The Prince of Whispers Chapter 7: The White Flame (Patreon)

Flames were everywhere, in many colours and varying intensities. Men were screaming as the flames danced across their bodies. Nothing but carnage, death, and terror surrounded Aegon as he stood right in the middle of a battlefield. The sky was swirling with storm clouds, and cracks of lightning split the sky open. The ground beneath his feet rumbled as thunder roared from the heavens, showing their fury and unholy power.  

High above, the sky was a canvas for a battle of titans. Dragons, majestic and fearsome, clashed in a spectacle of power. Their claws and teeth tore through the air, their fiery breaths colliding in a clash of red and gold. The dragons' scales, once gleaming, now glowed with the heat of battle, their strength waning under the onslaught of fire.

The men around him were hacking each other to death in a frenzy, even as they were being cooked alive in their armour. Aegon looked far and wide on the battlefield; all he saw was fire and blood.

‘Fire and Blood. The words of Aegon the Conqueror.’ Harry thought.

House Targaryen followed Valyrian tradition until Aegon the First overnight changed thousands of years-old traditions. Like the rest of the Andals and the First Men, his house adopted a heraldry of its own, the three-headed dragon banner and ‘house words’. Aegon and his sisters even abandoned the gods of Valyria for the New Gods.

‘Why am I thinking any of this?’ Harry thought with a frown.

Suddenly, he was yanked out of the battlefield. Aegon blinked and found himself standing atop a large wall of ice overlooking a frozen wasteland.

“The Wall?” Aegon muttered, looking around in confusion, “Am I dreaming?”

His teeth started to chatter as cold seeped into his bones. The sky darkened, with dark clouds blotting out the sun. In the darkness, he saw several crystal-blue eyes staring at him. An inhuman shriek followed, making Aegon fall to his knees. His vision blurred for a moment, and when his eyes focused again, he was before an enormous sculpture of a gold-plated dragon with a throne beneath it. He rubbed the smooth white marble beneath his fingers in awe.

“What is all this?” he whispered confusedly.

His words echoed in the large but vacant hall. Aegon flinched when he heard the stones grinding against each other. He could only gape as he saw the gold-plated dragon move its head and open its jaws. The eyes of the dragon glowed an eerie glow, and he saw a large hill surrounded by a lush forest. He saw thirteen stone pillars reaching into the sky at the top of the hill, covered in vines and hidden in the fog.

“Go to the hill. Find the pillars and build my seat of power. The sacred flame will guide your path.”

Aegon’s eyes widened as he heard the dragon whisper in his mind.

“What the…?”

The world around him spun, pulling him into unending darkness. When the light finally shined on him, he could hear faint noises. Aegon blinked awake as if he was in a bad dream. The first thing he saw was bright silver hair and the smell of rose petals.

“Gael.” Aegon moaned.

“Aegon!”

He heard the faint, excitable yell as someone hugged him. He breathed in the rosy scent and smiled. A pair of warm lips pressed against his own, and he knew he was no longer dreaming.

The most beautiful amethyst eyes greeted him when he opened his eyes. But they were also wet with tears, which made him sad. Gael was one of the few people in the world who deserved happiness. She was among the few dear to his heart.

“I do not like to see you cry.” Aegon whispered hoarsely with a dry throat.

“Oh, Aegon.” Gael hugged him again, crying and laughing.

“Gael, please release your hold on Aegon. Let maester Gerardys take care of him.” Viserys said, gently pulling Gael away from Aegon’s bed.

“My prince.” maester Gerardys placed the back of his hand against Aegon’s forehead.

Aegon watched the maester’s eyebrows climb in surprise.

“It seems the fever has left the prince. He is no longer burning up.” the maester muttered.

For the next few minutes, he was closely prodded and given a lot of fluids to drink. When the maester finally left his bedside, Gael returned to his side with a bowl of soup in her hand.

“We’ll talk, Aegon. I have so many questions about what happened and what you did…” said Viserys, a myriad of emotions shining in his eyes. “But for now, take some rest.”

Aegon watched his elder brother leave before he turned his eyes on Gael.  

“When did you come here?” he asked tentatively.

