The Prince of Whispers Chapter 3: The King's tourney (Patreon)
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The crowd’s excited chatter could be heard while Aegon tightened his armguards.
“Are you sure you’re not partaking in the melee? I assure you the melee will be much more fun than poking each other with sticks on a horse.” said Borros.
“I’m afraid his grace ordered the prince to stay away from the melee.” said Ser Reginald, who helped tighten the straps on Aegon’s chest plate.
“Why would he do that? I told him Aegon would be by my side in the melee, and we’d crush everyone that stood against us.”
Aegon froze upon hearing that and glared at his friend.
“What?” Borros cocked his head, noticing the glare from Aegon.
“You! You outed my plans to partake in the melee to my grandfather. You caused this.” Aegon jabbed an accusing finger at the heir of Storm’s End.
“I don’t get it. King Jaehaerys was quite happy when I said it.” Borros said confusedly.
“He was happy because he gleaned my plans easily from you without much effort.” Aegon deadpanned before shaking his head.
“Oh.” Borros muttered in realisation.
“‘Oh’, he says. You robbed me of the chance to knock a few blows against my prickly brother in the presence of a large enough crowd. Because of you. I’ll have to wait for another chance.” Aegon complained.
“Or maybe Ser Borros will have saved you from a few blows from Prince Daemon by unwittingly exposing your plans.” Ser Reginald coughed.
Aegon threw a dirty look at his sworn shield but otherwise didn’t try to refute the claim. It was entirely possible that Daemon could end up thrashing him in the field, but Aegon was willing to bet he could give a good fight.
“In that case, I’ll make sure to exchange a few blows with Prince Daemon in your name, my friend.” Borros vowed.
“Do be careful. Daemon is an arrogant prick, but he’ll goad you into making mistakes. My brother is a puissant warrior, and he carries Dark Sister.”
“Ser Borros need not fight Prince Daemon. Prince Aegon will have the chance to exchange blows with his brother. Look…” Ser Reginald pointed outside their tent, and sure enough, Aegon saw Daemon riding into the field with his winged helmet while the crowd cheered.
“He looks as stupid as his helmet. It’s as if he has a death wish to die of a broken neck.” Aegon muttered.
“Showmanship is as much a part of a tourney as skill with a lance, my prince.” Ser Reginald said sagely.
“Hmm.” Aegon grunted as he climbed atop his horse.
The trumpets blared again, signalling the crier was about to make another announcement.
“Announcing Prince Aegon Targaryen.”
“That’s my cue.” Aegon muttered as he pulled on the reins of his horse and trotted into the tourney field amidst cheers from the crowd.
He had his horse stand right next to Daemon in the field.
“Look who’s here. I thought you’d be hiding behind the queen’s skirts and watching from the box.” Daemon smirked.
This was why Aegon disliked Daemon most in his dysfunctional family. Even when there was no bad blood between them, he always wanted to punch the smirk right off Daemon’s face whenever he opened his mouth. It also didn’t help that his father liked Daemon the most among his children. Aegon also disliked the fact that his grandfather gave Dark Sister to Daemon.
“I could not let myself let the chance to gain a thousand dragons slip away. A third son has to look after himself.” Aegon said in a composed manner.
Daemon shot him a strange look but otherwise dropped the matter, for which Aegon was thankful. Instead, he focused on the crier, who began calling out the names of eight other knights. His eyes went to the box where the royal family was sitting with a few guests from the great houses of the realm. He found his grandfather and father engaged in a whispered conversation while his grandmother was happily laughing at something Lady Aemma said. Gael had Rhaenyra in her lap, and she was tickling her like there was no tomorrow.
When his eyes fell on Viserys, he found his older brother teeming with excitement while chatting away with Septon Barth.
Viserys was always an easygoing character who disliked conflict in any form. Of all the Targaryen men in the family, he loved Viserys the most. The rest were all dickheads in some way.
