It was dusk.
The royal ship, enjoying favorable winds, docked at Dragonstone's harbor. The entire family disembarked, then waded across the golden sands to the gates of the long stone steps.
The gates were magnificent, flanked by giant dragon statues carved from jet-black dragonstone.
With a rumble, the guards slowly opened the gates and formed two lines to welcome the king and his family.
"Let's go. We'll get some rest at the Drum Tower."
Viserys, his face pale, walked ahead. It was his old seasickness again.
Alicent, expressionless, shuffled along, even faster than her husband. Anyone with a discerning eye could immediately tell that they had a disagreement.
"What's going on?" Aemon grabbed hold of the lively Jaehaerys.
The young ones, new to Dragonstone, had long yearned for this ancestral land of dragons and were fantasizing about punching dragon cubs and kicking dragon eggs.
"Grandpa was talking about a marriage between my eldest uncle and my youngest aunt," Baena answered first.
"Yes," Rhaena nodded her head vigorously.
The two joined forces, resolving Aemon's doubts. As the Green children grew older, their uncle had always been particularly concerned about their marriages. Helena had tamed Dreamfyre, becoming a noble dragon rider. His uncle, having discarded the idea of marrying his daughter off, decided to let Aegon, a dragon rider of the same age, take advantage.
Brother-sister marriages foster internal strife. It was an old Targaryen tradition.
"Though Alicent doesn't seem to agree," Aemon whispered to Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra's earlobes tickled with the heat, and she flinched, saying matter-of-factly, "Who would want to marry a child who never grows up, even if he has a dragon?"
Aemon thought for a moment, then said seriously, "Many people."
"Move aside," Rhaenyra said, her face swollen.
Aemon remained unmoved, extending his hand in invitation. From Alicent and Rhaenyra to the young children, the stereotype of Aegon as a hopeless case was deeply ingrained. With such an approach, he truly is Rhaenyra's good brother, the kingdom's good second son. How could you dislike him?
Aemon shook his head repeatedly. Can't you be a little more tolerant and understanding? Tanking is part of life!
The family walked along a long, misty stone staircase. Below them was a ridge covered in greenery, and in the distance, the Stone Drum Tower, nestled against the Dragon Mountain. Listening to the crash of the tide against the ridge, it felt like a dream.
"Shhhh!"
Suddenly, a sharp explosion erupted.
Viserys, walking in front, looked up curiously. Amidst the drifting mist, a crimson dragon flashed by, moving as swift as fire. Strangely, the dragon didn't seem large. Even against the hazy clouds, it looked quite small.
"A new dragonling?" Viserys stopped and tilted his head slightly towards his daughter and nephew.
Rhaenyra looked bewildered. "No eggs had hatched when I was here last time." Those were the recently hatched dragons.
Viserys forced a smile and nodded repeatedly, "The family is thriving."
Empirically speaking, black and red dragons are more aggressive and tend to grow faster. For years, no one knew whether Caraxes was alive or dead after entering the Lonely Mountain. Having a gifted red dragon in the family would benefit future generations.
"Newborn dragons must be recorded," Aemon interjected. The dragon keepers are somewhat remiss in their duties; newly hatched dragons should be reported immediately.
Behind the crowd, Aemond gazed at the clouds, a flicker of desire in his eyes. With an unattached dragon, his chances of mounting a dragon's back increased.
They then entered the Stone Drum Tower.
Three days later.
Dragonstone, the open plains of the eastern coast.
"Hiss!"
"..."
Several enormous dragons soared in the sky, each a different size and scale color. Some guests looked up, recognizing their origins.
Topaz-colored Syrax, scarlet Meleys, pale silver Seasmoke. On the slopes of the plain, several dragons also crouched.
The magnificent Dreamfyre stood tall, while halfway up the mountain crouched another majestic, golden dragon.
Shining Sunfyre, a newcomer to the dragon clan. Its golden scales, its radiant pale pink wings, and its slender, graceful form perfectly exemplified the saying "beauty is justice."
Standing just over twenty meters tall, it was a young male, barely reaching adulthood. Such a majestic dragon, and its rider was...
"Why don't you start? I'm thirsty."
Aegon shrugged and tilted his head at the solemn funeral, chirping impatiently.
"Aegon!" Aemond, standing nearby, whispered to stop him.
