A/N: Sorry for not posting for the last couple of days, this week has been a nightmare to me.
"This is precisely why I called you," Viserys said.
"What do you mean, Father?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone was meek.
Viserys looked at her for a brief moment before he turned towards the skull of Balerion, surrounded by dozens of small candles.
His grip on Dark Sister became tighter. "When you look at this," he pointed towards the skull. "What do you think, my daughter?"
Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes and tilted her head in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand the question."
Viserys sighed. "Dragons, Rhaenyra, what do you think of dragons. When you look at 'him', the last living being to have seen Valyria, what thoughts echo inside your mind?"
Rhaenyra took a step forward, her eyes fixed on the black bones, the jagged and sharp teeth—all of the size of a sword. She closed her eyes, trying to picture the beast as it once was.
She felt her head lighten, and when she reopened her eyes, she was no longer standing beside her father. She was in the middle of a beach. The sound of crashing waves. The salty scent of the sea. It was all so frighteningly real she thought, for a moment, that she truly stood there. She would have continued to think so, were it not for the sound that followed.
A roar so deafening that it could shake entire forests echoed inside her mind. A shadow so vast it could cover entire castles. Black as night, covered in scales harder than steel, a small mountain rose and looked straight at her. The red eyes focused on the small figure of Rhaenyra. It opened its massive mouth and breathed flames towards her. Black and red fire engulfed her, yet she felt no heat.
The moment she opened her eyes again, she was once more by her father's side.
Viserys looked towards his daughter curiously. He noticed how her eyes shone with a subtle light for a fraction of a second. How she was gasping for air. The sweat that fell from her forehead.
"And? What is your answer, Rhaenyra?" He asked.
Rhaenyra took in a sharp breath, calming herself. "I see us." She answered.
Viserys frowned. "Elaborate."
"When I think of dragons, when I see Balerion's skull. I think of us, the Targaryens." She looked towards her father's eyes before continuing. "The people think of us as if we were gods. But we are simple men and women, like all others. What sets us apart… is our dragons. The bond we share with them, actually."
Viserys studied his daughter for a couple of seconds. His silence made Rhaenyra worry and wonder if she had given him the wrong answer. But before long, Viserys smiled proudly.
"You are right. The dragons are what made the Targaryens worthy of sitting in the Iron Throne for a century." Then he looked towards Rhaenyra, his expression dead serious. "Dragons are the greatest power, whether in Westeros or Essos. That we can wield their might is the greatest blessing of House Targaryen, but it is also our greatest curse."
Rhaenyra looked at her father. "What do you mean by 'curse', father?"
Viserys changed the hand that held the sword, and with his now free hand, he placed it atop Rhaenyra's head. "We may share a bond with dragons, Rhaenyra, but we do not control them. Remember that, daughter. Always. For it may one day save your life."
Rhaenyra nodded, taking the words to heart and making sure that she would remember them forevermore.
"Your answer has reassured me, my daughter. For I now know you carry the wisdom to bear the burden of what I am about to say." Viserys turned towards the candles once more. "But before I speak any further, I must ask you… Do you even wish to bear this weight?"
Rhaenyra swallowed dry. "The weight of what Father?"
Viserys placed his hand on the handle of a dagger that rested snugly on his belt. The dagger itself was shaped in the shape of a dragon's fang. "Of Aegon's prophecy."
"Prophecy?" Rhaenyra asked.
"Like a Daenys the dreamer, Aegon too had a dragon dream. But his was a heavier one. So, I must once again ask… Do you wish to bear the burden of this knowledge, my daughter?"
The young girl clenched her fists; her thoughts were tumultuous. "Why? Why are you telling me about this?"
Viserys' eyes grew a bit distant, as if he were looking far beyond the walls of the chamber. "Because of your brother," Viserys said quietly.
Rhaenyra clenched tighter, her nails digging into the skin of her palms, drawing blood. "What about him?" Her tone was a mixture of anger and hurt.
Viserys saw through his daughter and sighed. "If you want to blame someone, Rhaenyra, you should blame me. Your brother is innocent."
"But-… I-… He-" She stammered, choking a sob.
"He and you are the last legacies of your mother. The gifts Aemma left for this world. If you must hate someone, if you must blame someone, that person should be me. Your brother will need his sister."
"Why?" Rhaenyra hiccupped as a small tear ran down her cheeks. "What does he have to do with any of this about prophecies?" She asked.
Viserys sighed. "I don't know whether Antarys is part of Aegon's prophecy. But what I do know is that your brother will face challenges. Many of them. He will face wars unlike any others."
"How can you know that?" Rhaenyra questioned.
"It was something I said to your mother, the night before she died." Viserys looked in Rhaenyra's eyes. 'She looks so much like her mother…' he thought sadly. "I dreamt of the son she and I would have. I dreamt of many things, but most of all I dreamt of swords clashing against swords and shields bashing against shields. So many of them I couldn't even count. That, Rhaenyra, is how I know."
"And what do I have to do with any of this?" She asked.
"Because if your brother is to face any of this and survive. He will need a pillar of support. A haven against the storm. A strong shoulder to rely on." Viserys took in a sharp breath. "He will need you."
Rhaenyra nodded; her expression was resolute. "I'm ready, I want to hear it."