Getting a crown was one thing. Keeping it is quite another. Let's see how our protagonist handles this juggling act, eh? My thanks and appreciation to all who have left reviews. I can scarcely believe how many people have professed their love for my writing. I consider it the highest honor, truly.


If it weren't for my [Sleep is for the Dead] Perk, I'm convinced I'd have collapsed from exhaustion within the first month of my reign. There was just so much to do. I had a populace to win over, criminals to execute, positions to fill, courtiers to appoint, alliances to secure, a city to clean up, an army to feed… it all seemed endless. Still, I knew what I'd signed up for. I wasn't going to balk at the responsibilities of my birthright.

But I'd have appreciated it if it had all come at me just the tiniest bit slower.

The first twenty-four hours were crucial. The first thing I did was have Tywin, Cersei, and Jaime sent to separate sections of the Black Cells. Let them stew while I dealt with more important things. The second thing I did was have Littlefinger tracked down and brought before me. The man had started out trying to win me over when I had stuffed a truth serum down his throat. After all his crimes were recorded by a scribe, including orchestrating the War of Four Kings through the assassination of Jon Arryn, I cut his head off then and there. You don't try to win a game against a master, you knock over the board and knock him out of the running. The third thing I did, in shameless pandering, was have the ridiculously huge wedding feast cooked up for Joffrey and Margaery (consisting of seventy-seven courses, I kid you not) distributed to the people of King's Landing. A little rich food to show off the generosity of their new ruler and as a 'sorry' for having the army come in. After the initial show of force, the Dothraki had returned outside to their camp, while the Unsullied and Westerosi knights were lodged in the Red Keep and the various inns of King's Landing at my own expense.

And that was all before the sun went down.

I arranged for Pycelle to die in his sleep. A little Water magic to affect his blood flow and he fell victim to a perfectly believable heart attack. One Lannister spy taken care of, I immediately sent a raven to the Citadel requesting a new Grand Maester, heavily hinting that Marwyn the Mage was the preferred choice. It would be nice to have a man who didn't scoff at magic working alongside me as my personal physician. And I'm sure I'd win his undying loyalty if I let him experiment with the Elixir of Life.

I arranged an audience with Grand Master Hallyne of the Alchemists' Guild. I ordered that the city be searched for every barrel of the stuff my mad father had hidden in his bid to burn down the city, and all of the 'substance' be stored in a safe place outside the walls of the city. I wasn't going to risk the capital burning down around me, and I was going to need the napalm for devastating the Army of the Dead. Once the orders were out of the way, I had a pleasant conversation with the wisdom. The old pyromancer knew a great many things about Fire that I hadn't had time to experiment with or even think of. I offered him and his entire order pride of place in my Order of Mages, which he accepted.

Repairing the Dragonpit was done in a day with the Philosopher's Stone. Lucifer and Elianna got a proper nest where their food would be cooked and brought up to them, and the smallfolk were made aware that their new king was magical. I managed to secure their love rather than their fear by walking through the city streets, using the Philosopher's Stone to make all the shit and refuse disappear into thin air. By the time I was done, you could eat off the streets of Flea Bottom. Cleaning up centuries of caked-in dirt, excrement, vermin hair, and gods-only-know what else earned me the title of 'Viserys the Purifier'. My magical janitorial sweep not only won me the gratitude and acceptance of the populace but made it so I could go through the city without pinching my nose. It was a win-win.

Invitations to my coronation were sent out by ravens to every House Paramount and minor house, barring those of the Iron Islands. I'd been explicitly clear with Jon that the time had come for that particular kingdom to disappear. The last thing I needed to be worrying about was a civilization off my west coast that actively encouraged piracy. The Iron Islands were to suffer the same fate as that blackened city Daenerys and I had passed on our journey to Vaes Dothrak. Let the Riverlands become the seventh Kingdom, I just wanted the Greyjoys and their populace neutralized. Jon, remembering the chaos of the Greyjoy Rebellion and the horrible attitude of Theon, was inclined to agree. Last we spoke, a few days after my little coup d'état, he'd been about to sack Pyke. I wished him success.

After cleaning out the Iron archipelago, Jon and Pyat Pree were meant to head inland to Torrhen's Square and from there to Winterfell. They would gather what support they could from a disbelieving North on the new King's orders and then travel to the Wall to aid Stannis and the Night's Watch in securing the border. Meanwhile, the Qartheen fleet would circle back around Westeros to King's Landing, where they would wait patiently to escort Drogo's khalasar back to Essos and from there return to Qarth.

