Two days later. Early morning.
A sharp, rasping roar split the dawn air.
At the high desk by the window, Prince Aegon Targaryen paused mid-stroke. The quill hovered above the parchment as he listened, head slightly tilted.
"That is Sheepstealer," he said calmly. "Hugh has returned."
Across the chamber, Queen Alicent was seated near the brazier, peeling an apple with careful, practiced movements. At his words, her fingers stilled. The thin knife rested against the fruit as her brows drew together.
"Aegon," she said after a moment, her voice low, "Hugh appears loyal, but a man's heart is not so easily measured. What if he turns against you?"
Since the day she learned that Hugh had bound a wild dragon to his will, that unease had never truly left her.
Aegon set the quill aside and leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. "You have raised this fear many times, Mother. And each time, I give you the same answer."
He rose and moved closer, resting one hand on the edge of the table.
"Hugh has no reason to betray me. I promised to restore his Targaryen name, and I promised that his daughter will wed my second son."
Alicent shook her head slightly, unconvinced. "Men do not always betray for gain. What if he seeks a crown of his own? Or defects to Princess Rhaenyra and the Blacks?"
"If he named himself king," Aegon replied, his tone sharpening, "every branch of House Targaryen would move to destroy him. He knows this."
He walked to the window, gazing out toward the Dragonpit.
"As for the Blacks," he continued, "they have nothing to offer him. Hugh's blood is purer than that of Rhaenyra's dark-haired sons. Their cause is weaker than mine. What reward could they give that would tempt him?"
He turned back, his expression firm.
"And more than that, Hugh loves his wife. He loves his son and his daughter. A man like that does not gamble everything on folly."
Alicent studied his face for a long moment, then gave a slow nod.
"Very well," she said. "But there is one thing you must never allow. Hugh's son must not be permitted to claim a dragon. I do not speak of the sickly child. Hugh himself is still young. So is his wife."
Aegon lifted a hand in reassurance. "I will not allow a second House Velaryon to rise beneath my roof."
Only then did Alicent relax, returning to her apple.
"Good. Once his name is restored, how do you intend to settle him?" she asked. "That is no small matter."
Granting Hugh the title of prince, like Aemond or Daeron, was unthinkable to her.
Aegon considered this as he paced. "I am thinking of founding a Dragonknight Order," he said at last. "An institution to oversee dragonriders directly under the Crown."
Alicent looked up sharply. "A Dragonknight Order?"
"For now, it is only an idea," Aegon admitted, spreading his hands. "My sons and my daughter cannot all be treated the same. Blood alone is not enough. How to place the royal line properly is the true difficulty."
He allowed himself a faint smile. "Compared to that, Hugh is simple."
Alicent rose. "Then let us speak of it no more for now. Walk with me. We can meet him on the way."
They left the chamber together, their footsteps echoing through the stone corridors.
Outside, the clouds were breaking apart. Sunlight spilled across the Dragonpit as Sheepstealer descended, wings folding with a hiss of heat and dust.
Hugh Hammer stood beside the great beast, one hand pressed to its scarred hide. After a final pat, he turned and made for the road toward the harbor. He did not get far before he saw them approaching.
He halted at once and dropped to one knee.
"Your Highness the Prince. Your Highness the Queen."
Alicent inclined her head. "Rise."
Hugh stood, posture straight but respectful.
She regarded him thoughtfully. "What should I call you now, I wonder. Lord Councillor? Lord Hugh? Or Ser Hugh?"
"Whichever pleases Your Highness," Hugh replied without hesitation. "Any name you grant me is an honor."
She considered this, then nodded. "Ser Hugh, then. That is the name that still feels right."
Hugh placed a fist over his heart. "It honors me, Your Highness."
Aegon stepped forward. "Did you seize anything of value at the Tyroshi landing sites?"
Hugh's shoulders sagged slightly. He let out a long breath.
"No gold. No silver. No jewels," he said. "Only garlic, chilies, honey, wine, sausages, and more of the same."
Aegon blinked. For a moment, he had no reply.
Among the Free Cities, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh shared similar tastes. Honey-roasted sausages thick with garlic and chilies were their pride. Their holds were filled with red wines, clear spirits, pale green Myrish mead, smokeberry ale, firewine, and pear brandy.
"This…" Aegon murmured.
Hugh lowered his gaze. "Forgive me, Your Highness. We could not press deeper into the Disputed Lands. The men and supplies would not last. The farther we went, the more slave estates there were, and they know the terrain well."
He clenched his jaw. "I could not remain airborne forever. One poisoned arrow while resting, and it would have ended there."
"It matters little," Aegon said with a laugh, waving it away. "Let the smallfolk taste the Triarchy's delicacies for once."
Most of his subjects had once been slaves. To them, garlic sausages and strong wine were luxuries beyond imagining.
Alicent gave Aegon a sideways glance. "You are generous."
"That is because you have not read The True Dragon Code," Aegon replied lightly. "If you had, you might call me a tyrant."
Hugh straightened at once. "Your Highness," he said earnestly, "the code you wrote is the most just law I have ever read. Cruel? No. Never."
He spoke with conviction. Hugh had read them all. The True Dragon Code. The Three-Year Plan and Five-Year Expansion. On the Transition from Smallfolk to Soldier. Farming and Roads in Times of War.
Aegon laughed and clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Careful. Praise like that will swell my head."
"It is not praise," Hugh insisted. "It is truth."
"Well then," Aegon said, his eyes bright, "tonight we shall hold a feast to mark your return."
Hugh looked startled. "Your Highness, I have done little to deserve such honor. And we are short on supplies. Extravagance would be ill-timed."
"Who says you have no merit?" Aegon replied, his voice dropping, his smile turning sharp. "Your merit is great."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice further.
"You will need more victories and more renown before your name is restored. Strength invites acceptance."
His gaze hardened. "Much has changed while I was in King's Landing. I will explain everything soon."
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A/N:
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