After several days of continuous flight, the unique outline of the Braavos Islands finally appeared in sight. Viserys controlled Blackflame, flying toward a desolate, rocky coast northeast of Braavos.
He let Blackflame rest and wait, hidden in a cave near the coast, while he changed into the simple clothes he had prepared beforehand, disguised himself slightly, and walked toward Braavos.
After traveling for a while, he finally saw the city. Relying on his extraordinary skills and his Skinchanger ability to familiarize himself with the terrain, Viserys easily avoided the guards and blended into the flow of people.
Braavos was still noisy and prosperous, as if time had stood still here. He moved like an invisible man, passing through the bustling market toward the Targaryen stronghold at the Ragpickers Quay.
Instead of entering through the main gate, he circled to a relatively secluded section of the wall behind the stronghold. With a running jump, his fingers grabbed the top of the wall, and he silently flipped over, landing in the yard where scrap materials were piled.
Everything inside the stronghold was normal; soldiers were training and patrolling, but there was a palpable, suppressed anxiety unique to exiles in the atmosphere. Viserys moved like a phantom, heading straight for the room where Ser Willem Darry handled affairs.
He gently knocked on the door.
Ser Willem, who was hunched over reviewing the accounts, raised his head. Logically, no one should be disturbing him at this hour. When he opened the door and saw the familiar figure, he trembled, barely believing his eyes.
"Your Majesty? How could you..." Ser Willem suppressed his voice, unable to hide his shock.
"Let's talk inside." Viserys pushed him into the room.
After closing the door, Ser Willem knelt on one knee. "Your Majesty, your safe return is truly blessed by The Seven. Ser Arthur and the others..."
"They are also safe, carrying out another mission." Viserys helped him up, briefly explaining his journey to Valyria, the existence of Ghidorah and the Black Dragon Blackflame, and the plan to rebuild the New Valyrian Empire.
Although somewhat prepared, Ser Willem was still stunned by the string of astonishing news, especially the prophecy concerning the "three-headed dragon king" and the imminent recovery of the Valyrian environment.
"Therefore, we need to move the core operations there, but this place must be maintained as a facade for the outside world," Viserys concluded. "Ser Willem, I want you to remain here and command the overall situation.
"Continue trade as usual, deal with the probing of the Sealord and various factions, and create the illusion that we are still trapped in Braavos. You can even 'complaint' appropriately about tight finances and bleak prospects, and even allow some less determined people to 'leave in disappointment' to enhance the authenticity."
Ser Willem took a deep breath, suppressed his inner turmoil, and nodded heavily. "I understand, Your Majesty. Deceive the outside world and buy us time. I will handle everything here."
"Very good," Viserys approved. "Now, secretly inform Daenerys, Rhaenys, and Miss Ashara, as well as Ser Jonothor Darry, that I want to see them. Do not let anyone else notice. At the same time, begin secretly vetting personnel. The five hundred most loyal people, including their immediate families—warriors, artisans, and so on—who are willing to leave Braavos for a 'new, possibly arduous but hopeful place' to rebuild their home. Also, prepare five sturdy ships and secretly stockpile a batch of essential supplies."
"Five hundred people, five ships... And the timing, Your Majesty?" Ser Willem quickly got down to business.
"I give you one month to prepare," Viserys said. "On the New Moon Night one month from now, the first group will board the ships and sail out of the Braavos waters. I will meet you at sea and escort you to Valyria. Afterward, subsequent personnel will be arranged periodically, depending on the situation, but the first batch must be capable and reliable."
"Understood." A long-absent sharp glint shone in Ser Willem's eyes. It was not just the determination to execute orders, but the excitement of seeing a great future.
The following meetings were conducted under absolute secrecy.
Ser Jonothor Darry was deeply moved upon seeing Viserys. When he learned that Viserys had not only returned safely but had also gained a Dragon and the opportunity to rebuild their home, the loyal old knight knelt again, swearing fealty, and stated that he would do everything in his power to protect the princesses on their journey to their new home.
In Ashara's room.
When Viserys removed his hood, revealing a face weathered but firmer than before, a layer of mist veiled Ashara's pale purple eyes. Without many words, she quickly stepped forward and embraced him tightly. The worry of separation and the thrill of reunion were all contained within this silent embrace.
"I'm back," Viserys whispered in her ear, briefly recounting the events in Valyria. "That will be our new beginning. I want you by my side, Ashara."
Ashara looked up at him, her gaze firm and gentle. "Wherever you go from now on, Viserys, I will follow you."
Viserys looked at her exquisite beauty, so close to him. Those purple eyes, usually carrying a faint melancholy, now reflected only his shadow.
He did not reply, only lowered his head slightly and kissed her lips.
At first, it was a gentle, tentative touch.
Ashara's body stiffened slightly for a moment, then softened. Viserys could feel the coolness of her lips and her inexperienced response.
The kiss was not fierce, but long and deep.
When their lips parted, both of their breaths were ragged. Ashara's cheeks were flushed, and Viserys gently stroked her slightly swollen lips with his thumb.
"Ashara..." His voice was low and husky, yet it seemed to carry a burning question.
She did not answer, merely reached out, grabbed his lapel, and gently tugged him backward.
It was a silent invitation, firmer than any words.
Their body temperatures mingled in the darkness. The initial awkwardness and slight pain gradually transformed into a tacit cooperation under gentle endurance and guidance.
When the final wave swept over them, Viserys pulled her sweat-dampened body into his embrace.
After everything was over, Ashara tiredly buried her face in his chest and fell into a deep sleep.
Viserys pulled the blanket over them both, adjusted the sleeping posture of the beauty in his arms, and also drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Daenerys and Rhaenys were the most surprised.
To protect them, Ser Willem had not informed them in advance of Viserys's return.
When Viserys suddenly appeared in the small garden where they were playing, seven-year-old Daenerys paused, then burst into tears with a "wah," sprinting over like a little rabbit, tightly hugging his waist, burying her tear-streaked face in his chest, and sobbing, "Brother, you're finally back! I missed you so much."
Rhaenys was a bit more reserved, but her eyes were also red-rimmed. She walked over and grasped Viserys's hand. "Brother, it's so wonderful that you're back."
Viserys smiled, squatted down, and pulled both girls into his embrace, gently comforting them and assuring them that he would never leave for so long again.
When his gaze met Ashara's nearby, her cheeks seemed to blush slightly due to the memory of last night. Viserys felt a warmth in his heart, and the smile on his face grew softer.
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