Speaking of Drogo, I almost lost him due to a little snag that somehow, in all the chaos, I hadn't had the good sense to predict.

"You sit upon your iron chair, won with my help. Our exchange of gifts is settled. Now I plan to take my wife, sons, and herd back East, not to the North to fight an army of maegi." Drogo's face was carved from stone, he was so implacable.

Dany, standing next to him in the gown of electrum I'd given her as a bride gift, sighed. "I'm sorry, Vis. I keep trying to tell him that the Others will come for us eventually whether we're in Essos or not, but his mind is made up."

"No, no, he raises a good point," I said, my mind racing. I looked down into the face of Visero, whom I was cradling. The fact that Drogo felt confident enough to reject me with his son in my arms spoke of the level of trust he had for me. Not that I would ever hurt my nephew, but still. My namesake was the polar opposite of Rhaego in coloring. He had Dothraki black hair and eyes but had the coloring and refined features of Old Valyria beneath his chubby cheeks. The two were like the sun and moon, and I was sure there would be some sort of mythos around that as they both grew into fearsome Dothraki warriors. Whether Visero would form his own khal or be bloodrider to Rhaego would be decided with time, far in the future in a time when the problems of today would be long solved.

"Tell me, Drogo, son of Bharbo… has any khalasar fought a White Walker?" I said, pulling stuff out my ass and hoping my stats would convert it into a winning speech. "Can any khal boast that he has ridden in the Land of Always Winter? Has any Dothraki even seen their city, their temples, their treasures and carried them back to Vaes Dothrak?"

Drogo narrowed his eyes. "… No."

"I'm not asking you help me fight the Army of the Dead because they are a threat to you, or because I'm asking you as a brother. I'm asking you to cement yourself as the khal who traveled to two lands never seen before. You will have not only have crossed the poison water, but the great Wall of the Andals into the place where the dead walk and creatures of ice rule. Your screamers will have trampled foes no other khal has ever seen or heard of, and never will again. And you will carry back to the dosh khaleen the relics of a civilization the world has long forgotten." I smiled winningly. "What do you say?"

Praise be to 10 Charisma and 100 Speech, Drogo smiled. Glad to know that I hadn't outfitted his khalasar with shiny new weapons for nothing.


While my coronation was held off by the travel times of all the major lords, I was still the de facto king. Which meant two things: I needed a Kingsguard and a Small Council.

Ser Barristan, restored to his youth, and the officially pardoned Ser Jorah were already clad in white. Jorah found it the height and irony and amusement that he'd left a disgraced exile and had returned with one of the highest honors in the land. I'd warned him that he'd probably never see Dany again except for visits, and he'd girded himself and nodded anyway. He'd known their love was doomed. She was just so happy with Drogo.

The rest of my Kingsguard, I had a fair idea about. I inducted Ser Loras Tyrell straight away. He was a bit iffy since I'd kidnapped his sister and widowed her the same day, but Margaery's own words and defense of my character convinced him to agree. Speaking of the lovely lady, we'd become fast friends. She forgave me for the part I'd forced her to play in blackmailing Tywin, recognizing it as the smart thing to do. In the chaos of being king, I made time to have audiences in her, where we talked about everything and nothing. I started to truly care for her. I think Loras was aware of our burgeoning relationship and was half the reason he agreed to join. He thought she was going to be my Queen and wanted to be around to look after his little sister. I understood the sentiment completely.

Thoros of Myr became the fourth member. All he needed was to hear the words 'Azor Ahai' and he was falling over himself to swear loyalty to me. Beric Dondarrion might have resented me stealing his red priest, but personally I think he was relieved. From what I remembered from the books, the guy was getting a little sick and tired of being constantly resurrected.

The other two took some hunting down. I proclaimed an official pardon for the crimes of Sandor Clegane and Brienne of Tarth, summoning them to King's Landing for an audience. Brienne showed up, bound by her honor to answer my summons. She gave an impassioned plea that she was not guilty in the first place, which I agreed to. I informed her of Melisandre and her role in Renly's assassination. I made her understand that the shadow-binder still had a role to play, but she would pay for her crime in time. Brienne, ruffled feathers soothed, almost swooned when I offered her a position in my Kingsguard. I told her I didn't care she was a woman, merely that she was a competent fighter and a person of honor. She accepted straight away. Sandor needed to be tracked down and brought in, but he was found as well. I gave him a sip of Elixir and suddenly I owned him. The ability to look himself in the mirror was a priceless treasure he'd spend the rest of his life trying to repay.

