Game of Thrones: The Red Dragon Lord

Illyrio observed the two siblings before him. Both had silver hair and purple eyes—striking features that marked them unmistakably as Targaryens. Viserys was regal and proud, but it was Daenerys who caught his attention. Her beauty was breathtaking, and her grace was unlike any he had ever seen.

Her skin was like mutton-fat white jade, gleaming softly as though kissed by moonlight. Her silver hair cascaded down her slender back like a waterfall, shimmering with an ethereal glow. Her eyes, deep and amethyst-like, were captivating, full of mystery, while her delicate eyebrows arched like crescent moons, accentuating the allure of her gaze.

Illyrio felt a fleeting stir of admiration, but quickly reined in his emotions. He bowed respectfully to Viserys. "Your Majesty Viserys, it saddens me deeply that the usurper has stolen your throne. Pentos has long maintained strong ties with the Targaryens, dating back to the time of your ancestor, the Conqueror. It is a true honor to meet you. I would like to invite you to Pentos and offer my support."

Viserys straightened, his curiosity piqued. "Governor Illyrio, why would you help me? Aren't you afraid of the usurper's wrath?"

Illyrio smiled kindly, his voice filled with confidence. "Your Majesty, you are the true dragon, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. The people of the Seven Kingdoms long for your return. I believe once you raise your banner, many lords will rally to your cause. I may be a Pentosian, but I am willing to help you reclaim what is yours."

Viserys's chest swelled with excitement at the prospect of his return to Westeros, but he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How many men can you provide for my army? Once I take the throne, I will grant you land in the Seven Kingdoms and make you a prince."

Illyrio hesitated for a moment, knowing he had not yet fully secured his alliance with Khal Drogo. He had only invited the Dothraki leader, but he was confident in his plan's success. "Your Majesty, I regret that I cannot offer you a large army at this moment. I have only some mercenaries and guards at my disposal. However, I have established ties with the Dothraki khalasar. Khal Gorka'ol has agreed to lend you forty thousand cavalry, provided that you marry his daughter, Princess Daenerys, to him."

Viserys's eyes lit up. He turned to Daenerys, who stood silently beside him, and smiled at the thought of securing such an army. He then considered the rumors he had heard about the dragon. "That sounds promising. But the real prize is that dragon of yours, Governor. If I have a dragon, who needs an army?"

Daenerys shivered at the thought of becoming a pawn in her brother's game, her fear growing as the conversation unfolded. The memory of their old life in the house by the sea, when things were simple and happy, seemed like a distant dream. She remembered the times her brother had comforted her, taught her Valyrian, and had even coaxed her to sleep with stories. But after William Darry's death, their world had fallen apart. They were forced to flee, selling whatever little they had left, and Viserys's temper had only grown worse. He now regularly beat and berated her, though she had no choice but to endure it, her dependence on him overwhelming her fear.

She recalled the plan Viserys had told her about last night: "Gavin Belerys has a dragon. The banquet tomorrow is your chance. You must get close to him, make him like you. Once we confirm that he has a dragon, we can kill him and take the beast for ourselves. With the dragon, we will return to Westeros, and I'll take the throne that's rightfully mine."

The thought of killing someone, especially someone like Gavin, filled Daenerys with dread, but Viserys had threatened her until she had no choice but to comply.

Suddenly, Viserys gripped her arm sharply, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Don't daydream, Dany. Now's our chance—let's go."

A Meeting with Gavin

After an unfruitful conversation with Neptune, Gavin excused himself, claiming he wished to sample Braavos' renowned delicacies. He made his way to a table piled high with fruits and meats, his mind still preoccupied with the earlier negotiations.

It was then that Gavin noticed two figures approaching—a pair of Targaryens, both with silver hair and violet eyes, unmistakably royal.

Viserys, with his usual air of arrogance, walked up to Gavin and introduced himself grandly. "Greetings, Sir Gavin. I am Viserys Targaryen III, the rightful King of the Iron Throne. This is my sister, Princess Daenerys Targaryen."

Gavin, sensing Viserys's self-importance, responded with barely concealed sarcasm. "Ah, the exiled Targaryens. I've heard of you."

Viserys's face flushed with embarrassment, his teeth grinding as he tried to maintain composure. "I am the legitimate heir to the Seven Kingdoms. I hear you command a fleet—and a dragon. If you help me reclaim my throne, I will offer you my sister's hand in marriage and grant you lands throughout the Seven Kingdoms."

Gavin smirked lightly, his tone dry. "Thank you for the offer, Viserys. However, one dragon and a fleet hardly seem like enough to conquer Westeros. Even if I had the strength to do so, why would I risk it to help you? Once you have the throne, it seems to me you'd want to keep it for yourself."

Viserys was momentarily stunned into silence, caught off guard by Gavin's blunt response.

Daenerys, her eyes wide with curiosity and excitement, suddenly spoke up. "Sir Gavin, is it true that you own a dragon?"

Gavin smiled softly, the edge of pride evident in his voice. "Yes, it is true. I own a dragon, one with golden scales. His name is Syndor."

Daenerys, unable to hide her excitement, immediately asked, "Can I see him?"

Viserys, sensing an opportunity, quickly interjected. "Even if you do conquer Westeros, you will never sit on the Iron Throne. The Seven Kingdoms only recognize the Targaryen name. It's our bloodline that matters."

Gavin looked at Viserys but said nothing. Instead, he turned to Daenerys with a kind smile. "If you wish to see him, I will take you to him later." Then, addressing Viserys, he added, "Three hundred years ago, the Seven Kingdoms didn't recognize Targaryen rule. Power isn't given—it's taken. If you want help, I can offer it. I may be a descendant of the Valyrian Dragon Kings, and if it's gold you need to improve your situation, I can certainly provide that."