Chapter 36

Chapter 36

GWAYNE HIGHTOWER

The third son of Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, stood on the shores of the capital as a massive ship docked at the Black Water Bay. Lord Strong from the council stood ahead with him to welcome the man who was aboard these ships. The Princess had wanted to come as well, but the tensions with the Gold Cloaks had forced the King to make the Princess stay in the castle as he and Lord Strong moved to the Bay to welcome back the Prince, accompanied by the castle guards along with a few Gold Cloaks led by Ser Harwin Strong.

"ROAR!" he broke out of his reverie as a massive dragon flew above them, basking them all in its shadow as it flapped its wings and began to circle the capital.

"The dragon has grown bigger," he commented, having last seen the beast in Braavos a few months back, and even then, the Grey Ghost seemed to be growing at a massive pace. Once, it had been the smallest of the dragons, being less than half the size of the Blood Wyrm, though now it had caught up.

The massive beast with its white-grey scales, white pristine skin, and blue eyes was still a marvel to look at. As the dragon circled around and made its way toward the clearing in front of them, he finally caught a glimpse of the person sitting on the saddle riding the massive beast.

The Guards moved back as the dragon descended towards the ground, blowing wind into their faces, forcing Gwayne to put up his arm to stop the dust from entering his eyes.

The dragon had also become more docile than the last time he had seen it. Perhaps it had been agitated by the state of its rider when he had last seen it. The ground shook as it landed into the clearing, its eyes narrowed toward them before a small whisper made the beast calm down.

"Gīda ilagon! Gīda ilagon!" ( Calm Down! Calm Down! )

Gwayne's proficiency in High Valyrian was lacking as he failed to understand what was being said. The words did calm down the dragon, who eased up as it lowered its head as a rather familiar figure jumped out of the saddle strapped to the Dragon's back.

Prince Aenys Targaryen smiled at him as he and Lord Strong moved forward with the basket of bread and salt to welcome the prince.

"The King sends his greetings to you upon your return, my prince. He has sent me here to welcome you to the capital," said Lord Strong as Prince Aenys gave the Master of Laws a nod and shook the man's hand. The Prince took a piece of bread and took a small bite of it for ceremonial purposes before finally turning to face him

"How are you, Ser Gwayne!" the Prince teased as the two of them gave each other a brief hug.

"Not yet, my Prince. But hopefully soon, especially with the tourney being set up in honor of your return," he replied with a chuckle, the Prince nodded as they separated, and the Prince looked back as a wooden step was lowered from the massive ship. A crowd had now gathered and were looking at the massive ship with awe, and why wouldn't they?

Gwayne had never seen a ship that size. The ship easily dwarfed the kingdom's largest ships and seemed to have been built out of iron wood.

The Prince began to move towards the ramp as a score of guards descended from the ramp as the prince quickly made his way to the top when a single figure appeared atop the wooden steps.

For some reason, the crowd of common folk broke out into a massive cheer as they saw the Prince slowly aid his lady wife down the steps.

"DRAGONSLAYER!" "DRAGONSLAYER!" "BLESSED HEALER!"

They chanted, and he didn't miss how a number of those chants were aimed at the beauty of his sister, who seemed rather awed by the spectacle. Their eyes met, and she gave him a small nod. Then, his eyes finally landed on the three servants slowly carrying a wooden crib behind her, and he frowned.

The size of the crib seemed rather large for a few-month-old child. Both of them finally stepped onto the solid ground as Lord Strong made his way towards Alicent and conveyed the Crown's greetings. And then, before he could say anything, he stilled as he heard a dragon's roar. And before he could react, the Prince's dragon had moved and had wrapped itself around the Prince and Alicent.

He looked up and recognized a very familiar dragon flying towards them. The guards eased as well as they recognized the beast that often took to the skies of Kingslanding.

"It's Syrax, the Princess's dragon," he said as the dragon circled above them. The guards scrambled to the side to make space for the second dragon, and the massive, dirty brown dragon touched the ground, making the whole ground shake. The Princess quickly jumped off the beast, clad in riding leathers, and he smiled as he saw her sparkling eyes as she ran past them.

"Alicent!" he heard her shout in an elated voice and watched as she jumped at his sister, who barely caught onto her.

"Rhaenyra!" he heard his sister nearly shrieked, as the two childhood friends hugged each other passionately. The two of them separated and began to talk in a hushed town as the guards moved to move their cargo.

