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Last True Remnant of Old Valyria

An unknown powerful Dragon Lord with the knowledge of modern world and future comes into turbulent time of the Dance of Dragons. With lineage greater than Targaryen could ever hope to achieve. What change would it bring to the fate of others?? This is my first work. So, if you like this work just motivate me with leaving review and power stones so at least I know that my work is being appreciated. Because I am new into this it takes hours to write one chapter so just give me some motivation with power stones. And last English isn't my first language, and I am learning as I write. Chao! Enjoy This my buymeacoffee if you want to support me or like to read advance chapters of this fic. buymeacoffee.com/Daeranyx_Drakonar patreon.com/Daeranyx_Drakonar

Daeranyx_Drakonar · 作品衍生
分數不夠
49 Chs

Stay on Capital

King's Landing,

Daeranyx POV

I gaze upon their astonished faces with amusement in my eyes. At least they are aware of the five major houses of Valyria. It's understandable, as these houses were nearly as famous as Valyrian steel and the Black stone of Valyria, having been the inventors and creators of such items. While it is not my house, the knowledge was bestowed upon my house in honor of the alliance formed between our houses thousands of years ago. However, the alliance barely lasted fifty years before the two houses were at odds once more.

Recovering from their astonishment, Lord Coryls responded respectfully, "It is our pleasure to meet a man of such distinguished lineage. However, you must forgive us for requesting some form of evidence to substantiate your claim in our minds. It is not that one would jest about such matters." He truly possessed a merchant's eloquence, as he requested proof of my heritage without causing offense.

It is to be expected as sailing across most of the known world would at least bestow exceptional communication skills, given the need to interact with various peoples. What should I display to them without disclosing too much? The dragon horn could work, but it might make them wary of me. While magic is scarce in this world, it doesn't automatically grant the right to claim a higher lineage. Even so, my story seems more fantastical than the long night. Because I'm telling them that I am over two hundred years old and have survived the catastrophe that destroyed the greatest empire they've ever known, all without basic necessities. Their limited understanding of what magic can do certainly doesn't help my case either.

"I understand your skepticism regarding my claim. But what could I possibly present from Valyria that you would recognize? If my entire Valyrian armor is not sufficient," I said. It appears that in the heat of the moment, they failed to notice that my armor is made entirely of Valyrian steel. Oh, I am relishing this more than I had anticipated. The expressions on their faces have amused me immensely. After recovering from yet another astonishing revelation, they regained their composure and began to ponder what they would like to see from Valyria.

I must say, a face graced with Valyrian beauty and a look of deep contemplation suits Rhaenyra well. I've seen memories where the most beautiful Valyrian women vie for Daeranyx's attention, hoping to align their houses with the Drakonars through marriage. She may not surpass them in beauty, but she is still stunning. Observing memories from someone else's perspective differs vastly from witnessing events with your own eyes. Daemon still glares at me with some anger, though it lacks the fiery rage he exhibited before. It seems his passion for the Valyrian heritage of his family has tempered his anger towards me. Viserys is happy; it's evident in his eyes, though he restrains it from showing on his face. After all, the eyes, chico, they never lie. I've longed to utter that line. Viserys maintains the composure befitting a king. Corlys's face betrays no emotion, and his gaze sizes me up, assessing how he might best leverage the situation to his advantage.

"I have come bearing a gift, which I intend to present after witnessing the fate of the last Dragonlords of Valyria. During my travels, I've learned much about your king's desire to know more about Valyria. At its zenith, Valyria was renowned for many marvels, such as dragons, Valyrian steel, and black stone, which are more celebrated than others. However, there were numerous other wonders in Valyria that have yet to be replicated, even two hundred years after its fall." Amidst my speech, I retrieve the shrunken suitcase and restore it to its original size. Reaching into the suitcase, I intend to extract the framed painting from my room in Valyria.

It's a painting of Valyria, depicted from atop one of its towering volcanoes. My father had a passion for collecting artwork, cherishing each piece dearly. Thus, he transported the era's finest artist to the mountain's summit on his dragon to capture the essence of Mother Valyria in a painting. While I doubt this is the sole existing portrayal of Valyria in paintings or tapestries, those who possess such art would likely cling to it tenaciously.

