The Dragonpit, Afternoon.
Under the massive arched dome of the Dragonpit, the air was thick with dust.
As Aegon landed atop Sunfyre, the resulting air currents kicked up sand from the ground, causing several nearby Dragonkeepers to stumble back.
Aegon had not seen his dragon for nearly half a year.
As soon as he returned to King's Landing, he headed straight here without even unpacking.
Sliding down from Sunfyre's broad golden back, his steps were unsteady from haste; he stumbled upon landing, only staying upright by grabbing his beloved dragon's warm forelimb.
Sunfyre, the Golden. He was over thirty meters long, with a wingspan reaching over fifty meters.
His scales were not just yellow, but a gleaming, true gold that flashed in the sunlight.
He lowered his head, his molten-gold eyes gazing tenderly at his rider.
He gently nuzzled Aegon's shoulder with his gold-covered snout while a low purr rumbled in his throat.
Aegon let out a long breath. Only on the back of a dragon, amidst the clouds, did he feel any sense of respite.
"Good lad, you're still the one who understands me best," he whispered, patting Sunfyre's hard scales before turning around.
Then, he froze in place.
There, on the open ground illuminated by the sky's light near the exit, he saw that figure.
Aemond.
His younger brother stood sideways, holding a large piece of dark red raw meat.
To the left of Aemond's position lay Vhagar, resting like a dark brown mountain with her eyes closed in a light sleep.
To the right, a hatchling dragon, entirely ink-black with scales that shimmered with a faint dark red luster at the edges, was affectionately nuzzling Aemond's hand. It was about three meters long.
It snatched the meat from his palm, making a faint shredding sound as its sharp teeth tore into it.
Aegon watched in shock.
'One person, two dragons...' He was puzzled.
How exactly was this achieved? Can a rider not have only one dragon?
Aemond had already sensed his arrival but did not look back, remaining focused on feeding the black dragon, Morghul.
Aegon steadied himself and forced himself to step forward, his boots crunching through fine sand and ash.
"How did you do it?" he asked curiously.
"One person... riding two dragons?"
Aemond still didn't turn around, his voice coming calm and steady.
"You return to King's Landing and don't go to the Red Keep? You don't go to see the mother who has missed you for half a year. Instead, you come to the Dragonpit. Aegon, in your heart, is Sunfyre warmer than the concern of a mother who loses sleep every night?"
These casual words instantly pierced through Aegon's forced facade of ease. His face flushed hot.
"When did my business become any of your concern? Who do you think you are?"
Only then did Aemond slowly turn around.
His gaze lingered for a moment on Aegon's slightly pale complexion, the faint dark circles under his eyes, and his unsteady, swaying steps.
"Tsk..."
"Riding a dragon while reeking of wine? That unnecessary sharp turn Sunfyre made in the sky just now almost made you lose your grip on the reins, didn't it?"
Aemond tilted his head slightly, assessing him.
"Unsteady on your feet? It seems your days on Driftmark had a unique flavor to them."
"You!" Aegon was stung by this observation, his shame turning into anger.
"Whose fault is it that I've ended up like this?! Was it not you, stirring up trouble on Driftmark, that caused Jacaerys to lose an eye! Would I have been kept there as a hostage otherwise?"
"You?" Aemond chuckled softly.
"I see you were quite free and happy on Driftmark. Unsupervised, acting as willfully as you pleased. Isn't this exactly the lifestyle you've always dreamed of?"
"Aemond!" Aegon's face turned bright red.
"How I live is my business! You're just a second son, what right do you have to tell me what to do!"
"Second son?" Aemond said indifferently.
"Where I fall in the line of succession is irrelevant. What matters is you, Aegon Targaryen. Do you still remember what name you bear? Do you remember the responsibilities you should shoulder?"
"Surname? Responsibility? Ha!" Aegon acted as if he'd heard the most ridiculous joke in the world.
The frustration of being detained, combined with the lingering alcohol, made him speak recklessly.
"To hell with being the Greens' eldest son! Whoever wants it can have it! Rhaenyra promised me personally that as long as I behave and don't get in her way, she will grant me the title of Prince and give me a rich fiefdom in the future!"
"If you all want to fight for that chair, to fight to the death, that's your business! Don't drag me into it!"
The Dragonkeepers in the distance had already stopped their work, looking over nervously, but no one dared to step forward.
Aemond stared at him silently for several moments, making Aegon feel an inexplicable palpitation.
Then, Aemond suddenly sneered.
His gaze moved past Aegon to rest on the magnificent, glittering golden dragon behind him.
"Sunfyre... Truly extraordinary beauty. When he spreads his wings, I fear he could dye the very sky golden."
His tone shifted as his gaze returned to Aegon's face, saying coldly:
"A pity he was blind enough to follow a... waste."
"Waste?!"
This word was like a red-hot iron, searing Aegon's most sensitive and fragile pride.
He lunged forward a few steps, reaching out to grab Aemond's collar.
"You dare call me a waste?! Aemond! You're nothing but a, "
Before he could finish, Aemond flicked his wrist, a seemingly casual push and parry.
Aegon felt a surge of force; with a cry of surprise, he stumbled back and fell clumsily onto the cold, rough ground.
He hadn't even climbed back up yet.
'Scree, Gar!'
A short, fierce hiss suddenly rang out!
Morghul, the black hatchling that had been waiting tamely at Aemond's feet, moved without warning!
With a sudden beat of his wings, his small body exploded with terrifying speed and power, like a bolt of black lightning shooting across the ground.
He leaned his head forward, slamming into the just-rising Aegon like a battering ram!
