If someone had asked Viserys what happiness meant to him, he would have immediately thought of his sister. She was everything that wasn't wrong with the world, its antithesis, and in moments like these, he was glad she was as young as she was.

"Why did the man have to die?" she asked him, her voice soft. Or perhaps not young enough, his mind countered crossly.

"Because he was a bad man, Dany," he said to the five year old who was testing his patience. "He tried attacking a Lord, and such a thing is punishable by imprisonment or death."

They could still see the guards carrying the body away, his sickly thin arms flailing at his sides lifelessly. Viserys clenched his jaw, remembering how thin and frail his father had seemed the last time he had seen him at the age of eight.

"What's imprisomint?"

"It's imprisonment, and it means being put in jail. It's where all the bad people go to rot away so the good ones can live peacefully and out of harm's way…"

"What if the lord attacked the man first?" she asked, interrupting him. "Would the man be allowed to punish him?"

Her questions were irritating him as of late, and Viserys found himself answering her in clipped tones now. "No, he wouldn't be allowed to raise his hand to a lord, he's beneath him. Honestly don't you know anything, you stupid girl?"

His eyes found hers and he felt the red hot anger die out of him as swiftly as it had come. She was gazing up at him in shock and confusion. Viserys immediately regretted lashing out at her, his face softening as his hand caressed the top of her head. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to soften his voice. "Let's get going before we worry Ser Darry." He paused, his gaze going to the deep blues and greens of the water in the distance. "If we start back now, we can stop at the docks and look at the ships. I know how you like to see the ships, Dany."

"Yes, let's," she agreed happily, and he knew that he was forgiven. She put her small hand in his larger one as he led the way to the docks, his mind elsewhere.

Viserys contemplated their situation while Dany leaned against the wooden railing on her tippy toes, trying to see the fishermen in their small boats, the larger ships of lordlings and foreign royalty, and the vast, monstrous trading galleys that sailed into the port of Bravos from all parts of the world, including their home in Westeros.

Ser Willem Darry was growing old and weak; he was a good man and a loyal one, but Viserys was starting to fear for their future beside him. He had heard the servants whispering about his lord's failing health and more recently, bothersome rumors regarding the ownership of the house once the man passed away had reached his ears. Of the latter, he didn't even know what to believe, or if he should say anything about it to Ser Darry. Dark thoughts plagued him day in and day out, and Viserys was trying to come up with a solution on what to do, how to get gold, how to survive, when he felt a small tug on his shirt.

He looked down and knew without asking that she wanted a better view, so he bent down and scooped her up into his arms, resting her against his hip. He wondered, for a split, heartbreaking moment, how proud his mother would be to see him now, caring for his sister and being the dutiful older brother. But then resentment filled him, and a darker part of him noted that the warm body in his arms was the one responsible for taking his mother away from him in the first place. One thin arm wound around his neck, while the other pointed excitedly towards one of the larger ships.

"Look, look, Viserys, a dragon!" For a short moment his dreams broke free from mere fantasy and were suddenly a reality. But then he saw which ship she had been pointing at, and a sullen sigh escaped his lips.

"It's not a real dragon, Dany," he said. "It's a seadragon."

There on the high mast of the ship, stark green against the white of a banner, was the design of a water dragon. The difference between this dragon and the dragons Viserys longed for was a lack of wings and a longer tail. The wings were replaced by three pairs of blackish green fins, each one smaller than the last, traveling down the snakelike body. It also resembled a snake more than a dragon, and Viserys found himself resenting the image more and more the longer he stared at it.

"Do they breathe fire, too?"

Viserys put her down on her feet, resting a hand on her shoulder as he shook his head. "No, Dany, that dragon is not like the dragons from my stories."

"But your dragons breathe fire, don't they?" she asked, and he wordlessly held out his hand, impatient now to get away from the docks, the smelly fishermen and the horrible green dragon which would surely haunt his dreams now.

"Yes," he granted her when she slipped her hand in his and allowed herself to be guided away from the docks. "They breathe fire, but they are long gone now. No one has seen a living dragon in a very long time, since before we were even born."

Daenerys seemed to have given up for a while, and they walked along in silence, the heat of the Bravosi evening pressing down on them as the sky melted away into shades of red and purple.

"But if you had a dragon, would you let me ride it?" Her question stunned him; it seemed so childish, so simple, and yet it left him conflicted and slightly disturbed with himself for taking it out of context for a short moment. She was still a small child, he reminded himself, a little girl. She couldn't possibly understand what she was implying with that, she couldn't possibly know that the first girl he had laid with four months prior had tried enticing him by asking if she could 'ride his dragon'.

"Of course, Dany, I would let you ride any dragon of your choosing," he said, a smile slowly forming on his face as he led her through a maze of shops, taverns, stores and brothels.

"I want a green one," she said instantly, and he chanced a quick look at her. "Or maybe a black one..." She seemed to be very indecisive as of late. "Or a red one. Or a blue one!"

"Or any color," he laughed.

"Or maybe one with silver and gold scales—with purple eyes!"

He stopped then and stared down at her, and it was as if he were seeing her for the first time. Her small face stared at him with an openness and innocence he suddenly wanted to beat out of her, just to make sure she would never trust anyone other than him. It was dangerous to trust other people, Viserys knew, and he had to properly teach her how to survive if they were going to live long enough to take back the Seven Kingdoms.

"Now why would you want that, Dany?"

"So that every time I look at him I can think of you," she said happily.

"Well I don't really know if such dragons exist. I've never heard of a dragon with purple eyes." He sighed, tugging her along once again as he started walking. "And besides," his voice was deeper now, gruffer, closer to a man's voice than a boy's, "my eyes aren't even purple."

"I know," she said, and now her voice sounded lower, smaller somehow. "They're the color of the lilac flowers Ser Willem got me for my name day last year."