Disclaimer: This is a story based on ASOIAF and Marvel characters and all recognizable characters, plots, belong to GRRM and Marvel. I have no ownership to it.
Chapter 7:A Song of Magic
King's Landing
5 days later.
Baelon Targaryen welcomed the roar of the crowd as they landed outside King's Landing. Alongside his father and brother, Baelon had easily and completely decimated the Dornish armada with their dragons—it had felt like hunting rats. At first, he'd felt some queasiness; it was the first time he was using his dragon for war and killing.
But the thrill of the hunt, the bloodlust of Vhagar, bled into him, and the excitement was intoxicating. Baelon wondered what madness had gripped the Dornish to make them attack with wooden ships.
He saw the king being greeted by a King's-guard knight and several members of the Small Council. The absence of his mother and Alyssa was jarring. Baelon could see that even Aemon and his father were unsettled.
Still, the king and his heir ignored the fact and didn't ask about the queen. They smiled for the nobles gathered, and soon the victory procession was about to begin.
Baelon looked at his brother and then at the king, who gave them a subtle nod. Grinning, Baelon sent the command to Vhagar.
ROAR.
All three dragons roared at once, soaring above the grounds and King's Landing. They had taken off after leaving their riders on the ground.
Baelon's grin widened as the thousands gathered along the path and outside the city walls cheered in awe. But the joy vanished almost instantly. The thunderous cheers and dragon cries were suddenly drowned out by another roar—from deep within King's Landing.
There was no real danger, but Baelon felt a chill at the sound of the Black Dread's voice. He forced a smile for the crowd, but it faltered when he saw the alarm flicker in the king's eyes.
The king turned to the Kingsguard beside him. Baelon watched as the knight leaned forward to whisper in the king's ear. For the first time, he saw panic on the king's face. It was quickly replaced by pride, and then a weary acceptance. The man who moments ago looked like a conquering hero now seemed burdened, as if the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders.
Baelon wondered what news could have shaken the king so deeply.
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Baelon didn't have to wait long to hear the news after reaching the Red keep, which took hours as the procession was slow. The king immediately summoned Baelon, Aemon, and the Kingsguard to his chambers to explain everything.
Baelon could hardly believe his ears.
The full story of Gaemon's madness was laid bare. How Gaemon had stolen Blackfyre. How he'd tricked his niece and nephew into creating a distraction. How he had claimed Balerion after using other dragons—and himself—to hunt the cursed fire wyrms hiding inside the Black Dread. How Gaemon had been horribly burned, only to heal rapidly, just like Balerion, who had devoured an entire year's worth of meat in one sitting. Then there was the threat Gaemon made toward the queen's dragon, which had enraged everyone.
"Where is he now?" the king asked at last.
"Your Grace," one of the Kingsguard replied, "he is under the care of both the queen and Princess Alyssa in the Dragonpit quarters. The Black Dread did not allow them to move Gaemon, and the chambers of the head dragonkeepers have been taken for his care."
"Who else knows the truth?" the king asked, his voice cold. Both Baelon and Aemon stiffened as they registered the underlying tension and slight panic in the voice of the king.
"By now, rumors had spread throughout King's Landing about the 'wild prince' Gaemon, who was known to spend more time with animals than with people. Whispers said he had finally snapped and attacked something inside the Dragonpit. From there, the stories had grown wild and distorted. No one knew the full truth. Only us, the Kingsguard, the queen, the princess, and two knighted men-at-arms from the Red Keep know that Prince Gaemon attacked Balerion with Blackfyre," one of the knights said. "Fortunately, the queen ordered those knights to stay silent. They are currently guarding the Dragonpit entrance. No one else knows about Gaemon's otherworldly ability to heal—like Balerion."
The king sat in silence for a moment, lost in thought. Finally, he spoke.
"The truth will not be revealed. I declare it treason to speak of this to anyone else. Let the rumors spread, as they always do and hide the truth."
Then he asked, "The knights who saw the attack and reported to the queen, are they trustworthy enough?"
The Kingsguard considered the question. "They are loyal, Your Grace, but they're young. If someone is clever enough, they might extract the truth from them."
