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Game Of Thrones: I Became a Crown Prince For a Day

[ In the prequel to Game of Thrones, titled "Dragon Family," Rhaegar defies the odds by surviving despite being destined to die young. Despite his sickness and loss of birthright, he refuses to surrender, embarking on a quest to explore and conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Along the way, he discovers the secrets of the Black Death's Skull, gaining a 50% increase in fire resistance from the dragon's legacy. He also encounters the auspicious white deer, receiving blessings for a long life. Delving into Blackfire and the Dark Sisters, he acquires the King's Gaze and the Knight's Oath. Rhaegar's journey sees him riding dragons, claiming the Iron Throne, and resisting the manipulations of opportunists. As winter approaches, he remains resolute, ready to face whatever challenges come his way atop his dragon steed. ] (*Important Note* In the original narrative (Lore), the one day heir prince was named Baelon, in honor of Viserys's father. However, the author, disliking the name Baelon, opted for Rhaegar, inspired by the Prince Rhaegar in Game of Thrones.) ("I don’t own this fanfic, it's merely a translation. I didn’t do the translation, but I wanted to read it on Webnovel, so I uploaded it here.")

MohaXx · TV
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694 Chs

Chapter 565: Slippery Dragon – Grey Ghost

Leaving the throne hall, Rhaegar rolled his eyes and returned to his rooms with a shake of his head.

A few moments later, he hid his mouth and coughed lightly as he pushed open the door to his bedroom. In front of him was a softly lit room, with firewood burning in the fireplace on the right side. Rhaenyra sat on a soft cushion, holding a swaddled baby.

When she heard the sound of the door opening, she put on an angry look, clearly not wanting to talk.

"Is Visenya asleep?" Rhaegar asked softly as he moved toward the fireplace.

Rhaenyra turned away, leaving only the back of her head visible.

"Tsk." Rhaegar sighed, feeling helpless.

He noticed an incubator placed next to the fireplace and curiously opened it, revealing a bright green dragon egg. "The kids have taken the dragon eggs out of the Dragonpit again," he remarked. Unhatched dragon eggs were usually housed inside the Dragonpit. This particular egg was Visenya's companion dragon egg, but it was obviously not ready to hatch.

Hearing the container being opened, Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and said coldly, "Rhaegar, if you have nothing important to say, leave my room."

"Maybe there is something," Rhaegar responded with a sardonic smile as he closed the container lid.

"I advise you to keep it brief!" Rhaenyra warned, her expression showing she was ready to kick him out at any moment.

Rhaegar held back a smile, feeling at a loss. The king's rooms had always been inhabited by his father, and this room was formerly Rhaenyra's bedroom. Kicking him out was something she could easily do.

"Ahem." Seeing Rhaenyra's growing impatience, Rhaegar cleared his throat and quickly said, "I'm not belittling Baela; it's just that Dany and Anna are more suitable for Baelon."

Rhaenyra composed herself, gently put the sleeping Visenya down, and fumed, "Since you know Baela is a good girl, you should have chosen her over Jeyne's daughters."

"They are my daughters too," Rhaegar responded calmly.

"So what?" Rhaenyra raged, unable to comprehend. "I don't hate them, but I can't tolerate my son bonding with Jeyne's bloodline!"

Jeyne had betrayed their friendship, and Baelon marrying her daughter would only taint his own bloodline.

Rhaegar sighed softly, feeling a headache coming on. "Mother is also from House Arryn, and the fusion of the two houses would be beneficial, not harmful."

"No!" Rhaenyra was agitated, her volume suddenly rising. "You drew up a marriage contract for my son without my consent!"

Baelon was the oldest son, and she should have had a say in who he married. Rhaegar had not only betrothed Jeyne's daughter to their oldest son but had also shown no respect for her opinion. Especially when she saw Jeyne looking smug, it felt like swallowing a hundred dead flies alive.