“Yesterday. When I heard that you had fallen ill after two wild dragons breathed fire on you, I thought the worst.” Gael whispered, offering him a spoonful of soup, which Aegon accepted.

“I was fine.”

“You were burning with fever and unresponsive when I arrived. I thought you were burnt horribly, but the gods protected you from dragon fire.” Gael said, rubbing a stray tear from the corner of his eyes and offering him another spoonful of soup.

“I was fortunate.” Aegon admitted as he, too, had thought he’d be a pile of ash when he distracted the wild dragons to facilitate Viserys’ escape.

“The people of Dragonstone are calling you the White Flame – a dragon in man’s skin.”

Aegon couldn’t help but chuckle at the silly name. He had noticed the penchant of smallfolk to assign silly names to everything around them. Then again, he suspected it was some court bard or fool who coined the name. They tend to make their living by singing praises to lords and knights and gaining the patronage of Westerosi nobility. He tried to remember the names of court jesters or bards in Dragonstone, but those names escaped him for the moment.

He expelled a few of them after learning they were working as spies for Lord Corlys. He had such men shipped off to the Wall while some of the serious offenders were publicly hanged. It was one of those instances where he understood why his grandfather was so paranoid about Lord Corlys and the rise of House Velaryon.

Aegon dutifully finished the soup Gael fed him and made himself comfortable in the bed.

“I’m surprised you were allowed to travel alone without any chaperones.” Aegon said after a while.

The troubled look that took over Gael’s face instantly alerted him.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked curiously.

“I didn’t come to Dragonstone with his grace’s permission.” Gael admitted, averting her eyes while her cheeks became red.

“You…” Aegon gaped at her, “You ran away from the Red Keep on your own?”

“Mother knows.” Gael defended herself hastily, “Father forbade me from visiting you. I…”

Aegon stared incomprehensibly at the hesitation on Gael’s face.

“Gael. What did you do? Why would his grace deny you to visit Dragonstone?” he asked with some trepidation.

“I was worried when I heard of what happened. I…” Gael looked away guiltily from his eyes, “I may have acted rashly and publicly proclaimed our affair before the court.”

Aegon felt a shiver pass through his spine at Gael’s admission.  

“You did what!” he thundered, “We agreed we’ll approach his grace together and ask for his blessings behind a closed door.”

“You were not there. Father proclaimed I was betrothed to some Redwyne knight, and then word came of what happened in Dragonstone. I just…” Gael’s voice broke as she rubbed her eyes, “…I acted without due diligence.”

“I begged my father to let me visit you, but he wouldn’t listen. He wanted to force me into that betrothal, and he wanted me far away from you!” Gael’s shoulders shook as she sobbed, “I couldn’t… I wouldn’t… I had no choice but to escape from the Red Keep.”

Aegon was deeply touched by Gael’s concern. But it was not the smart thing to do.

“Why? Why go to such lengths and openly defy his grace?” Aegon asked softly, “He will be humiliated before the court and the lords of the realm. We could’ve talked to him in the privacy of his solar and slowly changed his mind with grandmother’s support.”

“Because I love you, and I’ll not accept anyone else. No one else will decide who I can love.” Gael said firmly.

Aegon fell silent as his mind worked to think things through before rushing to any hasty action. Gael had pissed off the king of the seven kingdoms and probably his father as well. Both of them were powerful men in their own right. He was nowhere near capable of playing against such men when his influence was derived from their names. The only thing he could claim as his own power was his magic.

Sadly, his magic was not enough to curtail the powers that be in King's Landing to turn the other cheek.

At the same time, he was also aware that his family and his king could not be allowed to look the fool before the realm.

'I'll have to sort out this mess without blemishing the honour of my house and my king.' Aegon thought grimly.

With that decision made, he pushed himself out of the bed despite Gael's objections. He had no time to waste lying in bed while the capital was in chaos. He needed to have a word with the maester and Viserys to discuss his options to avert a major scandal or even retaliation from his grandfather. He remembered the fates of Princess Visera and Saera. He didn’t want that to happen to Gael, nor was he interested in getting exiled for embarrassing the royal family.

