Malora, often called the old maid of House Hightower, was known for her obsession with magic. In one of her experiments, something went disastrously wrong, leaving her head inexplicably fused to a table. Faced with this bizarre predicament, House Hightower had no choice but to seek assistance from the royal family, offering three dragon eggs as payment.
The transaction set significant events in motion. Duncan, the son of Little Rose, received one dragon egg. Dany retained the remaining two and later placed them in the cradles of Sansa's two sons. As the saying goes, you get what you pay for. Yet, the origins of the dragon eggs were questionable—acquired, perhaps, through less-than-honorable means from the Targaryens. However, Viserys chose not to dwell on this murky history. The eggs were back in Targaryen hands, and that was what mattered.
Viserys decided he should personally inspect the dragon eggs and any magic being studied at the Hightower. He was eager to uncover anything that could serve as a weapon against the White Walkers. However, Dany's suggestion that he visit Sansa's baby first presented an unexpected dilemma. He found his thoughts clouded by an external influence—a weak but palpable force that subtly bent his will. Though he could resist, the suggestion grew more compelling.
In the end, Viserys resolved the conflict within himself. "Let's go today," he said. "I'll visit Sansa's baby first and then head to Oldtown."
"Okay," Dany agreed.
Together, they made their way to Sansa's chambers, where Catelyn was soothing her granddaughter, Rhaelle. The baby girl, with her reddish-brown hair and striking purple eyes, bore a strong resemblance to her mother and grandmother. Yet, unlike her silver-haired brothers, she cried much more often.
The two baby boys were sound asleep in another room, clutching the dragon eggs placed in their cradle by Dany. Sansa, sitting nearby, looked on with a tired, worried expression. She was deeply concerned about Rhaelle's frailty, fearing the child might not survive long.
"This child is so pitiful. May the Seven bless her and let her grow up safely," Sansa murmured, tears streaming down her face. Motherhood had made her emotions raw and intense.
At that moment, Viserys and Dany entered the room. Catelyn moved to bow, but Viserys stopped her. He gently took Rhaelle into his arms. Miraculously, the baby stopped crying immediately and drifted into a peaceful sleep.
The sight brought relief and joy to everyone present. Children's emotions are pure, and Rhaelle's reaction seemed to forge a bond with her father, deepening his affection for her. Viserys gazed at the baby with a rare tenderness. Then, he noticed something startling—the external force that had been manipulating his thoughts earlier had vanished.
He glanced at the now-sleeping Rhaelle, his mind racing. Was that… her magic?
"She's given birth to a Esper," Viserys muttered under his breath, concern flickering across his face. The term referred to individuals with powerful mental abilities, capable of influencing others' thoughts and emotions.
Rhaelle's nascent power troubled him. Though it posed no threat to him now, her abilities could grow formidable with age. For the moment, her desires were simple—a need for care and comfort. But in the future, managing her could become a challenge.
As Viserys held her, he noticed how exhausted she seemed. The effort of wielding her power had drained her completely, and she remained sound asleep, a faint smile curling her lips and she appeared content at the moment.
Viserys allowed himself a fleeting, optimistic thought: Perhaps in the future, Rhaelle's power might even influence the Night King, compelling him to end his own existence. For now, however, he chose to set the matter aside. He gently sat by Sansa's bedside, offering her a warm smile.
"You've worked hard, Sansa," he said softly.
Sansa shook her head, but her emotions overcame her. Tears welled up, and without thinking, she buried her face in Viserys' shoulder, her composure momentarily slipping. Her gesture was abrupt, almost rude, but Viserys didn't pull away. He simply allowed her the comfort she sought.
Since the end of the War of the Restoration, Sansa's family had come to King's Landing. However, she was the only one left to remain at the Red Keep. Her time there had left scars—fear and trauma that lingered long after her experiences in the castle's shadowy corridors. When Ned and her siblings left the capital, Sansa had been devastated, her grief rendering her unable to eat for days.
She had feared she might not be able to win Viserys' favor. But her expectations of him had been wrong. Despite the limited time they spent together, their moments were always filled with warmth. She grew captivated by his stories of adventures alongside Dany and developed a quiet dependency on him.
After allowing Sansa to nurse her baby in peace, Viserys checked on his two sons, now soundly sleeping with their dragon eggs, before mounting his dragon and departing King's Landing. His destination: Oldtown and the High Tower.
...
Oldtown, the High Tower.
House Hightower had committed itself to the North's cause, dispatching their elite forces nearly half a month prior. Leyton Hightower, the head of the house, sent his eldest son to oversee their defenses, leaving the High Tower itself to evolve into a quasi-magical research center.
