The Red Keep — Maegor's Holdfast — the royal apartments.
Maegor's Holdfast was a massive square fortress hidden deep within the heart of the Red Keep—a castle within a castle. The royal family resided here. Twelve-foot-thick stone walls encircled it, along with a dry moat bristling with iron spikes, making it a fortress nearly impossible to breach.
King Jaehaerys II, the queen, Princess Rhaella, and the young prince Rhaegar all lived within these walls. Since the disappearance of the dragons, the royal family had increasingly favored life behind closed doors, rather than travel or adventure. Two members of the Kingsguard stood watch at the drawbridge day and night, guarding the entrance and attending the king at all hours.
The Dragonkings had long since shed the arrogance of demigods and dragonriders, slipping fully into the role of mortal monarchs.
For House Targaryen, this was not entirely a blessing.
In earlier generations, kings like Jaehaerys the Conciliator had flown dragons as far as the North. Those days now lived only in song and memory. As the royal house lost its divinity, the awe of the nobles faded with it.
"Father, Rhaegar seems to have dreamed of a dragon."
Early the next morning, Princess Rhaella, holding the young prince in her arms, hurried to King Jaehaerys II. Dragon dreams were not unheard of—but for a child this young, such a dream came far too early.
"A dragon dream?"
The king studied his grandson closely. Dragon dreams were mysterious things—always entwined with the blood of the dragon.
"Listen to me, child," Jaehaerys said slowly. "You must forget such things. When Rhaegar grows older, he too must forget all traces of dragons."
His fear of dragon dreams far outweighed any longing.
In his youth, he had heard too many tragedies born of prophecy and obsession—his uncle Prince Aerion Brightflame, and his father King Aegon V. He did not wish such fates upon his children or grandchildren.
Princess Rhaella nodded in agreement.
The tragedy of Summerhall was the clearest and most painful example. The old king's madness for dragons had overwhelmed his reason, costing countless lives and nearly extinguishing the royal line itself.
After the dragons vanished, House Targaryen had tried too many times—committed too many follies—in the desperate hope of awakening sleeping dragon eggs.
The Dragonkings had attempted again and again to bring them back. Some were made fools. Others paid with their lives.
Nine mages once crossed the Narrow Sea to hatch the dragon eggs stored by Aegon III.
Baelor the Blessed prayed before eggs for half a year.
Aegon IV crafted wooden and iron dragons.
Prince Aerion Brightflame drank wildfire, believing it would transform him into a dragon.
King Aegon V lit the fires of Summerhall.
The mages failed.
Baelor's prayers went unanswered.
The wooden dragons burned.
Aerion died screaming.
Aegon V's obsession led to the near extinction of House Targaryen.
"…But now," Jaehaerys said softly, "there are secrets you must be shown."
He led Rhaella and Rhaegar to the most remote storeroom within the castle.
Inside were relics of past Dragonkings—kept for remembrance and reverence. Ancient three-headed dragon helms, swords, spears, shields, and private seals lay in quiet repose.
The king stopped before a display of armor that seemed utterly ordinary. Red and gold suits stood together, dulled by dust and age. Once glorious, they now lacked care and luster, their owners long gone.
With effort, Jaehaerys shifted one red suit aside.
He lifted a fine Myrish carpet, brushed away the dust, and beneath the red stone floor revealed—
A hidden passage.
Descending the steps, the king gestured for Princess Rhaella to follow him into the depths.
The Red Keep was infamous for its secret tunnels—corridors of traps, conspiracies, blood, and betrayal.
But Maegor's Holdfast was different.
Its defenses severed it completely from the rest of the castle's hidden ways. No tunnel was meant to reach it.
And yet—
Beneath it lay a secret chamber.
Many believed the dragon eggs had been hidden on Dragonstone. Others thought they were concealed somewhere beyond King's Landing.
No one imagined they had been gathered and sealed beneath Maegor's Holdfast itself.
The king lit a lamp.
It illuminated a small chamber with an arched ceiling. Black racks made from dragonbone formed a grid—and upon them rested scattered dragon eggs.
They gleamed like gemstones, priceless beyond measure.
In all the known world, no house possessed more dragon eggs than House Targaryen. Though some had been stolen in history, and others lost during the Dance of the Dragons, the Targaryens still held the greatest hoard.
A gold-and-silver egg etched with flame patterns—once belonging to Aerion Brightflame, who later died drinking wildfire.
A white egg with green whirl patterns—Aegon V's, used in his Summerhall experiments, without success.
A red egg speckled with gold and black spirals—once stolen by a Hand of the King, then recovered by the agents of Lord Brynden Rivers, Bloodraven.
And five small eggs—dull, faintly green, their patterns pale and unimpressive.
These were said to have been laid by the last dragon.
She was a sickly green she-dragon—small, malformed, with withered wings and a frail body. She lived only a short time. After her death, summers grew shorter, winters longer, and the cold deepened across the world.
"This," Jaehaerys said quietly, "is the true treasury of our house. Though no dragon has hatched, as long as these eggs exist, our hope endures."
"When all roads fail, these eggs may be sold as wealth—to raise armies, to reclaim what is lost. But never," his voice hardened, "never cling to the delusion of summoning dragons and riding them once more."
As he spoke, his hand rested gently on an egg.
Rhaegar reached out with his small fingers.
Cold. Smooth.
Lifeless.
Dragon eggs might never hatch—but they remained the world's hardest currency. One egg could buy a great warship with ease. Even without living dragons, the remnants of their power were still priceless.
"Yes, Father," Princess Rhaella said softly.
She understood. The king trusted neither Aerys nor Rhaegar fully—afraid they might one day fall into the same madness.
"I would rather you accept that dragons are gone," Jaehaerys said, sorrow thick in his voice, "than lose yourselves to the insanity of trying to bring them back."
Achievement Unlocked: Explorer
(You have seen the greatest collection of dragon eggs in the known world—priceless treasures, sleeping in silence.)