The seventh member, I left up to the people. I declared a tourney, paid for with the unlimited amount of gold I was able to literally pull out of thin air. For the record, I had already paid off the Iron Bank of Braavos. I'd sent them five ships packed to the gills with gold dragons, printed with my likeness on one side, completely valid tender as far as anyone who didn't know magic had a hand in their creation was concerned. The city prospered from the influx of visitors and their gold, and I won a little more of the public's heart by coming up with a fun way to fill the last slot in my bodyguard. I allowed the dismissed members of Joffrey's Kingsguard to participate. After a long day of feasting and jousting, Ser Balon Swann wound up winning, and he named Daenerys the Queen of Love and Beauty. That was good enough for me. I offered the man his white cloak back, and he accepted. Duty was all he'd known, and all he wanted to know.

That taken care of, I turned to the Small Council.

Doran Martell was shipped up and named Hand of the King. I truly trusted him. I had his undying loyalty from avenging his sister. Ser Gregor Clegane had been executed by yours truly in front of the Great Sept of Baelor, the truth of what he'd done to Elia and her children spewing from his drugged lips.

Oberyn and Ellaria invited me to dinner that night. If I hadn't had so much practice topping Sezgin and Selenia, they might have overpowered me. As it was, I showed the Red Viper and his Viperess a thing or two about what a dragon could do in the bedroom. I also offered to legitimize Ellaria and their daughters, so they could get married. That won me a second night of fun.

Ser Barristan Selmy was my Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, so he got his old seat back.

The Master of Coin, as promised, went to Illyrio Mopatis. He sailed in from Pentos as soon as he heard I had secured the throne. The court wagged their tongues at an Essosi merchant getting one of the highest honors in the land, but a promise was a promise. My Master of Whisperers, Varys, certainly appreciated his boyfriend joining him on the Small Council. Especially after a sip of Elixir gave Varys his cock back.

The again resolved to look into legalizing gay marriage. Would the High Septon and the entire Faith rebel if I proposed it, even with dragons to reinforce my rule? I'd have to do some research.

My Master of Laws went, surprise surprise, to Tyrion Lannister. I got to know the dwarf during my time in the capital, reassuring myself that he was the same good egg in person as he was in the series. Then I named him Lord of Casterly Rock, fed him some Elixir of Life, and asked if he'd also mind being the enforcer of the King's Justice throughout the land. The newly six-foot man had fallen over himself saying yes.

Speaking of the Lannisters, Tyrion had Kevan sent back to be his castellan. The man was overwhelmed by his family's change in fortune, but he'd bowed his head and agreed to the bidding of his nephew and new King. I had Tywin executed after confessing all his sins, same as Littlefinger and the Giant. Jaime was sent off along with every prisoner in the cells and half my Unsullied to the Wall to join the Night's Watch. Cersei was sent to join the Silent Sisters on threat of execution otherwise for her conspiracy against Robert. She seemed shocked when I punished her for that. In the end, she loved life too much, and agreed. That left little Tommen as my guest in the castle, and Myrcella still safe down in Dorne.

True to my wishes, Marwyn was sent to be Grand Maester and representative of the Citadel. We had long, vibrant talks about the nature of magic, life, biology, and every other fascinating subject. He went nuts experimenting with Elixir and glow-of-the-dawn, trying to crack the mystery of magic through the scientific method. He settled right in.

As for my Master of Ships, I as waiting on Davos Seaworth to return South. Stannis should be pleased, even if it meant 'losing' a trusted servant, at a friend rising so high in life.

More on Stannis, I had given him an enchanted mirror and kept in contact with him and Melisandre. They had just arrived at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and were making their way along the Wall to Castle Black. I stressed to him that the wildlings had to be contained, but it was the Army of the Dead that was the real concern. I gave him the crucial assignment of capturing at least one wight and sending it South to King's Landing. I'd need physical evidence of the walking dead to rally the Houses to commit their forces on a mad charge North.

For the most part, all the loose ends were tied up. Months passed in a blink, and before I knew it the day came where I was crowned in the Great Sept by the High Septon himself.

