Viserys was in a foul mood.
For no particular reason, really; he had decided, upon waking up, that he was going to be in a bad mood, and proceeded to throw his wooden soldiers at the nurse until she fled, sitting on his bed sulking dramatically and kicking his heels against the wooden frame. And then his stupid sister had to come in babbling about some stupid toy, and she wouldn't be quiet or take the hint when he crossed his arms and glowered at her and told her to go away. Ser Willem said she didn't understand when he told her that, but Viserys didn't believe it. She just didn't want to listen.
Stupid sister.
And then she shoved her stupid little toy in his face, so he took it and threw it across the room where it broke against the stones, and then she started bawling at the top of her lungs and that brought Willem running just as he was yelling, "If I had a dragon and I'm going to, I'm going to, I'd feed you to it!"
He didn't really mean it. Or only a little. But Ser Willem took it seriously and tried to tell him he couldn't feed his sister to a dragon even if he did have one, and that was just the last straw.
He jumped to his feet, already beginning to be gangly and awkward even at his age, though that might have been because he continued to turn up his nose at 'foreign food.' "You can't tell me what I can't do! I'm going to be king and then no one will tell me what to do and especially not you, maybe I'll feed you to my dragon too!"
Daenerys wobbled to her feet and pointed an accusing finger at him, lip trembling. "Dragon," she said, loudly. "My dragon!"
Viserys clenched his fists and started toward her. "No! You don't get any dragons, you're just my sister, I'm going to have a dragon and he'll only listen to me and he'll be the biggest dragon ever because I'll only feed him people I hate." He stopped, momentarily. "And there are a lot of those. First the Usurper's dogs, though."
Ser Willem was frowning. "You might be getting a little ahead of yourself, Prince, begging your pardon," he said, cautiously, "There haven't been living dragons seen in years, not even dragon eggs."
Viserys drew himself up. "I'm not a Prince, I'm a King now, and my father said there were dragons. He said I'd have one, too, he said-" Abruptly, his sister barreled into him from the side, seizing handfuls of his shirt and pushing him with surprising power for her size with an obstinate cry of "My dragon! Dragon's mine!" and of course Viserys couldn't just allow that so he grabbed the first object he found with his hand, staggering, and started hitting Princess Daenerys with it. That made her start wailing, which just made him madder, and he started yelling too, and then Willem hauled his bawling sister off, frowning at him in disapproval as he drew her into the air and unfortunately out of reach.
"Prince, you cannot simply – go about beating on your younger sister – it is not acceptable, as a man or as a brother!"
Viserys crossed his arms and kicked the floor, feeling sullen and annoyed. Of course it was all about Daenerys. She always got all the attention, "Not a prince," he said, "And she started it anyway. I'm a King and if you don't call me it when I get a dragon you'll be in big trouble."
Ser Willem sighed and shifted his still wailing sister to one arm, patting her back and shaking his head slightly. Viserys flounced over to the bed and sat down again, crossing his arms and kicking the bed again with his heels.
"Take her away," he said, imperiously, "I don't want to hear her stupid crying."
Daenerys peered around her shoulder to give him a baleful, red-eyed look. He stuck his tongue out at her and hunched his shoulders up more, glaring at the floor. "My dragon will eat people who cry too much, too," he declaimed, definitively.
Ser Willem muttered something inaudible, though Viserys glared at him anyway, suspecting that it was not complimentary. "I think if it were up to you, your grace," he said, in an odd tone of voice, "Your dragon would get too fat to fly. Now, if you want to stay in here and be cranky all day, so be it, but I am taking your sister out to see the streets."
Viserys sat bolt upright. "You're not going without me," he said, stiffly, and firmly, "You can't. I'm the king."
Ser Willem didn't quite smile, but shook his head slightly. "Then apologize to your sister, and cover your hair. You know you musn't be seen."
Viserys nodded solemnly and hopped off the bed, suddenly the picture of boyish energy. "Do you think there'll be dragon eggs for sale? I'd get one. And I'd hatch it too, and then I'd have my dragon and he'd only listen to me. Oh – right. Sorry Dany," he added, as an afterthought.
His sister sniffed loudly and did not reply. Viserys poked around in his closet, frowning, and eventually said thoughtfully, "Maybe I won't feed you to my dragon, Ser. You might be all right."
"Your grace is too kind," said Ser Willem, and Viserys nearly beamed. Though not quite. He couldn't allow himself to be placated too easily.
"I know I am," he said, proudly, "Father said I should be merciful sometimes. Can we go now?"