*****

Aegon listened to the lull of the sea as the waves made land on Dragonstone. Usually, the sound of the sea calmed his nerves, but today, their effect was nonexistent. He only felt far worse after his talk with Viserys.

“You worry for nothing, brother. Our father is in charge of the Red Keep. He’ll keep those waging tongues under control until our grandsire returns from his progress.” Viserys tried to assuage his fears.

“It’s precisely why I should be worried.” he muttered, staring into the distance from the window of his brother’s solar.

“Aegon. You don’t understand our father as well as…”

“I understand enough brother. I’m not a silly child any longer.” Aegon curtly said, not allowing Viserys to make excuses for their father.

Honestly, he didn’t even blame Prince Baelon at all. He felt responsible for his mother's death, and he had always lived with the guilt of that fact. It was most likely possible that his unique situation might’ve affected his mother's health. He had long ago reconciled with the fact that he was cursed never to enjoy a close bond with his parents.

But he was fortunate to have been born into a loving family that gave him all the love and affection he needed. Queen Alysanne and Septa Maegelle had given him a lifetime of love and care, and he’d be eternally in their debt. Even his grandfather, for all his convoluted schemes and politics, had always treated him with respect and, dare he say it, with pride.

So, Aegon felt like he owed his loyalty to those who had given him a family to belong.

At the same time, he was taught from an early age who he was.

‘I’m a Targaryen – a dragon! A dragon bows to no sheep.’ Aegon thought with steely eyes.

So long as he breathed, he’d not see his king’s head bowed before a lesser lord for his sake.

‘Princess Saera and Visera had disgraced the house and my grandfather. I’ll not let Gael do the same for my sake.’ he thought firmly.

His eyes fell on the pitch-black dragon staring at him from the castle's archery field. The Cannibal had chosen to make its nest on the archery range after he had fallen ill. The curious thing was that the dragon had become docile and remained on the archery field to this day without harming anyone. The Cannibal—known for its appetite for flesh and bones of its own kind—feasted on sheep, oxen, and pigs during its time in the castle.  

“Are you sure Cannibal bonded with me?” Aegon asked, looking at his older brother, who was far more knowledgeable on dragonlore and the secrets of Valyria.

“I am.” Viserys said confidently, “But the only way to know for sure is to claim it.”

Aegon stared at the beast on the ground. The Cannibal was no normal dragon. He supposed the dragon was a perfect fit for him. After all, he was no normal Targaryen either.

“I don’t know how…” Aegon trailed off embarrassedly.

Viserys laughed as he threw his arm around Aegon’s shoulder.

“Do you think the first dragon riders of Valyria knew anything when they tamed their dragons? Do you think Aegon the Conqueror knew anything when he claimed the Black Dread?”

Viserys’ eyes danced with mirth.

“No, brother. We know almost nothing about dragons, and unlike what the books and maesters say, it’s not we who choose the dragon. It’s they who decide to offer the bond—a bond that breaks only on death. So go now and claim what is yours by Fire and Blood.”

Aegon smiled at the words of encouragement from his brother. If there was one thing he liked the most in his elder brother, it was his unabated optimism.

Heeding his brother's words, Aegon stepped into the castle grounds and approached the colossal beast known as the Cannibal.

The Cannibal was the oldest of all wild dragons in Dragonstone. Therefore, he was not surprised to see that it was larger than Sheepstealer. The Cannibal’s bright green eyes followed his every move as he slowly approached the dragon. But the coal-black-scaled dragon continued to eye him without making any aggressive move save for its flickering eyelids.

The dragon keepers stood ready around the Cannibal to intervene should it turn aggressive. But the dragon only lazily blinked when Aegon touched its snout. Seeing that the Cannibal remained calm, Aegon became bolder and started to trace the fine black scales of the wild dragon from its snout to the base of its neck. The dragon’s green eyes followed his movements, but the dragon remained calm.

Aegon stared into the green eyes of the dragon as it turned its massive head to stare at him. He could feel the bond now at the back of his mind. At first, it felt like his heart was thumping loudly in his chest. An unnatural warmth passed through his entire body, and then he knew…

‘I’m a dragonrider.’ Aegon crowed with delight in the confines of his mind.  

