Aegon, his demigod form radiating divine majesty, sat upon the Valyrian steel throne, gazing down from on high at all things in the mortal realm.
His expression was solemn as his eyes settled on Balerion, the Black Dread, who hovered before the metal platform. He let out a soft sigh.
"Balerion… among all the dragons of Valyria, you may well be one of the most unique."
"To sense the approach of your own death, and of your own will return to the birthplace of dragonkind… Since you have come, I will aid you—granting you another hundred years of life."
From the pillar of flesh, thick, sinewy tendrils shot forth like flying spears, piercing cleanly into Balerion's body.
Streams of undying essence flowed steadily from the pillar into the great dragon.
Balerion roared in pain, the sound cracking the air like thunder. Yet he did not beat his colossal wings to flee, nor struggle against the conduits embedded in his flesh—he knew whatever was being infused into him would only make him stronger.
Moments later, the tendrils slowly withdrew. Aegon's gaze shifted to the small figure on Balerion's back.
"Elder, can you help me live longer too?" Little Aerea called down excitedly.
Perched in the dragon saddle, her small body barely showed above its edge, only her head visible.
Aegon smiled faintly.
"Your path in life is still long—you have no need of extra years. To live your own life to the fullest is the greatest gift of all."
"And besides… mortals cannot bear the immortality of the gods—just as she cannot."
As he spoke, Aegon lifted a finger and pointed toward a nearby mountain peak.
Aerea followed his gesture. At the summit stood a vast and flourishing weirwood, soaring hundreds of meters high, like a colossal canopy spread across the sky.
As if aware of the demigod's and Aerea's gaze, the massive crown swayed and slowly parted, revealing the upper half of a woman beneath its boughs.
Her long hair was the color of ash-tinged blue, her full chest modestly veiled by overlapping heart-shaped leaves, while her lower body merged seamlessly into the roots of the weirwood.
"Balerion?" Illya called softly.
The Black Dread seemed to recognize her, answering with a low rumble.
Illya's lips curved into a gentle smile, the tree's crown swaying as though waving in greeting.
Aerea quickly shook her head—she certainly did not wish to become a tree. Her wide, pleading eyes turned toward Aegon, silently begging the god-king for something else instead.
Aegon gave a small wave.
Another sinewy tendril detached from the pillar, slowly extending toward her. Its tip unfurled like a blossoming flower, and from deep within the pillar, an oval shape began to rise along its length.
It emerged from the flower-like opening and dropped gently into the half-open saddle before Aerea.
It was a dragon egg, its shell covered in red scales—yet unlike any she had ever seen.
Most dragon eggs were no larger than a man's head. This one was half a meter across.
"It's huge!" Aerea gasped.
"This is my gift to you," Aegon said with a smile. "Take it to Westeros—its true master awaits it there."
Clutching the massive egg tightly in both arms, Aerea nodded again and again, waving enthusiastically.
"Goodbye, Elder!" she shouted.
Balerion gave Aegon a deep roar, almost like a farewell, before spreading his wings and leaping skyward.
But no sooner had they cleared the pillar than rotting dragon corpses moved to intercept them, forcing Balerion into another brutal battle before he could finally tear free of the ruins.
Illya's form slid free from the weirwood like a supple vine, winding her way up the pillar until she reached Aegon's side.
Cupping his face between her hands, she pressed a deep, lingering kiss to his lips. Only after a long while did she draw back, speaking softly.
"I long for a child—one as sweet and lovely as that little girl."
Aegon wrapped his arms around her dryad-like body, letting out a sigh.
"What we bring into the world would be a godspawn… why do you cling to this wish?"
"Even if it is a godspawn, I still want it," Illya said firmly, her arms tightening around his neck.
...
King's Landing, atop Rhaenys Hill.
After Aerea flew off on Balerion, Aegon and Rhaella's dragon-taming trials did not cease.
Guided by the foresight granted to him through his prophetic visions, Aegon chose not to contract with any of the other unclaimed dragons. They were too small, their potential mediocre at best; even if they lived to adulthood, they would be nothing more than ordinary dragons—not even a match for Vhagar.
