Visitors from the Citadel
This morning, the morning light at Dragon's Roost Port carried the unique dampness of a wet marsh after a rain. As this dampness quietly spread across the newly paved pier stones, it happened to fall on a roll of parchment on Daemon's desk.
It was a reply from Vaegon Targaryen, sent from his voyage to the Citadel. The raven's feathers were still stained with salt from the Narrow Sea, and the ink was so fresh it looked as if it had just been written.
Daemon's fingertips lightly brushed across the rough pages. Vaegon's handwriting was as neat as ever, carrying a touch of the rigor unique to the Citadel maesters, yet also revealing a hint of his helplessness between the lines: "The old maesters of the Citadel" seem to be almost obsessively curious about the mystery surrounding you.
Since you traveled through the seven kingdoms of Westeros on your Gluttony and visited Oldtown, the rumors of the mysterious black dragon "Daemon Blackfire, the Blackfire Prince, the Tamed Wild Dragon King" Gluttony, changing because of his master, have spread throughout the Citadel. They searched through all the ancient Valyrian books in the Citadel but found no precedent.
However, what fascinates them even more are the mysteries surrounding you.
No one knows about your childhood or past experiences, just as no one understands why you possessed such warrior-like martial arts skills at a young age, or why you had a maturity beyond your years, and such skillful and keen military talent and tactical understanding that could be described as extraordinary.
These things can perhaps be explained by the precocity of us Targaryen, the difference between the old and new in the heavens, and the blessings of the Old Valyria gods.
But the bond you forged with the dragons, far exceeding that of ordinary people, is something not only they, but also I, cannot comprehend.
"They sent scholars to Crab Claw Peninsula, ostensibly to assist in its development, but in reality, they wanted to gather all information about you."
Your speech and mannerisms, the details of the mysterious three-headed dragon brand on your shoulder, the habits of the "Glutton King of the Wild Dragons beneath you, and even your insights into scholarship and knowledge.
These stubborn and mediocre people, who spend their lives studying what they believe to be the known, are filled with fanaticism for you, this mysterious unknown right beside them, as if you were a living fossil left over from the apocalypse of ancient Old Valyria.
At the end of the letter, Vaegon added, "Bernard has checked the list of maesters from Crab Claw Peninsula that you mentioned. Three of them are followers of the Citadel Higher Mysteries, specializing in Old Valyria ruins and dragon studies. The rest are all experts in their respective fields. Although entrusted by the old maesters, they are also pragmatic in their own way."
If you use them wisely, they will be a great help in building Dragon's Roost Port; if you need to be wary, I can have the Citadel send a message to restrain them."
Daemon put down the parchment, a faint smile playing on his lips. He had long guessed that the Citadel wouldn't send so many scholars to this wild land in the eyes of the world for no reason, but he never expected that it was his "mysterious Black Dragon" who had attracted so much attention.
In his previous life, as a Blackfyre Rebellion, he had never been subjected to such "academic scrutiny," but now he had become the "research subject" of the Citadel.
That's another kind of novel experience.
"Your Highness, Larys has brought several visiting scholars to request an audience, saying there has been new progress in the cultivation of salt-tolerant crops," Jarman Waters's voice came from outside Daemon's tent, his one-eyed man remaining vigilant. "Miss Bethany Hightower is also outside the camp with Alys Rivers, seemingly observing herbs."
Daemon looked up and, through the gaps in the tent, could see the open space on the west side of the camp.
Alys Rivers crouched in the grass, the hood of her green cloak slipped down, revealing her pale profile. She held a plant with purple buds between her fingers and was explaining something in a low voice.
Bethany, standing beside her, wore a pale green dress, her blonde hair styled in an elegant updo. She held a notebook in her hands, her pen flying across the page as she scribbled away. Her gaze, however, kept drifting toward Daemon's tent, sharp and intense, as if she were staring at a rare treasure.
That look was completely different from Alys's mysterious gaze. Alys's gaze was "seeing through," as if she could see into his hidden past yet always maintained a distance;
Bethany's eyes were "greedy," filled with a fervent desire for the unknown, as if she wanted to dismantle and devour every trace of mystery about him. The obsession that emanated from the depths of her soul made Daemon feel somewhat uncomfortable.
"Let them in." Daemon straightened his dragon scale armor, his Blackfyre slung across his waist, the dragon pattern on the scabbard gleaming dark gold in the morning light.
The tent flap was lifted, and Larys, leaning on his cane, walked in first, followed by three scholars dressed in gray robes. The chains on their chests, made of different colored materials, were today engraved with patterns of wheat ears, an astrolabe, and a medicine pot, respectively. They were clearly scholars in the fields of agriculture, astrology, and medicine, seemingly trying to prove their worth to the "academic research subjects" they were visiting.
