[126] Echoes of Vulnerability
Chapter 126: Echoes of Vulnerability
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The Dornish night embraced Sunspear in a warm, spiced darkness. Through the open balcony of my chambers, a gentle breeze carried the scent of citrus and salt from the nearby Summer Sea, stirring the silk curtains in a lazy dance.
I reclined against the plush cushions of a divan, swirling deep red wine in a jeweled goblet. My chest was bare beneath a loosely tied robe of black and crimson silk, full of red marks—evidence of passions recently spent.
Across from me, Arianne lounged with feline grace, her copper skin gleaming in the dazzling yellow lamplight. It was hard not to look at her, harder even so.
Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, partially concealing breasts that the thin silk robe she wore made little effort to hide. The fabric clung to every curve of her body, outlining the swell of her hips and the narrowness of her waist with lustful clarity.
Even in repose, she is a weapon.
There was… there was something entirely crazy about such a breezy atmosphere, in the middle of an oasis, witnessing the moonlight mingle with the lamplight, enjoying the fresh air that was impossible back in my previous world.
The silence between us was comfortable. I watched her fingers trace the rim of her wineglass, the same fingers that had dug into my back not an hour before.
"...Gods, Trystane is going to hate me now," Arianne suddenly said, her silver eyes fixed on the middle distance. "He'll never forgive me for this."
I took a sip of wine, and the rich flavors coated my tongue as I answered. "He's young. He'll find another bride, someone more suitable for his position."
Arianne's laugh held no humor. "You don't understand Dornish hearts, Viserys. We love deeply, and we hold grudges even deeper." She straightened, her robe slipping to reveal more of her shoulder, the hollow of her collarbone a perfect shadow. "And the other lords... you know how Dornish pride is. They'll see this as weakness, an opportunity. They might whisper that I'm just your puppet, easily overthrown."
"Let them whisper," I replied with a dismissive wave. Not that it was false. "Whisperers burn as easily as shouters."
"It's not just that." Arianne leaned forward, intensity sharpening her features. "I… Well. People fear dragons, yes. But they're also foolish enough to think you won't discover them if they find a way to kill me in my sleep. To make an example of me."
Her words pierced through my post-coital contentment like a spear through silk. The vulnerability in her voice was never seen before, and I’d known her for decently long by now.
Destiny plays chess, and we are merely pieces on the board.
"It will all be alright, Arianne," I said, reaching out to stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. "I am here."
She leaned into my touch, but her smile was bitter, knowing. "You are, my king. But for how long? You have an empire to rule. You can't always be in Dorne. And… you have other women to dance with. A lone girl like me would bore you soon."
“....”
The truth in her words resonated within me. She was right. Even with my dragons, I couldn't be everywhere at once. I thought of Daenerys from just a month ago, how despite her dragons and Unsullied, the Sons of the Harpy had waged their shadow war against her in Meereen.
Mere mortals—slaves in their rightful place beneath dragon's wings—had still dared to defy her. Humans were stupidly brave when desperate or driven by pride.
"You're worried about being my Hizdahr zo Loraq?" I mused aloud, recalling the nobleman Daenerys had married in Meereen, who died before the ceremony was ever properly completed. "Or perhaps my Margaery Tyrell, left to fend off the High Sparrow's zealots alone?" That was a reference from the show.
Arianne's eyebrows rose. "I don't know these people you speak of sometimes. Your strange references."
I smiled faintly, forgetting for a moment that my previous life's knowledge wasn't shared here. "Just ghosts dreams I’ve seen," I said, covering my slip.
My mind drifted to the others I'd empowered through my System.
Sansa with regeneration, though I hadn't told her about it. Yara with the same, alongside the Dragon Wings. Daenerys with her awakened dragon blood.
But Arianne... she had been no virgin when we met, a fact I'd cruelly mocked her for during our first encounter. The System wouldn't allow me to bestow similar gifts upon her. There were restrictions on my powers that I was realizing as days passed.
Meaning, if someone wanted to kill her… they’d succeed. Even a common slave.
I studied her now.
The proud tilt of her chin, the calculating intelligence behind those striking silver eyes, the passion that radiated from her like heat from flame. Despite her "past," I had grown genuinely fond of her. I appreciated her fire, her ambition, her loyalty to me, however self-serving it may have begun. I… I’d hate it. If she died.
I wasn't the emotionless tyrant many believed me to be, nor was I my father reborn.
We are more than our worst impulses, but also less than our noblest intentions.
My thoughts turned to other forms of power beyond what the System provided. Physical dominance, dragons, and the strange mechanics of levels and skills had carried me far, but this world held deeper magics.
Kinvara, with her unnatural longevity and mysterious abilities. The shadow magic of Asshai. The many-faced god of the Faceless Men. The powers beyond the Wall that commanded the dead to rise.
Perhaps it was time for me to explore these magics, to find a way to protect those I valued when I couldn't be physically present. Not just for Arianne, but for my own advantage.