Faced with Rhaenyra's sudden outburst, Rhaegar remained silent for a while. Her pretty face was almost in front of his, her eyes filled with anger and a strong sense of grievance. He slightly tilted his head sideways, his mood extraordinarily complicated.

He did not think his judgment was wrong, though perhaps his approach had been slightly inappropriate. He had expected Rhaenyra's complaint; she had never been one to temper her fiery disposition.

"Answer me, Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra's eyes were red, and tears were about to spill over. She couldn't endure this farce any longer.

Rhaegar turned back silently, a hint of apology in his eyes. He suddenly remembered the marriage between his great-grandfather, the Old King, and Queen Alysanne. The Old King was known as the Conciliator, and Alysanne was the Good Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, recognized for her kindness.

The two siblings had risen to prominence, supporting their house and pushing it into prosperity. Yet, despite their strong bond, their marriage had faced two significant breaks due to dissatisfaction over the inheritance of their children and disagreements over their children's marriages. Their union nearly ended when their youngest daughter, Gael, died unexpectedly in 99 AC. Thirteen children had predeceased their parents. Queen Alysanne couldn't cope with the shock and eventually died in 100 AC. The Old King lingered on for three more years, passing away in 103 AC. Their lives were legendary and filled with tragedy, a basket case that ended in regret. Every time he thought about it, Rhaegar's heart sank.

"Rhaegar, do you think I have wronged you?" Rhaenyra, unaware of his thoughts, asked tearfully, her voice full of pathos.

"No, of course not." Rhaegar snapped back to reality and hurriedly denied it.

Rhaenyra wiped away her tears and said sadly, "But you treated me harshly."

"Rhaenyra," Rhaegar's expression grew serious as he took her in his arms. "I have absolutely no such intention. Baela is fine, and I will help her arrange a suitable marriage."

"I don't want your promises," Rhaenyra struggled, her voice strained. "Baela doesn't need them either."

"Baelon is my oldest son; he must bear the burden of peace in the kingdom." Rhaegar spread his hands, hastily explaining, "Jeyne will soon return to the Vale. Dany and Anna are well-behaved. If you think this marriage hurts your pride, let's choose a son for Baela to betroth."

Truth be told, the tantrum-throwing Rhaenyra was harder to manage than a mother dragon hatching eggs. If Baelon's marriage irritated her, he would make up for it with another marriage to establish her confidence as Queen.

"What nonsense are you talking about? What do you take Baela for?" Rhaenyra stopped struggling, exasperated. "Even if we want a marriage, would both parties agree?"

Rhaegar raised an eyebrow and stated, "Baela has the ambition of any boy. A marriage is suitable for Aemon or Maekar."

Kids were Rhaenyra's bottom line. Every kid she raised was her proudest achievement. Rhaenyra sniffled and deflated, "Maekar is only three and usually only attaches himself to Visenya."

"Then change it," Rhaegar resumed his smirk and moved closer. "This marriage is yours to decide, and I fully support you."

"As in the throne room, you support me?" Rhaenyra questioned, plucking at him hard.

"Of course." Rhaegar's gaze gleamed with full affirmation. "I'm relieved that you're in charge."

"Hmph." Rhaenyra's cheeks reddened slightly as she hummed lightly. He knew just how to coax her, not a tyrant when it counts.

...

At the same time, outside the door of the bedroom, two little heads lay one on top of the other.

"What?" Baela whispered incredulously, her eyes moving down to meet Aemon's innocent gaze.

"It's unbelievable!" Baela exclaimed, her indignation clear. She jumped up and stormed off, fuming.

She had intended to check on her adoptive mother's well-being, but she had overheard more than she had bargained for. It seemed like her future was being decided without her input, and she wasn't having it.

"Don't go," Aemon pleaded, worried that they hadn't finished listening.

"Step aside, idiot," Baela snapped, not giving him a second thought as she stormed away.

"Ugh, what's it to me?" Aemon muttered, scratching his head in frustration.

...

