In the Disputed Lands, a newly risen gray-white castle stood tall, its banners snapping in the wind—the gray-white sigil of the Grey Wolf Pack, the broken-shackles banner of the Free Company, and now, newly added, a black banner bearing a red dragon.
With the Grey Wolf Pack and the Free Company controlling most of the Disputed Lands and Myr, Gendry had grown more accustomed to living near his original Fire Herb Manor.
After reconstruction and relocation, a brand-new "Wolf's Den" had been built. Spiked trenches ringed the outer perimeter, while within stood solid walls and white towers.
In the gardens of Wolf's Den, Daenerys said to Gendry, "Illyrio claimed these are dragon eggs from the Shadow Lands east of Asshai. Fossilized over countless ages, yet still breathtakingly beautiful!"
"They're priceless, no doubt. But that fat man never gives anything for nothing."
In exchange for releasing Daenerys and her brother, Illyrio had received gold and goods from Myr from Gendry.
Gendry looked at the dragon eggs—or rather, the fossils. A bronze-trimmed cedar chest lay open, lined with the finest velvet and brocade from the Free Cities… and resting atop it were three enormous eggs.
Daenerys stared at them in wonder. They were the most beautiful things she had ever seen. Each egg was different, their colors so rich and intricate she almost thought they were studded with jewels. She needed both arms to hold one.
She lifted an egg carefully. She had expected porcelain, enamel, perhaps glass. Instead, it was far heavier, like solid stone. Tiny scales covered the shell. As her fingers brushed across them, they caught the last light of the setting sun and gleamed with a metallic sheen.
One egg was deep green, flecked with bronze mottling that shifted as she turned it. Another was pale cream streaked with gold. The last was black as a midnight sea, alive with dark red waves and swirling patterns beneath the surface.
Drogon, Viserion, Rhaegal.
Gendry felt it—the turning of Daenerys's fate had begun.
"I'll treasure them forever!" Dany had heard countless tales of dragon eggs, but she had never seen one with her own eyes, never imagined she would.
"May I take a closer look?" Maester Qyburn spoke first. As a wandering maester and Gendry's advisor—something of a mentor—he had every right to examine them.
"These are creations of magic, the foundation of the dragon family. House Targaryen guarded them with the utmost secrecy. Even fossilized dragon eggs are worth a fortune."
Qyburn circled the three eggs several times, studying them intently.
"Deep green and bronze, milk-white and gold, black and red. If a Dragon were to hatch, its colors would likely mirror the egg. The old legends speak true—a Dragon often bears several hues, and its egg reflects them."
Gendry understood some of this. After all, he carried a trace of Dragonblood himself.
"But in this age, there should be no living dragon eggs left," Qyburn said with regret.
"Living dragon eggs?" Daenerys asked, startled.
"Yes, Princess. If these were living dragon eggs, even the Magister of Myr would never have given them away—not for a city. House Targaryen kept their dragon eggs under the strictest guard, stored in vaults and cellars. Over time, some eventually turned to stone."
"Even as fossils, Illyrio has been generous enough," Gendry said, his eyes lingering on the three stone eggs. With these in hand, he would make Illyrio—and Varys—weep one day.
Illyrio had offered them knowing full well that once fossilized, dragon eggs could not be reversed.
But he had miscalculated two things.
First, magic was slowly returning to the world. The Others had appeared. The tide of magic would only rise.
Second, even fossilized dragon eggs, when awakened by the right blood magic, still held a chance to hatch Dragons once more.
"Can my dragon eggs hatch into dragons?" Daenerys asked.
"I'm afraid not, Princess," Qyburn replied with certainty. "In ages past, even fresh, living dragon eggs sometimes failed to hatch. Fossilized eggs stand even less chance. Once a dragon egg turns to stone, it cannot be reversed."
"All right…" Daenerys said, unable to hide her disappointment.
"That's enough, Dany. Keep them safe. You've lessons to attend," Gendry said.
"Gendry! Then you have to come see me!" she said eagerly. She clung to him as though they could never be separated. People were drawn to strength by nature, and even more so when it came wrapped in gentleness and confidence.
Gendry nodded.
The guards escorted Daenerys away with the dragon eggs, leaving only Qyburn and Gendry in the garden.
Gendry no longer needed to conceal his identity or his face. Illyrio had already exposed everything. The scandal of his birth was now common knowledge.
"Illyrio handed over three fossilized dragon eggs so generously. That makes me think he may have more."
"Most likely he does," Qyburn said slowly. "There are rumors he once smuggled dragonbones. He wouldn't lack the necessary connections."
"And the dragon eggs left behind by House Targaryen? It feels as though they've all disappeared."
"That is a mystery with no clear answer," Qyburn replied. "The Dragonlords left behind quite a number of dragon eggs. Even after the dragons went extinct, experiments were conducted on those remaining eggs. At Summerhall alone, seven dragon eggs were used in a single attempt."
"But after the Usurper's victory, there's been no word of the new dynasty uncovering any of those eggs."
If only we could find better dragon eggs. Living ones, Gendry thought. With those, there would be no need to rely on profound blood magic. It would be far less troublesome.
Dragonstone, the Red Keep, Summerhall… wherever they are, I will find them. Those dragon eggs should belong to me and Daenerys—and to my children.
"Prince, the princess is easy enough to manage," Qyburn said. "She's deeply attached to you and quite obedient. With proper training in etiquette and learning, she will one day bring glory to Westeros. It's Viserys who remains a concern. He's older, ahead in the line of succession, and mentally unstable."
"Is Viserys still spending his days in brothels?" Gendry asked.
"Yes. The two Unsullied Illyrio sent are guarding him," Qyburn said with a nod. "He believes you broke your promise. He also resents our soldiers looking at him as though he's a fool. More importantly, your heritage has only deepened his fear and unease."
"Let him do as he pleases. As long as he doesn't trouble me or Daenerys," Gendry said dismissively. If Viserys continued indulging himself like this, he would meet his end sooner or later. There would be no need for Gendry to intervene.
"It was Illyrio who spread the word that I'm a bastard," Gendry said to Qyburn.
"It must have been him. Aside from Illyrio, who else? He also has an informant in King's Landing," Qyburn analyzed.
"There is such an informant. And he's extremely capable."
"Illyrio is no true friend of ours. He may well be an enemy," Gendry said coldly. "He and the Spider are using Daenerys and the others as bait. Their real investment lies elsewhere."
"Merchants are all alike," Qyburn agreed.
"Illyrio's schemes can wait. Our priority is dealing with the Tyroshi, the Lyseni, the Volantenes, and our enemies across the Narrow Sea."
"Tyrosh has their Black Walls and sits among the island chain. Once we impose a blockade, taking it won't be overly difficult," Qyburn said after a moment's thought. "The real challenge lies in consolidating our rule and preventing unrest from those exiled Magisters. That will require considerable manpower."