The Old King and The Precocious Prince

101 AC

Jaehaerys Targaryen, the First of his Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, was exhausted.

His trip to Harrenhall had taken its toll, and the countless Lords and Ladies that tried to curry his favor had given him a headache. He expected Viserys and Rhaenys to be among the contenders for the Iron Throne, but he hadn't expected twelve others to try such a blatant attempt to steal the Iron Throne from the House of the Dragon. One of those imbeciles had dared pretend he was his bastard, Jaehaerys had imprisoned him and would have his tongue taken in the morning. He had never had another woman than his Alysanne and he would be damned if anyone said otherwise. Another one of the pretenders had struck his heart the second he saw him, he had been the spiting image of his younger self, and had pretended to be one of Saera's bastards. The Old King could not deny his claims, his daughter had found a way to repay him tenfold for their quarrels. She had hurt him more than Maegor ever did.

Sitting on his balcony, Jaehaerys looked at the forest of tents that circled the castle of Harren the Black. All the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms had come to vote for their next King, though, that was the official reason, the real reason was the pissing contest that they were all having in this sea of linen.

Jaehaerys released a deep sigh, if he was honest with himself, he was impatient to die. He had lived too long, ruled for too long, lost too much. There was nothing in the World that kept him alive other than his duty.

His children were either dead or far away, like Vaegon and Saera. His grandchildren… he was never really close to them. He had sacrificed most of his life to do his duty as a King, but he knew by now that if he was the greatest King who ever was, he had been a terrible father, and an even worse grandfather. Today, his grandchildren had all grown without any supervision from him, Rhaenys and Daemon were too independent to listen to him, and he was too busy teaching Viserys how to be king to spare any time to build any loving relationship between them. He was never good at that anyway. Alysanne had always been the one to spoil and love all of their offsprings, so much so that he had never seen the need to do much in their regard, and had focused on ruling. Today's Council was proof that it had ended up being his greatest failure as a ruler. Indeed, he hadn't prepared the next generation to continue his work after his death. Jaehaerys blamed himself for this failure, he had been so selfish and self-centered… Why did he have to try and do everything himself during his rule? Had he kept some projects of his for his heir, then perhaps he would have found the time to be a patriarch instead of just being a King… Now, his grandchildren were fighting for his Crown, but none were truly prepared to succeed him. He knew Alysanne would berate him for that once they were reunited, if only he could be given one last chance at being a parent, one last chance to right his greatest wrong.

His great-grandchildren were all so young, none of them had the patience yet to listen to a dying old man.

Laena was a headstrong girl and because of her mother's anger towards him since he had chosen Baelon as heir in 92 AC, they had never been close, for she was as resentful as Rhaenys. It had been easier to approach Laenor, for Lord Corlys Velaryon had tried to prove to him that his son was the best choice of an heir despite his young age. Yet, Laenor was not as bright as the Sea Snake had pretended; he was a shy little boy who was easily intimidated by the Old King's reputation. The two had never really been close, Laenor would rather spend his time with boys his age than with an Old Man who scared him. Rhaenyra, Baelon's granddaughter, was a cute little thing, but more interested in her young dragon Syrax than in any of Jaehaerys' story or lesson, and Jaehaeron…

Jaehaerys stopped himself, Jaehaeron… He had never truly spoken to Daemon's son. Most of the time because his damn memory betrayed him. But today would not be one of his bad days, he remembered the strong willed Lyanna Stark, who had become Alysanne's favorite lady at court, and who had reminded them both of their daughter Alyssa. He remembered Daemon's behavior when he was married, never before had he seen his rogue grandson so happy and so self-conscious. He remembered Grand Maester Allar's praise for Jon's intelligence. Perhaps…

Jaehaerys knew he had to try, despite his old bones and his great-grandson's young age, Alysanne would never forgive him if he didn't try to form a bond with the one legitimate descendant he knew nothing about. He had time to kill anyway, the lords were too busy trying to bribe and brag to seek his presence until the beginning of the Council.

Despite his fatigue, he rose from the chair of his balcony and went to open his door.

"Bring Prince Jaehaeron to me, I wish to speak with him." He commanded Ser Ryan Redwyne.

The Kingsguard bowed dutifully and instructed Ser Robin Shaw to find the young Prince. Jaehaerys went back inside his chambers and waited by his bed, thinking about the best way to speak to his younger great grandson. Unfortunately, he didn't not find a satisfying subject to start their conversation, and felt great frustration shake his old bones.

Jaehaeron had appeared a dozen of minutes later, with a book under his arm and a frown on his face. He bowed respectfully.

"Your Grace, you asked for me?"

Jaehaerys was impressed to see a boy so young with such good manners, Laenor had stuttered every time he went to speak with him.

"Yes Jaehaeron, I did, and you don't have to call me 'Your Grace' when we are alone. 'Grand-father' will do."