A great feast was held both in the Red Keep and throughout the city. I wasn't going to have the Sparrows coming after me. Every time there was a shindig at the castle, there would be one in the city as well. I had no trouble hiring as many chefs as I wanted, with my golden touch. Plus, Lucifer and Elianna were still as much an attraction as they'd been in Qarth. The feast was held in the Throne Room, and there were entertainers, musicians, and dancing aplenty. I wanted the Red Keep to be filled with light and laughter at all times.

I met and conferred with all the major lords and ladies.

Daenerys and Drogo were in attendance and proved to be quite the source of gossip with their open affection. If they only knew. The two were being positively chaste by their usual standards. The presence of a Dothraki khal and khaleesi prompted many questions on the foreign culture. Dany, being the more patient and more fluent in Common, handled most of the questions. Drogo just enjoyed the free food and drink.

I met with Edmure of House Tully and Lord of Riverrun, giving him my word that his lands would be restored. I endured spending time with Walder Frey, whom had gotten off his wrinkly ass to attend. I seriously considered having Lucifer have an 'accident' at the Twins, but I held off. The Red Wedding hadn't happened in this timeline, and never would. Though perhaps tonight would be the night age finally claimed the old sex addict.

Doran, Oberyn, and the other Martells were given seats of honor considering the role their House played in securing my reign. Arianne drunkenly asked me if she could see my cock to compare it to Jon's. I resisted temptation and tucked her into her father's side.

Lysa Arryn, Regent of the Vale since her son was currently tucked asleep in his guest room, was on her best behavior considering she was in mourning. Losing Littlefinger, rather than sending her over the edge, seemed to have robbed all the manic energy out of her. I didn't discount the possibility that Littlefinger had been poisoning her to make her more malleable. I had a discussion with her about having Marwyn examine her son's health and assuring her that he would be Warden of the East and Lord of the Vale when he came of age. I got a sad little smile from the mother for my troubles. Maybe a touch of Elixir would do the boy good. And hopefully a royal edict would be enough to stop with the damn breastfeeding at age 8.

I met with the minor lords of the Stormlands, Stannis absence keenly felt. I'd really have to get on him about getting around to popping out a son at some point. At this rate, I'd have to track down one of Robert's bastards and legitimize him lest one of the Kingdoms' House Paramount was left extinct.

The Reach involved meeting Olenna, who lived up to her title as the 'Queen of Thorns'. She was a cantankerous old bitch, but she was sharp as a tack and knew how to play the game of thrones like a pro. I survived the encounter with all but my word that I'd marry Margaery when the time was right.

I made a point of checking in on Selenia and Sezgin. The two's place in court was a bit in limbo. I'd finally settled on having them start a Temple to the Lord of Light and explaining to the court they were 'close friends' to explain their presence. I made no secret of Artemys' parentage, and had by royal decree named her Artemys Targaryen, First of Her Name, Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. If anyone had an issue with me legitimizing my bastard daughter, Lucifer's bulk looming in my shadow was enough to silence them.

Finally, I got to the man I'd wanted to speak to all night.

"Lord Eddard Stark," I greeted with a nod. "I'm honestly surprised you showed up in person. After what happened last time, I half expected you to swear never to set foot in King's Landing ever again."

"I very nearly did," came the gruff reply. Damn, the guy really did look like Sean Bean. "But I had to see the dragons for myself."

"You could have waited until I came North. Jon explained to you the situation with the Others, yes?"

Ned bit his lip and shifted his weight, hiding a wince when it fell on his bum leg at a bad angle. "I hardly recognized my nephew when I saw him last. And the things that came out his mouth were… difficult to swallow. If I hadn't seen you work your sorcery in broad daylight, I'd have long since discounted him."

"The other Houses will be even more skeptical. That's why Jon and Stannis are at the Wall instead of celebrating with us here. They need to get proof and send it back. Then we can gather ourselves and repel an invasion out of a nightmare." I eyed his leg, and waved a hand over my goblet. "Care for a drink?"

"Is this the infamous Elixir I've heard so much about?"

"Try it and find out."

With a touch of skepticism, the Warden of the North sipped the enchanted liquid. His eyes widened and he regarded his leg with awe. He'd have to wait until he got to a mirror (looking glass, sorry), but there were many less lines on his face as well. Hmm, would have to offer the same to Catelyn. Wouldn't want them to be uneven. They were one of those couples that gave you faith in love, they should enjoy a second bout of youth together. Rickon would not be the last Stark of this generation, I'd bet.

