Rhaenyra walked in. She wore a soft white nightgown, her long silver-gold hair draped loosely over her shoulders, her violet eyes still hazy with sleep. But the moment she saw Aegon sitting by the window, his face pale and his eyes bloodshot, she was wide awake.
"Aegon?" She hurried over, her voice full of tenderness and concern. "Why are you sitting here? Were you awake all night?"
She crouched down and reached out to stroke his cheek. Her fingertips met icy skin. Her heart clenched, and she pulled Aegon into her arms, holding him tightly as she had on countless nights before, warming his cold body with her own.
"What's wrong? Were you frightened sleeping alone?" Rhaenyra's voice was impossibly gentle. She lowered her head to kiss his crown, her fingers softly stroking his hair. "You little rascal. You're afraid of the dark, yet you insisted on sleeping by yourself. Were you curled up by the window crying last night? Why didn't you come to your sister?"
She assumed he had been frightened on his first night sleeping alone, but too proud to come to her, and had stayed awake until morning. Seeing the exhaustion and bloodshot eyes, she ached for him too much to consider anything else.
Aegon leaned into her warm embrace, breathing in her familiar scent of honey and sunshine. His nerves, taut all night, finally relaxed completely. The fear, frustration, anger, and heaviness of the night all melted away in that moment.
He wrapped his little arms tightly around Rhaenyra's neck and buried his face against it, like a kitten nursing a grievance. "Sister," he murmured.
"I'm here." Rhaenyra carried him to the bed and lay down, wrapping them both in a thick blanket. She patted his back gently, soothing him as though he were a baby. "Go to sleep. Your sister's here with you. There's nothing to fear."
Aegon nestled in her arms, listening to her steady heartbeat, his eyelids growing heavier. The exhaustion of an entire sleepless night finally swept over him. Curled in Rhaenyra's embrace, he soon fell fast asleep.
Rhaenyra gazed at his sleeping little face, her eyes full of doting amusement, and bent down to kiss his smooth forehead again. She tucked the blanket around him, then brushed her fingertips over his furrowed brow, gently smoothing it.
This little fellow was still a tiny thing who couldn't do without his sister, yet he insisted on playing the grown-up, claiming he was all grown up.
Holding Aegon and listening to his steady breathing, she gradually closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.
Over the next few days, the siblings' life on Dragonstone was peaceful and settled.
Rhaenyra put aside her worries about returning to King's Landing completely. Every day, she took Aegon riding on Syrax, soaring over the Narrow Sea. Sunfyre followed behind them, his golden form tracing graceful arcs across the sky. He had grown considerably larger again, and his scales shone with an ever more dazzling molten-gold luster in the sunlight.
Aegon also used those days to test the "Wild Dragon's Friend" status.
He took Sunfyre back into the depths of Dragonstone.
Sheepstealer, the wild dragon who normally roared a warning at the sight of people, showed him no hostility at all and even left him nearly half a carcass of "stolen" mutton.
Even Cannibal, so fierce and overbearing that day on Black Beach, merely gave a low rumble when Aegon encountered the dragon again deep in a valley on Dragonmont. Cannibal showed no intention of attacking and even allowed him to approach and lightly touch those rough scales. The status seemed to have a particularly unusual effect on this "king of wild dragons."
Aegon finally understood what this seemingly useless status truly meant, and some of the distress of the past few days faded.
As one of the former "forty Dragonlords," House Targaryen possessed Dragonlord blood from Old Valyria, allowing its members to ride dragons. Yet even the purest Dragonlord blood might not be enough to tame a fiercely wild dragon.
"Wild Dragon's Friend," however, would let almost every wild dragon accept him. Even the most vicious of them, Cannibal, would bear him no hostility.
That meant every wild dragon he might encounter in the future could become a trump card.
During the Dance of the Dragons, both the Blacks and the Greens had far too few dragonriders capable of riding dragons. Otherwise, Rhaenyra would never have ordered the "Sowing of the Seeds." And now, he held the key to every dragon's lair on Dragonmont.
Perhaps the bloodline purity he had lost had not been entirely wasted.
The peaceful days did not last long.
Ravens bearing letters from King's Landing arrived on Dragonstone one after another.
In his letters, King Viserys grew more urgent each time, pressing Rhaenyra and Aegon to return to King's Landing as soon as possible. The celebration of his fifth anniversary with Queen Alicent had been set for two months later. Preparations were already underway for a grand tournament and celebratory feast, and nobles from across Westeros would gather in King's Landing. As heir to the kingdom, Rhaenyra had to return early to oversee the proceedings.
The letters also specifically instructed Rhaenyra to depart for the Vale immediately after returning to King's Landing, continue her search for a husband, and settle on a match before the celebrations began.
When Rhaenyra read those lines, her expression darkened at once. She tossed the parchment into the fireplace and watched the flames burn it to ash.
"Father is always like this." She sat by the window, her voice full of irritation. "All he thinks about is marrying me off. He never considers whether I want it."