Dragonpit

"Run, run, run!" As soon as they rounded the palace, Lyanna darted off like a joyful deer, her short legs sprinting with excitement. Jeyne watched, dumbfounded, letting the little girl scurry about.

Entering the Bronze Gate, the strong smell of dragons hit her nose.

"Lady!" A team of Dragonkeepers stepped forward, led by an elderly Dragonkeeper.

Jeyne nodded gently. "Take the kids around."

"I want dragons, my little dragon!" Lyanna raised her hands high, her excitement palpable. Daenerys' eyes twinkled silently with amusement.

The elderly Dragonkeeper, experienced and respectful, replied, "One moment." Then, turning to the young Dragonkeeper behind him, he commanded in High Valyrian, "The lady wants to see her dragon."

"Yes," the young Dragonkeeper replied seriously, retreating with his bamboo staff in hand.

Suddenly, a sharp dragon roar echoed inside and outside the Dragonpit, filled with a strong sense of resistance. Jeyne froze at the sound and inquired, "That sound is familiar, which dragon is it?"

"Lady, it's Stormcloud!" The elderly Dragonkeeper responded meticulously. "It's been very restless lately and is locked in the Dragonpit."

"That's a shame," Jeyne said regretfully, realizing the young dragon had already made its presence known.

While talking, the young Dragonkeepers returned. One carried a chain with a shackle cuffing a bronze-colored young dragon. The other two carried a hatching container that opened to reveal a blue dragon egg.

"Oh, Vermax!" Lyanna exclaimed, swooping down to pick up her young dragon.

"Roar~" Vermax, lively and active, broke free of its chains and jumped into its master's arms. The young dragon had grown rapidly, now the size of a small sheepdog, standing taller than its owner.

"Ouch!" Lyanna exclaimed as Vermax pounced on her, spreading its blood-colored, spiderwebbed wings.

"Careful, Anna," Jeyne said, holding her forehead helplessly. She then looked at her oldest daughter, who had been silent for a while, and asked softly, "Dany, aren't you going to check on your dragon eggs?"

"Huh?" Daenerys snapped back to her senses. "There's the sound of a dragon's roar, I was entranced by it." She turned around, her eyes as clear as white paper. There was no dragon in sight.

"The dragons are in the Dragon Pit," the elderly Dragonkeeper murmured. Daenerys frowned and walked towards the hatching vessel. The bottom of the vessel was lined with red-hot coals, warming the blue dragon eggs. Daenerys hesitated for a second and reached out her hand to touch it.

"Don't be hasty!" Suddenly, a plain hand held her wrist. Daenerys looked up in surprise and saw a clear, fair face.

Helaena's eyes flickered as she slowly withdrew her hand and cautioned, "The dragon egg is very hot."

A low roar came from the dragon pit as a huge light blue dragon head, followed by a silver dorsal fin, emerged. Dreamfyre's vertical pupils flattened as it slowly climbed out of the pit, finding an open area to rest.

Daenerys watched in awe. "It's beautiful," she marveled.

"It's very old," Helaena said, tilting her head. "It was once regarded as the auspicious birth of the Seven Kingdoms and was known as Dreamfyre."

Before Sunfyre was born, Dreamfyre was the most beautiful dragon. Daenerys nodded, comparing Dreamfyre to the Blue Dragon Egg, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

...

Not far away, Baelon approached the Dragonkeeper alone and quietly requested to view the dragons.

"Roar..." The Dragonkeeper had just retreated when a delighted roar echoed from above. Baelon looked up to see a light gray dragon hovering over the Dragonpit.

"Gray Ghost!" Baelon exclaimed in surprise, a smile spreading across his face.

Gray Ghost, the wild dragon renowned throughout the Seven Kingdoms, was known for its shyness and timidity. It perennially roamed between Dragonstone, King's Landing, and Harrenhal, earning the trust of farmers and fishermen who never feared its presence.

(Word count: 1,795)