Under Viserys' support, the end of the War of the Restoration had brought a new wave of magical experimentation. Leyton and his daughter Malora had recruited individuals with magical abilities or potential to aid in their research. While this influx of talent accelerated progress, few matched the skills of Malora and her father.
However, since the bizarre accident that fused Malora's head to a table, the pace of their magical studies had slowed dramatically. Her movements were restricted, and the sight of her condition unnerved even the most hardened researchers. The fusion of her scalp and skull to the blue-lacquered table was seamless, as though she had been born with it. Some strands of her hair had even begun to grow onto the table itself, creating a chilling spectacle.
Early attempts to relieve her plight had failed disastrously. The family initially proposed sawing off the table to free her. Yet, as soon as the saw blade touched the surface, Malora screamed in agony, blood seeping from the cut. The experiment was quickly abandoned. The Maesters were called to treat the table itself, dressing its "wounds" as though it were flesh. The surreal nature of this task deeply disturbed the Maesters, who were unaccustomed to tending to furniture as though it were living tissue.
The situation grew more dire. Malora continued to cry out in pain, even when the table bore no visible injuries apart from the ill-fated attempt to sever it. Her father, Lord Leyton, had no choice but to turn to the royal family, presenting a dragon egg in desperation as payment for their assistance.
When Viserys finally arrived at the High Tower, memories of his prior visit with Dany during the War of the Restoration flooded back. He had been impressed then by the magic displayed within the ancient structure. Now, the burden of saving Malora rested squarely on his shoulders.
Viserys, clutching the wand and the magic they had been attempting to master, turned to Leyton and asked, "Lord Leyton, explain what happened during your magic practice."
Leyton bowed slightly and replied, "It was like this, Your Grace. Malora and I were trying to use magic to link two tables together. But the magic shot out from the end of the wand, and... it ended up like this."
"So, you're saying the problem lies with the wand?" Viserys asked, narrowing his eyes.
Without hesitation, he examined Malora's wand, cutting it open to reveal scorched marks at its tip. It was clear that something unusual had occurred, but Viserys had no prior experience with such anomalies. To understand, he turned his attention to their earlier spellwork.
Over the past two years, research at the Hightower had shown that most spells had corresponding counter-spells. However, developing these counter-spells proved to be an incredibly arduous task. With their current magical expertise still limited, it fell upon Viserys to take the lead.
Viserys began by analyzing the linking spell. As he delved into its mechanics, a realization struck him—this spell could potentially be used against the White Walkers. It was essentially a control spell.
He envisioned its applications: binding White Walkers and their wights together, anchoring them to the ground, or even immobilizing them against the icy bone towers they constructed to impede their enemies. The possibilities were intriguing.
Using Leyton's wand, Viserys practiced the linking spell meticulously. He first cast it on two books, fusing them tightly together. Then he moved on to heavier objects: weights, carts, even carriages. With each success, his understanding deepened.
Eventually, the linking spell appeared as a skill on his magical panel. Determined, Viserys worked to increase its proficiency, and when the spell reached the Expert level, a new spell seemed to emerge in his mind—a counter-spell: the Unlink Spell.
Under the anxious gaze of the onlookers, Viserys directed his efforts toward Malora. Her head, unnaturally connected to the table, bore the consequences of their failed magic. With precise control, Viserys cast the Unlink Spell. Slowly, the connection between her head and the table dissolved, strands of her scalp pulling free along with the remains of the failed spell.
Finally, Malora's neck was freed. Exhausted, she collapsed into a deep sleep, unable to muster even a word of gratitude.
Leyton's relief was palpable. Overjoyed, he exclaimed, "My daughter is saved at last!" His admiration for Viserys deepened. The combination of Viserys's political authority, military might, and magical prowess made him unrivaled—a towering figure in the realm.
"How many people can currently cast the linking spell?" Viserys asked.
Leyton answered promptly, "Your Grace, out of the 327 individuals studying magic at the Hightower, only 16 have managed to cast the linking spell so far."
"That's far too few," Viserys said firmly. "Inform them that I want everyone practicing the linking spell immediately. In three months, I plan to launch an offensive against the White Walkers. This spell will be critical, and I need at least 100 proficient in casting it by then."
"One hundred?" Leyton hesitated, his skepticism evident.
Many in the Hightower still struggled with basic spells like levitation. The linking spell, being far more advanced, seemed an insurmountable challenge for most.
Yet, the incentive Viserys offered made the effort worthwhile.
"Those who master the linking spell in time will be transported to the Wall on dragons!" Viserys declared, his tone brooking no argument.