The party was interrupted by the sound of a war horn.

I froze. That sound was full of magic. Like an earthquake felt from miles away, I sensed a great collapse in the distance, as if a structure so permanent I'd mistaken it for the border of the world had broken into pieces.

"What was that?" was one of the dozens of questions asked in the wake of that fateful sound.

I gave a burst of Fire to draw attention. "The Horn of Winter has been blown. The Wall is gone. We must prepare."


Turns out, even the word of a magic-wielding King is nothing if not backed up by cold, hard evidence. Despite my sincerest efforts, the Houses would not call their banners and prepare for the journey North. Not until multiple ravens came corroborating the fact. Even then, most saw the Wall as a glorified penal colony. Warm after a decade-long summer in the humid South, none believed in tales of the White Walkers.

I contacted Stannis within ten minutes of leaving the party. "Tell me that wasn't what I think it was."

"I'm afraid it was. Damn lucky that we were on the ground when it happened. The whole Wall is rubble. Ice and rock piled like mountainous hills. We'll be digging out Castle Black for months."

"Forget Castle Black. Consider this a royal mandate. Retreat South to Winterfell the instant you capture a wight. Send it ahead in a cage drawn by the fastest team of horses you can find. I need to rally the Kingdoms yesterday."

"As you command, Viserys."

I sensed frustration and no small amount of fear. "Know this, Stannis. If you die up there, then Storm's End goes to Edric Storm. I'm sure you don't want that."

"… Understood." Well, judging by the fire in his eyes, I'd found the magic words. He'd fight like a madman to keep his family's ancestral seat of power out of the hands of a mere bastard.

After the call with him, I rang up Jon. "Jon Targaryen! Tell me you're safe."

"I am. I was on Winter when it happened."

"Anything you can tell me?"

"It sounded… well, like it came from everywhere. But I could swear that it came from the North first. It couldn't have been the wildlings. We have Mance Rayder and his entire army under arrest and held just outside the wall. Thanks for the Unsullied by the way, they were a gods-send."

"No problem." My mind raced. "Damn it, it must be Winter. They saw that we have a dragon and they decided that they weren't going to play around. Look, get back to camp…"

I was interrupted by a scream of pain.

"WINTER!"

"JON!"

I watched with horror as the mirror tumbled and flashed between white earth and grey sky before shattering in my hands.

"Damn it all to hell!"

The scene where Viserion had been downed by a spear in the show flashed through my head.

"Please no," I prayed. "I don't care who's listening. Just please don't let me lose him."

The next few weeks were torture. I tried to focus on kingly matters as much as I could, but every fiber of my being wanted to hop on Lucifer and fly North fast as the wind to check on Jon and see whether he was alive or dead, or worse than dead. I forced myself to work through some small, trivial matters. Implementing a sewer system and diverting water from nearby rivers to make public bathhouses. Restructuring the Goldcloaks and improving public security. Clearing the wreckage out of Blackwater Bay once and for all.

Finally, the day came when the cage arrived. The wight inside was years old. Black, corrupt flesh showed from the gash in its stomach that had disemboweled it. Its nose and quite a few fingers had fallen off from frostbite. All the same, it moved and bit and screamed like every zombie you ever saw.

I had every Lord and Lady look at it in my Throne Room before sending it off to the Citadel for study. "Do you believe me now?" I asked the silent room.

No one dared answer me. The rage was all but radiating off me. I might actually have raised the temperature a few degrees, my Fire was so close to the surface.

"Call the banners. I march North tomorrow with the Dothraki and Unsullied. You lot can follow behind us. We'll gather at Winterfell." I waited a beat. "What are you waiting for?!"

They scurried and fled.

"Vis," Dany said, laying a hand on my shoulder. I resisted the urge to shake it off by my last thread of patience. "He's alive."

"How can you be sure?"

"I can't. But there's no way of knowing. So until I've seen his body, I'll go on believing he's whole and well."

"… Right. Right. No news is good news." I cradled my head in my hands. "Please, gods above, let it be good news."


Something inside of me says to cut if off there. So that's what I'll do. Apologies for the short length. The climax of the story should be next chapter, followed by whatever zany adventures I make up for Viserys to do in the post-game. Until the next update!