90 AC. Driftmark
The morning sun was just beginning to rise over the eastern horizon, painting the soft pre-dawn clouds in shades of mother-of-pearl and pink. A fresh, cool sea breeze blew over Driftmark, carrying the rhythmic crash of heavy waves beating against the foot of the rocky shore to the highest towers of High Tide castle. In the spacious, softly lit chambers of Princess Viserra, a morning anticipation reigned, marred only by ceaseless crying.
Little Daemon had been crying for hours. His tiny face was flushed red with effort, and his small fists were clenched tightly against his chest. Viserra, dressed in a light gown of soft silk, paced slowly from one corner of the room to the other, gently pressing her firstborn to her breast and quietly whispering soothing words to him. She kissed his forehead, rocked him in her arms, and tried to lull him to sleep, but the infant seemed not to react at all to his mother's efforts, continuing to express his discontent loudly and demanding for the whole castle to hear.
Gathered around the white-wood cradle was nearly all the female company of the castle. Queen Alysanne sat in a deep armchair with a high carved back, watching her daughter with genuine maternal concern. Beside her sat Lady Alice, Corlys's mother, whose dark eyes shone with a soft, understanding light. Present as well were Princess Rhaenys, watching the young mother's every movement intently, Corlys's sisters-in-law - Elise and Thea - and little Princess Gael.
Gael stood a little apart, leaning against the wall, wrinkling her neat little nose. The girl shifted reluctantly from foot to foot, repeatedly covering her ears with her palms whenever her nephew's cries grew especially piercing.
"He's too loud," Gael finally pouted, looking first at the crying infant and then at her mother with genuine childish indignation. "My head is already starting to ache from all this noise! Why can't he just sit quietly for even a few minutes?"
Queen Alysanne merely smiled softly upon hearing her youngest daughter's words and gently patted Gael on the velvet sleeve of her gown, urging her to be patient.
"All little children cry, my sweet," Queen Alysanne said in a soft, soothing tone, turning her wise gaze upon her daughter. "When babies are first born, crying is the only way they have to tell adults that they are hungry, tired, or simply need a little more attention. There is nothing unusual about it."
"But that's completely silly!" Gael persisted, tossing her head so that her silver locks tumbled over her shoulders. "He's already being held and patted - why keep screaming for the whole castle to hear?"
Alysanne shook her head with a warm, nostalgic smile, looking at her daughter's stubbornness, in which the Targaryen family trait showed through so brightly at times.
"You would be surprised, Gael, but you yourself burst into just as loud a cry practically all the time until you turned two full years old," the queen replied with a light chuckle, recalling days gone by. "The maidservants and wet nurses didn't know where to hide from your tantrums, and I myself spent many sleepless nights by your cradle, trying to soothe my little princess."
Viserra, pausing in the middle of the room and trying once more to shift her still-screaming son to her other shoulder, sighed wearisomely as she listened to her mother and sister's conversation. Deep exhaustion was written across her face, pale after a difficult labor, and faint dark circles shadowed her eyes. Not even Corlys's potions could save her from sleeplessness caused by her son's crying.
"I truly hope that Daemon will become at least a little calmer as time goes on," Viserra said, a quiet plea in her voice, as she adjusted the edge of the soft blanket wrapping the babe. "If he keeps crying with such strength every day, I simply won't have any strength left, and every maid in High Tide will lose her mind to his voice."
Lady Alice, who until now had been silently watching the good-daughter's unsuccessful attempts to soothe her firstborn, rose from her chair with an indulgent smile. Her movements were fluid and filled with that special serenity belonging only to women who have raised several children.
"Sweet Viserra, let me hold my grandson," Lady Alice requested softly, extending her arms to the princess. "You gave him all your strength during labor, you need to rest a little and calm down yourself, for children sense their mother's anxiety so well."
With palpable relief, though accompanied by a touch of maternal hesitation, Viserra carefully handed little Daemon into the good-mother's hands, making sure the babe's head was properly supported.
"I truly don't understand why he cries so much," Viserra admitted with dismay in her voice, wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead with a slender palm. "I fed him only a short while ago, the maids just changed his swaddling for dry, fresh linen, and yet Daemon won't stop - he's crying even harder than before."
