The Answers Seemed Right, Yet Wrong

"This is the prophecy of the Song of Ice and Fire."

Viserys patiently explained, "Before Aegon died, the last Fire Mage of Valyria hid his song inside a dagger."

"Knowing this is a responsibility, and an immense burden."

"More important than the throne and the king!"

As he spoke, he watched Rhaegar's every move.

In the bright firelight, father and son's shadows stretched and grew.

As the wind stirred the flames, they twisted and shifted.

Rhaegar blinked, bewildered. "The Song of Ice and Fire? I thought that was superstitious nonsense made up in a book."

He did know about the Song of Ice and Fire.

Earlier, when he explored the Dragon Horn Dagger, the System prompt had mentioned that the dagger held the Song of Ice and Fire.

And the relic he had obtained through exploring it had been called "The Old Man's Warning."

Now, it seemed to carry a deeper meaning.

Viserys said gravely, "The prophecy is real. I want you to keep it in your heart and stay ever watchful for the unknown darkness and winter."

"I will, Father."

Rhaegar didn't understand the details, but he realized it was important.

Viserys paced around the brazier, hesitating. "I once asked Rhaenyra a question. Do you want to know what it was?"

"What was it?"

His father's words were growing more and more abstruse. Rhaegar couldn't make sense of them and asked instinctively.

"About dragons. What she thought of them!"

At this point, Viserys had no reason to stop. He continued, "Dragons are ancient creatures who have followed the Targaryen family since Old Valyria. They are magnificent, yet flawed."

"What do you think of them?"

Rhaegar shook his head. "My dragon egg hasn't hatched, and my sister won't let me ride on her dragon. The closest I've ever come to a dragon was Balerion's skull."

As a Targaryen, he had a dragon egg of his own.

It had come from a great dragon named Dreamfyre.

Before he was born, Rhaenyra had personally chosen it from the Dragonpit.

All these years later, the egg still showed no sign of hatching.

Viserys didn't care about that. He stressed, "That doesn't matter. Just tell me what you think of dragons."

Looking at his father's serious expression,

Rhaegar knew this was important.

He thought of Balerion's enormous skull.

Even without its scales and flesh, facing the skull still inspired a crushing sense of awe.

Then there was his own dragon egg.

It sat in a specially made brazier, baking without fear of the heat, its shell hard and unyielding.

It was quite unlike the bird eggs and chicken eggs he had seen.

And finally, there was Rhaenyra.

At seven years old, she had already ridden a dragon through the sky and become a dragonrider.

Whenever he saw her and was close to her,

Rhaegar could smell a faint stench of sulfur.

He knew it was the scent of a dragon.

After a brief pause, Rhaegar gathered his thoughts and answered, "Dragons are the most powerful weapons in the world that can be controlled. Even with his extraordinary wisdom and courage, King Aegon the Conqueror united the Seven Kingdoms on dragonback."

"Dragons are dangerous, but only by mastering them can the Targaryens rise above ordinary people."

"Otherwise, they're bound to fall from the Iron Throne."

He meant every word.

It was also the most objective answer he could give at the moment.

Viserys listened carefully. A trace of relief appeared on his face as he asked again, "If one day you ride a dragon and face a rebellion by those who refuse to show you respect, how would you respond?"

"Burn them to death!"

Rhaegar replied without hesitation.

"You said dragons were dangerous?"

Viserys frowned.

Rhaegar saw nothing wrong with his answer. "But without dragons, the Targaryens can't use their authority to cow the rabble."

"When necessary, Dragonflame will destroy those who refuse to obey and make sure Westeros has only one voice."

Hearing his eldest son's resolve, Viserys fell silent.

From a practical standpoint, Rhaegar wasn't wrong.

The Targaryen family could never have become kings of the Seven Kingdoms without the help of dragons.

But whenever he thought of the prophecy of the Song of Ice and Fire,

he was reluctant to rely too heavily on dragons.

Old Valyria had believed that its mastery of dragons made it invincible, yet its greed and ambition could never be satisfied.

That had brought about a cataclysm that destroyed the world.

He remembered the question he had asked a few years ago, shortly before naming Rhaenyra his heir.

He had asked her the same thing.

Rhaenyra's answer had been much like Rhaegar's first response.

But she understood the relationship between dragons and the Targaryens more clearly.

She didn't believe that mastering dragons meant you could have everything.

Her nature was much like her father Viserys's. Neither of them liked war, and both held themselves to high standards.

By contrast, Rhaegar's answer was similar to one man's.

Daemon Targaryen.

His younger brother.

To be honest, for a time he had considered naming Daemon his heir.

Setting aside Daemon's unfaithful and dishonorable deeds against him,

Daemon's views on dragons were extreme.

To him, a dragon was a sword in his hand.

A deadly weapon in your grasp stirs the urge to kill.

With a peerless weapon like that in his hands, he would sooner or later lose control of his desires and start a war.

For some reason, Viserys felt a surge of jealousy.

As Rhaegar looked at him in confusion, he said calmly, "I understand what you mean. Don't forget the prophecy of the Song of Ice and Fire. Go get some rest."

Rhaegar didn't press him. "All right. You should drink less too, Father."

Viserys smiled kindly as he watched him leave the tent.

In the dim firelight, his face was indistinct.

Outside the tent, the midday sun shone on Rhaegar's face.

The glare made him squint.

A shadow fell over him, shielding him from the dazzling light.

"Ser Arryk."

Rhaegar tilted his head and saw who was blocking the sun.

Arryk held his white cloak over the little prince's head and said sincerely, "Thank you for pleading for my brother, Prince."

Rhaegar shook his head gently. "Don't say that. I forced Ser Illyric to take me out of the camp. He shouldn't be held responsible for it."

"The Kingsguard follow the king's orders. My brother failed in his duty, and that was a serious offense."

Arryk was a clever man. He realized how important the prince was to the king and treated him with great respect.

"Where's Ser Illyric?"

Rhaegar changed the subject.

Arryk replied, "There was a commotion at the camp entrance just now. He went to check it out."

"If there's something going on, I want to see it too."

Rhaegar grew interested, but remembered to add, "My father's still inside. Keep a close eye on him, Ser."

"It's my duty."

Arryk raised a hand in salute.

After leaving the royal tent, Rhaegar didn't go straight to see what was happening.

First, he picked through the tables of pastries and roast meat, eating until he was about seven-tenths full.

He had been traveling since early morning and had only drunk a few sips of water.

Poor little motherless me.

"Rhaegar!"

He was waiting by a barbecue when he heard Rhaenyra's voice behind him.

Rhaegar turned around and was startled.

Rhaenyra was covered in blood. Her silver hair was stained black with dried blood, as if she had just survived a battle.

"Rhaenyra, what happened to you?"

Rhaegar forgot all about the meat and hurried over on his little legs.

"I went looking for you yesterday, but I couldn't find you."

Rhaenyra tapped him on the forehead and warned, "You should call me Sister. You shouldn't call me Rhaenyra, and you shouldn't go wandering around."

"Why are you worrying about that now? Where are you hurt? Is it bad?"

Rhaegar anxiously checked her for injuries.

Rhaenyra lifted his chin, proud. "This isn't my blood. I'm not hurt."