Aegon walked over and took her hand, looking up at her with earnest violet eyes. "If you don't want to marry, then we won't. When we get back to King's Landing, I'll speak to Father with you."
Rhaenyra looked down at him, and most of her irritation instantly eased. She smiled and pinched his little cheek, her eyes soft. "All right. Whatever you say."
The next day, everyone began preparing to sail.
Tyland Lannister had already arranged everything perfectly. Supplies for the fleet, the route, the deployment of guards-every detail was handled flawlessly. He stood on deck in the harbor, a map in hand, briefing the captains on the voyage. His back was straight, his face devoid of any unnecessary expression. He was no longer the awkward youth who blushed whenever he saw Rhaenyra.
Naturally, he had noticed the unusual events on Dragonstone over the past few days.
The accidental fire at the dockside smithy, the island-wide lockdown and manhunt, and the gruesome death of the smith's bastard on Black Beach. No matter how cleanly Larys handled matters, he could not hide them from everyone. Tyland needed only a few discreet inquiries to learn what had happened, and he guessed that all of it had been the work of that four-year-old prince.
But he said nothing and asked nothing.
His disappointment at Casterly Rock had long since brought him to his senses. Love and obsession were ultimately illusions. Only the power he held in his hands, only his own abilities, were real. Now, he wanted only to fulfill his duties and escort the princess and prince safely back to King's Landing. Whatever the prince did in private was none of his concern.
Besides, his transformation owed something, at least, to the little prince's influence.
"Princess, Prince, the fleet is ready and can sail at any time." Tyland approached Rhaenyra and Aegon and bowed slightly, his tone steady. "We have plotted a direct course to Blackwater Bay. With favorable winds, we can reach King's Landing in two days. We will make no stops along the way and will not detour to Driftmark."
"Good." Rhaenyra nodded without objection. All she wanted now was to return to King's Landing quickly and stabilize the situation in the Red Keep for Aegon. For the moment, she had no inclination to visit House Velaryon on Driftmark.
Aegon nodded too. He knew Driftmark was far from peaceful at present. The war in the Stepstones was still raging, and Corlys Velaryon had committed his house's full strength to fighting the Triarchy there. Laena had gone to the Stormlands to seek aid, and he did not know whether she had returned. Laenor was also on the battlefield, leaving only his aunt Rhaenys, the "Uncrowned Queen," to hold Driftmark. A visit now would only create more trouble.
After all... Viserys, the father he had acquired, had yet to formally reconcile with Driftmark's lord...
Aegon understood perfectly well Viserys's little schemes, waiting for Daemon and Corlys to bow their heads to him. If he and Rhaenyra visited Driftmark now and became guests at High Tide, Viserys would resent it even if Corlys was absent. In the "Young King's" mind, the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms would only interpret the prince and princess's unsolicited visit to Driftmark as the king bowing to Corlys, to Rhaenys, and to the Velaryons...
With his father Viserys still controlling whether he could remain with Rhaenyra, Aegon needed his favor. He certainly did not dare suggest a visit to Rhaenyra on his own authority. In fact, before leaving Dragonstone's castle, he had specifically "warned" her about it.
Half an hour later, the fleet slowly sailed out of Dragonstone's harbor.
Syrax gave a long dragon cry and took flight from the castle's Dragonstone Yard with Rhaenyra and Aegon on her back, circling once above the fleet.
Sunfyre immediately followed, his golden form keeping close beside Syrax. The two dragons flew one behind the other, leading the fleet onward.
The sea breeze filled the sails, and the great wooden hulls cut through the waves of the Narrow Sea toward Blackwater Bay. Dragonstone's Blackstone Castle and Dragonmont gradually dwindled to a small black speck on the horizon before finally vanishing from sight.
The fleet sailed through the night across the Narrow Sea and entered the waters of Blackwater Bay at dawn the next day. Driftmark's outline was already faintly visible on the horizon.
Just then, a savage, piercing dragon cry suddenly rang out overhead.
The sound carried a bloodthirsty ferocity, slicing straight through the clouds like a poisoned blade.
Syrax instantly grew alert in the sky. She beat her immense wings hard to warn the ships below, a low warning roar rising from her throat.
Sunfyre, on deck, immediately tensed as well. His golden scales bristled, and he gave a young but resolute answering cry toward the source of the roar.
Aegon snapped his head up and stared deep into the clouds, his pupils abruptly contracting.
In the next instant, a bolt of scarlet lightning plunged from the thick cloud cover.
It was an enormous dragon, scarlet from head to tail, its scales like congealed blood gleaming with an eerie luster in the sunlight. Its build was even sleeker than Syrax's. With wings spread, it moved at an astonishing speed, streaking like a red meteor directly over the fleet's masts. The gale raised by its immense wings sent the sails snapping wildly. Sailors on deck grabbed the nearby railings, their faces filled with terror.
The "Blood Wyrm"-Caraxes.
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