"Father, who was that old lady?" Garth asked, his curiosity piqued as he noticed Aegon staring off into the distance.
The sea breeze carried the faint taste of salt, lifting a few strands of silver hair from Aegon's forehead.
Aegon smiled softly, lifted his son into his arms, and replied gently, "She was an old acquaintance of mine. Perhaps she's gone in search of her homeland."
"Homeland?" Garth echoed, puzzled.
Still holding the boy with one arm, Aegon pointed toward the distant sea with the other. "Far across those waters lies the birthplace of House Targaryen—the Valyrian Peninsula. It's the land where all dragons were born..."
Garth followed the direction of his father's finger, staring out over the Narrow Sea.
Sunlight danced across the waves, sparkling like scattered gold.
In his mind's eye, Garth saw a vast peninsula, and above it, thousands of dragons soared through the skies.
Just then, a flock of sparrows fluttered past the window, chirping and fluttering. They arranged themselves into the shape of an island, with a few acting out the roles of dragons, circling the "mountains."
Aegon laughed, clearly amused by the boy's imagination. Garth wasn't even three yet, but he was already far more perceptive than Aenys had been at that age.
If Garth had true dragonblood, Aegon wouldn't hesitate to restore the Targaryen name to him. But, unfortunately, he had only inherited his mother's lineage.
Aegon chose to remain on Dragonstone rather than return to Harrenhal. Since his arrival in Westeros, he hadn't stayed long on the island. Now, with Garth at his side, he took time to explore the island's structures and share stories from his own childhood, savoring these rare, peaceful moments with his son.
In the evenings, he spent time with Raedelle, seeking comfort in her company.
...
Although the king had not returned to Harrenhal, the royal court continued to operate smoothly.
Queen Visenya's authority in court had grown considerably over the years. More and more, she made decisions on her own, without needing to consult Aegon. When members of the Small Council raised the issue with the king, Aegon expressed no dissatisfaction. He simply instructed his ministers to maintain a harmonious relationship with the queen.
For many years, Visenya had been unable to conceive, and Aegon, feeling a quiet sense of guilt toward his elder sister, was inclined to indulge her preferences.
This, however, made Rhaenys increasingly resentful. Aegon's decision not to return to Harrenhal this time had left her furious.
Rhaenys mounted Meraxes and flew to Dragonstone with their son, Aenys.
Aegon had no choice but to meet her in person.
Aenys, now four years old, slid gracefully down from Meraxes's wing. His bold entrance made Garth look on with envy.
"I told you, I was only staying a few weeks. Why come all this way?" Aegon said, stepping forward to embrace Rhaenys and planting a light kiss on her cheek.
"I didn't come for you," Rhaenys replied, turning her head to avoid his gesture. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not upset about you being here alone with Raedelle."
Aegon sighed inwardly. As if I'd believe that.
Raedelle brought Garth forward and bowed respectfully. "Your Grace. Your Highness."
Rhaenys gave the mother and son a faint nod, then turned to Aegon with a frown. "I came to help Aenys choose a dragon. He's already four and still hasn't bonded with one."
When Aenys was still an infant, Aegon had placed a black dragon egg in his cradle—but no hatchling had emerged.
Hearing that his older brother was going to tame a dragon, Garth's eyes immediately lit up.
He had always envied his father's Balerion. But Aegon had told him he lacked dragonblood. The one time Garth had climbed onto Balerion's back, the great beast let out a deep, disapproving growl. The force of that dragon's presence alone had turned the boy's face ghostly pale.
Aegon rubbed his forehead with a sigh, clearly annoyed with himself. "Look at me—forgetting something so important."
He turned to Aenys. "Come, I'll take you to the dragon keepers myself. We'll find you a dragon—something large and strong."
"Awesome! Father, I want one as big as Balerion!" Aenys's cheeks flushed with excitement as he clapped his hands.
...
The group made their way along the path to Dragonmont. The sea wind howled around them, whipping their cloaks and sleeves.