But it was no use. No one present was deaf; they had already heard it.
Daemon, clad in resplendent black, stood at the forefront, gazing at the tightly bandaged body lying on the woodpile. Hearing his nephew's mumbling, he gave him a cold sidelong glance.
Viserys, standing beside him, felt a surge of embarrassment on his face. He turned and glared at Aegon fiercely.
Aegon shrank back in fear.
What a worthless wretch!
Viserys cursed inwardly, resting his hand on his brother's shoulder and whispering soothingly, "Think positively. I've been there, too."
It was a perfect moment. His late wife, Queen Emma, had also died by cesarean section, cremated in the same location.
"I didn't choose," Daemon said to himself, his expression low and to himself.
Viserys didn't understand at first, but after pondering it, his expression changed slightly.
"Today we gather at Dragonstone to bury Lady Marana of House Rogar..."
Elsewhere, Lysandra Rogar, with a weathered face, read the eulogy, personally bidding his daughter farewell. Like a loving father, he clearly recounted his daughter's life story.
She was beautiful as an elf, possessed of noble character, and had the thirst for knowledge of a wise man... Finally, he emphasized her marriage to Prince Daemon of Lys, bearing him two children, and ending her short but tragically beautiful life.
A long time had passed since the eulogy ended.
"Go," Viserys turned and gave his nephew a look.
Aemon was also dressed in rich black, with a black cape draped over his right shoulder, his attire solemn and dignified. At the signal, he stepped forward.
"Hiss—"
On the shore, a huge bronze dragon with indifferent pupils moved its huge body and slowly crawled over.
"Dracarys!"
Aemon spoke clearly and gave the order.
Vermithor spread his brown wings, and dragon's mouth spurted out a billowing dragon flame like molten copper. The firewood and the remains ignited together, and wisps of ashes floated in the air.
When it was all over, Daemon was gone.
"Go and keep the guests company," Viserys reminded quietly.
Regardless of their relationship, Daemon and Aemon were undeniably father and son by blood. Without Daemon's dragons, Vermithor would take over. Without Daemon's men, Aemon would be responsible for the reception.
Aemon nodded and led the funeral guests to the designated shore. Even in Westeros, funeral feasts were a tradition.
Amidst the bustling banquet, a man sat quietly in a tapestry-draped pavilion.
"Handloom, green thread, black thread, dragon's flesh and blood, weaving dragon's thread..."
Helena knelt in a small ball, muttering to herself, clutching a found shell and a small spider.
"She's nothing like us," Aegon said, pointing his drink at Helena from outside the pavilion, his tone filled with disdain.
He wore green clothes and a green cloak, while the other wore green clothes and a black cloak. No one, even a normal person, would be so mystical.
"She's our sister," Aemond emphasized solemnly, standing beside him. Although his sister was always lost in her own world, he still cared.
"Then you marry her," Aegon scoffed.
Aemond, his expression unfazed, replied simply, "If Mother asks us to marry, I will do my duty."
On their first night on Dragonstone, their father and mother made their marriage public. Aegon was asked directly if he would marry Helena, and the siblings, following family tradition, did not give any advance notice. Aegon had just finished his meal and savored the beautiful maid who had served them in the Stone Drum Tower. The awkwardness of the situation was foreseeable. But as the patriarch, Viserys's proposal was a sure thing. Any reluctance was only dared to be discussed privately.
"If?" Aegon scoffed at his younger brother's response.
Aemond bowed his head slightly and said seriously, "It will strengthen the family, preserving the pure blood of the Valyrian dragonlords, just like Rhaenyra and Aemon."
It was unclear whether these words were addressed to Aegon or to himself. Deep down, he perhaps preferred siblings to brothers.
"She's an idiot. Don't think taming a dragon will change her." Aegon refused to listen, his tone escalating.
"She's your future wife," Aemond retorted immediately, "and her dragon is bigger than Sunfyre. You have no strengths to be proud of."
Aegon's face darkened at this. But it didn't matter. He had more than a hint of evil in mind. His sensitive mind only heard the word "strengths." He turned and intercepted a handmaid's offer of red wine, saying with interest, "Speaking of strengths, we do have one thing in common."
He faced the handmaid, but his words were meant for his brother. Aegon had a vague suspicion that he hadn't held back his fart.
