Chapter 169: Dragon Egg

"What? We're regrouping at Blackhaven?"

Samwell had barely settled his troops when a new order arrived.

"Yes, by the king's command, we're to set out for Blackhaven at dawn," the messenger repeated before turning to leave.

"Blackhaven's certainly a smarter choice," Todd Flowers remarked. "This place is turning into an open sewer."

As much as Samwell agreed, he still wanted a chance to search for the dragon eggs.

"Fine, let's get some rest and head out early tomorrow," Samwell instructed, secretly deciding to head to Summerhall's ruins that night.

After a quick dinner, night had fully fallen.

Samwell dismissed his clingy younger brother and made his way alone toward the Summerhall ruins.

The stars were dim, the air thick and stifling, as if rain were imminent. Summerhall, once a grand Targaryen summer palace, had been built by the lake, nestled against hills—a site of spectacular beauty. But after the devastating fire, all that remained were charred, broken walls, and the lake nearby now reeked. Not even animals ventured close.

As he began searching the ruins, he suddenly heard a cough.

"Who's there?"

"Ser Barristan Selmy," an elderly voice replied from the shadows. "And who might you be, m'lord?"

"Samwell Caesar." Samwell hadn't expected to run into the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard but kept his composure as they exchanged words.

Barristan stepped closer, recognizing the young knight who'd won the jousting tournament. Smiling, he said, "Lord Caesar, couldn't sleep either?"

"No, I couldn't." Looking at this senior White Knight, Samwell couldn't resist asking, "Ser Barristan, were you present when the Summerhall tragedy happened?"

"No, I wasn't." Sadness flashed in Barristan's eyes. "I was knighted by King Aegon V himself, but I joined the Kingsguard afterward, when Jaehaerys II succeeded him and bestowed the white cloak upon me. I often think that, had I been here, I might have saved the king who knighted me."

"Do you know what really caused the fire to get out of control?" Samwell asked, testing the waters. "I've heard whispers of many conspiracies."

"Aegon V was indeed surrounded by intrigue. Known as 'The Unlikely King,' he was both too kind and too willful. He married for love and allowed his sons to do the same, angering many of the high lords, which eventually led to resentment and betrayal, all culminating in the fire at Summerhall."

Barristan's words were vague. Samwell couldn't tell if he was concealing royal secrets or if he himself didn't know the details.

"So, you're here tonight to mourn Aegon V?"

"Yes, although perhaps I'm here more to mourn Prince Rhaegar. He was born amidst the flames and loved to come here as a young man. He'd bring his harp and, under the stars and moonlight, play the songs he composed, speaking of dawn, tears, and the fallen kings of the past…"

To Samwell's surprise, this seemingly reserved Kingsguard was quite talkative. Once he started, he didn't seem able to stop.

"Oh, by the way, Lord Caesar," Barristan suddenly recalled something and asked, "I heard you found Lady Ashara Dayne in the Red Mountains?"

"Yes," Samwell replied, recalling that Lady Ashara was the White Knight's unspoken love. "You know Lady Ashara?"

"I do." The old knight seemed almost bashful. "Years ago, at the tournament held by the Riverlands Earl at Harrenhal, I saw her. She was there as Princess Elia Martell's companion. I still remember her violet eyes…"

Samwell grinned mischievously. "Did you ask her for a dance?"

Barristan laughed and shook his head. "I am a sworn knight of the Kingsguard, sworn never to marry, so why invite trouble? But if I could go back, perhaps I would fight with all I had in the joust, win the champion's crown of love and beauty, and offer the wreath to Lady Ashara. Perhaps, that way, later tragedies could have been avoided."

Yes, perhaps if Prince Rhaegar hadn't won that tournament and hadn't crowned Robert's fiancée as the queen of love and beauty, Robert's Rebellion might never have happened.

"You're welcome to visit Starfall anytime," Samwell said. "Lady Ashara lives there now, and she has a lovely daughter named Nathalie."

"I heard she's now the Countess of Starfall, thanks in no small part to your assistance," Barristan replied, glancing at Samwell.

"Oh, I only lent a little help," Samwell said humbly, hoping to glean more secrets from the talkative knight. "By the way, do you know why Lady Ashara tried to take her own life by throwing herself into the sea?"

"She couldn't bear the news that her brother, the Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne, had fallen."

Samwell shrugged. "That's what people say, but I find it hard to believe. No matter how heartbroken she was over her brother's death, would that alone drive her to jump into the sea?"

