern with a low heart as the beautiful coast line of the Dragonstone faded from their view and with it, the Targaryen Dynasty that came into power 300 years ago.

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Viserys remembered the horrid day as if it was yesterday. Even now, he could hear the howls of the storm and his mothers whispering voice.

"Be brave."

It had been fives years since the tragedy and life continued to spiral into worse circumstances.

Their only protector, Ser Willem Darry, was dead. After his death, the servants stole what little money they had left and drove them from the house.

Viserys dragged their meagre belongings through the empty night, his spirit broken. His little sister, Daenerys trailed behind, crying a river of tears.

He ignored her wailings and cries for the past half hour until he could no longer stand it. Viserys turned around, ready to unleash a barrage of anger at his sister until he caught sight of her pathetic, little form. She was covered in dust and her pale cheeks smeared with tears and dirt. Dread and regret overcame him and Viserys rushed to her side, embracing her lithe form.

"Hush... All will be fine, I promise you... Tomorrow will be a better day," he murmured against her neck, tangling his long fingers in her unruly silver hair.

"I... want to go... back...," she whimpered, hiccuping and chocking back tears. "I ... want Ser Darry."

Viserys stiffened, "He's gone, Dany. He can't come back."

She lifted her head and stared at him, teary-eyed with those loverly lilac irises.

"Can't we go back to the house with the red door? I'm sure he'll be there."

He shook his head and gently smoothed his younger sisters silver hair. Daenerys eyes once again welled up with tears and Viserys held her tightly against his chest while humming a soothing tune.

"He won't be there, Dany. But I'll be here. I'll always be here."

'You must be brave. Promise me that you will protect your sister.' His mother final dying words came reeling back to him.

"I promise," Viserys murmured, burying his sister tighter against his chest. He rocked his sister to the tune of the lapping waves of the nearby river, the numbness pounding of his head and emptiness of his heart blinded him of his own sorrow. Focusing on his precious sister, he didn't cease the embrace and humming until her wracking sobs died down into silent sniffles.

"Come along, Dany," he said softly, afraid of engulfing another torrent of tears.

Daenerys nodded and stood up on her wobbly knees. She looked like a dazed young calf, lost in the woods. Viserys heaved the large luggage over his shoulder and grabbed ahold of his sisters tiny palm.

The two walked listlessly across the dirt road, the starless sky and moon overheard. Daenerys's feet faltered and her eyes drooped close in weariness. Viserys swiftly picked her up and Dany's silver head burrowed sleepily into the crook of his shoulder.

"Where we going?" she drowsily asked.

"On an adventure," he murmured.

Daenerys stirred in his arms and yawned.

"Adventure?" she murmured, her eyes still shut.

"Yes, go back to sleep."

She hummed and pouted her lips, weariness overtaking the mind and dragging her into the realm of dreams.

With arms full and an aching heart, he trudged through the saddest city lane, passing a watchman with dark, listless eyes and bitter beggars garbed in rags, heads hanging low.

The city of Braavos was no longer a safe haven for the Targaryen siblings. Unlike the other free cities, the Iron Throne and Braavos kept close trade and alliance with each other. Viserys knew that it was extremely dangerous to be in a city that was closely connected with the Usurper, where anyday he could send his assassins to get rid of the only obstacle threatening his position on the Iron Throne.

Viserys was able to save some coin before the servant were able to take all the wealth. He had managed to scrape up 16 square iron coins and hoped the paltry amount would be enough to buy a passage to one of the free cities.

Ragman's Harbor, which is open to all foreign ships would be the best harbour to find a route. Viserys had very little coin to go to the luxurious purple harbour so he refrained from going there.

The dirt road soon turned into cobble stone as Viserys walked throughout the ominous night. He was nearing a bustling night street where drunks and poor folks gathered to drink and forget their misery. Lanterns shone on every corner and drunken men hobbled past, laughing merrily. Viserys made sure to stay clear from those disgusting swines.

Whores draped in light clothing leaned against the stone walls, lifting there skirts and showing off their milky white legs in hopes of attaining a customer tonight.

Finally, he had reached the harbour and his nostrils filled with the smell of the open sea. The harbour was quiet but for numerous ships, cogs, trading vessels, fishing boats that rocked gently upon the soft ocean current. It was a calming sound.

"I wish to see the captain of this ship," he announced to the nearest sailor he could find.

An dark-skinned, foreign sailor with scaly, inked tattoos took a single glance at him and replied in a gibberish tongue he did not understand. Viserys shrugged the man away and stalked off, preferring to find another.

Every captain or sailor he had managed to converse with stated they were trading ships and were not willing to take a young girl on board.

"Gal's are a curse, y'know? I ain't gettin' whirl-pooled again, lemme tell ya. Better leave em' at 'ome like I did me wife," said one illiterate sailor, grinning toothlessly at the sleeping child in his arms.