The Prince stood on the side, talking with Lord Strong about something.

"Is that…!" he heard the Princess shout suddenly and looked towards her abruptly and found her standing against the crib with his sister, her eyes wide in surprise, and he rushed towards her, wanting to see what had the princess so alarmed.

And he stilled as well as he saw the spectacle inside the crib. For in the crib lay a small babe, his skin wrinkled and a small tuft of silvery blonde hair atop his head. Though what had surprised him wasn't the babe, no it was the small scaly beast wrapped around it, asleep right next to the babe.

"That is a dragon!"

0000

AENYS TARGARYEN

Aenys Targaryen found himself standing once more in the King's solar, the color and delight had been sucked out of the place and it felt hollow and empty with the absence of Aemma, much like Viserys, who sat there, looking at him with a complicated expression. There was guilt in those eyes, guilt, and pain.

Aenys had been wroth with his brother when he had heard of Aemma's death. And he had thought that upon seeing Viserys, he would argue with the man, blame him for her death, chastise him for not listening to him. However, as he saw how Viserys had become only a shell of himself, his face marred by pitting scars, as his armless sleeve hung by his side.

"You should have listened to me. Had you trusted me, she would still be here?" Aenys spoke softly as he moved towards the seat opposite Viserys, whose lips thinned at his words. There was no accusation in his tone, nor was there anger. Both of them knew that he was right.

"True, and she would have been happy to see you return to the capital with a son," Viserys replied as Aenys poured wine into two cups and passed one to Viserys.

"Indeed, she would have been happy," Aenys said as he took a sip of his wine and looked up at Viserys, he added.

"But the question is, are you?"

And Viserys smiled and nodded.

"I am, I am," replied Viserys with a smile, though his eyes told a different story. They were filled with intrigue and questions, and Aenys had a good idea about what they were about.

"Though I must say I was surprised to hear that your son had hatched a dragon. It has been years since an egg has hatched in the cradle," commented Viserys, and Aenys shrugged and smiled.

"Yes, it has been some time. But I was lucky. Grey Ghost lay a small clutch of eggs just before Alicent gave birth to Aenar. Three eggs, it lay and I placed one in his cradle. It hatched only a few days ago," Aenys added, and everything except the last part of it was false. And perhaps the way Viserys's eyes sparkled after that, he suspected it as well.

"So, tell me about your condition. What do the Maesters think?" Aenys questioned, shifting away the discussion from the eggs to Viserys as he pointed towards his missing arm.

"The maesters remain clueless about it. They have tried everything, yet nothing has worked," said Viserys with a shake of his head as he looked towards his missing arm.

"I can feel my own life slipping through my hands like sand. And I cannot even do anything about it," said Viserys with a saddened tone.

Aenys's eyes narrowed on his brother as he sipped his wine and he slowly spoke up.

"The maesters are right about one thing, this ailment will take you to the grave," and as he said those words, he saw Viserys look towards him with wide eyes.

"However, that doesn't mean that there isn't anything I can do," Aenys added and saw Viserys eyes sparkle with hope.

"The disease you have is somewhat related to the ailment that Aunt Maegella had. I have brought my equipment with me along with men capable enough to use it. I make no promises, but I will see what I can do," Aenys assured Viserys, who nodded slowly.

"Thank you," said Viserys in a shaky tone as he stared at him with an intense gaze. In the end, he finally broke the silence.

"I don't see Daemon in the castle. I have heard that he has a son of his own now. Where is he?" Aenys questioned. He hadn't missed the absence of the Gold Cloaks in the guards sent to escort him and Alicent, nor the troubled expression of Lord Strong when he had breached the topic with the man.

And Viserys's gaze hardened at his words as he spoke heatedly.

"He is no longer welcome in this castle!"

0000

MYSARIA

"Impossible!" she saw Daemon rage as he read the message her informants had brought them. The arrival of Prince Aenys had been celebrated with much elation. Though the capital still mourned the loss of its Queen, the people rejoiced at the return of the famous couple of Aenys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower.

Aenys's renown, especially among the masses, was massive given that his healers provided the common folk with treatments for ailments that weren't available to them before. Add to that the fact the Prince had literally slain a dragon to gain the hand of his current wife and had just thwarted a major assassination attempt. Aenys Targaryen was a heartthrob among the common folk.

