Viserys wasn't concerned. In the original story, when Daenerys married the Horselord, all Robert did was shout that someone should be sent to assassinate him. Now, with Viserys stirring the pot in King's Landing, starting a war wouldn't be an easy task for Robert. Especially considering the state of his treasury—so empty that even a mouse would leave it in tears. What's the point of fighting a war when Robert can barely afford it? Will he pay with his fat reserves?
Besides, Robert won't live to see that day, and Viserys knew he needed to speed things up.
After Robert's death in the original story, Cersei had extended an olive branch to Ned, even offering her body as a bargaining chip. Any "rational" politician might have seen this as a reasonable move. If Ned Stark didn't care who sat on the Iron Throne, he could have simply settled into his role as a father-in-law and lived in peace. But the problem was, this was Ned.
Now, Viserys had given Cersei another option. Dorne was stronger than the North and held a strategic advantage. It could contain both the Stormlands and Dragonstone, and Viserys trusted that the Red Viper could handle it.
After receiving the raven's message, Connington went to the harbor to meet Viserys in advance. From Daenerys, he learned that Viserys had asked for 800 men to be prepared for a funeral, which immediately made Connington uneasy. Viserys had taken all his elite forces with him this time, and nearly half of the 2,000 men were lost. It must have been a fierce battle, and to Connington, it seemed Viserys had been defeated.
To minimize the impact of the loss, Connington had already evacuated civilians from the naval port and was waiting there with the healers.
Despite this, some civilians lingered in the distance, anxious for news of their loved ones in the fleet. Among them was Lara, the lover of a captain named Virgil. Shortly after Virgil had left, Lara discovered she was pregnant and was eager to share the news with him.
Connington and Daenerys watched from the dock. The fog was thick, limiting their visibility to just 200 or 300 meters. Connington glanced back at the harbor's lighthouse and instructed Young Connington, "Go tell them to light the beacon!"
"Yes, Father," came the reply.
After another quarter of an hour, a black-sailed warship with a red three-headed dragon on its mast emerged from the fog. Two more followed, then three… The people on the shore counted, but the sixteenth ship didn't appear. One of the ships was clearly a captured vessel. Losing so many ships in a battle would be a grim victory.
Connington's thoughts turned to the looming threat of the Dothraki, but he quickly adjusted his mindset. Ships could be replaced—Targaryens had lost entire fleets before. As long as Viserys was alive, that was what mattered.
Lara prayed silently, hoping that Virgil, a skilled captain, had survived.
Soon, Viserys' flagship came into view, and Connington and Daenerys moved forward to greet it. As they approached, their eyes widened at the sight of the hull's shocking scars—deep, pitted dents stained with dark red blood. Connington couldn't fathom what kind of battle could have inflicted such damage.
The other healers and soldiers standing by for the reception wore the same bewildered expressions. While they could understand the impact craters, the large patches of blood left them unnerved. But for now, no one had answers.
As the warship's door opened, Connington quickly ordered the soldiers to bring stretchers for the wounded, and he and Daenerys rushed to see for themselves. What they found only deepened their confusion.
All the injured soldiers were missing limbs. While severed limbs weren't uncommon on the battlefield, it was a rare and strange sight in naval warfare. Even more puzzling was that nearly every soldier was in this condition—there were hardly any knife or sword wounds. Connington suddenly noticed another fallen soldier, whose wound was an unmistakable laceration, not from a blade, but something far worse.
"Did the Prince go hunting with his fleet? But what kind of monster could cause such carnage?" Connington muttered, his mind reeling.
Although they had already been informed that Viserys was safe, both he and Daenerys were still anxious, not having seen him yet.
"There's the Prince!" Young Connington suddenly shouted, spotting Viserys in the distance, carrying a wounded man on his back.
His words drew the attention of the soldiers around them. Seeing Viserys personally carrying the wounded—and even the dead—left them all feeling a surge of emotion, as if something heavy was pressing on their chests. Connington hurried forward to relieve Viserys of his burden, but the Prince refused.
Seeing Viserys' dedication to his men, Connington felt a deep sense of satisfaction. If Viserys could care for his soldiers like this, there would be no doubt they'd follow him to the ends of the earth.
Soon, all the wounded and dead were brought ashore, and Regis began posting the names of the fallen soldiers. Those who didn't see their loved ones on the list sighed in relief, either heading to the Healer's Hall or waiting anxiously nearby.
