The Dragon's Lair was dark and vast. With the raging fire at the entrance and the intense heat within, no one had been able to enter before.
The cave was filled with all sorts of bones, evidence of the dragon's astonishing appetite.
Most were sheep bones, a few came from ponies, and there were even some from shadowcats and unknown beasts.
Sheepstealer only ate sheep, but Cannibal back then had eaten the corpses of its own kind and even dragon eggs.
Rhaegar walked straight ahead, stepping over broken bones.
Sessa, Barristan, Brynden, and the others followed close behind. Ser Joffrey Arryn had been called away by Lord Jon, reason unknown.
Holding torches, Sessa and the others scanned their surroundings like eagles, protecting the Prince.
On the cave walls, Rhaegar saw crude murals depicting wildlings bringing gifts to worship the Fire Priestess and the Great Dragon. The wildlings offered gifts and food to the Priestess, who then ordered the dragon to breathe fire as a test of courage for their children.
"I see it!" Rhaegar cheered. The mountains were majestic, just as in his dream. The silver dragon should appear too.
After traveling thousands of miles and enduring bloody battles, his wish was finally realized today.
A massive black dragon skeleton slowly emerged before Rhaegar's eyes. One could imagine the majesty of this beast in its prime, soaring in the blue sky, dominating the firmament.
Only now, the hollow, sightless eye sockets had lost their glimmer.
I have found the mountains I dreamed of; when will the dragon fly? Rhaegar thought.
Among all dragons, Balerion was the largest, along with the two purple dragons of House Belaerys Rhaegar had seen in his dream. They were colossal, their bodies powerful enough to swallow a whole aurochs or mammoth in one bite.
Rhaegar believed environment and bloodline might influence a dragon's size. Later Targaryen dragons never surpassed the Black Dread, and dragons raised in the Dragonpit were generally smaller than wild ones.
However, in Valyria, towering spires stood for dragons to roost. Many Dragonlord families even let their dragons roam free on peaks or in abandoned castles, sounding horns only in times of war. House Belaerys even mastered fire magic, which, if applied to dragons, would undoubtedly be effective. As for the Black Dread, his size could only be attributed to extraordinary natural talent.
The skeleton before him, though not exceptionally huge, was certainly large enough to swallow a horse.
However, judging by its current size, this should have been Sheepstealer's limit. Dragons continue to grow until death, at which point they become sluggish, heavy, and lethargic.
Beside the dragon skeleton lay a small female skeleton—the remains of Nettles.
"There's something else beside the woman's body!" Ser Brynden exclaimed.
Rhaegar and the others walked over. The woman's skeleton seemed to have been coated with an oily substance by the mountain clans to prevent it from falling apart.
Beside the remains, the finger bones of her right hand tightly clutched the corner of a black and red sleeve covered in writing.
The sleeve belonged to a man, bearing the faint image of a red dragon on black—the sigil of House Targaryen.
This was left by Prince Daemon.
Ser Brynden brushed away the dust, and the writing was still faintly visible. But he dared not read it closely, handing the cloth to the Prince. By seniority, Prince Daemon was Prince Rhaegar's direct ancestor.
Rumors about Nettles and Prince Daemon had changed the course of the war back then, leading to the loss of two dragonriders for the Blacks and accelerating Queen Rhaenyra's downfall. Later, people romanticized this affair, saying Prince Daemon and Nettles lived in seclusion in the Mountains of the Moon.
But for the royal family, the story of Daemon and Nettles was too bitter and shameful. Prince Daemon had betrayed his lawful wife for a baseborn bastard. Nettles was a whore's daughter, ugly and coarse. One was high above, the other humble as dust.
Rhaegar picked up the black and red sleeve.
"I was once high above, loving too fiercely, hating too madly. I arrogantly loved every rose, only to fall to the bottom. In the end, I love you." Rhaegar read these words silently. Prince Daemon truly lived up to his reputation as a "Rogue Prince." He was promiscuous, yet often cared about inexplicable things.
Almost all current Targaryens descended from Prince Daemon. For Rhaegar, he was indeed a true ancestor.
Prince Daemon had many women in his life. In Targaryen tradition, he was both a great man and a demon. Charismatic yet cruel, and passionately fiery. He had possessed many women: the Lady of House Royce in the Vale, Mysaria, Laena Velaryon, Queen Rhaenyra, and finally the shepherd girl Nettles.
Thinking of this, Rhaegar felt this last pair might have been the most fitting. Both were unconstrained and independent. Pity he was born at the wrong time; Daemon wasn't just a prodigal son, but the Commander of the City Watch, a Targaryen Prince, and father to two princes with the Queen. Even if he survived, he couldn't face the emotionally unstable Queen.
At Maidenpool, Prince Daemon had sent Nettles away on her dragon. They spoke no words; he went alone to Harrenhal to await Aemond. From then on, they were separated, the lovers worlds apart.
Before the Battle of the Gods Eye, Rhaegar guessed Daemon no longer wanted to live, having had enough of his wife Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra was cruel, irascible, and ruthless. Daemon perhaps couldn't bear his wife's madness; he had put her on the throne, only to bring more violence, bloodshed, and fanaticism to the realm.
Rhaegar quietly put away the sleeve. Where is the dragon egg?
He and the others began searching near the dragon bones.
Finally, as the torchlight in the cave dimmed, beneath Nettles' skeleton, Rhaegar found a glint of silver. They dug and eventually unearthed a Silver Dragon Egg.
The dragon egg was silver, symbolizing mystery and nobility, dotted with vibrant golden ripples and swirls. As the angle changed under the dim torchlight, the egg shimmered with a metallic luster as Rhaegar's fingers brushed it.
Rhaegar picked up the silver dragon egg; fortunately, it had not fossilized.
A dragon egg was priceless, especially one that hadn't turned to stone.
It looked like a luxurious artifact, like fine porcelain, glazed pottery, or glass, but much heavier. And as an artifact, a dragon egg was the most expensive of all. Rubies, diamonds, and crystals were just stones, but a dragon egg was far nobler.
A single live dragon egg could easily buy a small army.
"Prince Daemon gave Nettles a dragon egg too?" Everyone was shocked.
"Yes, according to Targaryen tradition, a dragon egg can be placed in the cradle of every newborn," Rhaegar said, toying with the egg. A dragon egg symbolized royal power.
Many things Rhaegar left unsaid were actually his own conjectures.
There was precedent for Prince Daemon gifting a dragon egg. When his mistress Mysaria became pregnant, he gave her an egg, which was later retrieved by his brother King Viserys. Mysaria miscarried on her way back to Lys, further fueling the discord between the brothers.
Nettles likely wasn't pregnant; Prince Daemon used this egg to symbolize love. Daemon had once stolen an egg for power; now he had the ability to give one to the person he loved.
Rhaegar gazed at the remains of Sheepstealer and Nettles. The dragon bones and the egg would be taken, but Nettles would be buried here. It was better for her to rest here.
However, with the dragonbone and the silver dragon egg, this adventure was worth it.
Rhaegar examined the dragon egg carefully; it seemed still alive, full of vitality.
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