But he regretted he was not as close to Viserys as Daemon. The blame for that could be squarely put at his father's feet, Baelon Targaryen, the Spring Prince. It was his father that kept him far away from both his siblings. He was always pawned off to Aunt Maegelle, Queen Alysanne or even Grand Maester Elysar when he should've spent more time with his siblings. The constant flashes of memories of a whole other world were also a hurdle that made Aegon think he was a foreigner in his own family.
His attention went back to the crier who announced the order of the jousts. To his amusement, he was supposed to go against Ser William Royce. He had never heard of the man, nor could he recall the man from Daemon’s wedding.
‘Maybe a distant relative of the main family.’ Aegon mused.
“Don’t lose to that ugly pig from the Vale.” Daemon murmured at Aegon as he passed by.
Aegon was unsurprised that Daemon disliked his wife’s family. If his brother got along with anyone, it was the Blood Wyrm.
He didn’t reply verbally to Daemon and instead went to the stands near the Queen.
“Princess.” Aegon looked expectantly at Gael, offering his left hand.
Gael happily bounced towards him and tied a red ribbon on his wrist. She had insisted beforehand that he ask for her favour and, knowing Gael, she’d make a fuss if he didn’t follow through.
“Win it, Aegon. For me.” Gael said, smiling at him.
Aegon nodded and guided his horse towards one end of the jousting area while everyone made preparations by arranging lances on either side.
“Take a deep breath and release it when you jab with your lance.” Ser Reginald advised him as he gave him his first lance.
“Your opponent is older and, therefore, more experienced but also slow. But you are young and strong. Be quick with your lance. No hesitation.”
Aegon nodded at the knight. He took one last look at the box and saw his grandfather and father were watching him.
Snapping his visor shut, Aegon raised his lance in challenge at the Royce knight. A loud horn blared, signalling the start of the joust.
Aegon harshly tugged at the reins of his horse.
“Hyya!”
His horse galloped forward, picking up speed. Aegon held the lance in a firm grip and controlled his breathing. Just when he neared his opponent on the other track, he took a deep breath. Time slowed down, and he could feel his heart hammer away in his ears.
It was as if he was blessed with some form of magic because he could see where Ser Royce’s lance was aiming. He knew beforehand on instinct where his opponent’s lance was about to make contact.
Aegon lurched to a side and jabbed his lance while releasing the breath he was holding. His lance connected right at the abdomen of the Royce knight. His lance broke clean, and the Royce knight was thrown off the horse. Only when he reached the other side of the jousting area did Aegon realise he had evaded his opponent's lance, and the Royce knight was on the ground.
“Yeah!” Aegon pumped his fist in the air, feeling the thrill of victory.
The thrumming of his heart lessened, and he could now hear the shouting and cheering from the crowd. Looking at the box, he found Gael on her feet, cheering for him. He looked at each face in the box, and only one man was not cheering, and that was his father. Baelon the Brave, they call his father. But Aegon knew him as Baelon, the Coward. This was a man who could not look straight into his eyes, and in that moment, Aegon found all the more reason to win at the tilts.
The following seven jousts were time-consuming compared to his. Daemon unsurprisingly won his joust by breaking eight lances against his opponent, a knight from Fossoway. By the time the eighth match ended, it was noon, and the king announced a break. When the afternoon break ended, it was time for the next batch of knights to fight it out in the arena.
The crowd came alive when the jousting started in earnest in honour of the fiftieth year of King Jaehaerys’ reign. Aegon stood prepared even as he kept a close watch on the second batch of knights duking it out in the tilts.
It took hours for his name to be called out again. This time, his opponent was a young knight from the Crownlands.
“Announcing Prince Aegon Targaryen and Ser Redmine Brune.”
They rode hard and broke lances against each other. Eleven times, they broke lances against each other, but neither was close to being knocked down from their horses. However, Aegon gained the upper hand on their twelfth tilt when his lance delivered a blow that dislocated the knight’s shoulder. With one dislocated shoulder, Ser Brune could not hold his lance properly. The knight accepted defeat instead of trying to joust with a handicap, making Aegon advance in the tilts.
