"Father!"
Jaehaerys cheered, charging forward like a cannonball.
Aemon braced himself, chuckling. "You little brat, trying to pull a fast one on your father."
With his short stature, Jaehaerys's forehead landed squarely on his father's crotch. One headbutt and his mother would have been a widow for the rest of her life.
"Father, did you just get back from the Vale?" Jaehaerys inquired, still cheerful and excited. "Mom's been talking about you these past few days, saying you'd be back soon."
"Yes, I came to see how your dragon taming is going," Aemon said, ruffling his head fiercely.
Jaehaerys, with his messy curls of silver-gold hair, beamed with pride. "I can already command the weather to clear."
Compared to his two favored sisters, the boy, who had been raised with less pampering, was a bit too showy.
"I saw it all," Aemon nodded slightly, praising him. "Good job." He was trying not to be a spoiler.
Jaehaerys smiled gleefully as he dragged his father to watch the young dragon, Sunny, feasting heartily. The dragon occasionally barked and interacted with the young prince.
Sunny cooperated, his throat rumbling and neighing. With each cry, the diamond-shaped thorns on his back trembled slightly, like antennae amplifying his sensitivity.
Aemon accompanied him quietly, observing the young dragon, born of Old Valyrian magic and possessing a distinct Targaryen bloodline.
The Smoky Sea dragon egg had nearly failed to hatch. Aemon had spent a fortune on it over a year ago, after finding an [Incubator] worth 800 points of Mana Essence on the Mana Essence panel.
His bond with this young dragon changed his perception of all dragons. Every other dragon in the family was like a blazing flame—raging and violent. But Sunny was more like a wisp of phosphorescence hidden in a dark forest. Its vitality was more vigorous, and therefore more dangerous.
"I'll be a dragon rider soon. Mother said she flew over King's Landing on a dragon's back when she was seven. Maybe I can do it, too," Jaehaerys said with longing.
"Too young," Aemon replied.
"What do you mean by too young?" Jaehaerys didn't understand.
"My ambition is too small," Aemon said calmly, raising his chin proudly. "You are my son. Riding a dragon's back is nothing. Riding your dragon into battle is the first step in your growth."
"Wow!" Jaehaerys's eyes were filled with admiration, deeply captivated by his father's words.
Aemon tilted his head slightly, avoiding his son's clear, yet foolish gaze. He felt a pang of guilt for fooling his own son. But children should set ambitious goals from a young age. It would be harder to fool them if they were two years older.
"Alright, spend some time with your dragon." Aemon fixed his eyes on the entrance to another dragon pit, where several silver-haired boys were gathered.
While father and son were talking, Daeron and young Aegon entered the dragon pit and, under Aemond's expectant yet anxious gaze, led out a pink sow. The sow had a plump head and large ears, and her large backside swayed as she waddled. A rope was tied around its waist, with two brooms attached to each side, acting as wings.
"Hunk, hunk, hunk…" It grunted ingratiatingly as it was carried to Aemond.
The moment it appeared, Aemond's mood plummeted, and he lowered his head, not even daring to look at the mocking faces of his companions.
"Aemond, this is the surprise we have for you: a dangerous dragon!" Aegon couldn't contain his laughter, wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulders.
"Look! The Pink Death!" Daeron and young Aegon cheered.
Aemond closed his eyes, trying to block out his hearing.
Aegon persisted, whispering in his ear, "Be careful when you ride it; it's always difficult the first time you take to the air." He grunted twice, imitating the squeals of a pig. This brought another round of laughter from Daeron and young Aegon.
Of the four boys… no, of the five, including Jaehaerys, four of them had dragons.
Aegon had tamed Sunfyre. Daeron had a cobalt-blue dragon, Tessarion, close to him on Dragonstone. The dragon egg in young Aegon's cradle had hatched, and a purple dragon, Stormcloud, had hatched. Now, Jaehaerys had tamed the dragon, Clear Sky.
Of the five boys, only Aemond remained alone.
Aegon's plan had succeeded, and he retreated with a satisfied smile. He also took Daeron and young Aegon, his two clueless accomplices, with him.
"Aegon!" Aemond was left standing, glaring at the sow that humiliated him.
Being a Targaryen, dragon taming is an innate gift of one's blood. From the brief family history taught by the maesters, it was known that the family had few descendants in earlier generations, and the number of dragons they owned was limited. A combination of factors had led to a low number of dragon tamers. By his generation, both the family's population and dragons had grown.