After a pause, Barristan said, "At Harrenhal, there was a Northern man who sullied her honor. Later, I heard she bore a stillborn daughter. Perhaps it had to do with that."

Samwell had heard this theory before and suspected that the Northern man Barristan referred to was either Eddard Stark or his older brother Brandon. He leaned toward Brandon, since Eddard was far too honorable for such a scandal.

An idea sparked in Samwell's mind. "Ser Barristan, how did you hear that Lady Ashara bore a stillborn daughter?"

"From one of Princess Elia's handmaidens."

So it was merely hearsay.

Samwell's eyes narrowed. What if that child didn't actually die?

If so, Lady Ashara's supposed suicide would make more sense. Her heartbreak would be compounded by the deaths of her lover, her brother, and her daughter's uncertain future.

Lady Ashara might have intended to conceal the child, claiming it had died, while hoping to later find a husband willing to accept her past. That man would have likely been the honorable Eddard Stark, who could grant legitimacy to the child.

But those hopes would have been crushed.

When Brandon Stark was killed by the Mad King, Eddard was obligated to marry Catelyn Tully, making him unable to fulfill that role.

Overwhelmed by despair, Ashara might have staged her suicide to protect her family's honor.

Then another possibility struck Samwell—what if her suicide was a diversion?

What if she'd actually escaped into the Red Mountains with her child?

Had she found refuge among the wildlings?

It was possible; after all, Nathalie bore no visible traits of the wildlings.

Wildlings in the Red Mountains were typically short and dark-skinned, whereas Nathalie was tall, fair-skinned, with Dayne's violet eyes and Stark's dark hair. Moreover, Ashara had taken up the worship of the Old Gods, the faith of the North.

While it could be that she adopted the Old Gods due to her association with the Crow tribe, it was equally plausible that it was in memory of her lost love.

The more Samwell thought about it, the more likely this all seemed.

If true, Nathalie would actually be two or three years older than she claimed.

So the little girl is an adult, he thought, amused. She just doesn't act like it.

"Lord Caesar." Barristan hesitated before finally summoning the courage to speak. "Please, if you would, convey my regards to Lady Ashara. Let her know that a knight still watches over her and asks that she not give up hope."

"Of course. I'll pass on your message."

After thanking Samwell, Barristan turned and walked away into the shadows.

Only after Barristan had vanished did Samwell focus on his original purpose, pushing aside the distracting thoughts and resuming his search.

The ruins were extensive, too large for one man to dig through completely.

Luckily, Samwell had a plan. When he'd explored the hidden tunnels in the Red Keep, he'd noticed his sword, Dawn, reacted in the presence of dragon bones.

Perhaps it will react similarly near dragon eggs, he thought.

With this theory in mind, he drew Dawn from his back, letting the blade's pale glow illuminate the darkness.

He held the greatsword close to the ground, moving slowly across the ruins, watching closely for any changes in its light.

Thunder rumbled overhead, signaling an imminent storm. Rain began to fall, yet Samwell ignored the odor wafting from the nearby lake as he combed every inch of the ruins with focused determination.

Hours passed, the sky growing darker until it seemed ink had blotted out the stars.

He'd searched nearly every corner of the ruins and still found nothing.

Could it be that my theory was wrong? Or maybe the eggs were taken long ago?

It was possible. After all, Aegon V hadn't exactly hidden the fact that he brought dragon eggs with him, and there were survivors from the fire.

But they must have left me at least one, he thought stubbornly, continuing to search.

BOOM—

A clap of thunder jolted him as a faint glow flickered on the sword's blade.

Excitement flared, and he ignored the now-falling rain as he began digging into the rubble at his feet.

Another thunderclap. The storm intensified, pouring rain as Samwell's excitement grew.

With every handful of dirt and rubble he removed, the firelight on Dawn's blade grew brighter.

It's here. There's really a dragon egg!

A crackling web of lightning split the sky, bathing Summerhall's ruins in an eerie glow. Samwell finally reached down and lifted a large, oval-shaped "stone" from the ground, laughing in exhilaration.

The "stone" was pale as snow, its surface covered in sharp, spiraling scales. Holding it, Samwell felt a warmth radiating from within—a deep, ancient warmth, as if a long-dormant life lay hidden inside, waiting to awaken.

This is it, he thought with awe. A dragon egg!

(End of Chapter)

[Way to justify Nathalie, haha]