"Keep them in the Dragonpit for now. They are not to meet anyone except the dragonkeepers until I make a formal announcement regarding Gaemon's claim of Balerion. Inform them that they must not reveal that Gaemon used Blackfyre."
"Yes, Your Grace," the Kingsguard said with a bow.
"Aemon. Baelon. Come. Let us meet my third son and your mother."
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Dragonpit
Gaemon woke up to the earsplitting roar of his Balerion. He had two default states when waking from unconsciousness. One, he would go on a rampage and kill everyone in whatever prison he was held in. Two, he would fake being unconscious and examine the situation before making a move.
This time, he felt drained and exhausted in a way he had never experienced in his long life. He reached around his body and was relieved to feel that most of his burns had healed. The holes in his body had closed, and even the burns had reduced to first degree. The pain was still intense in his new body, but his mind had already discarded such useless sensations, as always.
He could smell his mother and sister nearby, diligently preparing bandages and cleaning. Gaemon really hoped they had followed his suggestion, the one he gave to almost everyone involved in healing. That they should wash their hands and equipment thoroughly in hot water.
My healing is really weakened, Gaemon thought, as he sent his mind through the new bond he could now feel.
He reached the end of the mental thread and sensed the heat of the great beast lying there.
'Balerion,' he called out.
The heat vanished, and the background around Gaemon blurred. The surroundings reshaped themselves into two islands. One was clearly Dragonstone. The other had a manor that looked remarkably like the X-Mansion, surrounded by deep forests.
Gaemon understood at once. The islands represented their minds. He sensed Balerion flying from his own island toward Gaemon's.
'Gaemon,' Balerion hissed. 'Or Logan. Or Wolverine. What is it now, my bonded? I understood you were an old soul, but your memories—or how much you have not forgotten—truly surprised me.'
Gaemon grimaced, recalling the many gaps in his memory over the centuries.
'You can call me Gaemon. Logan is the dominant part of me now, but I understand from bonding with you that I have retained parts of the original soul of this body, Gaemon. After all, Logan could never bond with animals, let alone dragons. Let me honor his sacrifice, at least, by taking his name.'
'I understand more than you realize,' Balerion replied. 'Every rider I have had leaves something behind and is influenced in turn. If the rider is exceptionally strong, or the first, the influence is great. Look at the blue dragon. Her rider's hatred for Maegor and myself has seeped into her so much that she attacked you the moment she sensed a potential bond between us, all those years ago.'
Gaemon simply nodded.
'How are your wounds? Are they healing?'
'Yes, Gaemon. They are healing far faster and more cleanly than would have been possible without you. I have been consuming massive amounts of meat to fuel my regeneration.' Balerion replied.
Gaemon saw Balerion look away, his mind momentarily distant.
'Be warned, my bonded,' Balerion hissed at last. 'Your sire and nestmates are here.'
Gaemon's eyes widened slightly, then relaxed.
'So, Father and my brothers are back from their war against the Dornish. Good,' Gaemon replied. 'Are you ready if it comes to a fight?'
Balerion snorted.
'Do not worry, my bonded. There will be no fighting. Your sire may seem ignorant of the dragons' suffering and chains, but it was my will that made the others accept them. I took them on willingly, all those years ago, as punishment for the fate of my sweet Aerea. Your sire only used the situation to his advantage—and that of your family. Now that I am free of the chains, the others will be freed as well.'
Gaemon looked surprised. He had never considered why the dragons had not simply broken the chains themselves. They were intelligent and powerful enough to do it.
'That explains so many things.' Gaemon finally said.
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Baelon entered the room and saw Gaemon lying on the bed. His mother and sister Alyssa were changing the bandages. Even the presence of the king was ignored by the queen. Baelon was surprised that the king didn't interrupt and just watched the cleaning.
Baelon almost lost his lunch seeing the ugly wounds and burns, which in no way looked like they were only five days old. He felt rage and helplessness seeing his younger brother like this. Even though Baelon and Aemon had drifted further from Gaemon because of the age difference and their own busy schedules in the ruling of the realm, they still loved him.