"Your Highness, these are Allan from the Reach, specializing in agronomy;
Maester Samuel, hailing from the Westerlands, was an expert in astrology;
And there was also Maester Marvin, who, like me, came from the Riverlands and was an expert in the field of medicine.
Larys explained, tapping his cane on the ground, "They brought a report on the trial planting of salt-tolerant crops, as well as observations of the climate in Dragon's Roost Port."
Scholar Allan stepped forward first, handing over a scroll of parchment depicting farmland. "Your Highness, we have successfully planted salt-tolerant rye and peas cultivated in the Citadel on the edge of the swamp, with a survival rate of 70%. If irrigation canals are dug as planned to divert the swamp water, at least a thousand acres of fertile land can be reclaimed."
His gaze couldn't help but sweep over Daemon's shoulder beneath his clothes, as if he wanted to see the details of the mysterious three-headed dragon brand, but he dared not look directly at it due to etiquette.
Daemon took the blueprints, his fingertip pointing to the planned irrigation canal. "Very good. I will have Count Bren Berna lead a team to assist you in digging. Please ensure it is completed before the rainy season next month. As for the necessary tools, I will also have my trusted confidant Rayford Rosby from the warehouse."
Scholar Samuel continued, holding a star chart in his hands. "According to observations, the climate of the Crab Claw Peninsula is greatly influenced by the Narrow Sea, with mild winters and rainy summers, making it suitable for growing two crops a year."
"The astrological data from Lord Vaegon, transmitted from the Citadel, indicates that there will be no extreme cold wave next year, making it an ideal time to expand planting."
As he spoke, his eyes frequently darted toward the Blackfyre at Daemon's waist, clearly showing his curiosity about this legendary Valyrian steel sword.
Maester Marvin handed over a bottle of ointment. "This is an ointment we made based on Dragonblood Grass and local herbs provided by your Lady Alys. It is very effective for cuts and insect bites."
Additionally, we would like to establish a medical station at the camp to provide medical treatment for refugees and soldiers, and also to collect information on the properties of local herbs.
His gaze fell on Daemon's face, trying to glean something from his expression, as if verifying the rumor circulating in the Citadel that "the Black Dragon has the bloodline of another Old Valyria House Targaryen."
Daemon responded calmly, "The medical station will be set up as soon as possible, and the necessary manpower will be selected from literate people among the refugees."
If your research requires it, you may utilize the resources of Dragon's Roost Port, but on one condition—you must not interfere in military or political affairs, nor pry into matters you should not know.
The three scholars bowed respectfully, their eyes showing both delight and a barely perceptible hint of disappointment, clearly indicating they hadn't been able to obtain more "research material" from this mysterious Black Dragon.
After the scholars had left, Larys quietly approached and said, "Your Highness, Miss Bethany from the House Hightower has been following Alys Rivers these days, ostensibly to learn about herbs, but in reality, she's been trying to find out about you."
She asked Alys Rivers if your Dragon Mark was related to the Old Valyria runes, inquired about details of your travels through the Seven Kingdoms, and even wanted to know why the Glutton's Dragonfire turned black.
"She dares to inquire." Daemon raised an eyebrow, recalling the burning gaze Bethany had given him. "What was Alys Rivers' response?"
Lady Alys only said, "Your Highness's secret has its own owner," without revealing any further information.
A sly glint flashed in Larys's eyes. "However, Miss Bethany doesn't seem to have given up. Last night, she tried to sneak into your study but was stopped by Jarman's men. She said she wanted to borrow the ancient Old Valyria books on your desk."
Daemon chuckled softly, his fingertips tracing the hilt of the Blackfyre at his waist. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, saying, "She's as stubborn as ever. Have they made any moves from her father, the Earl Hobert, who's far away in Oldtown, or her uncle, Ser Otto, who's in King's Landing?"
The Earl of Hobert was still handling affairs in Oldtown and had not given any special instructions regarding his daughter's latest departure from King's King's Landing without notice.
Lord Otto seems to be still reflecting on things; he hasn't made any moves recently.
Larys added, "Miss Bethany hasn't told anyone about her interest in you. Even her brother Mund, who stayed with her uncle Otto in King's Landing's Landing, only thought she was studying herbs. Her cousin, Miss Alicent, also only mentioned it briefly in her letters, without going into details."
Daemon nodded, understanding. Bethany clearly knew that her "greed" should not be revealed, especially given Otto's recent setback. She didn't want to cause trouble for the family, yet she couldn't control her desire for mystery, so she could only act in secret.
"Let her be." Daemon stood up. "As long as she doesn't cross the line, it's fine for her to observe. Alys Rivers knows what she's doing and probably won't let her find out the core secrets."