“You look like you’re being boiled inside that armour.” Borros commented as he helped Aegon remove the armour from his body.
“You’ve no idea.” Aegon muttered while privately cursing himself for not knowing the cooling charm.
He had tried to use his magic to keep the temperature in the armour moderate, but it was not working. Sometimes, he could not understand how magic worked. It was as if there were different rules for different situations. Sometimes, his will and imagination were enough for the magic to work. But on rare occasions, knowing a spell and chanting the spell’s name aloud yielded better results.
That was a real blow to his wish to use magic, as he only knew a handful of spells. It was one of the reasons why he was most eagerly looking forward to getting his hands on the knowledge safeguarded in the vaults.
The rest of the jousts in the lists were as lengthy as his own bout. As the tilts continued to the evening, Aegon had more time to rest and freshen up. The one interesting thing that happened was that Ser Desmond Templeton, the Knight of Ninestars, unhorsed Daemon.
“Tell me more about him.” Aegon said, looking at his sworn shield expectantly while jabbing his finger at the victorious knight.
“Never heard of him till now. He’s obviously a talented knight, but that’s no surprise, as he is a knight of the Ninestars. The Templetons have always produced good knights famed for their battle prowess.” said Ser Reginald, eyeing the Templeton knight critically.
Aegon hummed as he turned his sights on his brother, who looked like he wanted to unsheathe Dark Sister and challenge the Knight of Ninestars to a duel. But Daemon walked away from the jousting area with a frustrated yell after a long staring contest with King Jaehaerys.
His sense of enjoyment at Daemon’s failure only lasted till he found the angry red face of his older sibling get into his field of vision.
“You better defeat that prick from the Vale tomorrow.” Daemon scowled.
“You know, brother, I’m not as good as you.” Aegon said sarcastically.
But the dufus never picked up on the sarcastic undertone and merely walked away after letting out a grunt after getting his ego stroked.
‘And to think grandfather thought you are worthy of Dark Sister brother.’ Aegon thought with a snort.
****
“Congratulations, Aegon. You are the youngest knight in the family to make the final tilts.” Viserys beamed as he clapped Aegon’s back.
“It was all because my little niece was so supportive in the stands. Isn’t that true, Rhaenyra?” Aegon cooed, plucking his niece out of Aemma’s hands.
She immediately latched on to his hair and began earnestly tugging at it with a giggle.
“It looks like she thinks you’re a horse brother.” Viserys laughed at his daughter’s antics, who tried to climb into Aegon’s shoulders.
Aegon kept a safe hold on his niece’s body as she managed to climb herself to his shoulders and urged him on by pulling his hair.
“Careful.” Aemma warned.
“She is safe.” Aegon said as he slowly moved around to Rhaenyra’s satisfaction, making her happily giggle.
“You know, his grace talked to me about you being sent to Dragonstone.” Viserys said while watching amusedly as his younger brother acted like a horse to entertain his daughter.
“He did?”
“Yes. He asked me whether I’d like to join you in Dragonstone along with Aemma and Rhaenyra.”
“Did you say yes?” Aegon asked with hopeful eyes. “Having you, Aemma and my sweet niece on the island would be fantastic.”
“It’s more about what his grace wants, Aegon. Now that Lord Corlys has refused to take up his post as Master of Ships for all these years, his grace fears Dragonstone is suffering from maritime trade. He intends to remedy that.” said Viserys.
“Of course.” Aegon sighed, handing Rhaenyra to Aemma. “He is concerned Lord Corlys is amassing wealth in Driftmark at the expense of Dragonstone.”
“That is also true. Will you help me, Aegon?”
“Dragonstone will be your seat one day. I suppose it’ll be better to start familiarising with the island a little early.” Aegon said. “Of course, I’ll be happy to help you and Aemma in whatever capacity I can.”
