Since the two celebrations were destined to fall upon the same day, a collision was inevitable.
Aegon had no intention of giving Viserys any courtesy. He had even less patience for Rhaenyra.
"You intend to move against Rhaenyra that day?" Helaena exclaimed, genuine surprise flickering across her face. "Would that not turn the royal family into a laughingstock?"
To clash openly on a day meant for joy and union would invite ridicule from every corner of the realm. Even the most loyal courtiers would whisper behind their sleeves.
Aegon did not care in the slightest.
"Does the royal family still possess any dignity to lose?" he asked flatly.
He rose from his chair, the parchment forgotten beneath his hand.
"We have been a joke for years."
His voice sharpened.
"Seven hells. Three bastards in succession, born beneath the Red Keep, and she dares to speak of naming the eldest of them heir to the Iron Throne."
Aegon laughed softly, though there was no humor in it.
"She wishes to be queen, yet conducts herself like a common whore."
Three children, all with brown hair, brown eyes, and flat noses. Traits that did not belong to House Targaryen by any honest measure.
The great lords of the Seven Kingdoms noticed. The smallfolk noticed as well. Even the fishmongers and tavern keepers laughed, bold enough now to trade crude jests about silver hair that never came.
Helaena fell silent.
She could not refute him.
After the births of Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey, the royal family had already become a source of mockery throughout the realm. The laughter had not faded with time. It had only grown bolder.
"I truly do not understand her," Helaena said at last, her tone weary rather than bitter. "I do not know what Rhaenyra is thinking."
It was not sympathy that moved her, nor disappointment. Helaena simply could not comprehend it.
Rhaenyra had been named heir by the king himself. She stood upon uncertain ground from the moment the crown was promised to a woman. Any sensible heir would have guarded her reputation fiercely, knowing how easily rivals could use even the smallest flaw against her.
Yet Rhaenyra had taken a lover and borne children for him. Not one mistake, but three. As if daring the realm to challenge her.
Any heir with sense would never have done such a thing.
"I do not know what rattles inside her head," Aegon replied, "but I do know this. Her behavior only makes me shine brighter."
He returned to his seat, his expression calm and assured.
"The more outrageous her conduct, the more the realm turns toward me."
There was an old saying, one Aegon had heard in his past life. It was not about being exceptional yourself. It was about your peers being far worse.
Aegon did not consider himself extraordinary. He knew his flaws better than anyone. Yet Rhaenyra made even mediocrity appear virtuous by comparison.
If not for the dragons gathered beneath her banner, Aegon would scarcely bother to regard her or the Black faction she commanded.
But dragons changed everything.
Dragons were the ultimate force in the world.
Rhaenys rode Meleys, the Red Queen. Swift beyond compare, famed as the fastest dragon Westeros had ever known. Even against Vhagar alone, Meleys would not be without hope of victory.
Daemon rode Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm. A monstrous, blood-red beast with a serpentine body and an appetite for battle. Caraxes had tasted war time and again, and its rider was no less dangerous.
Aegon knew the story well.
In the later days of the Dance of the Dragons, Daemon would challenge Aemond above Harrenhal. The clash above the Gods Eye would decide their fates.
Vhagar and Caraxes would tangle in the air, locked in mortal combat, before plunging into the waters below. Though Vhagar was nearly twice Caraxes's size, Caraxes would not yield. And Daemon, leaping from his saddle in the final moment to strike down Aemond, would seal both their ends.
Daemon's daring had been decisive, but Caraxes's strength could not be denied.
And beyond Meleys and Caraxes, there were still Vermithor and Silverwing, sleeping on Dragonstone.
When King Jaehaerys had been young, Vermithor was already the second largest dragon in Westeros, surpassed only by Balerion and Vhagar. Silverwing, once ridden by Queen Alysanne, was comparable in size to Dreamfyre, though far gentler in temperament.
If events followed the same course, Rhaenyra would eventually call for the Sowing of the Seeds. Bastards with Targaryen blood would be summoned in the hope that one might claim a dragon.
