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A/N: There will be mentions of graphic violence and death.

Remembrance

Viserys is drunk. He is so very drunk as he sits alone in the ratty tent given to him. Given to him. Is that not quite the joke? The rightful king of Westeros and these people, if he can call them that, "gave" him a tent. His sister is off with that oaf she calls a husband and the rest of them. Viserys hates it here. He hates everything about this place; this city held dear by those savages he is with. Well, if anyone could call it a city; he does not.

He is so drunk that he remembers his family; his true family. Or rather, he tries to. It has been so long since he thought of them and he was so young when they were all killed it is hard for him to remember them at all.

There are stories he remembers, was told, and heard in whispers, but, mostly he tries to remember them as they were. But, he never can; not completely.

He vaguely remembers his bearded father sitting with him telling him of the might of dragons. He remembers more about his father's pinched, angry face constantly yelling about something and everything. What he definitely remembers over the years is the story of how King Aerys was killed by a man who was charged to protect him and that more and more his father is remembered for being mad than feared or respected.

There are almost equal amounts of stories told about his brother. He remembers people used to say his brother was handsome and how good of a prince he is. He remembers how some used to remark about how similar he and Rhaegar used to look. He remembers more about the sense of confusion and surprise when his brother started to do strange things before he ran off with that girl. The thing that mostly stands out in memory is that Rhaegar's chest was crushed by the Usurper's warhammer.

Viserys takes another drink; this time a longer one. He laughs, but, it is a laugh filled with bitterness. There was very little for his laughs to be filled with but bitterness. He knows he remembers the rest of his family less than he does his father and brother. There are even fewer stories about the rest of the family. Many times it is as though he is one of the few who bothers to remember them. That makes him angrier sometimes.

He thinks he remembers his mother's soft smiles and her stories. What sticks out more is her ever increasingly withdrawn and miserable face. Even at Dragonstone, away from King's Landing, she was sad. What he definitely remembers is Willem Darry calling him away from his mother's cooling corpse, telling him they have to leave with tiny Daenerys crying in the knight's hands.

What he remembers about Elia is her hair. It stands out because of how different she looked; pretty, but, different from them. He recalls her sweet nature, but, he also remembers that she used to be ill and Rhaegar's leaving never helped that. What he remembers most about her is hearing how her body was desecrated before she was killed by the Lannisters' dogs.

When he was younger and when Daenerys was not yet born there he remembers thinking that when they were grown perhaps he and Rhaenys could have married one another. What he remembers most is hearing how she was dragged from underneath the bed before she was stabbed to death.

He thinks he remembers how Aegon faintly used to resemble him and the rest of the Targaryens. What he surely remembers is hearing how Aegon's skull was dashed against a wall.

He is so busy remembering and drinking that it had not occurred to him that he was standing and he looks down to see a sheathed sword in his hands.

He hears a disturbance; some raucous cheering and laughing from outside his tent; none of that he is a part of. He is filled with more bitterness.

He drinks more and more and remembers more and more. He remembers having to flee Dragonstone. He remembers Ser Darry dying and servants taking what little they had left. He remembers having to sell his things to feed himself and his sister. He remembers the sneering, the whispers, and the side-long looks. He remembers being at the mercy of those who look down at him. Even here, even now.

He walks out of the tent.