The king watched his third son being cared for by his wife and remained silent. There was a solemn silence in the room, and unfortunately, Alyssa's hand slipped and struck one of the wounds with force.
"Fuck," a harsh growl came from Gaemon as he batted away the hands working on his body.
Baelon and Aemon looked at each other and grinned hearing his brother cursing at such a young age.
Baelon saw Gaemon open his eyes and look around the room, finally meeting all their gazes without any trace of fear. There was a barely restrained, orderly look in his brother's eyes, as if it were a chore to continue playing the part of a obedient son.
"Gaemon, I know you're in pain, but it's still not the time to curse your sister and mother. We've been taking care of you diligently for the last five days," Alysanne snapped, her exhaustion clear in her voice.
Gaemon looked at his mother and simply shrugged in response. He wisely didn't argue back and instead looked at his father and brothers.
"You are here, brothers. Gaemon said while looking at both of his brothers. "That means the Dornish idiocy is over, and you've won."
Congratulations for ending the threat early," Gaemon finished while looking at his father.
Baelon paled in worry at the clear disrespect toward their father.
"Gaemon, and congratulations to you for successfully healing Balerion and bonding with him," the king said, surprising everyone.
Gaemon had a shrewd look on his face but didn't respond with insult, to the relief of everyone else in the room.
"I'm surprised to see you here, my king, without your chief lickspittle, the Septon, whispering in your ears about dragon affairs and how I violated many of the rules, including stealing your sword. In fact, I can't remember a meeting with you without the Hand present," Gaemon said with no visible emotion, only cold observation.
The king nodded. "Yes, Barth is our chief lickspittle, and I used him to maintain peace between the Faith and the Crown," the king said with surprising derision. "But this is a meeting for our blood only, and I must have a frank talk with you. Only Targaryen ears are worthy of what we're going to discuss."
"Jaehaerys," Alysanne snapped. "What are you talking about? Barth may be overbearing at times, but he has been our dear and loyal friend for over two decades."
Jaehaerys scoffed. "Don't be a fool, dear sister. We have no friends, only servants, and I measure them by how much utility I can extract. I used Barth to convince the Faith they had a voice in the Crown and to placate them. Now, after two decades have passed, and many of the lords who remembered Maegor are dead, all that remains is King Jaehaerys the Wise, the Conciliator, the Defender of the Faith. The Faith has been praising us for years now and henceforth couldn't change their stance without it affecting their own standing among the smallfolks. Barth has long outlived his use. It's time I give my dear friend a well-earned rest in the Starry Sept among the faithful. My sons have grown. Infact Aemon, I want you to become the new Hand of the King. This is your reward for doing the most in killing the Dornish."
Gaemon remained silent with a glint in his eyes. Alysanne looked as if she had been struck, as if seeing Jaehaerys for the first time in her life.
"I'll be glad to serve you, my king," Aemon said with a bow of his head. Baelon congratulated his brother by slapping him on the back.
The king just nodded. "No one is to speak about the Handship until I announce it. Now, for more important matters. Alysanne, tell me, have you seen with your own eyes our son Gaemon healing rapidly?"
Alysanne nodded. "Yes, brother. I have seen it. It was a miracle from the gods themselves."
Jaehaerys' eyes narrowed as he walked toward the bed. He saw Blackfyre standing near the table beside the bed and picked it up. The sword was caked with blood and grime, but Jaehaerys ignored that as he took it.
Surprisingly fast for everyone except Gaemon, the king slashed at Gaemon's hand with Blackfyre. Gaemon had already anticipated the move, and seeing it was an investigative slash, he didn't dodge or move away.
The sword made a slightly deep cut in his hand, while Alysanne screamed in surprise and threw the tray holding the bandages at her brother to protect Gaemon.
"What the fuck are you doing, Jaehaerys? Have you gone completely mad?" Alysanne snapped and continued cursing him.
Jaehaerys looked embarrassed for a second before shaking his head.
"No need to attack me, my queen. I just wanted to see with my own eyes. Gaemon here understood it perfectly. He could have moved away even from my surprise attack. Isn't that correct, my son?"