All lords and ladies' eyes widened as I pulled out a painting, twice the size of the suitcase, from the aforementioned object. I handed the painting to a nearby Kingsguard to present it to Viserys. Viserys then instructed the Kingsguard to stand at a distance so he could view the entire painting. Immediately, the other Targaryens and Corlys, unable to contain their curiosity, gathered around Viserys. Upon seeing the painting, expressions of awe adorned their faces. After a moment of admiration, they returned to their previous positions. Viserys continued to gaze at the painting as a man would upon discovering water in a desert.

"We have now no doubts regarding your claims, Lord Drakonar, not that there were any to begin with. I would like to extend the hospitality of our keep to you. We can discuss Valyria further after you have rested, as traveling by dragon comes with its own set of challenges." As he spoke, the surrounding lords and ladies began to disperse, whispering amongst themselves. Once the last of them had left the room, Viserys instructed one of the King's Guard to lead me to my quarters. I offered him a grateful nod, for that was all he would receive from me; I would not kneel, for he wielded no power over me, and I was not his subject.

As the King's guard led me to the room, I was impressed by its grandeur, reserved for guests of high status such as the lord paramount of their region. The room was adorned with the finest luxuries the medieval era could offer. Upon entering, I inquired of a King's guard about the possibility of a bath. He assured me he would attend to it and departed in the direction from whence we came. I proceeded to inspect the room, and upon completion, I stood on the balcony which afforded a splendid view of the city. While I was taking in the view, some servants arrived and began to prepare my bath.

After expressing my gratitude and informing the maids that I wouldn't require their assistance but would call upon them if needed, I settled into the bathtub to contemplate my next move. Observing Rhaenyra's age and Daemon's presence in King's Landing, I surmised that Aemma must still be alive and likely to give birth soon, her absence from the throne room possibly indicating as much.

Saving Aemma would earn me the gratitude and favor of both Viserys and Rhaenyra, as they hold Aemma in great affection and would be indebted to anyone who could spare her from death. Aemma is depicted in the show and the books as a kind-hearted individual, sacrificing her life for Viserys to secure an heir, albeit without her consent. If I were to let her die, Rhaenyra would likely be named heir, assuming the timeline remains largely unchanged from what I know. Viserys, knowing even a fraction of my capabilities, would eagerly unite our lines. By accepting his proposal, I would ascend to the role of king consort, binding myself to the Seven Kingdoms.

It would be a cold day in hell before I tie myself to the seven kingdoms and become merely a king consort, especially when I've been granted a second chance. This second chance in life comes with gifts that could make me the most powerful individual in the world over time. If I were to settle for merely being the King consort with all these gifts at my disposal, I would be deemed a fool in the annals of history.

While I harbor no ambitions to conquer the entire world, I aspire to establish an empire that surpasses the Dawn Empire. As Corlys' would say, "What is this brief, mortal life if not the pursuit of legacy?" I intend to lead a life that is far from brief, if it's within my control. My aim is to leave a legacy that endures as long as intelligent life exists on this planet. Anything less would not suffice. Therefore, binding myself to the Iron Throne is not on my do-list.

To achieve that, I would require an army and allies in this world. However, my purpose here isn't solely for toil; I intend to relish life and garner experiences from my forthcoming travels. My goal is to forge connections with the Targaryens, to explore if we could evolve beyond our current state, to share knowledge, and to observe its impact on the future.

After finishing my bath and dressing in attire befitting my rank, I step out onto the balcony to observe Anarion soaring above the city and the Blackwater Rush. I watch him hunt, and once he's finished, he glides towards the Kingswood for rest. As the sun reaches its zenith, a knock at my door breaks the silence. Upon my permission, a maid enters and informs me that the midday meal is prepared and the Targaryens await my presence. She is here to escort me to them.

Having secured the sword to my belt, I began to follow the maid. Let's what is Targaryen's has to offer me?

Give me a Power Stone.

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