"A dragon! How the hell did an egg hatch for that bastard and whore's child!" Daemon raged, and the informant looked around nervously.

"And how the hell did he even get an egg?" and that question had piqued her curiosity as well. How had Aenys Targaryen gotten his hand on a dragon egg, though the answer came quickly?

It was one of Alissano's eggs. He had somehow gotten his hands on the three eggs that the Neysaris family had bought. Yet she stayed quiet, knowing that such knowledge could erode Daemon's trust. For she may hold some sway over the Rogue Prince, yet she knew enough about the Prince that he wouldn't hesitate to cut her head off if he even got a whiff of her true intentions. She had already exposed herself too much when she had contacted that mystic healer to heal him and his dragon.

"It must have been her!" suddenly Daemon shouted, and her eyes narrowed as he walked towards the chair and sat down angrily. She motioned for the messenger to leave as she stood up herself and slowly made her way towards his back and slowly eased her hands into his shoulders.

"Who?" she questioned and saw his face twist in rage and anger before he mouthed a rather unlikely name.

"Rhaenyra! That bitch! It must have been her. Viserys left Dragonstone to her, and so she is the only person who could have given that bastard those eggs!" spoke Daemon vehemently in a hateful tone before a cruel smile appeared on his face.

"She thinks that Aenys can save her in some way. Like that coward could help her keep the position she usurped from me," he finished, and he narrowed his eyes.

"I will show her! Show her what it truly means to go against me!" he said as he looked towards her.

"I have heard that my brother plans to hold a tourney in a month, to celebrate the return of his brother," he asked her, and she nodded. Though it wasn't confirmed, she had heard rumors about this as well. And given the King's preferences, it was highly likely that a tourney would be held soon.

"Yes, there are such rumors," she told him, and he nodded as his eyes lit up.

"And I believe her little lover will be taking part in it as well, hoping to earn his spurs. Perhaps it is time that Otto's brat learns what it means to anger a dragon," and her eyes widened as she realized his intentions.

"But Daemon, your injuries," she spoke up in a concerned tone, even after everything the mystic healer had done, using blood sacrifices and every obscure ritual he could to save Daemon's life. Yet magic could only ever do so much. Despite the Valyrian blood coursing through his veins, his injuries had been very severe.

"I will be fine. It has been more than a year since the injuries. I will be fine," he retorted confidently, and she held her tongue, knowing that there was no way she could sway him away from this.

"Gwayne Hightower! I will show you what it means to go against Daemon Targaryen!"

0000

Viserys Targaryen found himself standing in a rather familiar room, and he looked down and found his missing arm attached to his side. He frowned as he looked around the room, and his heart stilled as he saw the bed in the King's solar occupied by an old person.

His heart thumped in his chest as he recognized the person lying on the bed. Yet, he found himself unable to utter a single word as the old man's eyes narrowed on him, and he uttered the words with which the reign of King Viserys Targaryen had truly begun.

"He should have been king… should have been the king. He knew…. He knew…. I should have…." And then just as he tried to force himself to speak up, he heard someone shout near him.

"Your grace….. Your grace!"

Then, suddenly, everything vanished, and Viserys suddenly jumped, looked around, and found himself in that very room once more.

"Your grace," someone called out from the side, and he looked to the side and found a servant standing there speaking quietly as the rays of the sun lit up the room through the unfurled windows.

"Your grace. Lord Strong is here with Prince Aenys for your treatment. Should I let them in?" the servant asked, and Viserys wet his hand using the water bowl placed on the table and sprinkled the water on his face to clear away the sleep from himself.

"Yes, tell them I will be there," he ordered, and the servant left the room, leaving him alone as his mind refused to let go of what he had just seen. A memory he had long tried to forget and had succeeded in doing so. A memory that had cast a very long shadow over his reign.

For many years, he had thought that the old King had called out for his sons, Aemon or perhaps even Baelon, at that moment. Lamenting the fate of his two eldest sons, yet had he been wrong?

Yet his mind chose to ignore the fact that both of them had been long dead by then. Or did it?

0000

On the other side of the castle, as the sun crept out of the clouds engulfing the whole city in the morning light, in the Redkeep, the Princess's room had remained alit deep into the night, as the heir to the Seven Kingdoms sat on her bed, with several tomes placed on her bed, her eyes narrowed onto the texts of Septon Barth-Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History.

0000

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