Bang!
A dull thud. Aegon felt a heavy blow to his chest and abdomen, his vision went dark, and he was thrown backward again, crashing to the ground with a dull pain in his back.
Before he could react, an even more terrifying sense of pressure descended.
Morghul had firmly pinned his chest and shoulders with his fine black-scaled foreclaws, one of which rested right beside his cheek.
The hatchling's body completely suppressed him.
That hideous black dragon head lowered, its hot breath, a mix of heavy blood and sulfur, blasting onto his face.
Red vertical pupils locked onto him coldly, a threatening growl rolling deep in its throat.
What terrified Aegon even more were a few drops of hot, viscous dragon drool.
Drip, drop.
They fell onto his forehead and cheek, bringing a slight stinging, burning sensation.
"Sunfyre!!!" he screamed in pure terror.
Not far away, Sunfyre, seeing his master restrained, instantly erupted in a deafening roar of fury!
His golden head reared high, the scales on his neck bristling in rage.
His wings snapped open as brilliant golden light nearly illuminated half the Dragonpit; his massive body leaned forward, ready to pounce!
ROAR, !!!
However, another roar, deeper, more powerful, like a physical tidal wave, suddenly swept through the entire Dragonpit, completely drowning out Sunfyre's cry of anger!
Vhagar stood up.
The mere act of rising created a suffocating wind pressure, and the ground trembled slightly.
This ancient she-dragon fully unfurled her incomparably massive body.
The shadow she cast almost entirely enveloped Aemond, Aegon, Morghul, and the nearby Sunfyre.
She slowly turned her head. Those giant, molten-gold vertical pupils filled with menace, firmly locking onto the young and spirited golden dragon.
She took a step forward.
Boom!
The heavy footfall landed like muffled thunder.
Sunfyre's roar caught in his throat.
Faced with Vhagar's absolute suppression of power and the ancient dragon-might stemming from her very bloodline, the golden dragon instinctively felt a shiver of fear.
Yet, he still bared his glinting, razor-sharp teeth, letting out a warning hiss.
His golden body trembled slightly from tension, but his spread wings unconsciously folded back, and he even took half a step backward.
"Sunfyre! Don't come over! Stop!" Aegon cried out with all his strength.
He knew all too well that Sunfyre was no match for Vhagar; if a conflict broke out, the consequences would be unthinkable!
Sunfyre let out a pained, unwilling whimper.
His golden eyes were filled with extreme anxiety as he looked at his suppressed master; hearing the command, he dared not take another step forward.
Morghul, who was pinning Aegon down, purred even louder in his throat, with the cruel intent of a predator mocking its prey.
The claw resting beside Aegon's cheek applied slight pressure, its sharp tip nearly piercing the skin.
Only then did Aemond step forward, walking unhurriedly to Aegon's side.
He looked down at his elder brother, who was pinned to the ground by the black hatchling, his face full of terror and pathetic disarray.
"I say you are a waste," Aemond said coldly, "and so you are."
Aegon looked up at Aemond, with the cold, hard dragon claw by his cheek, the hot, rank dragon breath in his nose, and the scalding, sticky dragon drool on his forehead.
All his anger, resentment, and grievance were crushed to dust at this moment by primal fear. He did not doubt that with just a thought from Aemond, this black dragon could end his life.
"...Yes," he squeezed out a single word through gritted teeth.
"I say you are, and so you are," Aemond repeated.
"...You say I am, and so I am." Aegon trembled all over, completely surrendering.
Aemond raised his hand slightly.
Morghul immediately released his grip, leaping nimbly away and landing lightly back at Aemond's feet, though his dark red vertical pupils remained locked on Aegon, his tail held high in a wary stance.
The heavy pressure and lethal threat suddenly vanished.
Aegon slumped on the ground, coughing violently, his body shaking uncontrollably from the lingering fear.
A hand was extended before him.
The fingers were long, the knuckles well-defined, steady, and strong.
Aegon raised his blurred, tearful eyes and saw Aemond looking at him.
The layer of icy frost on his brother's face seemed to have thawed slightly.
"I don't care what you think in your heart, Aegon." Aemond's expression softened a bit, yet he spoke heavily.
"But there are things you have carried since the moment of your birth, and they are unavoidable."
"Remember your identity, remember your position."
He paused, looking into Aegon's still-shaken eyes.
"Even if you truly are a piece of useless mud that can't be stuck to a wall... You are still my elder brother. If you truly reach the edge of a cliff, I will pull you back."
Aegon stared blankly at that hand, then at Aemond's serious face.
Silence permeated the damp, gloomy air of the Dragonpit.
Not far away, Vhagar lay her mountain-like body back down and closed her eyes.
Sunfyre let out anxious, low cries, but ultimately did not dare approach.
After a long while, Aegon raised his hand and grasped the one Aemond offered.
That hand was very steady and strong, pulling him up from the cold ground in one motion.
"Let's go," Aemond turned first, returning to his usual cold indifference.
"Back to the Red Keep. Mother has been waiting for you for a long time."
"Besides... Rhaenyra and her whole family have already arrived. If anyone is missing from tonight's Family Feast, the show won't be nearly as good."
Aegon laboriously brushed the dust off his clothes and finally let out a sigh.
He looked back at the frequently whimpering Sunfyre and managed to raise a hand to wave, signaling him to be at ease.
Greens and Blacks, the Iron Throne and the succession... he only wanted to live as he pleased, drinking fine wine, riding his dragon, and enjoying pleasure.
But unfortunately, he was the eldest son.
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