Snap!
Aegon grabbed the handmaid's buttocks and said playfully, "That is, you and I both like long-legged beauties."
With that, he strayed away, glass in hand, as the handmaid fled in panic. He wasn't pinching the handmaid's hips, but Aemond's weakness. After bullying Aemond in the Dragon's Lair, Aegon, who considered himself a good brother, took him to the largest and most luxurious brothel in King's Landing as compensation. Not only did he pay the bill handsomely, he even personally coached him. The two brothers were in the same business, so why act so noble? Idiot Number Two, who didn't even have a dragon.
"Aegon!"
Aemond's face paled and sank at the revelation, his aura changing. He couldn't hide the stab wound in his eyes.
"What a show!" Aemon clung to the nearby fence and smacked his lips. He desperately needed a melon.
"What are you looking at?" Rhaenyra rolled up her sleeves and emerged from the nearby tent.
"Everything settled?" Aemon asked, taking a quick look.
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and said, "Some people are just hands-off bosses, suspecting their employees of their lack of dedication."
Aemon quickly offered a polite response. Daemon had certainly not brought only his deceased wife's body and his father-in-law with him when he crossed the Fjord. The second child, born at the risk of her life, was also brought back to Westeros. A delicate boy, he was named Viserion Targaryen. As a courtesy to his uncle, he wasn't called "Little Viserys," but rather a homophonic name to commemorate him. As agreed, this boy would also be raised by Aemon.
"Tell me, what's all this fuss about?" Rhaenyra asked.
"It was all my uncle's decision." Aemon raised an eyebrow, motioning her to look at Helena and Aemond, who seemed to be waiting for his husband.
Rhaenyra immediately realized, empathizing, "Alison can't handle the pressure; she'll agree sooner or later."
She had been on a blind date tour across the country, and her father had almost forced her into a match with a wealthy nobleman with a fortified castle. Helena was worse off, forced to choose between her incompetent brothers. She would have preferred to flee on her dragon.
Not far away, Rhaenys entertained guests with a glass of wine, accompanied by the elderly Sea Snake, chatting and laughing with the passing guests.
Rhaenys saw it all, smiling. If you find it yourself, you can use it with confidence.
Looking around, there was another couple of elders entertaining guests. Viserys, tired from the journey, took a break from his busy schedule in a chair, occasionally smiling at the guests who brought him a toast.
Alicent stood at the other end, guarded by the White Knight Cole and her father Otto. Whenever she thought of Viserys's presumptuous behavior, her face would unconsciously darken a little.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the couple almost had the word "quarrel" plastered on their foreheads.
"You stay here, I'll go entertain the ladies." Rhaenyra kissed Aemon's cheek, taking on the responsibility of being the crown prince.
Aemon returned the hug, her emotional value overflowing. Details determine success or failure.
A corner Aemon couldn't see.
The Sea Snake sifted through the crowd, accurately finding his two identical granddaughters. Meanwhile, Baena and Rhaena were with their brother Jaehaerys.
"Lord Corlys."
Seeing the Sea Snake approach, Jaehaerys tactfully walked away.
Baena and Rhaena looked up at their grandfather in bewilderment.
Before her marriage, Laena had many disagreements with her father, so after marriage, she spent most of her time in the Dale, taking care of her husband and children. Occasionally, she would take Aemon and the twin daughters on dragon rides across the Fjords. She rarely returned to Driftmark or Tyrosh. So while the twins knew their grandfather's name well, they had only met him a handful of times.
"My title and High Tide will one day be yours, Baena," the Sea Snake said, hands behind its back, delivering a devastating blow.
Baena's eyes were dazed, and she clenched her sister's hand. Rhaena leaned on her sister and didn't understand what her grandfather was saying.
The Sea Snake was of course aware of the innocence of the three-year-old girl, and said softly: "I think you know that your brother will become king and attend countless royal meetings and celebrations."
The twins nodded in unison. Jaehaerys's mother was their aunt and godmother, and the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms. In short, it was very cool.
"Perhaps you don't know that before your father and mother got married, they promised me a promise." The Sea Snake did not hide it and explained it directly: "The first child they give birth to will be adopted into the Velaryon family and inherit the earldom and the entire city of Climax."
Baena: ! !
It's over, come for me.
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