Viserys was talking about the Three-Eyed Crow more and more. He felt that as a son of House Targaryen, it was unconscionable for him not to help the Targaryens in the end, but instead to bestow his abilities upon Bran Stark—why should his brother's son, Aegon Targaryen, be exiled beyond the Wall, while Bran Stark got to be king by default? This terrible ending shouldn't be the true course of history, right?
The more he spoke, the more indignant he became, and his brain heated up, beginning to threaten: Just you wait, Greensight, if there's a fate like my brother dying at the Trident, then I'll destroy everything on this continent and make them all pay. I know how to let the White Walkers Night King cross the Wall! Viserys the Avenger will offer the Ice Dragon to the Night King, and I want to watch everyone die—
The Three-Eyed Crow, who had been listening, had had enough. With a clang, a portrait hanging above the king's bed in the King's Tower suddenly fell, hitting Viserys on the head. His eyes rolled, and he immediately lost consciousness—
In the dark, black chaos, the little prince sat cross-legged, reflecting on whether he had offended his ancestors with his loose tongue. He heard the sound of flapping wings—
"Ah!" The little prince cried out in pain; he was pecked hard by a huge raven that suddenly appeared! The raven was rampant on his head, claws grasping at a strand of his silver hair! Pain! Pain!! Why was it really painful even in a dream? The little prince was teary-eyed, struggling to wave his hands in vain, and jumped up to run! But the raven swooped down with a burst of acceleration and gave him another hard peck.
Don't! Don't! Viserys saw the raven's bright three eyes clearly and immediately understood that he had really caused trouble—this one could monitor from afar, and it seemed that his secret complaints had all been heard, right?
"Lord Bloodraven! Lord Bloodraven! Senior! I am wholeheartedly trying to change fate! You are also a member of House Targaryen! Are you willing to see the future of the family's destruction? Can't you lend a helping hand?" He simply gave up running and shouted directly. "My brother and I are both descendants of your brother, Daeron!"
The raven circled, landing in the darkness. Then, its wings fell off, and the figure of a man in a cloak emerged. He had milky-white skin, bone-white hair that emitted a cold light, and long hair that covered his forehead, revealing only one red eye. He said coldly, Bloodraven's emotions as a human were insignificant compared to the vastness of history, and could no longer affect me.
"Why are you pecking at me if you can't influence anything?" Viserys thought, staring up at the famous Bloodraven, the Three-Eyed Crow. He then bowed his head. "It's alright. You're more objective and detached, aren't you? Excellent. That's always been your strength, my lord, and I admire you for it."
"What do you admire?"
"Everything. Your several rebellions quelled, the droughts you dealt with, your time as Hand of the King, sacrificing your honor and standing to eliminate threats, luring Aegor Rivers to King's Landing to be beheaded. From a higher perspective, all those actions were correct, maintaining stability, forward-thinking. The Targaryen dynasty—if I may speak for them—wants to say, thank you for your efforts. It's a shame about Aegon V's decision to punish you; he grew up with Duncan and was too much a knight, not enough a king."
"Am I without conscience?" Bloodraven asked coldly.
Viserys choked, raking a hand through his messy hair. He said honestly, "Each thing has its own merit. You were indeed the cornerstone of the dynasty's stability before. Your merits endure in the eyes of those who understand, like myself—but after you gained the Greensight… since you saw the Targaryens' downfall, couldn't you have helped a little?" He gestured with his fingers, showing a tiny amount.
"For instance… let the Starks see a live record of Lyanna and my brother falling in love, getting properly married… with the child as the first in line… then the Starks wouldn't have gone mad and sought death. Would the Usurper's War even have happened?"
The lord's red eyes fixed on him. "And where did you see the Starks' deaths, and Rhaegar's death, and the Targaryens' downfall?"
Viserys sighed. "Just say I had a long dream when I was five. What I saw in that dream was terrible, but also real, and I don't want it to happen, not even in death."
"I know," Bloodraven said. "The future I saw before should have been the content of your dreams. However, since you started to disrupt everything, from the moment Aerys decided Rhaegar wouldn't marry the Dornish princess, what I see has changed."
Viserys's face lit up. Adding the Sorceress to the equation meant it was practically guaranteed that his brother Rhaegar would ascend the throne! He tentatively asked, "So... in the new future, the next king is Rhaegar I?"
"The person you love the most will become the greatest king."
Viserys's little face practically glowed! He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on his hips and burst out laughing.
The Duke Bloodraven looked at the little prince, who still didn't understand anything, and poured cold water on his joy. "I once loved a brother, hated a brother, and desired a woman. Little prince, you, on the other hand, only love your only brother, and your desires and hatred all stem from him and revolve around him. He will become king. But fate will not easily forgive those who change it, and you will pay a heavy price for it. Are you prepared?"
Does he mean that I don't have other brothers and don't desire women? That was normal. He answered frankly, "I don't plan to marry in this life, and my lands are just tools. I'm willing to return them to the Crownlands after achieving my goals, so I don't need to inherit a title. I only ask to stay by my brother's side, to be a Kingsguard or serve as the Hand of the King like you. To live in the Tower of the Hand and see my brother every day—I will serve my brother and his descendants with the same loyalty as you served your brother Daeron. Wealth, fame, and status, I don't care about the price."
Bloodraven's red eyes seemed to be weeping blood. He sighed. "The price you will pay is far heavier than mine. The new world you lay the foundation for is unprecedented. Your beloved brother will see his great-grandchildren on the throne. This is what I see now."
Viserys's ears naturally filtered out the price, only focusing on the new world and his brother Rhaegar's future. He was elated and became more demanding. "Lord Bloodraven, can I take your Dark Sister? You don't need it now, and I want to give it to the greatest king, the current Crown Prince Rhaegar!"