From the royal family alone, there were two legitimate dragon riders: his elder sister Rhaenyra and Aegon. Among the elders were his cousin Rhaenys and his uncle Daemon, a former dragon rider. Even among his cousins, his elder cousin Aemon Targaryen owned the world's most ferocious dragon, Vermithor, "the Bronze Fury." His younger cousin Aegon had a young dragon, Stormcloud, which he couldn't ride yet. His Velaryon cousin Laenor had Vhagar, the oldest and largest founding dragon, and his younger cousin Laenor had Seasmoke. Even his younger cousin Aemon Targaryen, following the example of the Conqueror, married both Laenyra and Rhaenyra, fathering three young dragon riders. A single family had six dragon riders.
In an environment with abundant dragon riders, Aemond, without a dragon, naturally fell to the bottom of the food chain. Furthermore, since the family had run out of suitable, unowned dragons, his father began to resent him. He often lamented why none of his three sons could even hatch an egg, unlike his nephew Aemon, whose three children each hatched an egg. He was a true model of fertility.
"Huh!" Aemond exhaled, venting the pent-up frustration in his chest.
It wasn't a delusion. It was a single, desperate thought. Aemond stared blankly at the dark dragon pit, his legs, like lead, involuntarily moving forward. Within that pit resided an unowned dragon of the same age as Vermithor.
Snap!
A large hand slapped his shoulder, the crisp sound piercing his ears. Aemond shuddered, snapping out of his trance. Looking up, he saw the handsome face of his cousin, Aemon.
"What? Lost?" Aemon asked casually.
"No, no…" Aemond stammered, unable to answer. But when he saw the other man's smile turn playful, he suddenly realized he was at the entrance to the Dragonpit. He had almost entered the pit without realizing it.
Aemon patted his shoulder, gesturing for him not to explain, and sighed, "Uncle has repeatedly warned you not to go near Dreamfyre."
"I, I know," Aemond lowered his head in shame.
What they were talking about was actually a tradition that had been passed down from the time of his great-grandfather, King Jaehaerys I. Don't tame a female dragon that can lay eggs unless necessary. Provide a relatively stable environment for the female dragon to breed more dragons for the family. This was an exception for female Targaryens. After the era of Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys, few Targaryens had female dragon riders in battle. Rhaenys and Laena were exceptions. Furthermore, Vhagar was too old and had almost ceased to lay eggs. Meleys, apart from laying a clutch of dragon eggs when she was young, had never laid dragon eggs again, like an old female dragon with no water, electricity or power.
Dreamfyre and Silverwing had become the main egg-laying force and were also the focus of the family's protection. Especially in recent years, after experiencing several wars, Viserys had attached more and more importance to this tradition and repeatedly warned his sons not to dream of taming Dreamfyre, a second-generation dragon. So that he could rely on Dreamfyre to show off his power.
"But they all have dragons!" Suddenly, Aemond's pent-up grievances finally erupted.
"A pig?" Aemon had already seen the Pink Death.
Aemond's expression shifted, like a defeated rooster, and he hung his head. "Aegon mocks me because I'm weak."
"Are you weak?" Aemon asked.
Aemond pursed his lips and whispered, "Father thinks so too."
"That's terrible," Aemon sighed helplessly. Amidst a group of brothers and sisters who all had dragons, and even nephews and nieces, Aemond, without a dragon, was indeed unique. In a Westeros that prized force, it was inevitable that he would be considered weak.
Upon hearing this, Aemond's head drooped even further.
"Don't worry too much, you're still young. Uncle and Daemon and the others all got their first dragon ride in their twenties," Aemon said honestly, smiling. "That's the normal age for dragon training." This generation of Targaryens was truly exceptional, with most training dragons by the age of twelve. Rhaenyra was the most extreme, already riding a dragon at the age of seven.
"Thank you," Aemond felt better, forcing a smile.
What was the point of using age as a soothing tactic? The family didn't lack suitable, unowned dragons. He'd still have to wait until he was twenty to hatch an egg, and another ten to grow to flight size. Even then, he'd be no match for Aegon's Sunfyre. He'd live his life as a descendant of the human race.
"Call Jer, and return to the Red Keep for dinner." Aemon saw the boy didn't take it seriously, but he couldn't care less. Resources are limited, first come, first served. To change that, the only way would be for an unowned dragon to fall from the sky and be lured into a dragon's lair with the gates locked shut.
The Red Keep.
Aemon led his son inside to see Rhaenyra, a sullen-looking woman with her arms folded.
"Wow, you're in trouble," Jaehaerys winked.
A slap!
A slap to the back of the head brought him to his senses.
