Her brother did not return that night, nor did she see him the next morning at breakfast; by the time the sun was disappearing into the darkness of the Narrow Sea, Dany wondered if he was avoiding her on purpose. She went about her day as normally as she could, but a nagging feeling in the back of her skull made her feel as if she were secretly being watched. After eating dinner in the manse's main hall she retired to her rooms, assuring herself that when her brother was ready to speak with her, he would come of his own accord, and not a moment before.
Daenerys dreamt of fire and blood that night; a silver dragon bathed a wolf in fire as another struggled in chains howling, the beast cackling at their pain before his face shifted, turning into her brother's. He was chasing her around the lemon tree, and she was three again, laughing wildly and collapsing into a fit of giggles when he caught her by the waist, lifting her and throwing her high up in the air only to catch her with a grin, again and again.
Then he was fading, and she came upon a castle made of stone and ice, so warm on the inside that she questioned where all the heat could possibly be coming from. A fiery-haired woman was keening in terrible pain as she gave birth in one of the rooms, midwives gathered about her as she pushed and panted and howled with the agony of it all. There was so much blood Daenerys feared for a moment that the child was stillborn, but then a baby's cries ripped through the momentary silence and the vision changed.
Two children with auburn hair, a boy and a girl, cooed at a bundle wrapped in thick furs within their mother's arms. She was sure it was the same woman she had witnessed giving birth only moments before. Daenerys' feet led her closer so that she stood next to the bed, a ghost unseen as she looked upon the new babe. Eyes the color of pale steel met hers, and a shiver went down her spine; the babe stared at her as if he could see her! Daenerys noted how different he looked from everyone else in the room; the wisps of dark hair and grey eyes set him so apart from his relatives that Dany might not have believed they were blood related had she not just witnessed the birth herself. "May I hold her, mother?" the red-headed toddler exclaimed with joy, reaching her hands towards the bundle, and then the scene shifted again. The woman from before was much older now, crying tears of blood, her hair white and brittle as a corpse's, her agony plain on her twisted face as she stood beneath a white tree under a full crimson moon. There was a face carved into the tree, but before Daenerys could take a better look the image melted away.
Dany found herself staring into a face that was deathly pale with one red eye and a branch growing out of the other eye socket. "Blood of the dragon," the face whispered eerily, "you must come home soon. Winter is coming in a few short years, and the wolves will perish in the long night without their dragon friends. As will all of Westeros."
"Wolves?" Dany asked, confused at what he meant. "I am the blood of the dragon, but there aren't any dragons left. I have no dragons." She was falling away, and horrible panic choked her, an inexplicable desperation to know what he meant taking hold of her. "Please—"
"Look for the sister of the prince that was promised. She will lead you to him." His voice was fading.
"How will I know who she is?" Dany asked, and the eerie face almost seemed to smile.
"You will know, blood of my blood. For you have already seen her." And then she was falling.
Daenerys woke with a start, her breath coming out in heavy gasps as she sat up; noticing the sheet beneath her was soaked in her sweat she let out a groan, suddenly very eager to bathe.
"Dreaming of dragons, sweet sister?" She froze, startled, and turned to see her brother standing by the window, a shadow against the blinding light pouring through its open shutters. He reached her in a few long strides as Dany waited patiently, trying to think of an answer that would appease him.
"I dreamt of dragons," she said carefully. "We were riding them." Viserys' eyebrows shot up at that in disbelief, but then he smiled, reaching out and brushing her hair lightly.
"Tell me, Dany. Tell me of this dragon dream." He sat on the edge of her bed, his expression expectant.
"We—we were riding dragons over the Narrow Sea, above Westeros, and when we reached King's Landing the Usurper King defied us and denied your power, so you had your dragon burn him alive in the throne room." She knew such a thing would please him greatly and she wasn't mistaken in the least; his lilac eyes lit up and he broke into a feral grin.
"What color was the dragon I was riding?"
"Black," Dany said immediately, remembering a story he had once told her about the greatest dragon that had ever lived, a great black winged creature of monstrous size that Aegon the Conqueror had ridden into battle, defeating the Westerosi kings and claiming his title as their ruler.
"And yours?"
"Red."
"Like our house colors," he mused with a smirk. "How fitting." He paused, his gaze running over her in a way that made her feel like he didn't quite believe her, or not entirely in any case. "Was that all?"
"No," she said slowly, thinking it might be safe to explain parts of her last dream. "I saw a face that spoke to me, and told me we had to return to Westeros as soon as possible." She decided it would be safer to include him, although a part of her felt that there must be a reason why the face had specifically appeared in her dreams and not his. Just as there might be a reason her brother was never mentioned by the pale face. Was Viserys going to leave her soon? Dany certainly hoped not, but she couldn't possibly voice her concerns for fear of angering him.
"What face? What do you mean?" he snapped, his demeanor changing in a heartbeat.
"It was a pale face with one red eye and the other eye…" She trailed off, trying to find a way to explain something that she herself didn't fully understand. "The other eye wasn't there; a branch was growing from his eye socket. He looked…" And she stopped, alarmed at what she had just realized. "He looked familiar. He reminded me of you somehow."
"Me?" he asked, his eyes going wide. "I don't have branches growing out of my head just yet," he teased her, and she smiled tentatively, hoping his sour mood had dissipated completely. "Well then? What else did he tell you?"
"He said that winter was coming in a few years time and that the wolves would die without their dragon friends."
"Wolves," Viserys said sharply. "One of the Usurpers has a wolf as his house sigil. Surely your dream was nonsense, for when we take back the seven kingdoms, treating the wolves as friends will be the last thing I do."
"He also said to find the prince that was promised, although I'm not sure what that even means." Her brother frowned, confusion written across his face.
"Why do I feel like I've heard that somewhere before…" He trailed off, shaking his head and smiling again as he grabbed her hand in both of his, rubbing it gently. "Don't worry so much over your dreams, Dany. I doubt they're prophetic like Daenys Targaryen's."
"Daenys?" She had never heard that name before. Viserys smiled indulgently, his hand squeezing hers tenderly.
"She was called Daenys the Dreamer, the daughter of Aenar Targaryen. It's because of her that we're alive today. She saw the Doom of Valyria in her dreams while still a maiden; this pushed her father to move their family to Dragonstone. Twelve years later the Doom came, shattering the Freehold and wiping out all the Valyrians and their dragons. But the Targaryens stayed safe on Dragonstone and were the sole Dragonlords after the Doom."
"So what if she wasn't the only Targaryen with such dreams?" Daenerys faltered, not wanting to displease him. "What if my dreams are telling me something that we ought to know, Viserys? What if—"
"Enough, Daenerys," her brother said firmly before he stood up, letting go of her hand. "You shouldn't dwell on your dreams in this manner; it's isn't healthy or appropriate." His brows knit together as he considered her for a moment. "However, should we ever find two such dragons or even dragon eggs, one black and one red, I will be sure to start believing in your dreams. Until then, keep your wits about you and stop pondering over such silliness. The only truth your dream gave you was that we must go to Westeros. But we can't do that without an army, something which we clearly lack at present time."
"I'm sorry, Viserys," Dany said meekly, suddenly realizing that she might have placed too much importance on the dream. "It was only a dream."