Raedelle appeared nervous. She had always been somewhat afraid of the two queens. Most of her time had been spent in Highgarden, and she had rarely interacted with the royal family at Harrenhal. Now, surrounded by royalty, she seemed unsure of where to place her hands and feet.
Rhaenys, on the other hand, appeared completely at ease. She approached Raedelle on her own accord, smiling gently. From time to time, she would point to Aenys and Garth playing with the sparrows, laughing at their antics.
Raedelle, sharp and observant, quickly picked up on Rhaenys's intent.
She understood instantly: Garth's Skinchanger talent was no small thing. It was a rare and valuable gift—enough for the royal family to extend such gestures of intimacy and goodwill.
Prince Aenys also seemed eager to befriend Garth. He made no effort to act superior, nor did he show the slightest disdain for Garth's status as a bastard.
Smiling brightly, Aenys took Garth's little hand and began sharing amusing stories and observations.
Aegon watched the two boys play and laugh together, his heart full of warmth and pride. It delighted him to see his sons—his blood—getting along so well.
Just as his own father, Aerion, had once sent the bastard Orys Baratheon to his side to foster a bond, Aegon now hoped that Aenys and Garth would grow up together as childhood friends—and one day, become a loyal king and his steadfast advisor.
Although Garth's animal companions weren't ferocious beasts like tigers or leopards, the humble sparrow proved far more valuable in the realm of intelligence. With a hundred sparrows, he could monitor an entire castle without a single blind spot—an extraordinary skill in both military and political affairs.
That was precisely why Aegon held Garth in such high regard—and why Rhaenys made sure her son spent time with him.
...
They soon entered Dragonmont.
The dragonkeepers hurried forward and respectfully presented a map of the dragon nests for Aenys to make his selection.
Aenys resolutely chose the largest wild adult dragon on Dragonmont—second only in size to Meraxes. But he failed to tame it.
Its scales gleamed like green metal, and every time Aenys approached, it bared its massive jaws and let out a thunderous roar that nearly knocked him to the ground.
Left with no other choice, Aenys moved on to try another dragon.
He made several more attempts with other adult dragons, but each time ended in failure.
That day's attempt at dragon taming had to be called off in disappointment.
Garth, watching from the side, couldn't help feeling eager to try himself, but Aegon stopped him just in time.
Divine blood ran through Garth's veins—and dragons seemed to instinctively reject it. The only reason Garth had ever ridden Balerion was because Aegon had commanded it. Though Balerion had been clearly unwilling, he submitted to the king's will and tolerated Garth's presence.
...
As night fell, Aenys looked dejected and disheartened.
Aegon could see how his eldest son had been shaken by the failed attempts. The boy's temperament was indeed on the softer side—he struggled to bounce back quickly after a setback.
At that moment, the captain of the dragonkeepers leaned in and whispered, "Your Grace, there are still two dragon eggs in storage that the prince hasn't tried yet. Shall we bring them out?"
The reminder jolted Aegon—he instantly recalled which eggs the captain meant.
They were the two silver dragon eggs seized from House Valentine during the War of Volantis.
"Bring them here," Aegon instructed.
The captain hurried off. Soon, two dragon eggs the size of a human head, gleaming as though cast from pure silver, were carefully placed before Aenys.
"They're beautiful!" Aenys's eyes widened in awe.
Under the flickering candlelight, the smooth, scaled shells shimmered with a soft glow, as if some hidden magic pulsed within them.
Aenys immediately reached out, gently cradled one of the eggs, and held it to his chest. Then he lowered his head and stared intently at it, eyes filled with hope.
"How does it feel? Do you sense anything?" Rhaenys asked anxiously.
Aenys gave a small nod, his face glowing with joy. "I can feel a tiny life inside—it's calling out to me. It wants to come out. It's so close!"
Then came a crisp crack.
A fine fracture appeared on the eggshell's surface, spreading outward like a spider's web.
More soft crackles followed as pieces of the shell began to fall away. A small silver hatchling slowly poked out its head, its bright eyes blinking as it curiously took in the world around it, letting out a soft, babyish chirp.
It wriggled, squirming its way out of the broken shell. Its wet silver scales shimmered enchantingly under the candlelight. Its tiny wings flapped weakly as it tried to find balance.