“Thank you, brother.” Viserys grinned. “Oh, and best of luck for tomorrow. If you win, you’d be the youngest knight to have won a tourney.”
“If I win...” Aegon muttered as he stared after the retreating back of his brother and his family.
He became all the more determined to win the tourney by any means necessary.
****
The arrival of House Velaryon into King’s Landing was with a flair. Princess Rhaenys announced their arrival by circling the city atop her dragon, Meleys. The gleaming scarlet scales of the Red Queen looked mesmerising under the rays of the setting sun. Aegon went straight to the Dragonpit with Gael to welcome the princess into the Red Keep.
Also, he had to see the Meleys with his own eyes as the fierce she-dragon was his late mother’s mount. The fact that Meleys chose Rhaenys to be her next rider greatly helped his opinion about his cousin, and he had only fond memories of Prince Aemon.
“Princess.” Aegon bowed when his cousin climbed down from Meleys’ neck.
On the other hand, Gael ignored such formalities and hugged the princess dearly. While people in the court often whispered that Gael was simple-minded and childish, Aegon only saw Gael’s deep love for people. Gael could be incorrigible on a good day with her bubbliness, but that was part and parcel of Gael’s character. It often had the effect of diffusing the tension in the room.
Aegon smiled as he watched how easily Gael managed to bombard Rhaenys with so many questions about her family. Out of all the Targaryens among the living, Princess Rhaenys was the odd one out, more so than him. While he sported mismatched eyes, Princess Rhaenys had black hair. In some sense, they were the odd ones in the family.
His eyes inevitably fell on Meleys, the dragon of his mother. The Red Queen was a sleek she-dragon but not as benevolent as Silverwing. When he moved close to the dragon, Meleys suddenly looked in his direction with her nostrils flaring and a growl in the back of her throat, making Aegon back away.
“Careful, Aegon.” Rhaenys warned.
“I apologise, cousin. I forgot myself.” Aegon backed away to a safe distance while watching the dragonkeepers patiently guide the Red Queen into the Dragonpit.
“It’s understandable.” Rhaenys said with a nod.
Aegon watched the Red Queen disappear into the darkness of the pit, as did Gael and Rhaenys.
“Meleys has grown. She is now larger than Caraxes.” Gael commented.
“Faster as well.” Rhaenys said proudly.
“Grandmother is most eager to see you and the children. Please come with us, cousin.” said Aegon, inviting Rhaenys into a wheelhouse.
Gael and Rhaenys took the wheelhouse while Aegon rode on a horse along with the escort.
He eyed the two women inside the wheelhouse. They were the favourites of the queen.
The last few years have been cruel to his grandmother, who lost one daughter after another. Under such a time of loss, the presence of Princess Rhaenys and Gael kept his grandmother sane and together with his grandfather. With Aunt Maegaelle's passing, the wedge between the king and queen had only wide-eyed day by day.
When they finally reached the Red Keep, Laenor, Laena, and Lord Corlys had already arrived outside the castle walls. It was his duty to welcome the Velaryon family into the Red Keep and oversee their accommodations. Going by the cold shoulder Lord Corlys was showing to his father and grandfather, the Lord of Driftmark was not ready to forgive or forget the perceived injustice done to his wife.
Therefore, the family dinner his grandfather called was an awkward one filled with tension.
The only ones who were happily chatting away without a care about the tension in the room were Gael and Laena. Laenor was a bit more reserved and read the room even though he was the youngest.
Aegon had often marvelled at Gael’s ability to make people open up to her easily. The harmless vibe and her bubbly personality were undoubtedly an asset that made most people love her.
“Aegon has made many games for us to play since he was a child. They are the most fun. Come. I’ll teach you how to play Marbles and Carroms. Those are my favourites.” Gael said excitedly to Laena and Laenor.