Lady Alice merely smiled warmly in response to Viserra's words and gently cradled her crying grandson against her chest. She did not fuss or make any sharp movements. Instead, she began to sway softly and rhythmically from side to side, her whole body moving with smooth grace. At the same time, Lady Alice softly began to hum wordlessly - an ancient, simple Valyrian melody that mothers of House Velaryon had sung to their children for generations.
Only a couple of minutes passed before a true miracle occurred. Daemon's piercing cries began to fade. The infant took a few shuddering breaths, whimpered softly once or twice, and then his tiny eyes began to flutter shut beneath his grandmother's steady, lulling humming. All tension melted from his tiny body. Little Daemon gave a sweet yawn, nuzzled his nose into the soft fabric of Lady Alice's dress, and finally drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.
After waiting a little longer to ensure her grandson was sound asleep, Lady Alice stepped silently toward the cradle. Incredibly smooth and careful, she laid Daemon down upon the soft feather mattress, thoughtfully covered him with a light blanket of pure cotton, and stepped back a few paces, never taking her admiring gaze off the child.
Viserra stood in the middle of the room with her mouth literally agape in astonishment. She shifted a shocked gaze from her quietly sleeping son in the cradle to Lady Alice, utterly unable to comprehend how she had achieved such a result in mere minutes.
"How... how did you do that?" Viserra whispered in complete bewilderment, terrified of speaking a word too loudly and waking the little troublemaker again. "I struggled with him for over an hour, tried absolutely everything, and with you he fell asleep in mere moments!"
Lady Alice gave a soft, gentle chuckle, looking at the young mother with genuine warmth and placing a hand on her shoulder.
"In time, you will easily understand what best soothes your son yourself, Viserra," Lady Alice explained with soft encouragement, gently guiding her good-daughter a little farther from the cradle. "Every child has their own special character and habits from their very first day of life. You simply need time to learn to sense him as well as you sense yourself."
"I truly hope so," Viserra sighed quietly, responding with a grateful look. "At times it seems to me that being a mother is far more difficult than controlling the most unruly dragon."
Lady Alice cast another long look toward the cradle and said with a touch of pensiveness:
"Though little Daemon looks strikingly like Corlys - the same fair hair, the same features - he has, alas, inherited none of his father's infant tranquility."
Viserra raised her brows in surprise, looking at Lady Alice with interest.
"Was my husband really a quiet child?" Viserra asked, a note of doubt in her voice, knowing full well Corlys's untamable and ever-restless nature. "It seems to me he cannot sit still for even a minute even now, forever immersed in his endless blueprints, ships, and affairs of state. It is hard to picture him as a quiet babe."
Light notes of melancholy and nostalgia for long-gone days, when her family was whole and happy, rang clearly in Lady Alice's voice.
"Oh yes, Corlys was entirely different from his very first day," Lady Alice said softly, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. "Unlike his younger brothers, Daeron and Veylor, who turned the whole castle upside down from their earliest years, Corlys remained remarkably calm and quiet. He was wonderfully easy to raise - he hardly ever cried without a good reason and could spend hours studying model ships or charts. And once his younger brothers were born, Corlys became even more serious. He was only three years old then, can you imagine? Yet with such touching, grown-up gravity he cared for Daeron and Veylor, constantly watching over them, making sure they didn't fall down the steps, and sharing his toys."
Princess Rhaenys, who had been sitting quietly on the edge of a soft couch listening to Lady Alice's reminiscences, could not help a light laugh and smiled slyly.
"Ah, and here I was actually hoping to hear some amusing or scandalous details about Corlys's early childhood," Rhaenys teased with feigned disappointment, shaking her head. "And it turns out he was always that same impossibly serious, proper Corlys, even when he had only just learned to walk!"
Lady Alice met Rhaenys's joke with only a soft, faint smile that held a subtle trace of sorrow.
"At times that unchildlike gravity of his truly frightened me," Lady Alice continued, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly for a moment. "But it was precisely his seriousness, his backbone, and how impossibly fast he had to grow up after the sudden death of my dear husband Corwyn... those very qualities are what made Corlys into the man he is today."