His greatest fear was becoming like Vaegon the dragonless, a fear instilled in him by Daemon from early childhood. While he had always shrugged off Daemon's attempts to bully him outwardly, he feared his worst fears would come true.

But now everything changed. He also realised he was no longer an easily dispensable pawn on the board.

‘At least, I hope so.’ Aegon thought with a scowl, knowing anything was now possible with his father in control of the capital.

“Don’t even think about flying without a harness to keep you safe.” Viserys said, breaking Aegon out of his musings.

“You’re right. I’ll need a saddle.” Aegon nodded at his brother, who had followed him into the archery range to watch.

“It’s a good thing I commissioned one for this occasion.” Viserys grinned at Aegon’s surprised look.

Aegon was surprised to see that Viserys was not pulling his leg. The Dragonkeepers brought forth a saddle made of boiled leather and steel chain bindings.

“The first flight is important to seal the bond between a rider and a dragon.” Viserys advised as the Aegon stood near the dragon while the Dragonkeepers worked to fasten the saddle on his dragon, “So, be mindful of your surroundings and thoughts. Dragons have a keen sense of awareness, especially one as wild as…,”

Aegon looked at them in askance as his elder brother trailed off with a thoughtful frown.

“You must name the dragon.” Aemma said amusedly as she arrived at Viserys’ side, hand in hand with Gael.

“Will you accept a name, great dragon?” Aegon whispered in High Valyrian against the coal-black scales of the former wild dragon.

The Cannibal lazily blinked at him with its large green eyes and nudged his side with its snout. Chuckling at his mount's lacklustre attitude, he set his eyes on Gael.

“You suggest a name, Gael.” said Aegon.

Gael was initially surprised by the offer, and a huge smile spread on her face as Aegon offered his hand and helped her come close to pet his dragon.

“How about Maegorion?” Gael suggested with a vindictive look.

“Are you trying to get me exiled, Gael?” Aegon asked incredulously.

If there was anyone his grandfather hated the most, it was Maegor and anyone who even appeared to like Maegor. Naming his newly bonded dragon after the man who usurped the Iron Throne from its rightful rulers would be enough to get him kicked out of Westeros for good.

“Well… it’s not such a bad idea. We could travel the world atop your dragon, and no one could stop us.” Gael said dreamily, making Aegon roll his eyes.

“I’ll find a good name by myself.” he said, patting the scales of the Cannibal, “But first, let’s fly.”

*****

Baelon was pissed. He was beyond pissed at his son, the Kingsguard, the guards in the Red Keep, the City Watch, the maids, the bards, the smallfolk of the Flea Bottom and finally, his mother. Everyone was out to make his life difficult, and all of them were complicit or criminally negligent in undermining him.

Under his watch, he had misplaced a princess, his little sister!

Even before he started interrogating the maids and guards in the Red Keep, he knew Gael had help from the inside. But he didn’t expect the stab of betrayal from this person.

Baelon slammed the doors open and walked into his mother’s room.

“Why?” Baelon asked with barely restrained anger as he glared at his mother.

“I don’t have the power to read your mind, boy,” Alyssane snapped, barely looking up from the book in her hand.

Baelon only felt his ire rise at his mother’s rebellious attitude.

“I’ve spoken to the servants. They say you ordered them to help smuggle Gael aboard a ship to Dragonstone.”

“So what?”

Baelon glared at his mother, who continued to ignore him by making a show of reading her book.

“Do you not understand what you’ve done? You’ve helped Gael and Aegon bring insult to the family. You’ve defied the king…”

“And the king has defied me… his queen!” Alysanne snapped, making Baelon step back, seeing the fire in his mother’s eyes.

“But…”

“Gael is my daughter, and as I said before, I won’t allow her to be bartered off in your father’s schemes.”

Baelon took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I can understand that, mother. But why would you help her travel to Dragonstone? The realm will now question her virtue.”

“Then the solution is simple: Have Gael marry Aegon, and that’ll be the end of it.” Alysanne said.

“Just like you had plans for Gael, I had plans for Aegon, and it didn’t involve him marrying my sister.” Baelon hissed.

