" โ except you're never done. ~ " he jestfully almost- interrupted, smirk faintly tugging at corner of his lips. The air fortunately, grasped on a whiff of so much-needed playfulness, and it indeed could remain so if only Daemon wouldn't choose to continue with his proactive approach to counter a member of a certain house.
What Daemon uttered seemed to anchor in Viserysโs mind like a dissonant chord, deep-seated underscoring. The coolness of the stone beneath him felt perceivable, a twinge of perplexity grounding him amidst the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind. Fair brow-line furrowed as he processed the other's claim, then suddenly โ- truth dawned upon him.
The first of his name crossed arms over chest when turning around, voice steady but strained, rather than betraying the instinct to defend his choices, it was full of realization when he finally replied, " This isn't about two of us anymore, isn't it ... " - and it wasn't even a question anymore.
Otto this and Otto that, this rhubarb squabble and the smoulder of it, however diminishing, kept going on longer than it ever needed. The unyielding specter of green loomed large in the recesses of their conversation, and Daemon always so eager to instill a knack of worry, regarded his every memory with a torch.
" If you weren't my brother, " he replied, skepticism layered into his tone, " I'd almost think you are jealous. What is there actually to see? I am acting exactly according to that, and I'm sure you know why. "
The picture of mere people suffering due to their familyโs rivalry anchored heavily on the King; he envisioned the nobles in the court, swayed easily by the tides of power, and no one was excluded ...
" Imagine my awareness piqued, brother, just because I don't voice certain things right away doesn't mean I don't know about them; I am not blind. I know he's prideful; thus, his ambitions must be kept in check. Aside from that, I merely happen to value individuality guided by diplomacy that envisions my desire for peace and stability. Which brings me back to another root of why I haven't named you this whole time - he simply managed well where you couldn't; you should stop seeking personal issues behind that and perhaps look at things the other way. " - like what could be done to fix what was broken or led them to this point. The crucial part of self-reflection needed to consists of two pages.
Whether he was becoming attached to Hightower Ser or not was certainly not his business; either way, Viserys disliked Daemon's tone by pointing out something else here, and the elder Targaryen was brisk to maneuver out from that, for the conversation had tipped the scales. The retort was unmistakably more laced with ironic amusement, dancing around their shared history where Viserys felt more rush, warming his annoyance.
The following silence hung heavily, it only charged the clash of wills.
Viserys met his gaze, frustration mingling with concern, as he shot back, " If one does something for someone genuinely ... he won't be surged by the urge to brag about it, I find significance in that. You were always there, you just refuse to see it. "
Viserys was exhausted. What more strength did he have to keep fighting both the crows flying over to feast on his corpse and his own blood, where he constantly had to question where loyalty lay ... ? Especially with such behavior? Honestly, what else was he supposed to think?
By taking a deep breath, he drew strength from within and instead of thanking him ( like seriously how many times he did already? ), he reminded the Rogue-brat by slight shake from his complacency, " I did not want your crown, Daemon, nor mine, nor anyone's. I just wanted us all to be well and happy, that's it. " And this calmer response was a pure, raw reflection of his character; determined to direct the conversation away from their personal grievances. And while yes, his personality clashed with Viserys' more measured approach to rulership, this razor's edge called circle of merit was causing naught but deep rifts in bonds.
As he joined his side, Viserys kept looking him in the eye intently, remembering their childhood, filled with laughter and dreams of a future they imagined together, free from the constraints of adulthood. How many times he stood for him, and how many times he pulled him from troubles. Viserys deeply cared for Daemon; there was no second doubt about that. But the ever-patient one remained locked in internal debate, skimming through layers that brought complexity to the brotherhood, and while head physicians kept searching for the cure or at least something to alleviate his symptoms, potential uncertainty loomed just beyond their reach, where the wishful prophet struggled to grapple with its weight.
But finally he found the words that had been trapped inside him, '' I shall remember them, despite him not being in the court; it shouldn't ever come to that. ''