A deep, respectful silence fell over the spacious room. None of the women present dared to pursue the topic or ask further questions. All saw clearly and understood how difficult and painful it still was for Lady Alice to speak of her husband's demise and plunge back into those soul-wounding memories.
Queen Alysanne grew visibly somber as well, her bright eyes clouding with grief. The terrible Summer Fever, known among the smallfolk as the Shivers, which had raged in 75 AC, had taken not only Lady Alice's husband. In that same cursed year, the awful sickness had claimed Alysanne's firstborn daughter - her deeply beloved Daenerys. That memory still resonated as a deep, unhealing wound in the queen's maternal heart.
Viserra, sensitively picking up on how Lady Alice and her own mother had simultaneously sunk into heavy memories of the darkest and most bitter chapters of their lives, resolved to break the tension immediately. She did not want this bright day to turn into a day of mourning.
"On such a bright and joyous day, we certainly ought not to cloud our thoughts with ill memories of the past," Viserra said in a soft yet firm tone, drawing the attention of all present. Locking the heavy thoughts away in the depths of her soul, the princess turned to her younger sister and added with a warm smile, "Gael, now that little Daemon has finally calmed down and is sleeping soundly in his cradle, why don't you come over and get a closer look at him?"
Sensing the heavy tension in the room ease, Gael took a few slow steps forward with undisguised curiosity. The girl approached the carved cradle carefully and peered inside, rising on tiptoe to reach the very edge. Viserra stepped silently right behind her, resting her hands on her sister's shoulders and watching her reaction with a smile.
Gael examined her sleeping nephew intently and with utmost seriousness from head to toe, tilting her head slightly.
"He's... very small," Gael concluded with quiet wonder, wrinkling her nose. "And still somehow much too red."
Viserra could not hold back a soft, genuine smile and lightly squeezed her sister's thin shoulders.
"All babies are born small, Gael," Viserra explained lovingly, stroking her sister's back. "But believe me, it won't be long before Daemon grows up, and then you will be able to play with him in the castle gardens to your heart's content."
The idea of playing with her grown nephew clearly appealed to the ten-year-old princess. Gael's eyes instantly brightened with joyful luster, and every trace of her former dissatisfaction vanished from her face.
"Truly?" Gael asked with enthusiasm, turning back to her sister. "Then I shall definitely teach him plenty of the most exciting games! We will run all over the garden and hide in the high towers!"
Her sister's words brought an even brighter, more radiant smile to Viserra's face. The princess affectionately stroked Gael's soft, silky hair, glad that the somber atmosphere had fully dissipated, giving way to domestic warmth and familial comfort.
90 AC. King's Landing
At that very same hour, hundreds of leagues away from Driftmark, in the heart of Westeros - King's Landing - life flowed at a completely different pace. In the spacious Small Council chamber, located within the massive tower of the Red Keep, an important state session was underway. Sunbeams filtering through high lancet windows illuminated the polished surface of the massive oak table, around which sat the rulers of the realm.
At the head of the table sat King Jaehaerys Targaryen himself - a seasoned monarch whose face radiated profound composure and absolute authority. On his right hand sat his lawful heir, Prince Aemon Targaryen, serving as Master of Laws. Beside him was the Hand of the King - the wise and prudent Septon Barth, whose vast knowledge had saved the realm from internal turmoil time and again. Also present at the table were Martyn Tyrell, serving as Master of Coin; Grand Maester Elysar, with his long chain of varied metals draped around his neck; Lord Gilbert Rosby, serving as Master of Whisperers; and Corlys's brother, Daeron Velaryon, who sat on the council in his elder brother's stead, temporarily fulfilling the duties of Master of Ships.
The council was discussing key urban reforms. The primary issue on the agenda remained the plight of the city's poor and the state of the capital.
"The poor of Flea Bottom are turning out in great numbers and with eager willingness for public works to clean the cesspools and city ditches," Septon Barth reported, checking his parchment notes. "The copper paid for this work attracts many, significantly reducing crime rates and steadily improving the overall cleanliness of the streets."
King Jaehaerys nodded approvingly before turning his keen gaze upon Daeron Velaryon.