"Pretty thing, ain't she? Not from 'ere, I can see."

"No, she's not," Viserys brushed him off and went seeking another ship.

His body was becoming weary with all the stress that had taken place today but every time he would glimpse at Dany's sleeping face he knew that he must overcome this task. Viserys needed to protect his sister and the sooner they left Braavos, the better it would be for the both of them.

Viserys came across a long, oak ship with a well-sized mast. A tanned young woman with a long brown braid sat on the ships ledge, gazing at him amusingly.

If he had not been this exhausted he would have taken her open stares negatively.

The words written on the ships sails was in High Valyrian and so Viserys spoke to her in High Valyrian.

"I seek out a passage to one of the free cities. It is in my desire to speak to the captain of this ship."

The woman titled her head to the left and raised her eyebrows.

When she did not respond, Viserys repeated himself and this time the dark-skinned woman laughed.

He was a taken back by her sudden laughter and she responded back in a corrupted dialect of High Valyrian.

"You are speaking to the captain," she smoothly replied.

Viserys wearily closed his eyes, "My apologies. I am hoping to gain a passage on this ship to one of the free cities."

"Do you have a choice in particular or are you willing to go anywhere?"

'Take me somewhere the Usurpers knives can't find me.'

But he did not voice his thoughts and answered with a simple yes.

"My ship is sailing to Tyrosh on the next sun rise," she swung her feet in the air like a young child and he began to wonder if she was simply toying with him and wasn't the captain after all.

"Do you have any room?" he asked gloomily.

"Depends on the price." The tanned woman jumped off her ship and gracefully landed on the dock yard.

Viserys hurriedly covered sister silver hair with his cloak and pulled his hood firm on his head.

The last thing he needed was this woman questioning his unusual features of silver hair and purple eyes. It wouldn't be long for her to find out he was a Targaryen and it was too early for that discovery to be revealed to her.

He pulled out the coin in his pocket and showed her his only money.

She sniffled and poked the coins around as if they were nothing but mere sand rocks.

"The journey to Tyrosh is seven days and the amount you've given me is three days. No more and besides..." Her hazel eyes turned to gaze at the sleeping girl in his arms and she abruptly shook her head. "A child abroad causes many problems I'd sooner not deal with."

She turned to walk away. At that moment, Viserys had felt so small and pathetic.

Daenerys squirmed in his numbing arms and as her small body began to shiver from the cold air, his will to get on that ship grew.

"I have a ring..." Viserys called out.

The greedy woman turned around, with a glint of curiosity in her eye.

"What sort of ring?"

Viserys pulled off a gold ring from his left hand and gingerly presented it to her.

She took the ring and peered at the gold as if trying to determine how fake it was. Suddenly, she bit the ring and when she pulled her hand from her mouth her face appeared rather stunned.

"Its real gold," she whispered, this time she looked at Viserys in a different light and immediately, he lowered his head to prevent her from catching sight of his unnatural eyes.

"How did you come across such a fine golden ring?" she inquired.

"It was my fathers," It was not a lie.

The woman nodded and gazed at his sisters dozing form. She appeared to be lost in her thoughts before finally making up her mind,

"You will be given a cabin on the lower deck."

Viserys did not know what or where the lower deck was but he obediently climbed onto the mast and followed the woman across the planks and into a cramped corridor. Daenerys began to awaken, rubbing her swollen pink eyes and growing fussy in his arms.

"Your cabin," she pointed toward the small wooden door and then turned around and walked off.

The door hinges creaked when he pushed onto the door. The cabin was small and cramped. On the far side lay a small bed, dressed in linen and a tiny chair sat on its left. A bucket lay next to his feet and Viserys grimaced when he became aware what it was there for.

The cabin bare, small and poorly furnished. Viserys placed the heavy baggage of their modest belongings on the floor and gently shook his sister until her exhausted purple eyes heavily opened.

"Take off your dirty clothes."

Daenerys blinked sleepily at him and began to lazily pull at her leather boots and all the while whining about being tired.

"Lets change first and then you can sleep," he told her, coaxing Dany to lift her arms so he could help undress her and when all was done, he slipped on a cotton white nightgown over her head.

He watched as she crawled on the creaky,small bed and curl up under the thin blankets. Daenerys looked so peaceful and calm. Her silver white hair spread across the pillows like wings of a dove. Viserys realized that his sister was more perfect then his family had ever been.

She was more beautiful than her mother and more gorgeous than her brother. He knew the day Daenerys was older, her beauty would rival no other. Viserys wanted so badly for his little sister to be the happiest little girl in all of Essos and him the richest man so he could shower her with jewels, silk dresses and lovely ornaments for her silver hair.

Instead, all he could do was wrap his numb arms around her slim form and fall into a deep slumber.

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