“Aegon made these games? How?” Laena asked, looking at him with wide eyes full of admiration after Gael whispered about the games and how they were played nonstop.
“Well… I had nothing but time. You wouldn’t believe how productive a bored Targaryen can become when he is suitably motivated to engage an excitable Princess.” Aegon said with an easy shrug of his shoulders and an amused smile on his lips while Gael swatted his shoulder.
Even Princess Rhaenys had a ghost of a smile.
“I’ve heard you’ve moved up in the lists. It’s a fine accomplishment for someone so young, overcoming several grown warriors.” said Lord Corlys.
Aegon would’ve felt a sense of gratitude for such kind words from Corlys Velaryon if not for the fact that it was intended as a verbal barb at Daemon.
“I was lucky, that’s all.” Aegon said.
“Not just luck, Prince Aegon. Prince Aemon had often told me you had strong hands. Whenever he took you from your crib, you often had a strong grip on the prince’s fingers. He was sure you’d become a renowned knight in tourneys. It’d seem he was not wrong about you even though he was wrong about many other things.” said Corlys.
There it was again. Another dig at King Jaehaerys for stealing the birthright of Aemon’s daughter. This was why Aegon hated family gatherings like these. It was always the talk of politics and who got what.
‘There was never anything about grief, love, or anything that remotely affected the family.’ Aegon mused with a sigh.
He was not naïve to think politics and power should not be topics of discussion in the royal family. But it was the sole talk in family gatherings and totally unproductive.
“Come on Laena, Laenor. I’ll show you the news games.” Gael suddenly stood up. “Are you coming, Aegon?”
‘Bless her heart.’ Aegon thought.
He followed Gael out of the dining room with Laenor and Laena as fast as his legs could carry. Playing games with Gael and the Velaryon children was far more productive than whatever was about to happen at the dinner table. This he knew for sure.
****
The next day, Aegon was back in the tin can, toiling away as he faced his opponents in the joust.
The celebrations of King Jaehaerys’ fiftieth anniversary on the Iron Throne continued in full swing, with court jesters and bards providing a suitable flare in the court. For his part, Aegon was back to jousting against his opponents.
He didn’t know how he became so lucky because all his opponents fell before him one by one. Either he was extremely lucky or just that good with a lance.
“I think the Warrior has blessed you today, my prince.” said Ser Reginald, giving him the shield as Aegon prepared to face off against his last opponent.
Ironically, Aegon ended up facing Ser Desmond Templeton in the finals to determine the winner of the tourney. The knight of the Ninestars had unhorsed his brother the previous day, and Daemon hated all things that came from the Vale.
“Wish me luck.” Aegon muttered as he snapped the visor shut and strengthened his hold on the lance.
The horn blew loud and clear, making Aegon ride into the arena with his lance aloft. He ignored the screams from the crowd and focused entirely on his opponent. The Templeton Knight was strong and quick. But Aegon had one thing going for him for the whole tourney: luck.
Saying a silent prayer to Lady Luck, he jabbed the lance in his hand with full force. The tip smashed into the shield of Ser Desmond and broke, but the knight remained seated. Only when he reached the other end he realised his opponent had let him go unmolested. The Templeton knight never even attempted to strike Aegon with his lance.
Aegon was more insulted than anything else when that happened. Therefore, when they tilted their lances again, he was set on doing everything he could to unseat Ser Desmond.
Time crawled down to a halt as his heart hammered in his chest. Aegon’s eyes widened in a fraction of a second as he realised he was prepared to kill for victory in a measly tourney over an imaginary offence. With that realisation came a conflict within his mind as the words of the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts confronted him.
“Ambition, cunning, greatness…”
Those three words repeated over and over in his mind as he rode hard and fast against his opponent. When the time came, Harry made his choice. The lance in his hand smashed straight into the neck of Ser Desmond while the knight’s lance was deflected by his shield. The Templeton knight was thrown off his horse on the ground.