I watched the Lord of Light resurrect Jon Snow in another life. I saw the power of blood magic create shadow assassins. I witnessed a Faceless Man change his face as easily as others change clothes. In that case…
Power comes in many forms, and only a fool limits himself to one.
I set my wine down deliberately and met Arianne's gaze, a plan crystallizing in my mind.
"You're going to leave Dorne with me tomorrow morning," I stated, not as a command but as a shared plan. "We'll return to Sunspear every week. You'll receive reports from your chosen subordinates, give out new orders, and then we'll depart again."
Confusion flickered across her face. "And rule Dorne from afar? That isn't optim—"
"I plan to rule for a... longgg time, my dear Arianne," I interrupted, my voice softening. "We can afford to manage Dorne from a distance for a few months, even a year or two, until I figure out a way to properly protect you. To ensure no one dares touch you."
Surprise widened her eyes.
She studied my face, searching for deception or mockery, finding none.
"You would do this? For me?" The vulnerability in her voice made something twist inside my chest.
"I protect what's mine," I replied simply. "And you, Arianne Martell, are very much mine." She… had made enemies with her entire family, her father and brother, just to please me. It was difficult to not like a lady like her.
In protecting her, I was also securing my hold on Dorne. But no, it wasn't just political calculation that drove me. I genuinely wanted her safe, wanted her to remain in my life, in my bed, by my side as I built my empire.
How could I be a Supreme King if I let human limitations hold me back?
The strongest walls are built with both mortar and meaning.
"There is magic in this world beyond dragons," I continued, running my fingers up her arm, feeling her shiver at my touch. "Kinvara has lived for decades, perhaps centuries, looking no older than the day she first pledged herself to R'hllor. The warlocks of Qarth, the shadowbinders of Asshai... there are powers that might serve our purpose."
Arianne's eyes glittered with interest. "You would seek such magic for me?"
"For us," I corrected. "A king is only as secure as those who support him."
She rose from her seat in one fluid motion, the silk of her robe catching the light as she moved. Every step was a study in controlled sensuality, her hips swaying with deliberate purpose as she approached me. The neckline of her robe dipped lower, revealing the generous swell of her breasts and the valley between them.
Standing before me, she untied the sash of her robe, letting the silk part to reveal her naked body beneath—all copper skin and lush curves, a feast for the senses.
"You know… sometimes a corner of my mind whispers if I’m making the right choices. But then you say these sweet things to me. It shuts off that side forever. No one… has ever cared for me this way," she whispered, her voice husky. She lowered herself onto my lap, straddling me with practiced ease. "Not my father, not my lovers... none of them saw me as more than a tool or a trophy. You feel different. You are."
Her fingers traced my jawline, her touch feather-light. "Yet you, who could simply take what you want and leave me to my fate, choose to protect me."
I placed my hands on her hips, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of my robe. "Perhaps I'm just being practical," I suggested, though we both knew it was more than that.
"No," she said, leaning closer until her lips hovered just above mine. "The Dragon King I first met would never have bothered. He would have mocked my fears and told me to manage on my own."
She was right. I had changed.
The man who had cruelly dismissed her as a "whore" during our first meeting in Dorne had evolved. I still sought power, still moved people like pieces on a game board, still burned those who defied me—but I had also developed the capacity for something deeper. Sitting on the throne had fixed me, opposite a common man.
Sometimes, the greatest power comes from what we choose not to destroy.
Arianne's lips met mine in a kiss that held nothing back. Her arms wound around my neck as she pressed herself against me, her body molding to mine with perfect harmony. This wasn't just about seduction or political alliance anymore. There was real emotion in her touch, in the way she sighed against my mouth.
I responded with equal fervor, one hand tangling in her dark hair, the other sliding down to cup the perfect roundness of her ass. She moaned softly as I pulled her closer, our bodies separated only by the thin barrier of my robe.
When we finally broke apart, breathless, I saw tears shimmering in her silver eyes.
"What's this?" I asked, surprised.
"Don’t ask stupid questions at such a time, will you?" she whispered, resting her forehead against mine.
I understood.
She’d said it herself, after all. That a part of her whispered doubts, that a part of her was unsure of her decisions. My words and my actions lately have proven that part wrong. Of course she felt incredible relief at that.
Love is the death of duty. She’d killed the duty toward her family for me. Thus, it gave birth to a new purpose.
"...Tomorrow, we fly," I murmured against her hair. "Casterly Rock first, then back to King’s Landing to meet Kinvara."
Arianne nodded, then kissed me again, deeper this time, her body shifting against mine in clear invitation. As my hands slid under her open robe to caress the warm skin beneath, I found myself considering how strange life had become.
Hah.
Even kings are shaped by those they conquer.
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Author Note: Viserys isn’t a hero, but certainly he can aim to be a greater ruler than anything the Targaryen dynasty has produced. Both in power and responsibilities.
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