The four year old nodded, and went to sit next to the old man on the bed, after the latter had invited him with a gesture.

"What is it that you're reading?" Jaehaerys asked.

Jon put his book on his lapse, allowing the Old King to read the title himself; 'The Jade Compendium'

Jaehaerys rose his white eyebrows.

"Where did you find this book?"

"At the Red Keep's library."

"Did you stumble upon it by chance, or were you looking for it specifically?"

Jon's frown told his great-grandfather that he was getting suspicious of the Old King behavior, the seriousness of his tone had more than likely not been expected.

"A… bit of both." He lied without Jaehaerys noticing. "I was looking for tales of the Long Night, and I found this book."

The Old King's eyes widened, a severe glint appeared in his purple eyes.

"Jaehaeron… Why were you looking for tales about the Long Night?"

That was a question he did not answer, for he had not expected his King to react the way he did. He thought Jaehaerys would simply believe that he was looking for scary stories about Northern folklore. He hadn't imagined he would take this matter half as seriously as he was now.

"Jaehaeron, be honest with me;" The Old King commanded. "Do you have dreams you can't explain that look more real than reality itself?"

Jon's eyes widened in turn, not because his great-grandfather had figured out his darkest secret, but because he had just provided him with the perfect excuse to explain his precociousness and some of his knowledge.

"How…? How do you know?"

Jaehaerys took a deep breath to release a deep sigh. He didn't want to scare his great-grandson, but he needed to be sure about what the latter saw, of what he was capable of… of the reality of the greatest threat that the House of the Dragon would ever face.

"You are not the first dreamer of our house, Jaehaeron. Daenys the Dreamer foresaw the end of Old Valyria two hundred years ago, and convinced her father Aenar to abandon our homeland before the Doom. I need you to tell me exactly what you see in your dreams, please Jaehaeron… it is very important."

Jon looked down on his knees, unsure about the best course of action, his tiny body was shaking in stress, his brain was flowed with memories of cold sapphire eyes.

"I saw the Night King of the White Walkers." He whispered loud enough for Jaehaerys to hear him. "He had a body made of ice, just like his crown. I saw him massacre all the wildlings, then, I saw him raise their bodies with dark magic, he turned their corpses into puppets… his soldiers… his army of the dead."

Jaehaerys felt a shiver run down his spine, he felt his old heart beat faster than it had in years, his hands had clutched his clothes and had turned white.

Jon looked into his great grandfather's eyes, he saw fear. Genuine and pure fear. The Old King released part of his tension by sighing heavily, and put a hand on his forehead.

"What else did you see?"

"Dragon bones." Jon whispered with gritted teeth. "Dragon bones everywhere. A flayed man ruling over Winter, and a false stag sitting on the Iron Throne."

Jaehaerys rose his head, now more angry than terrified. He gritted his teeth in turn, and let out a frustrated sigh.

"This is a warning." He concluded with a grave tone. "We have been lax, selfish and stupid… the House of the Dragon will crumble if we can't put aside our quarrels and desires to stand united…"

He sighed once more, he was too old and tired to properly contain the violence of his emotions.

Yet, he had to stay strong, for he now knew what to do.

"Come with me, Jaehaeron, I have something to show you, and something to tell you. You can leave your book here."

Jon merely nodded, abandoned his book on the bed, and followed his great grandfather who exited his room to go down the fractured stairs of Harrenhal. They were followed dutifully by two Kingsguards.

Jaehaerys felt his muscles ache the more he walked, but he would not stop, not this time. His great grandson had warned him of the dire future of House Targaryen, there might not be a lot for him to do, but he would share what he had left to his bloodline for them to continue his work. This was what he had failed to do during his rule, Jaehaeron was his one chance at redemption and Jaehaerys would seize it. Even if it was the last thing he would do.

Vermithor had followed him to Harrenhal, despite the fact that the Old King had not ridden him in years, the Dragon had remained loyal to his rider. He was devouring the third cow that had been supplied by House Strong for his lunch, when Jaehaerys approached him with his great grandson by his side. The Kingsguards knew better than to follow their liege too close, they'd remain close enough to watch them, but far enough to not hear them.

Vermithor rose its massive bronze head from its meal and welcomed his rider with a roar that shook the ground so much that Jon lost his footing and fell on one knee. Jaehaerys turned to give him an encouraging smile.

"Do not be afraid of him, my boy." The Old King said in a reassuring tone. "He will not hurt you while I am here. Make sure to never visit him alone though."

"I won't." Jon promised as he stood up, his deep purple eyes lost themselves into the Bronze Fury's gigantic reptile's iris. He felt as if Vermithor was judging him, testing his courage and value. Jon armed himself with all the courage he could muster, and followed his great grandfather who was looking at him with pride.

"Hello old friend." Jaehaerys greeted as he rubbed the large dragon's lower jaw. "I am sorry for the loneliness I have abandoned you to."

