The red sun slowly dipped toward the western horizon, casting a warm, orange glow that spread across the sky like liquid fire. Its last rays shimmered over the bustling city of King's Landing, painting the Red Fort in golden hues that highlighted its grandeur. Dusk had fallen, but instead of quieting the city, the announcement of a royal event had only stirred greater excitement. King Jaehaerys had declared that he would host a naming day celebration for Prince Valerion, and nobles from across Westeros had hurried to King's Landing at the royal summons, their carriages rattling over cobblestones as dusk deepened. The Red Fort, usually lively, seemed even more vibrant, teeming with servants, guards, and courtiers preparing for the evening's grand spectacle.
Atop Maegor's Holdfast, the tallest tower of the Red Keep, Gaimon found himself immersed in a different sort of activity. The wind brushed gently against his face as he encouraged Vilerion, his younger brother, to take another tentative step.
"Come on, Vilerion! You can do it!" Gaimon called out, smiling broadly at the little boy who staggered uncertainly. Vilerion's tiny legs trembled with each movement, but Gaimon's steady presence gave him confidence. Day after day, this had become a routine—Gaimon believed that children needed open spaces to explore and develop, and the rooftop provided the perfect combination of safety and freedom.
The view from the top of the tower was breathtaking. On one side lay the vast, endless ocean, its waves catching the dying sunlight and glittering like molten gold. On the other side stretched the bustling city, its streets alive with merchants closing their shops and townsfolk returning home. Gaimon loved this view. It reminded him of the endless possibilities in the world and offered a rare moment of tranquility amid the court's ceaseless activity. Whenever he had time, he would bring Vilerion here, letting the boy enjoy the open air and expansive vistas.
As Gaimon adjusted his stance to encourage Vilerion, a servant emerged from the stairs leading up to the platform. The young man moved confidently, accustomed to seeing Gaimon here, and stopped a short distance away.
"Your Highness," the servant said respectfully, "the Queen has sent me to request that you bring the little prince to her. She wishes to change your clothes so that you may attend the banquet tonight."
Gaimon nodded eagerly. "Yes, of course! Go and tell Mother, and we'll be there shortly."
The servant gave a respectful bow and retreated down the stairs, his message delivered. Gaimon turned to Vilerion, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Little one, Mother is looking for us. Come, let's go see her!" he said gently.
"Brother! Brother!" Vilerion's small voice squeaked as he stumbled forward, reaching for Gaimon's hand.
Gaimon crouched slightly and hugged him close, chuckling at his brother's determination. "Haha, well done! Come on, let's walk together." And together, they made their way down the winding staircases toward the Queen's chambers.
When they arrived at Queen Alysanne's room, Gaimon's enthusiasm spilled over in words. "Mother! We're here. Our little prince is doing wonderfully today. He can even walk by himself now!"
Queen Alysanne's eyes lit up with delight, her hands flying to her face in surprise and joy. "Really? The Virgin Mary bless you, come here quickly so I can see him!" She stretched her arms toward Vilerion, who wriggled in Gaimon's grasp, sensing his mother's call.
Gaimon gently placed Vilerion in his mother's arms. "Here, here. Go to your mother, little one."
"Hey! Our brave dragon knight Gaimon, you're still so stingy!" Alysanne teased, smiling warmly at her son. "Not like the generous boy you usually are."
Gaimon shook his head earnestly. "No, Mother, I'm not stingy. I'm just… a child." His words, spoken with mock seriousness, earned a soft laugh from Alysanne, who had grown fond of his precocious manner. In private, she often enjoyed these small moments, teasing him and letting the family's warmth shine.
The arrival of Gaimon had also brought subtle yet profound changes to the Targaryen household. His presence had shifted the dynamics of the family, bringing harmony and warmth that had previously been absent. Where once tensions and misunderstandings lingered, Gaimon's cheerful spirit and perceptive nature acted as a bridge, easing differences and fostering understanding. Vigen and Daniela, too, had begun to experience different paths in their lives, influenced by the gentle but determined changes Gaimon inspired. Even Vaegon, who had gone to the Citadel to study, did so knowing it was for the good of his family, with the promise of eventual return. Gone were the days of isolation and despair.
Daniela, once timid and fearful, had begun to grow braver, emboldened by her interactions with Gaimon. And King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne found joy not only in their children but in the subtle harmonies and bonds that had strengthened between them, aided by the boy who seemed wise beyond his years.
After a moment of familial warmth, Queen Alysanne returned to practical matters. "Gaimon, this is the outfit you designed and asked me to have custom-made. Are you certain you want to wear it to tonight's banquet?"
Gaimon nodded confidently. "I am sure, Mother. Don't you think it looks majestic?"
Alysanne's brow furrowed slightly as she hesitated. "It is beautiful, but… it is quite different from the clothes we usually wear."
"Don't worry. I'll try it on for you first. If it seems unsuitable, I can change into the attire you prepared," Gaimon reassured her, taking the garment into his hands.
The outfit he had designed was elegant yet practical, tailored to fit him perfectly. The upper garment was a deep black tunic with a high stand-up collar, layered over a pristine white shirt. The lower half consisted of slim black trousers that extended gracefully to his ankles. Two golden dragon emblems adorned each side of the collar, exuding an air of quiet majesty. Silver dragon-head clasps ran in neat rows along the chest and ribcage, leading to a flowing silver ribbon that draped from his right shoulder, sparkling in the soft light of the room. Around his waist, a seven-layered calfskin belt, topped with a silver dragon head at its center, cinched the outfit elegantly, giving him a commanding presence despite his small stature. Knee-high black boots extended his legs, lending him an imposing air. A dragon-shaped dagger hung at his side, hinting at the latent power and courage that seemed almost tangible in the room.
As Gaimon stepped forward, the maids could not contain their admiration. "So handsome! Your Highness looks incredible in that outfit!"
Queen Alysanne, initially skeptical, found herself covering her mouth in astonishment. She had not expected such a transformation—the clothes, coupled with Gaimon's natural bearing, rendered him both regal and strikingly heroic.
Gaimon, noticing his mother's reaction, raised his eyebrows with playful pride. "Mother, how does it look? Surely it lives up to the handsomeness you and Father passed on to me."
Alysanne could only shake her head with a soft laugh, marveling at the combination of poise, design, and spirit that Gaimon carried so effortlessly. In that moment, the Red Keep seemed to glow a little brighter, as though the presence of the young prince brought warmth and promise to the entire fortress.
And so, with the city preparing for the grand naming day banquet and the Targaryen family gathered in renewed harmony, Gaimon stood ready. Clad in his custom-made attire, he was not merely a child playing at royalty—he was a symbol of hope, growth, and the bright future of his family.
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