At last, the little dragon stood—wobbly but free—nestled in Aenys's palm, nuzzling his fingers affectionately.
Aegon gazed at the silver hatchling, and the memory of House Valantyne's full-grown silver dragon—killed under the barrage of siege crossbows—flashed through his mind. He silently prayed: Please don't grow up to be brittle. If a Targaryen dragon can be easily shot down, our family's glory could become a laughingstock.
"Hahaha!" Aenys flushed with excitement, raising the hatchling high into the air for everyone to see. "I have a dragon! I have a dragon!"
He gently placed the silver hatchling on the table and stroked its back with great care. The young dragon affectionately licked his small hand with its tongue, its manner irresistibly endearing.
"Give your little dragon a name," Aegon said with a smile.
"Mm!" Aenys stared at the smooth, shining scales and announced proudly, "It shines bright and lights up the darkness. I'll name it Quicksilver!"
To celebrate his son's success, Aegon held a small feast on Dragonstone.
Prince Aenys made his public debut at the banquet, proudly cradling his new dragon Quicksilver. The sight drew a round of loud cheers and applause from all in attendance.
...
Far away in Harrenhal, Queen Visenya received word that Aenys had successfully hatched a silver dragon.
She sat silently, holding the letter in her hands, lost in thought.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, soaking her pale face.
Visenya couldn't understand why she had yet to conceive a child.
She had taken the initiative to be intimate with Aegon, yet her womb remained still and silent. Alone in her chamber, she curled up tightly around her pillow, sobbing softly in the dark.
Eventually, the exhaustion of her sorrow pulled her into sleep.
In her dreams, Visenya found herself adrift in a pitch-black void, her own body floating silently in the empty space.
Suddenly, the darkness lit up—countless stars blinked into existence, glowing with strange and ethereal light. The stars twisted and warped, transforming into dazzling beams of energy that danced like spirits toward her, then streamed directly into her eyes.
Visenya jolted awake, gasping for breath. She opened her eyes and looked around—the night was deep.
Rising slowly, she walked to the window and looked out over the Dragonlord Tower.
Tonight, the sky was clear and cloudless. Stars glittered like precious gems embedded in velvet.
She recalled the strange vision in her dream and felt a deep, inexplicable connection between it and the night sky above. Aegon had once mentioned that the gods resided among the stars. Could that vision—so vivid, so strange—have been a revelation from one of them?
Visenya hesitated for a moment... then made her choice.
She activated a Valyrian resonance technique and locked her gaze on the stars.
In an instant, her pupils split apart. Dozens of tiny irises swirled into place, clustering within her eyes. The frequency of her mental resonance spiked rapidly—then hit its peak.
From the starry sky, waves of psychic energy surged down like a roaring tide, slamming into her mind. The pressure was so intense it felt as if her head might burst.
Through the pain, Visenya clung to her purpose. She prayed fervently to the gods in the heavens above.
"Please... tell me how I can bear Aegon's child. I long for a child of his blood."
Then, one star in the sky—a brilliant violet one—suddenly flared.
The many pupils in her eyes trembled violently, spinning like a chaotic kaleidoscope. After a long, agonizing moment, the motion slowed, the extra pupils faded, and her eyes returned to normal.
Visenya didn't waste a second.
She grabbed parchment and ink, and began recording the arcane knowledge the gods had just imparted to her.
"Grind 10 grams of wild elephant testicle and intestines into powder; mix with 10 milliliters of dragon blood and 5 grams of dragonglass.
Supporting ingredients: 10 milliliters of pure water, 3 drops of nightstar herb extract, 7 mint leaves, 3 drops of poison hemlock juice, 9 grams of dragonblood grass powder…"
Dozens of ingredients, each more obscure than the last, all written down in precise detail—along with ten complex preparation steps. The potion, once completed, would only take effect if consumed during a mysterious "eye ritual."
Visenya fought through the splitting pain in her head, forcing herself to finish transcribing the full formula.
...
[Upto 20 chapters ahead for now]
p@treon com/ BlurryDream