Why is this happening. A Stark beneath his bed, a Stark in his lap, another Stark-ish confronting him about something regarding Dany.

I beg to differ.

This is a nightmare. The clean freak inside wanted to smack her, the germs. Vile and utterly rancid. "Don't you 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 do something like that ever again!"

Is that the case, hm?

She doesn't. Get her.

Doing the germfest a cleaning. How disgusting. "Fine, fine, shut up and go away."

Mm.

Oh, good, civil war.

Hadn't even cared enough to listen in.

Cue the look of disgust displaying clear across his face before tensing as Rickon rested against him.

Snatching her wrist, a look of disgust shortly followed by a glare. "Don't touch me."

It truly mustn't yell. Ew.

And it responded. However, I don't believe I stuttered. How daft can one be.

Who even were you. What is your signifigance.

Free what— that means nothing to me.

Great Houses are the only houses that matter.

Yet here we have another deeming a false claim to the flames.

I am. Her older brother.

Viserys, the rightful heir despite my sister's claim.