It was only when Aegon had crossed over to the other side did he realise what a horrible thing he had done. He turned his horse around and was ready to gallop towards his fallen opponent when Gael’s excitable yell and Daemon’s victorious shout reached his ears. The growing horror in his mind subsided when he saw the two celebrate at the royal pavilion. His eyes fell on Viserys, who was clapping but was not as expressive as Daemon and Gael. His grandfather had a stoney look while his grandmother was looking at him in concern.
“Aegon. Aegon. Aegon.”
The crowd started chanting his name while the servants dragged the unmoving body of Ser Desmond from the tourney ground. Aegon was surprised at his callous discard of his opponent, and it was at that moment, he knew that he was not as different from the rest of his family.
‘I’m sorry, Aunt Maegelle. It seems I’m a dragon through and through.’ Aegon thought as he assumed a bright smile and took the crown of flowers from one of the servants.
His horse trotted towards the royal box and placed the crown of flowers on Gael’s head. The bright smile and blush he received from his childhood friend was far more precious than the life of an unknown knight from the Vale.
‘No…that’s not entirely true. Victory is far more precious than the life of a stranger.’ Aegon thought.
****
“Idealism is truly dead.” Aegon muttered as he snapped his fingers.
Aegon stared into the flames that danced on the palm of his hand. Gold-yellow flames bathed his room in light in the early morning, with the sun slowly peaking from the edges of the horizon. The first light was barely up, and the city was covered in fog. The celebrations had ended with the melee’s end, which had unsurprisingly been a humiliating affair for his friend Borros. The headstrong attitude of the heir of Storm’s End made the guy pick a fight with a couple of knights instead of staying inconspicuous as he advised.
Still, Borros was happy despite the defeat, as he had a good fight on the field. King Jaehaerys had even personally commended Borros for his battle prowess and bold actions in the melee. Aegon could only roll his eyes when Borros preened as if it was the best of compliments instead of seeing the transparent manipulation.
Aegon supposed he was starting to see the world and everything in it with the same eyes as his grandfather to some extent. A few days back in King’s Landing, he had undone the wall he had built around his mind to safeguard himself from becoming a wily dragon like the rest of the family.
‘I suppose it’s better this way. A morally compromised dragon rider would bring only shame to the family.’ Aegon thought.
He didn’t know how long he sat there staring at the flames dancing in the palm of his hand. He had been spending sleepless nights ever since the tourney ended, and today was the day he was supposed to leave for Dragonstone.
But he came back to reality when a knock on the door distracted him. Snuffing out the flames in his palm, Aegon opened the door to find a woman who served in his grandmother’s retinue.
“Her grace requested your presence, my prince. She waits for you near Silverwing’s lair.”
Aegon dismissed the servant before returning to his room, deep in thought. Ever since the tourney, his grandmother had been acting distant towards him, which was a source of discontent inside him. It felt like he won the tourney but lost an important battle. He supposed his grandmother had high hopes that he’d remain different from the rest of the family.
Shaking such dreary thoughts away, Aegon freshened up as fast as he could before leaving his room behind.
The lair of Silverwing and Vermithor were not inside the Dragonpit like the rest of the dragons. The dragons of his grandmother and grandfather were the largest dragons after Vhagar. Both of those dragons were allowed to rest near the Red Keep, with a stone stable built for their stay. Vhagar was also afforded the same courtesy. But Aegon believed the three dragons were kept close to the Red Keep so that House Targaryen would never again suffer the same trouble Aenys’ heir faced during the rebellion. A dragon ride being cut off from their dragons was like a swordsman without a sword.
However, Silverwing and Vermithor were now essentially riderless. His grandmother and grandfather no longer had the health to ride the dragons. Still, both dragons were kept close by the castle, and no one had the guts to challenge Prince Baelor, who had the allegiance of Vhagar. While many extolled the Conciliator for keeping the peace, the truth was that the dragons of his family truly kept the peace in the kingdoms.