Rhaella, however, threw herself into the attempt with determination. But perhaps because she had been rejected by Balerion, and had then watched her timid younger sister Aerea succeed where she had failed, the blow to her pride was crushing. She changed mounts again and again, yet failed every time.
Of the three royal siblings taking part in this round of Targaryen dragon-taming, only Aerea succeeded—and she had been carried off by Balerion and vanished.
The stalemate between the White and Red factions remained unbroken.
...
Once the dragon trials concluded, Aegon met with his cousin Jaehaerys as they had agreed, the two gathering in a private room of a tavern just outside the city walls.
Maegor, disappointed by his son's failure to tame a dragon, no longer bothered to stop him from meeting with Jaehaerys, a core member of the White faction. In a way, it gave Aegon more freedom.
Aegon hadn't expected that Alysanne, another transplantee of the White faction, would be there as well.
Alysanne was fourteen, with blue eyes and honey-colored curls—a petite young woman with high cheekbones, a broad forehead, and a long, graceful neck. Her chest was small, her waist slender, her frame delicate, and her skin as flawless as polished jade.
"Greetings, Dragon Prince," Alysanne said warmly as she rose from the table, extending her hand to him.
"Haven't we already met on the viewing platform?" Aegon replied with a smile, giving her hand a light shake.
In Westeros, handshakes were more common between men, so her gesture spoke of a naturally open and cheerful nature.
Aegon remembered that in his previous life as Regalus, he had personally gone to Dragonstone to retrieve the last silver dragon egg of House Valentine for her. She had hatched it while still a babe in arms, and it had become her lifelong companion—Silverwing.
"Then may I call you Little Aegon?" she said, her smile curling her eyes into bright crescents, her manner inviting and warm.
"Just call me Aegon," he answered with an easy grin. "I have always been a loyal supporter of His Majesty Regalus, and I hope one day to match his achievements."
Jaehaerys hadn't expected him to state his ambitions so plainly. Inwardly, he marked Aegon as yet another ambitious Targaryen.
In truth, this dinner wasn't about the food.
Both Jaehaerys and Alysanne had long since lost their sense of taste—eating was little more than a chore to them. Only Aegon ate with genuine enjoyment.
Jaehaerys lifted a goblet of deep red wine toward him. Aegon clinked his cup in return.
"I truly envy you," Jaehaerys said. "Even though becoming half-dragon has weakened you, you still retain your human taste and appetite.
"If it weren't for Aly's constant encouragement and company these past years, I might have awakened by now."
Alysanne tipped her head back and downed a generous swallow of wine, laughing lightly. "We dragonborn may have lost our taste, but alcohol still hits the nerves. These days, our only indulgence is drinking—hic."
Draining her cup, she quickly refilled it for all three of them.
Aegon turned his own goblet slowly in his hand. "You two seem… strongly opposed to the Awakened."
Jaehaerys let out a heavy sigh. "We were forced to accept the life seed under your father's coercion. No one chooses to become a demon that feasts on the entrails of their own kind.
"Every time I think of my mother and brothers eating human viscera, my stomach twists—I can barely keep from retching."
Aegon took a slow sip, his eyes fixed on Jaehaerys. "Then why remain with the White faction? They are no longer our kind."
Setting his cup down, Jaehaerys met his gaze with grave seriousness. "Because the New Citadel at Harrenhal is in the hands of both the White and the Red factions."
Aegon frowned, waiting for him to elaborate.
"You know of the great battle that followed the awakening of Regalus and the Savior," Jaehaerys continued. "They both perished, and their bodies were taken to Dragonstone for cremation."
"But the blood and flesh they spilled in battle was gathered by the New Citadel for study."
"From that flesh, the Witch-Doctor school bred something they call Dragonlord eggs."
"The archmaesters of the New Citadel then scattered these eggs across villages and towns in the Crownlands. Many who consumed them transformed into monsters that feed on human entrails."
"After devouring human viscera, such creatures can reshape their bodies to mimic the appearance of their victims, hiding in plain sight among townsfolk."