Vermithor grunted, as if to reassure his rider, but his large bronze eyes never left Jon who was hypnotized by the creature's presence.

"Give me your hand, Jaehaeron." The Old King murmured, before he placed the boy's tiny palm on the dragon's snout.

Jon was amazed, no, he was in awe before Vermithor. The beast skin was warm, and its aura was as friendly as its strength was palpable. He had never felt such a thing, not even when his father had introduced him to Caraxes. Where Caraxes had acknowledged his presence and allowed him to ride with Daemon, Vermithor was… welcoming him as if he was welcoming a new friend.

Jon's instincts got the better of him, he opened his arms and hugged the creature's snout. The warmth of his scales was as comforting as the arms of his father, Jon felt more alive than he ever did. After a moment, the bronze fury let out a grunt, and a bit of smoke escaped his nostrils, catching the boy by surprise and giving him a fit of coughing. Jaehaerys smiled warmly.

"He likes you."

"I like him too. He is… wonderful, and so friendly."

The Old King knelt by his great grandson, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Then perhaps you can take care of him, after I am gone."

Jon's eyes widened, he looked at his liege with a expression mixed with fear and wonder. Then he looked at Vermithor.

"I'll tr…" He bit his tongue. "If Vermithor wants me, I'll do my best."

"Good boy." Jaehaerys praised before looking at his dragon. "When you look at Vermithor, what do you see?"

Jon frowned, clearly not expecting such a question. He took a moment to think.

"A friend." Was the answer that came most naturally. "A member of our pack."

Jaehaerys felt his heart grow warmer.

"You are very different than most our kin, Jaehaeron. Most of us, and most of the World believes that dragons are our weapons, that we can control them and force our will upon them. But that is a lie, they help us because of the bond that we create with them, we must give to them as much as they give us, or the only thing that awaits us would be a catastrophe."

Jon nodded unable to detach his purple eyes from Vermithor's bronze iris.

Jaehaerys' expression grew grave in the split of a second, as he prepared himself to share with his great grandson one of the greatest secret of their house.

"Jaehaeron, I need you to listen to me carefully." He waited until he had his great grandson's full attention before he spoke again. "You will not repeat the words I am about to tell you to anyone, this is for your ears only, and the ears of your children and their children after them, do you understand?"

Jon nodded.

"Our histories, they tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone, he saw a rich land ripe for the capture. But ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest; it was a dream. Just like yours."

Jon eyebrows rose, he felt his heartbeat accelerate, history had never mentioned this detail.

Jaehaerys went on.

"You were not the first who foresaw the arrival of the White Walkers, Aegon the conqueror did a hundred years ago; he foresaw the end of the World of men."

Jon felt his blood boil, and his jaw fall, that was it! The one piece of information that could have changed everything! Lost with the Dragons during their fall!

"It is to begin with a terrible Winter gusting out of the distant North just like you saw. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds, unlike you though, he was not able to identify what dwelved in it. But he knew that whatever it was would destroy the World of the living."

"How…?" Jon whispered. "How can we stop it? How can we stop them?"

Jaehaerys grabbed him by the shoulders, and looked into his eyes.

"If the World of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be sited on the Iron Throne, a King or a Queen, strong enough to unite the Realm against the Cold and the Darkness."

Jon's emotions and thoughts were in turmoil, he couldn't believe this, he couldn't believe that the answer to defeat the White Walkers, the answer he had been looking for all this time… was the House of the Dragon. And yet, it was so obvious! Dragons would be the most formidable allies against the Others.

"That is why you want Viserys to sit on the Iron Throne." He realized. "Laenor is a Velaryon."

Jaehaerys smiled at the young boy's intelligence, finally someone could see things his way.

"My greatest mistake was to never share this secret with my wife." He regretted sadly. "This secret has been passed from King to heir since Aegon's time… But the deaths of my sons should have made me realize that it is too easy for such a secret to be lost forever. That is why, I am passing it to you, Jaehaeron, for I believe that you more than anyone else need to know, what our family will be up against if we are not careful."

Jon felt like he was hyperventilating, tears were falling down his cheeks as he remembered the Night King's deep cold eyes on him. He knew what he had to do now.

"I promise, I will not let this secret die with me. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."

Jaehaerys felt a heavy burden being removed from his shoulders, he smiled and took his great grandson in his arms.

"Aegon called his dream 'The Song of Ice and Fire', and as you are the son of House Targaryen and House Stark, I believe you were destined to be the stepping stone to ensure our family's future. Keep this secret safe, share it with who you deem fit, make sure it is never forgotten. And protect our family, Jaehaeron, promise me."

"I will." Jon instantly replied. "I will."

Vermithor suddenly roared to the sky and breathed a colossal streak of bronze flames that illuminated the plain in which they were standing and startled the Kingsguards who were watching.

Jon clutched on his Great grandfather clothes, his eyes filled with fury and determination.

"I WILL!"