The Unexpected (I)

That icy feeling of suffocation came before consciousness.

Aemond Targaryen opened his eyes and found himself sprawled on a cold, damp stone floor.

A dull ache throbbed in his forehead, and the faint smell of blood filled his nostrils.

Memories of a life that wasn't his stabbed into his mind like icicles.

Not long ago...

He had been riding Vhagar through a raging storm...

" Aemond! You thief! Coward!"

"What right does a thief like you have to call us bastards?"

The childish but furious shouts dragged him back to reality.

Aemond pushed himself up, clutching the wooden sword he had taken, and looked at the three boys and two girls standing before him.

At their head stood Jacaerys Velaryon, brown-haired and brown-eyed, handsome, but now contorted with fury.

Behind him were his younger brother Lucerys and the even younger Joffrey. All three glared at Aemond.

They were bruised, too. It was obvious they had just been through a brawl.

There were also two white-haired, purple-eyed girls—Rhaenyra and Baela, the children of Prince Daemon Targaryen.

And Aemond was the second son of King Viserys I and Queen Alicent Hightower.

Everyone was soaked through and covered in mud.

The marks made it clear: he had just been ambushed by five against one.

Five people had ganged up on him alone.

At that moment, the scratch marks on Aemond's left cheek stung fiercely.

Aemond held the wooden sword he had taken in a tight grip.

"Say something, you despicable coward!" Lucerys stepped forward, fists clenched.

"You thief!"

"You stole something that belongs to House Velaryon!"

"That was our mother's dragon!"

"Vhagar doesn't belong to you!"

The transmigrator's understanding collided with the original owner's memories.

Aemond understood at once: this was the Dragonpit on Tidepool Island.

As for what had just happened?

The original owner had mounted Vhagar, the oldest living dragon of House Targaryen, and soared through the storm.

No, that wasn't all.

He knew what would happen next: a fight, an accident, an eye.

Then the seeds of hatred would be planted here, eventually growing into a poisonous tree that would destroy the entire kingdom...

In that sequence of events, he lost an eye.

But what about now?

"I didn't steal her," Aemond said, his voice hoarse but calm, carrying a severity no twelve-year-old should have possessed. "The dragon chose me."

"Vhagar chose me."

"And besides, dragons have never belonged to House Velaryon."

"Dragons belong to House Targaryen alone."

"Don't forget, it was House Targaryen that gave you the right to ride dragons."

"And about what I just said, calling you bastards..."

"As your uncle, I apologize."

The children were momentarily stunned.

They had no idea what to make of Aemond's sudden rebuttal and apology.

Jacaerys was the first to recover.

"Lies!"

"Thief!"

"You should be ashamed!"

"King Viserys gave Rhaenyra and Baela the right to claim their mother's former dragon first!"

That left Aemond at a loss for words.

It was true: the king had granted them first claim.

And he had ridden the dragon without permission. After all, once a dragon bonded with a rider, it would not accept another unless its former rider died.

But the original owner had done that. What did it have to do with him now?

Seeing that he had no answer, the children looked pleased with themselves.

Lucerys took things further.

"You're just like your whore of a mother—a despicable thief!"

"Trying to steal the throne, steal a dragon, steal everything that should belong to my mother!"

Those words ignited something deep within Aemond.

The emotion wasn't the transmigrator's. It was years of humiliation, anger, and loneliness that the original owner had bottled up.

Ever since he was little, his older brother Aegon had joined those three boys in mocking him, saying he was fit only to ride a pig and calling him a freak.

Now they had insulted Queen Alicent, the mother he loved most, in front of everyone.

The humiliation left behind in his heart erupted like a volcano. No matter how calm he tried to remain, he couldn't hold it back.

It was a dangerous fury that robbed him of reason.

Aemond could feel the blood in his body boiling.

"You bastard." Aemond slowly straightened. He was half a head taller than Lucerys, his wet silver hair clinging to his cheeks. His purple eyes fixed on Lucerys, murderous intent plain in his gaze.

"Say that again. If you dare."

Aemond's presence intimidated Lucerys, but when he heard himself called a bastard,

the boy's hot blood immediately clouded his judgment. "I said, you and your—"

Before he could finish, Aemond moved.

Lucerys had been ready for him,

but Aemond slipped aside to dodge Lucerys's punch, then drove a heavy elbow into his ribs.

Lucerys grunted and doubled over.

Seeing his younger brother hit, Jacaerys roared and charged.

But Aemond grabbed Lucerys by the shoulder and shoved him hard into Jacaerys.

The two boys collided and staggered backward.

Rhaenyra, Baela, and Joffrey picked up stones from the floor of the Dragonpit and hurled them at Aemond.

Aemond couldn't dodge in time and was struck several times.

But he didn't press his advantage. What little reason he had left told him he couldn't keep fighting.

If they carried on, with tempers like theirs, someone was bound to bleed.

Just as in the original story, he would lose an eye.

He didn't want trouble, but he wouldn't let them walk all over him either.

"How dare you!" Lucerys panted from the ground, eyes bloodshot.

Jacaerys, as the eldest brother, saw his younger brother lose control and could only charge in alongside him.

They rushed him again, more savagely this time. The three boys grappled, knocking over a bronze candelabrum beside the Dragonpit's wall.

The candelabrum crashed to the floor. Its flames flickered, casting huge, twisted shadows that writhed together across the stone walls.

When Rhaenyra and Baela saw things getting out of hand, the two girls let out piercing screams, hoping to summon the guards from Storm's End.

Seeing his two older brothers fighting Aemond, Joffrey tried to rush in and help.

In the midst of the struggle, Aemond unconsciously kicked Joffrey away.

Joffrey rolled across the floor and burst into tears.

"You damn bastard!" Lucerys roared, furious as he watched his youngest brother get kicked away and cry.

Jacaerys's eyes also turned red.

A helpless fury welled up inside Aemond.

He hadn't wanted this. Why did they have to push him so far?

Fists, nails, knees... The children had lost control, and the fight quickly escalated into a struggle to the death.

Aemond felt a fist slam into his cheekbone, and his ears began to ring.

But he also seized Lucerys by the hair and slammed his head hard against the floor.

Once, twice.

Lucerys's head split open, and blood poured out.

"You bastard! Let go of my brother!" Jacaerys crashed into him from the side.

Aemond was knocked away, his back slamming into the stone wall. A dull pain surged through him.

His vision darkened.

Amid the chaos, Aemond caught sight of something in Lucerys's hand...

It was a dagger set with obsidian and pearls.

It could easily cut through flesh, cartilage, even... an eye.

Lucerys had gotten back to his feet, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and charged at him again.

Nothing remained on that youthful face but pure hatred...