Lara, standing in front of the list, scanned it with a pounding heart. When her eyes found Virgil's name, she froze, her body turning to stone. The sounds of crying and the waves crashing on the shore faded into a distant hum...
Meanwhile, with the wounded finally tended to, Connington seized the moment to ask Viserys where he had been.
"Let's discuss it back at the keep," Viserys replied.
With that, Viserys, Daenerys, and Connington climbed into the carriage, while Young Connington rode alongside on horseback, guarding them as they made their way back.
When Connington and Daenerys heard Viserys' story, it felt as if they were listening to a myth.
A Kraken 20 to 30 meters long? Whales and sharks summoned by magic? The horn of the Valyrian dragon? And Euron of the Iron Islands?
It all sounded too fantastical to be true. But Viserys didn't dwell on the details. Instead, he turned to Daenerys and asked, "Dany, you should be able to make fire by now, right?"
'Make fire?' Connington and his son exchanged bewildered looks. They could understand each word Viserys spoke, but when combined, it became something beyond their comprehension.
They watched as Daenerys nodded in response. She extended her hand, and an orange-yellow flame, about the size of a ping-pong ball, ignited in her palm. The warm glow lit up their faces, and Connington jumped in surprise. Even Young Connington, standing outside the carriage, noticed the bright flame and grew wary.
"What?" he called out.
"No... nothing," Connington replied, realizing this was no mere parlor trick.
As a seasoned sellsword and former Hand of the King, Connington had seen much in his time. He knew that ordinary 'fire mages' could create flames, but they needed materials prepared in advance. Yet here was Daenerys, summoning fire from thin air, the flame steady in her hand.
But what Viserys showed them next was even more astounding.
He extended his hand, and a fist-sized red flame appeared in his palm. The flame began to shift and change shape, first forming a dragon, then a griffin. The fiery creatures danced in the eyes of the onlookers, leaving Connington utterly speechless.
Daenerys, on the other hand, watched with admiration. She knew that Viserys had previously been able to create a "flaming snake" with fire, but now, his abilities had greatly improved. She suspected that the red comet had something to do with it.
Viserys extinguished the flames and turned to the Conningtons. "You've all seen the red comet, haven't you? The long night is coming, but fortunately, magic is returning. In the future, magic will be our weapon against the long night."
He then asked Daenerys, "Did you bring the Moonsingers' Scroll?"
"Yes, I have," she replied, pulling out a small scroll and handing it to Viserys. He, in turn, handed it to the Conningtons.
"Start practicing with this. If you don't understand something, just ask me. Only after you've trained can you properly wield magic."
Connington took the scroll, astonished as he realized that Viserys was offering to teach them magic.
Connington accepted the scroll and then knelt on one knee, saying, "Thank you, Prince, for this gift."
"Practice well," Viserys instructed.
"Yes Prince," Connington replied, carefully tucking the scroll into his coat. After a moment, he asked, "Prince, did you say that the Long Night is coming?"
"Yes," Viserys confirmed. "This Long Night could last for a generation, which is why I've urged you to stock up on supplies, especially food."
Connington nodded, feeling fortunate to be following Viserys. Although he had never experienced the Long Night, he had endured longs winters, during which his lands had gone nearly three years without a decent harvest.
With the battle having not only left Viserys unscathed but also seemingly strengthened him, Connington felt confident in bringing up another concern: the Dothraki. "Recently, there have been numerous Dothraki raids in the Two Lakes region. Shortly after you left with your fleet, a man claiming to be from Khal Drogo's khalasar arrived, demanding—or rather, attempting to extort—supplies from us."
As Connington spoke, Viserys looked puzzled. He had dealt with Illyrio, yet the Horselord was still causing trouble. And now this Drogo had the audacity to make demands?
It made Viserys realize that something was amiss. In the original story, after Daenerys became pregnant, the Dothraki had predicted that her child would become the Stallion Who Mounts the World. At the time, Viserys had dismissed it as mere flattery, given how well Daenerys and Drogo were getting along. But now, with Drogo reappearing, the prophecy seemed to be taking on a life of its own—despite the fact that Drogo and Daenerys had never even met in this timeline.
Seeing Viserys deep in thought, Connington decided to proceed with his report. "Prince, we have an official from the Two Lakes region waiting to see you. They are requesting help to protect our people from the Dothraki. Would you prefer to meet with the Dothraki envoy first, or the official from our region?"