Aegon's fingers tightened slightly around his cup, the wine inside rippling faintly. He had not imagined the Citadel's esoteric schools would sink so low as to use commoners as test subjects. And from Jaehaerys's account, the Dragonlord egg experiments seemed already beyond the Citadel's control.
Noticing the flicker of anger in Aegon's eyes, Jaehaerys knew he had finally found a Targaryen royal with his wits intact.
He and Alysanne had sought out many of Regalus's bastards, hoping to forge an alliance, but most had shown no concern for the experiments.
Pampered from birth, raised in the palace and untouched by the struggles of the common folk, they lacked both empathy and compassion.
In the Targaryen royal family, a prince like Jaehaerys—one who sympathized with the common folk—was seen by both the royal bloodline and the Regalus' bastards as an oddity, a misfit among his kin.
Now, finding someone in the royal family who shared his outlook, Jaehaerys felt a mix of relief and emotion. Gripping Aegon's hand, he said with deep conviction, "You don't realize it yet, but although the White and Red factions are constantly at each other's throats in the royal court, in truth they're both nothing more than monsters who care nothing for humanity."
Alysanne, hearing her brother speak so bluntly, immediately understood that such words could never be spoken openly in King's Landing. If the White or Red factions overheard, Jaehaerys could easily end up imprisoned—or the two of them might be forced into awakening.
"Little Jace, that's going too far," she murmured, tugging at his sleeve.
Jaehaerys coughed awkwardly, rubbing his throat before taking another deep swallow of wine.
Seeing his unease, Aegon said, "You don't need to worry. I stand with neither the White nor the Red. My allegiance is to House Targaryen—and to humanity."
Jaehaerys exhaled slowly, releasing a faint haze of wine on his breath. Moments ago, he'd truly been afraid—his sympathies clearly leaned toward humanity, and if Aegon had carried word of this to King Maegor or Queen Dowager Rhaenys, it would have spelled disaster for him.
"Where were we? Go on. If I'm to serve both House Targaryen and humanity, I need the full picture," Aegon said, refilling his cousin's cup.
Jaehaerys' cheeks had taken on a faint flush. Turning the stem of his goblet between his fingers, he began, "The reason I haven't left the White faction is because some of the New Citadel's research into dragonborn does have real value.
"What I value most is the New Medical School's work on eliminating the life seed's effect on a dragonborn's hunger. Unfortunately, there's been no progress.
"There are other projects too—like finding ways for dragonborn to awaken without losing their human reason and falling entirely to bestial instincts.
"The dragonborn eye you received as an infant? That was one of their successes.
"They call the project 'Dragon's Kin.' By transplanting tissue from an awakened dragonborn into another body, they can grant power beyond mortal limits.
"Dragon's Kin are far weaker than full dragonborn, but they retain more human traits, are much less likely to awaken, and can serve as a semi-controllable fighting force."
Aegon tapped a finger lightly against the table as he sorted through the information, then repeated it back: "So you're saying the Crownlands beyond the Red Keep have already become the New Citadel's testing ground for dragonborn experiments. Countless creatures that have eaten Dragonlord eggs hide among men, and the Citadel's occult schools use them to push their research forward.
"And all of this… is bankrolled by the Targaryen crown, isn't it?"
Jaehaerys nodded. "Exactly. For those of us who stand with humanity, we face a hard choice—whether to destroy the Citadel's occult schools outright. Our ultimate aim is to seize influence over the ruling powers of the Targaryen dynasty and put an end to their cannibalism."
Aegon asked, "Then tell me—in your view, what would you have me do?"
Alysanne answered, "The New Citadel is building a new military force composed entirely of Dragon's Kin—every one of them grafted with dragonborn flesh.
"The White and Red factions are racing to control this army.
"You were the first Dragon's Kin, so you have every reason to join—and to take command of them all. That would give us a real foundation to resist the Awakened.
"What do you say?"
Aegon thought for a long moment before replying, "I'll need time to consider."
Jaehaerys nodded. "We can't afford missteps. If you think of a better way forward, tell us."