"Tell us, Daeron, at what stage is the preparation of House Velaryon's engineers in planning the construction of a proper city sewer system?" the king asked with genuine interest, lacing his fingers together upon the table.
Daeron Velaryon drew himself up and answered the monarch in an even, confident tone:
"The engineers will soon finish all necessary measurements and the complete survey of the city's terrain, Your Grace. By their estimates, within two months they will be fully prepared to present the final blueprints and begin large-scale work. As for the financial cost, the preliminary budget estimate for the project should not change significantly."
King Jaehaerys was genuinely pleased with the report and smiled faintly.
"Excellent timeline and a professional approach, Daeron," the king praised him. "The problem of clean water and sewage in King's Landing has long demanded a sweeping solution."
With that, Prince Aemon moved on to the next, far more complex issue on the day's agenda. The heir to the throne picked up a document from a stack of parchments and addressed the king:
"Father, the Blackwoods and Brackens have reignited their fierce dispute over the precise boundary of their adjoining lands," Prince Aemon said, annoyance in his voice. "Yet instead of directing their petitions and claims to the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, as the law and long-established order require, they have sent a written complaint directly to the Crown."
King Jaehaerys instantly frowned, his stern brows knitting together.
"Such flagrant disregard for their own Lord Paramount is a terrible and dangerous precedent for the entire realm," the king said sternly, raising his voice. "If every lord begins ignoring his liege lord and running directly to the Crown for protection, the whole system of authority in the Riverlands will crumble. We must make it abundantly clear to them..."
The king did not finish his thought, as the heavy oak doors of the Small Council chamber opened quietly. An acolyte of Grand Maester Elysar entered the room cautiously, holding two sealed letters in his hands. The assistant looked agitated and bowed deeply to those present.
"Pardon the unannounced intrusion, Your Grace, my lords," the youth said respectfully, stepping forward. "The Grand Maester ordered me to bring any letter immediately should it arrive by raven from Driftmark."
With those words, the assistant bowed and handed both messages to Grand Maester Elysar.
"My thanks. You are dismissed," King Jaehaerys said calmly, waving the youth away with a gesture.
Grand Maester Elysar examined both seals on the parchments carefully. One letter, bound with crimson wax bearing the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, he handed to the king with a bow.
"This letter is from Queen Alysanne, Your Grace," Elysar spoke. Then the maester shifted his gaze to the second message, stamped with the seal of the seahorse, and held it out to Daeron. "And this letter is addressed to you, my lord Daeron. I venture to guess it is from your brother Corlys."
Without delay, King Jaehaerys broke the wax seal and unrolled the parchment, his eyes scanning the lines written in his wife's neat and familiar hand. Daeron was no slower than the king, breaking open his letter, he immersed himself in reading news from his home island.
A few moments later, King Jaehaerys's face brightened, his sternness giving way completely to a genuine, warm smile. The king looked up from the letter and turned to Prince Aemon and Daeron, raising his voice:
"Well, my lords! It seems that today we can forget the disputes of Blackwoods and Brackens for a time. My congratulations to you both - you have become uncles!"
Daeron Velaryon broke into a broad, joyful grin and bowed his head to the monarch:
"My thanks, Your Grace!"
Prince Aemon asked his father with earnest excitement:
"A boy or a girl, Father? And how is my sister faring after the labor? Did all go well?"
King Jaehaerys looked at his son and answered in a measured tone:
"Your sister's intuition proved true, Aemon. She has birthed a strong and healthy boy, whom they have named Daemon. According to Alysanne, Viserra herself is doing well, and praise the Seven, there were no complications after the birth."
Prince Aemon breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head with a smile:
"I am overjoyed by such wonderful news! Viserra deserves this happiness."
Daeron, re-reading his own letter from his elder brother, added with a soft chuckle, turning to Prince Aemon:
"My brother writes that since I stole a march on him and named my own son Corwyn after our late father, Corlys decided to name his firstborn Daemon - after our grandfather."
Prince Aemon quipped back merrily, giving Daeron a subtle wink:
"Daemon is an excellent and truly strong name - who should know better than Baelon and I? I only hope this new nephew of mine proves rather less impulsive and more shrewd compared to my other nephew Daemon."