As Aegon exited the confines of the castle walls, he saw his grandmother standing before the towering form of Silverwing with dragon-keepers standing close by. The Queen was feeding her Dragon freshly caught fish. Silverwing was the first to notice his arrival as Aegon drew closer to the group. The she-dragon lazily blinked at him with her sparkling blue eyes while munching on the fish the Queen was feeding her.
“Grandmother.”
There was an awkward silence between them that was broken by his grandmother’s sharp command.
“Don’t just stand there. Help me feed this fish to her.”
Aegon sprung into action and began offering the fish stored in a barrel to the mighty dragon of his grandmother. Vhagar and Silverwing were the most battle-oriented she-dragons he knew. However, Silverwing was far more tolerant of strangers, unlike Vhagar, which even the dragonkeepers fear. Silverwing was calm and docile, making her manageable and approachable like he was doing now. If it were Vhagar or Vermithor, he wouldn’t have dared approach them without their riders’ presence.
“When did my grandson think killing to win was decent?”
Aegon paused, feeding the dragon for a moment. He took a long moment to think about what to say before resuming feeding Silverwing. He observed Silverwing’s eyes and saw no change in her lazy attitude. Sometimes, dragons express their rider’s emotions even when they are far away. He had seen it happen with his grandfather and Vermithor.
“It was not decent or honourable. But necessary.” Aegon said finally.
“Necessary? Does a Prince of the realm is in desperate need of gold that he kills his opponents in a joust?”
“I’m a third son. I stand to inherit nothing. I must earn every penny to make something of myself in the future.”
“Is this the same Aegon raised in the light of the Seven by Maegelle and myself?”
That wounded Aegon far deeper than any sword could cut.
“Idealism died with Aunt Maegelle. When his grace gave Dark Sister to Daemon, I knew no one would give anything to me. My father is the heir, which makes Viserys one as well. Daemon is the spare while I…” Aegon took a deep breath as he glared at the fish in his hand.
“I’m the third son of a Prince. I have no worth in the family other than being an object of amusement because of my strange gifts.”
“That is not true, Aegon.”
“Really? Then why did grandfather give Dark Sister to Daemon? Did he do something distinguishable that set him apart from Viserys or myself?” Aegon asked.
The silence that greeted him was enough of an answer.
Aegon was startled when Silverwing rubbed her snout against his hand. He picked a few more fish from the barrel and offered it to the dragon.
“Are your actions justifiable for the sake of you being denied a sword?” Alysanne asked with an infliction in her tone.
“No, grandmother. But I won’t apologise for winning where I can, what I can.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“When you go to Dragonstone, you’ll learn all you need to bond with a dragon. Viserys will guide you to our treasures in the vault. Do be careful, Aegon. The relentless pursuit for little scraps of power will leave you blind to what matters most to you.”
“Strange you never bothered to give this advice to your husband when he took the throne that rightly belonged to your elder sister, Rhaena Targaryen and her children. Nor did you act when he stole it again from Rhaenys for my father.” Aegon said blandly.
He deposited the contents of the barrel on the floor for Silverwing, and the dragon happily gorged on the flapping fish on the ground. Aegon turned his back on his grandmother and her dragon as he walked away and never looked back.
By noon, Aegon had boarded the Seawind for his journey to Dragonstone.
“I’ll not depend on the leftovers my grandfather and grandmother indulgently throw my way. If I depend on them, they’ll use me like they used Maegelle, Viserra, Daella and Aemon.’ Aegon thought as he stared at the harbour from the aft of the ship.
He could see Gael, Laena and Laenor wave at him from the harbour.
“Don’t worry, brother. We’ll see them again soon.” Viserys said, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “If you bond with a dragon, you can see them all at your convenience.”
“In that case, brother. I submit to your sage teachings o’ rider of the great Black Dread.” Aegon gave an exaggerated bow to his elder sibling, making Viserys laugh and Aemma grin at their banter.