In the original story, Aegon remembered, Hugh would tame Vermithor. Ulf, a drunkard and gambler, would stumble into Silverwing's favor.
Hugh had already bent the knee to Aegon.
As for Ulf, Aegon had learned of him long ago. A worthless man, consumed by drink and dice, driven by greed and nothing else.
At first, Aegon had considered having him killed outright. Then he reconsidered.
Even if Ulf became a dragonrider, he would never be a true threat. Such a man could not be trusted to remain loyal to anyone.
If Aegon removed him prematurely, there was always the risk that Rhaenyra might find a better candidate. A loyal dragonrider would be far more dangerous than a drunken fool.
Better to leave Ulf alive.
A fool could be managed.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound shattered the quiet.
Helaena startled and rose from Aegon's arms as if struck by lightning.
Aegon laughed softly.
"Enter."
The door opened. Arryk stepped inside, followed by Loren.
"Loren?" Aegon raised an eyebrow. "You have returned earlier than expected."
Loren bowed and spoke at once. "Ser Hugh has been exceptionally attentive regarding the Lannister fleet. No ships dare dock at Tyrosh. Messages cannot be sent. Any unfamiliar merchant vessel or warship that approaches is immediately pursued."
He grinned and raised his thumb in approval.
Hugh had been relentless. Whenever time allowed, he struck at Tyrosh from the air. The Tyroshi had learned, painfully, that scorpions were merely siege weapons, not dragon-slaying miracles.
"Are you here to complain?" Aegon teased. "Blaming Aemond for lacking such diligence?"
"Your Highness, I would never," Loren replied hastily. "I merely find Ser Hugh's enthusiasm somewhat excessive."
"Excessive?" Aegon's smile deepened. "The Tyroshi would prefer him lazy."
Hugh had been assigned to escort the Lannister fleet precisely so he could grow accustomed to riding a dragon in extended operations.
He had surpassed expectations.
Not only had he completed the escort, he had effectively blockaded the surrounding sea lanes.
"Where is Hugh now?" Aegon asked. "Has he not returned?"
"He remains at the Dragonpit. He should arrive shortly," Loren replied.
Aegon nodded and turned his attention to Arryk.
"And you? Why are you not overseeing the East District? What brings you to the West?"
Arryk straightened, barely containing his excitement. "Your Highness, excellent news. We have uncovered another dragon skeleton. There are two in total, buried beneath the ground."
Aegon's smile broadened.
"Thank the gods. How large is the second?"
"Comparable to the first," Alec said, frowning. "But it is far less complete. As though something shattered every bone."
He hesitated, troubled by the thought.
What force could destroy the skeleton of a dragon over a hundred meters long?
Seeing his unease, Aegon chuckled.
"Do not trouble yourself. It was likely the sea."
"The sea?" Alec and Loren stared at him in disbelief.
"Yes. Seawater."
Aegon folded his hands and spoke calmly.
"Over twelve thousand years before the Conquest, the First Men crossed from Essos. They came by way of the Arm of Dorne and made war upon the Children of the Forest."
He paused.
"The old songs speak of the greenseers calling upon a great magic. The Hammer of the Waters."
The words carried weight even now.
"The seas rose. The land was torn apart. The Arm of Dorne shattered, and the Stepstones were born."
Arryk blinked. "But that was over twelve thousand years ago. Dragons only appeared a little more than five thousand years past."
Aegon shrugged.
"I do not know. The Hammer of the Waters is merely conjecture. I cannot even say such magic truly existed."
He leaned back, exhaling slowly.
"Do not be so rigid. History rarely offers certainty. We can only speculate boldly."
In truth, Aegon himself did not know.
The records of House Targaryen claimed only that the Valyrians discovered dragons within the Fourteen Flames. They did not create them.
No one knew how long dragons had existed in the world.
And perhaps no one ever would.
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A/N:
Read ahead on Patreon, 22 advance chapters available, with the first 2 free.
patreon.com/Captain_Lag
Also a little announcement-I just released a new fanfic, Dance of the Dragons: Reborn as Aegon the Dragonbane, So do check it out!
that's it I guess, happy reading!!