Game of Thrones: The Red Dragon Lord

Night had fallen, casting the room in shadows. Gavin lay on his soft bed, his thoughts a tangled mess. His eyes flickered in the darkness as his mind wandered to the Faceless Men and the looming threat of their attack.

He considered an idea that had surfaced earlier: capturing and interrogating the envoy of Lys. He now knew where the man resided, and executing the plan would be easy. Yet this was Braavos, the Sea King's territory. Such an act would be a grave affront to Neptune, who, despite his morally ambiguous character, had been a gracious host.

Gavin's thoughts drifted to another problem: the Valyrian family sword resting in the Sea King's treasury. He had spent hours brainstorming ways to retrieve it but had come up with nothing feasible. Stealing it outright—especially by dragon—seemed unthinkable in this precarious political landscape.

While lost in these ruminations, the soft sound of a door creaking open startled him. Turning his head, he saw Daenerys stepping into the room.

The moonlight streamed in behind her, illuminating her silver-white hair and the delicate silhouette of her form through the sheer fabric of her white gauze nightgown. Gavin swallowed, momentarily captivated by her beauty.

Blushing, Daenerys walked toward him and stopped beside the bed. The two locked eyes, a quiet yet profound emotion passing between them.

"I'm a little scared to be alone," she murmured, before slipping under the covers and into Gavin's arms.

Surprised, Gavin hesitated but then held her close, saying nothing.

After a long moment, Daenerys broke the silence. "I'm sorry, Gavin. My brother...he wanted to—"

"Wanted me to help him take my dragon," Gavin interrupted, his voice steady but tinged with bitterness.

Daenerys's eyes widened in shock. "You knew?"

Gavin gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't be afraid. It's no secret that Viserys would go to any length to reclaim the Iron Throne. It doesn't surprise me that he had such plans."

Her voice was soft and unsure as she asked, "Then why would you agree to marry me?"

Gavin gently stroked her hair. "Because of you. And besides, Viserys could never take my dragon." He chuckled softly. "Don't worry, Daenerys. I understand you had no choice in this, and I don't hold it against you."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she whispered, "Thank you, Gavin."

In the quiet of the night, the two held each other until sleep claimed them.

The Next Morning

Tyron Rayyan arrived at Gavin's seaside villa, pacing nervously in the garden. Gavin, holding Daenerys's hand, emerged to greet him.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting," Gavin said politely.

Tyron bowed slightly. "No need to apologize, Sir Gavin. I come on behalf of the Sea King. His Majesty Viserys's funeral has been arranged at the southern seaside cliffs of Braavos. Unfortunately, due to health reasons, His Highness cannot attend, but he extends his deepest condolences."

Gavin glanced at Daenerys. Her pale face and downcast eyes betrayed her sadness, but she nodded resolutely.

Turning back to Tyron, Gavin said, "Thank you, and please convey my gratitude to His Highness. We will set off immediately."

They traveled in a luxurious wheelhouse through the streets of Braavos. After over an hour, they arrived at a towering seaside cliff. A massive pyre constructed of intricately arranged wood stood at the cliff's edge, with Viserys's body, dressed in regal finery, lying atop it.

Daenerys's eyes filled with tears as she took in the sight. Memories of her childhood with her brother—his care, his companionship—flooded her mind. Her lip quivered as she bit it, trying to hold back her emotions. Finally, she looked at Gavin, her expression filled with a mix of determination and sorrow, and gave a small nod.

Understanding her silent plea, Gavin called out to Syndor in his heart.

Moments later, the great dragon descended from the sky, its wings casting a shadow over the cliffs. It landed gracefully beside the pyre, its golden eyes fixating on Viserys.

Syndor extended its neck, sniffing the air as if identifying the bloodline of the Dragon King. Then, it released a mournful, low rumble that echoed across the cliffs, a sound heavy with sorrow.

Gavin gently led Daenerys away from the pyre and gave Syndor the command: "Dragonfire."

The dragon reared back, taking a deep breath before exhaling a torrent of golden flame. The fire consumed the pyre and Viserys's body, turning them to ash in moments.

Daenerys stared at the blazing flames, her tears finally falling. Yet her expression shifted to one of resolve. She turned to Gavin and said, her voice trembling, "Thank you. It has been more than a century since a Targaryen was honored as a true Valyrian Dragon King."

Gavin nodded, his voice calm and reassuring. "It was only right. Now, I hope you find some peace."

Daenerys inhaled deeply, steadying herself. "I will carry on my brother's determination."

Gavin placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, silently offering his support.

As they returned to the villa on Syndor's back, Gavin noticed a middle-aged man in a red robe waiting anxiously in the courtyard.

Daenerys leaned close to Gavin and whispered, "That's Illyrio Mopatis. He approached Viserys at the banquet, offering his support to reclaim the Iron Throne. But it came at a price—he planned to marry me to the Dothraki Khal in exchange for their 40,000 cavalry."

Understanding the man's purpose, Gavin dismounted and said, "He's a guest, after all. Let's meet him."

Daenerys nodded slightly, following Gavin as they approached Illyrio, the weight of new alliances looming ahead.