"Jer, go play with your uncles," Rhaenyra glanced at Aemon and gently dismissed her son.
Jaehaerys quickly fled the scene.
Waiting for the child to leave, Aemon coughed lightly to mask his embarrassment, then stepped forward and said, "Why did you call me back so urgently? Nothing could have happened?"
"Nothing?!" Rhaenyra said rudely.
Aemon raised a brow, put his arm around her shoulders, and said domineeringly, "I'm back now, aren't I?"
"I had to give you some greasy sh*t," Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, shouldered him aside, and asked directly, "Did you see what happened in the dragon pit today?"
"Hmm," Aemon nodded slightly. It was hard not to see.
Rhaenyra said seriously, "The way they're getting along isn't right."
"Aegon's a bad boy. He played a joke that went too far," Aemon smiled.
"Jokes have to be funny to everyone." Rhaenyra's eyebrows arched, and she grabbed Aemon's collar. "They need a real man to lead them."
Aemon's mouth twitched. Who would have thought that Rhaenyra, with her secure position, would be the one who cared most about the Green children, especially Aemond, who was being bullied? Life is so unpredictable.
"Did you hear that?" Rhaenyra's almond eyes widened, her air even more domineering than Aemon's.
"Mm-hmm," Aemon replied perfunctorily. Boys fighting and engaging in social bullying are a normal part of life. Who hasn't experienced that as a child?
...Well, not Aemon.
His Highness had always held grudges, always taking action when faced with a problem. Aemond called him weak, but he was patient and resilient. He wasn't weak, but he didn't dare fight back directly. He and Aegon were only three years apart, so whether it was a sneak attack or a sack, it wouldn't be difficult for him to be a real bad brother offline. Even if Aegon retaliated afterwards, he wouldn't have ridden Sunfyre to give his younger brother a perm.
Ultimately, it came down to personality differences. Aemond was obsessed with his own struggles, believing all his suffering stemmed from his lack of dragons. He didn't acknowledge his own strengths, but instead compared his weaknesses to the strengths of others. People with this kind of personality, once they haven't fully developed self-identification, are incapable of listening to others. They're incredibly stubborn.
"We agreed to discipline them for me and my father." Rhaenyra got what she wanted, her beautiful face gleaming with a touch of innocent charm.
"Okay." Aemon gently embraced her, his eyes surveying her. Rhaenyra was clearly dressed to the nines today. She wore a fitted black, off-the-shoulder gown, her long, silver-gold hair flowing naturally down her back. Black sandals, and delicate jewelry adorned her fingers.
"I just finished a meeting with the king," Rhaenyra whispered. Her tone was slightly shy, as if sending a signal.
Aemon couldn't help but hold her tighter, a creamy sweetness lingering on his nose as he lowered his head to the crook of her snow-white neck, hidden by her silver-gold hair. Even as a mother, Rhaenyra's beauty and figure remained the most formidable of the Seven Kingdoms. Furthermore, she held a noble position, possessing an irresistible sense of accomplishment.
"Daemon's wife is about to give birth again. We can try to have a girl afterward," Rhaenyra said softly, her head tilted to Aemon's side, her arms around his neck. She felt that Aemon would prefer a daughter. She also wanted to have a daughter and even had a name in mind.
"You want a Visenya?" Aemon paused briefly upon hearing Daemon's words, then chuckled softly. Before Queen Emma died in childbirth, Rhaenyra had named her unborn child Visenya, hoping it would be a sister. After Laena gave birth, she struggled even more with whether to give up Visenya's name. In the end, she couldn't bear to do so. Laena wasn't prepared to use Visenya's name either. Baela was named a more traditional Targaryen name, while Rhaena honored his grandmother, Rhaenys.
"You guessed right," Rhaenyra said with a charming smile.
"Elbow, come with me." Without waiting for Aemon to have his dragon-sucking pleasure, Rhaenyra impatiently dragged him into the chambers. She slammed the door shut, blocking anyone's view.
Several little heads popped out from the corner of the corridor. Jaehaerys crouched at the bottom, muttering, "Fight! Fight!"
Little Aegon, Daeron, and Aemond, four heads stacked in a line.
"Is this really okay?" Aemond said with a veiled expression. He wasn't one of the three little ones; he was already a young man. Aegon hadn't come. As soon as he returned to the Red Keep, he circled around a few maids.
"Hush, don't get caught." Jaehaerys made a "hush" gesture and said nervously, "Let's go." He didn't understand, but he was shocked. He went to play with his sisters, who also brought their dragons.
The four boys disappeared in a flash. There was no trace of the conflict they had at the dragon's lair.
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