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Part 18
Viserys seemed to sense something off; his confidence wavered slightly. He paused for a moment, frowned, and, trying to sound authoritative, said:
— Dear sister, I believe you’ve… — he trailed off, choosing his words to assert what he thought would bring her “compliance,” — you’ve grown too comfortable, forgetting your place and the responsibilities you owe to me. I am the last dragon. The rightful heir to the Iron Throne. And you, sister, must remember that your place is at my side, supporting me in my fight for our throne.
Bruce barely held back a laugh, though the corners of his mouth twitched in an ironic smile. "The last dragon"? This scrawny nerd with his arrogant smirk and self-important tone was calling himself a dragon? 'He really does sound like one of those morons, what does that even mean, dragon-this, dragon-that,' he thought, looking at him with amusement. The whole thing was becoming even more absurd, and Bruce decided to play along a little, but with a good dose of sarcasm. A dragon? He hadn’t even seen one—unlike Bruce.
— Sure, sure, “dragon,” — he drawled, lazily stretching and then sinking back into the water, clearly enjoying himself. — For a second, I was worried someone important had come in. Hey, do you have a dragon certificate or something? — he finished, laughing. 'If you’re a dragon, I guess I’m some sort of phoenix. I keep coming back to life in this insanity,' he thought, chuckling even more.
His laughter, soft and melodic, was nothing like Bruce’s usual rough chuckle, echoing off the stone walls. Even Bruce was a little taken aback by the sound, as if at that moment his true nature—his sarcastic self—had been softened by a tenderness he’d never have associated with himself. Still, the laughter was infectious and genuine, filled with open mockery at this self-proclaimed "dragon."
Viserys watched his “sister” laugh with irritation and indignation, clearly not accustomed to such disrespect. His face twisted, he straightened, puffing himself up, as if trying to appear bigger and more imposing. He took a slow breath, evidently struggling to contain his anger, and coldly hissed:
— Daenerys, enough. This is not how my sister should behave, — Viserys snarled, trying to maintain his composure, but his voice betrayed his growing fury. — You need to remember your place and everything I’ve done for you. Everything we have, everything you have, is because of me. You owe me everything. And without my care, you’d be nothing.
Bruce kept looking at him with a lazy half-smile, as though this fiery monologue was nothing more than an amusing play. But Viserys, oblivious, went on, slowly getting to his main point:
— I do all of this for our house. For our family. And I don’t need simple gratitude; I need your absolute obedience, Daenerys. You must follow me without question. I have already prepared a place for you in this new world—you’ll marry a powerful ally who will help us reclaim the Iron Throne.
Bruce couldn’t hold it in and laughed, openly and loudly, unable to hide his amusement. He leaned forward, covering his eyes with a hand, as if trying to stifle himself, but the laughter broke through, echoing across the room.