The Stolen Egg

The heavy air of Dragonstone seemed thicker than usual. The stone walls of the castle looked imposing as Otto Hightower and his soldiers arrived at the base of the mountain, their footsteps echoing against the cold, volcanic rock. The Hand of the King had come to confront his younger brother, Daemon Targaryen. Annatar stood in the shadows, watching, his mind racing as he felt the weight of the moment. Daemon had taught him much, but this—this was a confrontation that would change everything.

Daemon stood in the distance, watching the scene unfold with a calm and almost taunting expression. His confidence was as ever—unshaken, even in the face of Otto and his armed guard.

Otto, leading his men, walked forward and called to Daemon. "Daemon," he began, his voice firm, "Return the egg. It is not yours to take."

Daemon's lips twitched into a smirk. "It was a gift," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "For my son."

Otto's face hardened. "Return it. Now."

Annatar's heart beat faster. The tension between the two men was palpable. This wasn't just about an egg—it was about power, control, and something more dangerous than either man cared to admit.

Daemon turned and walked casually toward his brother. "I will not return it," he declared, voice deepening with resolve. "You may tell your King that I will keep the egg."

Otto took a step closer, his tone darkening. "The King did not send you here, did he? You're nothing more than a second son with a dragon."

Daemon gave a dark chuckle, enjoying the discomfort Otto was trying so hard to conceal. "Do you really think he would risk the wrath of my dragons?"

Otto's nostrils flared. "You will not have your way."

As the tension thickened, Annatar could feel it. He had learned much from Daemon, yet he couldn't help but think this would escalate quickly. Otto's men were visibly uncomfortable as Daemon turned, and the dragon's roar echoed through the skies—Caraxes, Daemon's massive red dragon, was descending.

The soldiers shifted nervously. Otto himself remained still but his expression betrayed the fear he was doing his best to hide.

Daemon turned to face Otto once more. "You may tell your King that I will not be taking orders from him or from you."

Annatar could see that this wasn't just defiance. Daemon was playing a dangerous game, one that might very well lead to war. But the older Targaryen didn't seem concerned. He was testing the limits, pushing against everything and everyone in his way.

As Otto stood in silent fury, another voice broke through the tension. It was Rhaenyra, entering the scene with all the quiet authority of someone who was used to being obeyed. She wasn't in her full regalia, but she stood tall, as if ready to face whatever challenge this moment presented.

"Daemon," she called, her voice clear and commanding.

Daemon turned to face her, his smirk never wavering. "What is it, Rhaenyra?" he asked, as though dismissing her presence entirely. "Are you here to lecture me, too?"

Rhaenyra didn't flinch. She looked at Daemon without fear. "Return the egg."

Daemon's face darkened slightly. "What do you want from me?" His voice, while quiet, was full of bitterness. "Another lecture from the King's Hand?"

She stood her ground. "I want you to stop being a fool. Give the egg back."

Daemon took a long, deliberate pause before responding, looking away and then back at Rhaenyra with contempt. "You are no more than your father's daughter."

Rhaenyra didn't flinch at the insult. She knew the games Daemon played, but this one wouldn't work on her. She wasn't backing down. "The egg belongs with the royal family, Daemon. Not with you."

Daemon's lips curled up, his smirk turning into something more dangerous. But before he could retort, he was interrupted by the unmistakable roar of a dragon. The sound filled the air, and Caraxes, Daemon's dragon, soared from the skies, his massive wings flapping as he landed.

The soldiers stepped back, instinctively fearful of the creature's raw power.

Daemon's gaze turned to Otto. "Do you see now, Hand of the King? This is my power. This is my strength." He slowly turned away from Otto and Rhaenyra, walking back to the great red dragon that had just landed. "This is mine to command."

The soldiers were visibly shaken by Caraxes' appearance, the size and majesty of the dragon imposing, the air heavy with an unspoken threat. Even Otto seemed taken aback.

Rhaenyra moved forward, stepping up to Daemon, still keeping her composure. "Daemon, you're making a mistake. The egg goes back. Now."

Daemon smirked but did not answer her immediately. There was an unsettling calm in his eyes. Finally, he gave a low chuckle, but his words were slow and deliberate. "Very well," he said, voice still full of defiance. "Take it."

Rhaenyra stepped forward and gently took the dragon egg from its resting place. She cradled it in her arms with a sense of finality, showing no hesitation as she turned back toward the ship, ready to leave.

The soldiers followed, still under the watchful eye of Caraxes, but there was no more resistance. Otto, silent now, moved after Rhaenyra.

Annatar's Quiet Reflection

As the others left, Annatar remained behind, his thoughts a swirling storm. Daemon, unbothered by the failure, watched as his nephew and Otto retreated.

"You did well, Annatar," Daemon said quietly, his voice filled with an almost unnerving calm. "You did well to keep your distance."

Annatar glanced at him, the weight of the moment settling on him. "What do you think will happen now, Daemon?"

Daemon's eyes gleamed with something far darker. "Nothing good, Annatar," he said. "But it's only the beginning."

Annatar nodded slowly, aware that Daemon had made a dangerous choice today. He wasn't sure what the outcome would be, but he knew Daemon wouldn't stop here. The game they were playing was one where no one was safe.