A month later, a raven brought grim news of the fall of King's Landing. Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West, had arrived with his army under the pretense of defending the king. Once he tricked the defenders into opening the gates, twenty thousand soldiers from the Westerlands poured into the city like a tide and began a wholesale slaughter.
Deep within the Red Keep, the longsword of Kingsguard Jaime Lannister pierced the Mad King Aerys from behind. From that moment on, the white-cloaked knight bore the infamous name of Kingslayer.
Princess Elia Martell and Prince Aegon had not escaped either. Soldiers from the rebel army of the Westerlands killed them as they fled. Once the unrest subsided, Lord Tywin wrapped their bodies in Lannister banners and presented them to Robert Baratheon.
When the terrible news reached Dragonstone, Queen Rhaella was sitting by a window, sewing clothes for her unborn child.
As the maester finished recounting the tragedy in King's Landing in a subdued voice, the silver needle slipped from her hand and struck the flagstones with a sharp clink.
"Aerys... Elia... little Aegon..." She repeated the names over and over, her eyes slowly losing focus as her body began to sway.
Viserys hurried forward to support Queen Rhaella. He could feel her frail body trembling.
Fortunately, three-year-old Rhaenys did not yet truly understand what death meant. Still, the solemn faces around her left her feeling frightened. Ashara gently gathered the little girl into her arms, and Rhaenys immediately buried her face against her chest, her small hands clutching the soft fabric.
An oppressive silence settled over the hall. Only the sound of waves breaking against the shore drifted in through the windows.
"We must make preparations now." Viserys turned, his voice remarkably calm. "Robert's fleet will be coming to Dragonstone soon."
Arthur tightened his grip on Dawn's hilt. "We can hold our ground. Dragonstone's castle is easy to defend and difficult to storm."
"We can't hold it," Viserys interrupted. "We have too few men and no reliable supply lines. Staying on an isolated island would only mean waiting to die."
Arthur gazed at Viserys, inwardly astonished. The composure and foresight displayed by this boy, not yet eight years old, made him glimpse a shadow of Rhaegar as he had once been-the same wisdom, the same insight.
As they argued, Ser Alliser Thorne strode into the hall. "Your Highness, a fleet has been sighted outside the harbor!"
Everyone hurried to the castle's tallest tower. Across the gloomy sea, hundreds of warships were cutting through the gray mist toward Dragonstone.
"It's the Dragonstone Fleet," Jon Darry said, recognizing the flagship's design. "They were sent to blockade the ports of the Vale and the North before the war."
Before long, everyone could make out the fleet's banners as well. They did indeed bear the three-headed dragon. Perhaps the ships had rushed back after hearing of the royal army's defeat.
"We mustn't let our guard down." Viserys swept a grave gaze across the sea. "If Robert truly means to wipe us out, he might well use false banners to deceive us."
Viserys turned to Jon Darry. "Ser Jon, you know Dragonstone better than any of us. Sorry for the trouble, but please take a squad of soldiers to confirm whether this really is our fleet."
Ser Jon accepted the order at once and hurried away with several soldiers.
Viserys then turned to Arthur Dayne. "Ser Arthur, please order the garrison to prepare its defenses, just in case."
Arthur gave Viserys a long look, then bowed solemnly and turned to arrange the defenses.
Viserys watched the distant fleet, considering the situation. In the original course of events, Dragonstone's garrison had only begun to contemplate rebellion after the storm on the day of Daenerys's birth destroyed the fleet and the queen died. But the situation was uncertain now, and there was nothing wrong with being cautious when his own life was at stake.
After a while, Ser Jon brought a middle-aged knight into the castle.
"Your Highness, this is Ser Willem Darry, commander of the Dragonstone Fleet."
Viserys paused briefly upon hearing the name. So this was the man who had escorted Viserys and his sister into exile in Essos in the original story. He had always thought it was the older Jon Darry. He could only blame the confusion on both men belonging to House Darry.
Ser Willem's armor still carried the briny smell of the sea, and his cloak was half-soaked with seawater, but his eyes shone with determination.
"Ser Darry, it is a great relief to see your fleet return safely."
Ser Willem dropped to one knee, his voice ringing out. "Your Highness, the Dragonstone Fleet awaits your command."
Viserys considered for a moment. "Ser Willem, I should have given your men time to rest and recover, but our situation is urgent. Please divide the fleet into three groups and have them take turns on watch, maintaining a tight blockade of the waters around Dragonstone. Keep a close watch on the movements of the Stormlands and Lannister fleets as well. We must also watch the fleets of the Arbor and the Iron Islands, whose allegiances remain uncertain."
"As you command, Your Highness." With that, Willem turned and left to direct the fleet.
I need to find a chance to visit Dragonmont.
Early the next morning, Viserys found Arthur Dayne in the receiving room.
"Ser Arthur, please accompany me to Dragonmont today."
"Why go to Dragonmont now?" Arthur frowned slightly in confusion. "With things as they are, remaining in the castle would be safer."
"No. Last night, I had a dream. The prophecy within it directed me to Dragonmont. Something that belongs to me is there, and it concerns the future of House Targaryen."
Viserys continued his bluff. "You must have heard that some members of House Targaryen occasionally awaken a gift called Dreamwalker. Our ancestors escaped the Doom of Valyria by following the guidance of a prophetic dream. Now that House Targaryen is in peril, I believe this is guidance from our ancestors."
In truth, his only purpose was to retrieve Blackfyre and the two dragon eggs he had discovered upon arriving at Dragonstone. On his very first night there, he had thoroughly searched Dragonstone with greensight. He had detected the presence of two dragon eggs, both on Dragonmont.
This had been House Targaryen's dragon-rearing grounds, after all, and quite a few wild dragons had once lived here. It was hardly surprising that two undiscovered dragon eggs remained.
Since Arthur had recently sensed something unusual about Viserys, he chose to trust him this once. He took several dozen guards and accompanied Viserys to Dragonmont.
Viserys led them deep into a cave, then pretended to discover Blackfyre, which he had hidden beforehand, in a concealed crevice. The Valyrian steel sword gleamed darkly.
"This is..." Arthur drew in a sharp breath.
Viserys studied the blade with feigned surprise. "Could this be our family's long-lost Blackfyre?"
This time, Arthur was truly shocked. It seemed Viserys really did possess some extraordinary gift. A new measure of respect entered his gaze as he looked at the boy.
"Fate's guidance has not yet ended." Viserys led them farther into the volcano. The deeper they went, the stronger the smell of sulfur became, and the air grew scorching hot. "It's too hot here, Your Highness. We should be mindful of the danger," Arthur said, wiping sweat from his brow.
Unmoved, Viserys continued forward. Around a bend, a small lava spring appeared before them. Dark red molten rock flowed slowly within the pit, radiating suffocating waves of heat. Yet Viserys did not feel hot. From beginning to end, all he felt was warmth.
"Your Highness!" Arthur rushed forward to stop him, but Viserys had already reached out with both hands and plunged them into the searing lava without hesitation.
Before everyone's horrified eyes, Viserys calmly lifted two dragon eggs from the lava. Their shells gleamed strangely in its glow. One was as deep red as blood, its rough shell tightly entwined with spiraling crimson and dark gray patterns that contrasted sharply. The other had a bronze-colored base covered in smoky dark green patches and markings, as though scorched by fire.
"The true dragon bloodline does not fear fire," Viserys said calmly, his hands completely unharmed.
Arthur dropped to one knee, and the soldiers who had accompanied them followed suit. In that moment, it was as though an ancient legend had come to life before their eyes.
Here stood a true dragon.
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