The Three-Eyed Crow didn't say a word. Instead, it transformed into a three-eyed raven and circled above Viserys's head. The raven cawed, its voice sounding human, "Only those who can claim Dark Sister are worthy to touch it. Viserys, go. You know your destination. Once you have Dark Sister, I will give you the Blackfyre."
Viserys awoke with a start. Was it a dream? He saw the broken portrait that had fallen on his head, depicting Bloodraven, the 995th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. And, several strands of his own hair were torn out, lying there glistening on a jet-black feather----it was really a Three-Eyed Crow! It had activated a panoramic view, monitoring everything, and it had even communicated with him mentally!
He flopped back onto the bed, closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth. He had to get those two Valyrian steel swords. Perfect, then Blackfyre naturally belonged to his brother, and he would use Dark Sister! Besides, he had long wanted to learn the swordplay of the Braavosi Water Dancers, and the techniques of the Faceless Men from the House of Black and White, to change his face at any time! How cool was that? Going to Essos had so many attractions, he persuaded himself, go, go!
The only thing that made him reluctant to leave Westeros was his brother----I want to be with my brother, but not to be sheltered under his wings. I want to be his shield against the storm, his sword to slay his enemies. To lead troops and quell rebellions, to strategize together!
And there were quite a few people competing with him for this most important position. Arthur Dayne, Jon Connington----at least, I have to be as outstanding as them, right?
A few years of separation were for a long-lasting companionship in the future. Viserys said to himself, When I return after my studies, I will never have to leave again. When I can fight like Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, and be as perceptive as to see through any ambush, then I will be qualified, like Queen Visenya guarding Aegon, to protect my brother!
He began planning his trip. After bidding farewell to the Night's Watch and returning to Winterfell, Viserys picked up his pen and wrote another heartfelt letter to his brother.
"My dearest brother, when you see this letter brought by the raven, I will have already left the cold lands and begun my journey south. I'm sorry, brother, I won't be returning to King's Landing for the time being. Heaven knows how deeply I suppressed my longing to make this decision, brother. I've learned a lot on this trip. I saw Uncle Aemon, stationed at the Wall, give up his power for the sake of his brother's claim to the throne. Former Commander Bloodraven did not hesitate to destroy his honor to support the bloodline of his beloved brother, Daeron. I also thought of someone even further back, Prince Daemon, the king's most favored brother, who once gathered an army to support his brother's claim to the throne, planning to fight the Lord of the Tides. Faced with these people, I deeply reflected on what I could do for you. I don't want to always be that cute little brother, just lying on your lap, listening to you play the harp. I yearn to be knowledgeable and able to talk with you, but I can't compare to Dominic. I hope to be a strong man, but you already have Arthur Dayne by your side. I want even more to be able to plan and work with you like Jon Connington, but I don't have a fiefdom yet, and my resources are limited. After much thought, I have decided to quietly hone myself, like the people in the Ranger stories you sent me to read, like Aegon who followed Ser Duncan. I want to travel, to experience the lives of the people, and to understand what role I want to play, staying by your side. ---
"Brother, please don't be angry with my impetuosity. I fear your anger most of all, and I wish I could grab hold of your robes and beg for forgiveness—you would still cup my cheeks, kiss me gently, and look at me with tender eyes, promising, wouldn't you? By the Seven, my dearest brother, when I return from my travels, enlightened, I will stay by your side and never leave again. I miss you, brother. I will catch the blowing wind and kiss it, praying it carries my blessings to the Red Keep, straight to my brother's side. I will tell the murmuring streams and rivers, go, go, all the way to Blackwater Bay. Brother, if your long hair is tousled by the wind, that's me wanting to touch you. If you see whirlpools on the water's surface, that's me wanting to throw myself into your arms. My most beloved brother, no matter where Viserys goes, a part of him is always by your side."
The letter was brought to Rhaegar by raven. As he read it, the green shadows of the godswood were stirred by the summer wind, and the finest lemons from Highgarden had arrived. The Crown Prince felt a bitterness in the lemon's fragrance for the first time. He set down the letter, rose with a sigh, and looked towards Blackwater Bay flowing beneath the castle. Indeed, the waves were swirling with eddies, rushing into the sea.
How could his longing be conveyed to his brother? The Crown Prince studied the letter repeatedly, his purple eyes clouded with melancholy. His brother, comparing himself to Jon and the others? He didn't know that there was no need to compare—Arthur and Jon were friends and confidantes, but Viserys… He was so clever, yet he was troubled and confused about his place.
This is all my fault.
Rhaegar felt truly despicable. He treated his brother affectionately, fantasizing about him growing up—this was how he comforted himself, but he was sorry to his innocent brother who didn't understand love but was filled with sincerity! He knew that he could never marry his beloved, could never speak his name in front of the Great Sept of Baelor, so why was he acting in secret, misleading him with a love that could not be revealed?
I… crave the forbidden to happen, I crave that he may love me as I love him one day.
Rhaegar closed his eyes. This was wrong. He was a selfish man!
Reason made the Crown Prince alert, and he resolved to control himself—what else could he give him to compensate? The title of Prince of Summerhall? How meager—his beloved brother, his secret lover, at least I want to give you freedom to roam, the freedom to love and hate without restraint.
Rhaegar sat back down, alone, as he deserved. He took a large gulp of lemon juice, letting the bitter fragrance fill his senses. He tried not to dwell on the possibility that his younger brother might grow up like the knights in the stories, traveling, falling in love with a girl, and taking her hand to make vows. It would be fair, wouldn't it?