Tyrion's POV
The hidden chamber was a place of eerie silence, the only sound a faint rustle from rows of small cribs. Each cradle held a large sleeping infant, watched over by a ring of Unsullied, standing as still as statues, their spears upright, their faces blank. The air was cool, almost too cool for a nursery, and yet, not one of the children seemed to be cold—no cries, no whimpers. Even their breathing was barely audible, as though these children instinctively knew not to disturb their unseen guardians or maybe not to anger their father with their cries.
Footsteps, faint but purposeful, echoed in the narrow stone hallway behind me. I didn't need to turn to know who they belonged to. I recognized the heavy, deliberate gait of my son's giant steps.
He entered the room, towering over me as always, a smile already tugging at his lips. The Unsullied didn't so much as flinch at his arrival, their gaze fixed on the children.
I raised an eyebrow as he approached, my eyes scanning the rows of cribs. "I knew you were... expanding your bloodline," I muttered, "but this..." I gestured to the room, "...this exceeds even my wildest expectations."
He smiled down at me, eyes glinting in the dim light. "Two hundred, Father. My first batch."
"First batch?" I turned to face him fully, my hand resting on my cane. "When I said I always wanted grandchildren, I didn't quite envision this. How in the Seven Hells did you manage this?"
"Women from across Essos," he said simply. "Some willing, some bought. All of them giving me sons and daughters who will shape the future."
I stared at him for a moment, digesting the sheer scope of his ambition. "And what, exactly, do you plan to do with them?"
His grin widened. "Rule, Father. My sons will hold the cities. My daughters will marry into the most powerful merchant families. I will control Essos, one bloodline at a time."
I couldn't help but laugh, though there was no joy in it. "You? Rule all of Essos? Even with your army, you can't hold it all. If the Free Cities unite against you, they'll crush you."
His expression remained calm, unnervingly so. "I'm not worried," he said, voice lowering as though we were speaking of mere trivialities. "Come. I'll show you how."
We left the nursery behind, the Unsullied silently closing the door as we stepped into the narrow passage. He led me through the winding corridors beneath the pyramid until we reached a vast chamber—his vault.
Gold, jewels, and treasures from across Essos and essos glittered in the dim light, stacked in piles higher than I could ever count. Wealth that could rival the Lannisters, perhaps it already even surpasses it. But it wasn't the riches that held my attention.
At the back of the vault, he pulled a torch from the wall. With a click, part of the stone wall shifted, revealing a hidden passage. I shot him a look of surprise, but he said nothing, simply gesturing for me to follow.
We descended deeper underground, the air growing colder, heavier. Eventually, we reached a small, dimly lit chamber. In the center, a stone pedestal held a single, modest chest. My son strode forward and knelt, carefully lifting the lid.
"Father," he said, his voice soft but filled with an unmistakable pride. "This is how I will rule."
I stepped closer, my breath catching as I saw what lay within—three eggs, smooth and round, the color of ash and fire. Dragon eggs.
"Incredible," I whispered, reaching out to touch one. It felt cold, lifeless, like stone. "Are they real?"
He nodded. "They are. And one day, they will hatch."
I glanced up at him. "How?"
He smiled again, that same infuriatingly confident smile. "A forgotten method. The Targaryens lost the knowledge, but I've found it. A life for a life."
"A sacrifice," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Human sacrifice?"
"Yes," he said with a nod, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "Blood in fire. It's the price the gods demand for bringing dragons into the world."
I pulled my hand away from the eggs, my mind reeling. "That's monstrous."
"And yet, necessary," he replied, his voice hardening. "What comes without sacrifice, Father? Dragons are power, and power requires blood. A life for a life."
I stared at him, my heart heavy. "Will they obey you? The dragons, I mean."
"I'm working on it. I've studied the old texts, collected everything I can about Valyria and its magic. I'm even experimenting with... fire resistance."
"Fire resistance?" I couldn't hide the disbelief in my voice. "Do you think you can make yourself immune to fire, like the Targaryens of old?"
"Perhaps." He looked thoughtful for a moment, his gaze distant. "But I suspect there's a key—a secret ingredient, if you will. Something that ties it all together."
I watched him, feeling the weight of history pressing down on both of us. "What is it o?"
I don't know he says only the Targaryens blood has those secrets he says and then stops talking immediately going silent he stayed quite for a minute straight.
Son i say breaking him out of his thoughts my patience leaving me.
He snapped back to the present, eyes bright with sudden realization. "Targaryen blood. That's the key. Their blood is the key to controlling the dragons and maybe even giving me that power."
"Targaryen blood?" I repeated, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach. "You mean to tell me you need a Targaryen thats impossible they are in hiding?"
I look at him and see him smile you have one don't you I say fed up with being out of the loop
He smiled darkly. "Two, actually. But I'll only need one for the ritual."
My breath caught my suspicions proven true. "The children of the mad king even varys hasnt found them."
He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes. They're the last of the line. With one, I will hatch the dragons. The other... I have other plans for."
I shook my head. "If your grandfather knew, he'd have ordered you to kill them the moment you found them."
"He couldn't make me do anything," he said simply. "Not now."
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "And what comes next, then? Where do you go from here now that you have what you need?"
"To King's Landing," he said with a grin. "There's an alchemical order there, one that served the Mad King. They have books, materials. Old Valyrian knowledge. Some of it may have survived the purge. It's a good place to start."
"And if they don't have what you need?"
He chuckled. "Oh, I have a backup plan. But I'll keep that one a surprise."
I looked at him, at the eggs. "You're serious, aren't you? About all of this."
"Deadly serious," he said, his voice cold as the norths ice. "I promised you once, Father, that I'd show you the impossible. And soon, you'll see it with your own eyes. You'll see dragons rise again."
A shiver ran down my spine, but I smiled. "A Lannister always keeps his promises."
"Indeed," he said, his eyes gleaming. "Now, come. We have much to discuss before the real work begins."
As we ascended the stairs, leaving the vault and the dragon eggs behind, I glanced back one last time.
One day, I thought. One day soon.
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