“Really?” Alysanne asked sceptically, “You’ve never cared for the boy for all these years. So, forgive me when I say it’s hard to believe you have suddenly taken an interest in Aegon’s life.”

Baelon flinched at the veiled accusation. But he let the accusation slide off.

“I wanted to betroth Aegon to Laena Velaryon. I had hoped to make amends with the Velaryons through their union.” he said through gritted teeth.

“If you want to make amends, return what you’ve stolen from Aemon’s daughter.” Alysanne glared at him, making Baelon flinch again.

Baelon gritted his teeth at his stubborn mother and walked out of her chambers with a scowl.

Why didn’t she understand it was her husband’s choice to name him heir? He had never asked for the position. He’d have even opposed his father’s decision if it wasn’t for the naked ambitions and greed in Corlys Velaryon. The man had been making alliances and fanciful promises to the great houses of the realm as if he were king once Aemon passed away. The pyre that burned Aemon’s body had barely cooled off before Lord Corlys started his campaign to ascertain his dominance.

Such blatant disrespect to his brother and House Targaryen by their vassal had caused his father to act. Corlys’ actions caused the king to strip the heirship from Rhaenys. If Lord Velaryon had to blame someone for his wife’s predicament, it was himself.

He had hoped that his youngest son's marriage to Laena Velaryon would restore amicable relations between House Velaryon and Targaryen. When he met with them recently, he suggested as much to Lord Corlys and Rhaenys.

But all those plans were now in shambles because his father and headstrong son made the situation far worse. He could’ve talked his father out of the betrothal of his son with the Redwyne girl. He had even seen marginal progress as his father hadn’t announced Aegon’s betrothal to the court. But all his attempts were now in vain as Gael’s elopement had caused irreparable insult to two great houses of the realm.

To make matters worse, his son had the audacity to concoct a lie about his health to shift blame.

Baelon wouldn’t let that stand. He was appalled that Viserys also stood in support of Aegon’s ridiculous schemes. His sons needed to be punished, and he’d punish them in person.

To that effect, he charged Ser Redwyne to rule in his stead as he prepared to mount Vhagar and fly to Dragonstone.

‘I’ll bring Gael back to the Red Keep and punish my sons for their involvement in this madness,’ Baelon thought, watching the Dragonkeepers diligently place the saddle around Vhagar.

Vhagar was not happy with waking from her slumber. But his presence quenched any sense of discomfort from the mighty dragon whose flames forged the Seven Kingdoms. Then, something changed all of a sudden. He noticed the change when Vhagar suddenly became aggressive and pinned its golden irises into the sky. The Draagonkeepers were scared away from his dragon as she let out a threatening growl from her throat.

“Peace, Vhagar.” Baelon sang in his ancestors' tongue, rubbing the mighty dragon's dark green scales.

Her aggression momentarily ceased, but Vhagar remained alert and looked to the sky as if there was some great foe that she needed to face.

“My Prince, look!” a startled Dragonkeeper pointed at the sky.

Baelon followed the man’s fingers and found a faint outline of a dragon.

“Could it be Rhaaenys or Daemon?” Baelon muttered, staring at the dragon in the distance.

But as the dragon approached, he noticed it had black scales and was massive compared to Caraxes or Meleys. Great gales of wind blew away dust and sand as the dragon flew past, forcing Baelon to shield his eyes.

He opened his eyes and stared at the rider, who was circling above Baelon. It was none other than his son, and the blasted boy had claimed the cannibalistic dragon! He now understood why Vhagar was unhappy and looked ready to battle the wild dragon.

A premonition suddenly hit Baelon as he stared at his youngest son and the wild dragon.

‘The Cannibal devours its brethren just like my son who came to this world by killing his mother.’ Baelon thought.

The mismatched eyes of his deceased wife came to his mind, the same eyes Aegon possessed. Gritting his teeth, Baelon glared at his son and the wild dragon as he made a decision.

“Remove the saddle and escort Vhagar back into her lair.” he ordered the Dragonkeepers.

‘If my mother thought she could do whatever she wanted with Gael, then I could do the same with my son.’ he thought, pursing his lips as he watched his son circle the Red Keep.

Baelon marched back to the Red Keep, his mind set on what should be done with his wayward son.