Aegon inclined his head in acknowledgment.
The three drained their cups, exchanged a final toast, and left the tavern.
...
After that meeting, Aegon made no further contact with Jaehaerys or Alysanne. He had no wish to give either faction reason to suspect him of opposing the Awakened, nor did he petition Maegor to join the Dragon's Kin forces the New Citadel was assembling.
He was waiting—for Aerea and Balerion to return.
The prophetic vision had shown him that Aerea would meet his demigod self, and when she did, he intended to give her a gift.
For now, Jaehaerys and Alysanne urging him to oppose the Awakened was a hollow move. Without any real weapon against them, such defiance would only lead to death.
Only with Aerea and Balerion back at his side would he have both the strength and the confidence to stand his ground.
It was a long, grueling wait.
Aegon spent nearly a year idle in the Red Keep, though not in idleness—he requested and studied every scrap of dragonborn lore the New Citadel was willing to send him.
He had gained a general understanding of the Maesters' research into dragonborn and Dragon's Kin over the past decade.
Finally, in the early months of the forty-ninth year since the Conquest, Aerea returned to the Rhaenys' Dragonpit, riding Balerion in from Blackwater Bay.
She was gravely ill, clinging to the dragon saddle with all her strength, her thin arms wrapped tightly around a massive red dragon egg—wheel-sized, its diameter astonishing.
Aerea was almost unrecognizable. Her body was gaunt, her clothes—whatever they once had been—were now nothing more than tattered rags. Her hair was dull and tangled like dry grass, and blood streamed constantly from her eyes.
After gasping out the words, "I will not," she collapsed into unconsciousness.
Ser Lucamore Strong of the Kingsguard carried her to Maester Bennifer.
Half a month later, Aerea's condition began to improve—but Maester Bennifer himself had unfortunately contracted the illness. A chill gripped him, making his body shake violently. His condition worsened rapidly, his teeth chattering, limbs jerking in uncontrollable spasms.
Aegon and the other members of the royal family brought Aerea out of Bennifer's chambers and back to the inner court, carrying with them the enormous red dragon egg.
...
In a side hall of the inner court, after she had washed and changed, Aerea had regained a little of her strength.
Though she still looked frail and worn, the little princess began recounting to the gathered Targaryens what she had seen and experienced on her journey.
"That's right—when Balerion and I first landed in Valyria, we ran into a giant sea monster. It must have been more than fifty meters long, completely unlike the krakens described in the books."
"It was enormous. I saw Balerion fight it in the water and then drag the whole beast onto shore. I even tasted its meat—it was as tough as leather. Even after being scorched by Balerion's dragonfire, I couldn't bite through it."
As she spoke, Aerea kept one hand pressed protectively against the giant egg, nearly as tall as she was.
Her story was so perilous and unbelievable that those listening could hardly imagine how she had survived in such hostile conditions.
Her mother, Rhaena, overcome with emotion, stepped forward to hug her tightly, tears glistening in her eyes.
"Aerea," Viserys called softly to his cousin.
Aerea turned her head toward him.
He pointed to the massive egg she guarded and asked curiously, "Where did you get this dragon egg? I've never seen one so large."
Viserys had never hatched a companion dragon as an infant, and his later attempts at taming dragons had all failed. To this day, he remained without a dragon.
Jealousy stirred in him at the sight of the colossal egg Aerea had brought back from the ruins of Valyria, and he began slowly stepping toward it. He wanted to try touching it—perhaps, against all odds, his will might be enough to form a bond and hatch it.
Aerea wriggled free of her mother's embrace, stepping in front of Viserys with her arms spread wide, shielding the egg behind her like a mother hen guarding her chicks.
"This is a gift from the elder," she declared in a clear, firm voice. "I went through countless hardships to bring it back! Only someone I truly like can touch it."
Aegon, watching her, allowed himself a faint smile.
After this journey, Aerea's courage had grown greatly. The timid, hesitant girl from a year ago was nowhere to be seen.
...
[Upto 20 chapters ahead for now]
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