Gaemon grimaced but nodded. "Aye, I could have, Mother. Let the king satisfy his curiosity. I will always heal, after all."
"Enough of this," Jaehaerys said. "Now let's have our meeting near Balerion, so we can see all around us and no one can overhear us over the noise of the dragons."
Jaehaerys ordered this while sheathing Blackfyre at his hip and walking out of the room.
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The Hand of the King
Septon Barth had endured one of the worst weeks of his long career. Since the day Prince Gaemon was found inside the Dragonpit with Balerion, not even he—the Hand of the King—had been able to uncover what truly happened. The Queen had given strict orders to the Kingsguard that no information was to be shared with anyone, not even him.
Barth had once been relieved by Gaemon's survival all those years ago. But in the time since, the boy had grown into a constant source of frustration—for both himself and the royal family. The arguments, the intellect, the erratic behavior... it had all been mildly amusing at first. Then it turned dangerous.
Barth had worked long and hard to earn the trust of the King and Queen. He had even helped pass that abominable Doctrine permitting incest within House Targaryen, all to ensure the Faith retained its influence across Westeros. Yet, even with those concessions, his accomplishments were few. One of his rare victories had been persuading Queen Alysanne to grant lands in the North to the Night's Watch. He had hoped it would anger the Northmen enough to provoke rebellion, especially at a time when the realm had only two active dragonriders and infant heirs.
But perhaps Alysanne was too charming, or the Starks too cowardly. Either way, rebellion never came.
Barth really thought that would anger the northmen enough to rebel when there are only two dragonriders and only a little children as heirs, but maybe Alysanne was too charming or the Starks too cowardly. Barth knew he had underestimated the good king's intelligence after that incident where the king quietly took power back from the queen without almost anyone realizing it. The king had convinced the queen never to issue a unilateral order like the Gift ever again without discussing it with him first.
Barth had to admire the cleverness the king showed, making it seem as though it was all to support his dear wife in everything, and not because the previous decision had been foolish.
Ever since then, Barth had made no overt moves to promote the Faith. He had served loyally and faithfully. He decided that the next generation should be his focus. Why fight with the old when the young could be influenced so easily? Everything had been going well too, until Gaemon.
The prince had utterly rejected all gods and disappeared like a rat into the shadows whenever religion is mentioned. More than that, Barth still remembered the accusation Gaemon had thrown at the king:
"You married Aemon to Jocelyn, your own half-sister, ensuring that no other house could use her as a bargaining chip. You married Baelon to Alyssa to secure her dragon for our house. You've used my siblings, Maegelle and Vaegon, to infiltrate the Faith and the Citadel, the soft powers of the Seven Kingdom."
Barth had long thought that getting Maegelle to become a septa and a devout follower had been his victory. The idea that the king might have done the same to influence them back had never even crossed his mind until Prince Gaemon said it. He had thought hard and long about it, and for the life of him, he could not find an answer.
And now again, while the king and his princes prepared to defend the realm, the youngest prince was doing something dangerous. Barth had taken pleasure when Jaehaerys denied all his children permission to claim Balerion. Barth hated the wretched beast with a passion. It was the beast that had killed thousands of the faithful. It was the beast that had turned the Sept of Remembrance into a pile of ashes. It was the beast that broke the Faith of the Faithful.
He had visited the Dragonpit monthly under the pretense of writing his book, just to see how far the monster had declined toward death. The fact that he, a pious and faithful man, was forced to feel anger and hatred when the Mother taught love for all only made his rage burn hotter. And now, Gaemon had done something to Balerion, and the wretched beast might not even die of sickness. The fact that he could not even confirm the truth was beyond frustrating.
Barth had rejoiced at the end of the war and the return of the king, because he thought he could finally hear the full story. The Kingsguard whispering to the king during the procession and later holding a secret meeting had been outside of his knowledge. When the king gave him the honor of hosting the arrogant lords and managing the court, Barth cursed Gaemon once again.
Now, as he sat on the Iron Throne holding court and listening to the endless whining of some lords, he cursed himself for ever praying for Gaemon's recovery all those years ago.
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