Daeron countered the prince's jab playfully, shaking his head with quiet laughter:
"Oh, I doubt it, Prince Aemon! Something tells me that as soon as little Daemon is steady on his feet, he, Corwyn, and Aurane will give their nurses and servants endless grief with their shared mischief all over the castle!"
All the other members of the Small Council joined in the royal family's joy with heartfelt enthusiasm, warmly congratulating the king on the birth of another healthy grandson.
"Thank you all for your warm words, my lords," King Jaehaerys said with dignity, raising his hand to call the council to order. Looking around at the gathering, he added, "Well, the rest of state affairs can certainly wait. We have nearly concluded all the most urgent and pressing matters for today."
The king then addressed the members of the Small Council:
"Tomorrow, my family and I set sail for High Tide to meet my newborn grandson in person and congratulate House Velaryon on the birth of an heir. During my absence, I leave the members of the council to govern the realm until my return. I am certain you will discharge your duties admirably."
All council members straightened up and unanimously assured the monarch:
"We shall not fail you, Your Grace! You may rest completely assured of order in the capital and the realm."
The king turned to Daeron Velaryon:
"Daeron, make ready a ship for tomorrow morning. We set sail for Driftmark."
"I shall see to it personally, Your Grace. The ship will be fully prepared," Daeron sayed briskly.
The king then shifted his gaze to his heir:
"Aemon, you will prepare an escort of guardsmen and the Kingsguard for our protection."
"It shall be done without flaw, Father," Prince Aemon confirmed.
King Jaehaerys smiled and stood from his chair:
"Very well, my lords. I declare this meeting of the Small Council adjourned for today. You may return to your daily affairs."
90 AC. Driftmark
Meanwhile at High Tide, the celebration was already entering its most vibrant and festive phase. Gathered in the castle's grand dining hall, whose high stone walls were adorned with sumptuous tapestries depicting seahorses, dragons, and majestic ships, was the whole family. Sitting at the sumptuously laden oak table were Corlys, Viserra, Lady Alice, Veylor, Elise, Thea, Queen Alysanne, Princess Rhaenys, and little Gael.
At this hour, little Daemon slept peacefully and sweetly in Corlys's chambers, where experienced wet nurses and maidservants kept watchful, vigilant guard over him, ready to tend to his every need.
The family feast among those nearest and dearest was in full swing. An extraordinarily harmonious, warm, and joyous atmosphere filled the hall. Guests laughed, traded jokes, and heartily devoured all manner of exquisite dishes that the castle's cooks and servants had labored tirelessly to prepare since early dawn. Platter after platter lined the table - roast suckling pigs, stuffed fish, fresh seafood, and fragrant fruits.
Little Gael was happily devouring pizza - fluffy, piping hot, loaded with juicy toppings and melted cheese - a dish she had adored ever since Corlys and Viserra's lavish wedding. The girl looked utterly content, constantly asking the servants for another slice.
When everyone present had finally eaten their fill, and the adults had raised their goblets to cheerful toasts, drinking good wine to the health and long life of the newborn heir of Driftmark, the heavy doors of the dining hall opened softly. Maidservants entered carefully, cradling little Daemon in their arms.
"Princess Viserra, Lord Corlys, your son is awake," the head maidservant announced with a bow.
Viserra rose from her seat, gently took her son into her arms, and pressed him tenderly to herself, kissing the babe on his tiny, smooth forehead. The infant blinked his violet eyes, taking in the hall's bright light.
Veylor Velaryon, catching sight of his nephew, called out joyfully across the hall:
"Ah, and here is the guest of honor himself, finally deigning to join the table!"
Veylor approached Viserra with keen interest and began examining his little nephew with a smile. With good-natured laughter, the man extended his index finger toward the babe. Little Daemon, spotting the movement in front of him, reflexively curled his tiny fingers and gripped his uncle's finger with surprising strength.
Veylor delighted in this immensely. He let out an honest laugh and wiggled his finger, marveling at the infant's strength.
"Just look at him!" Veylor declared enthusiastically to everyone present. "My nephew has an iron grip - a true knight's grasp! I guarantee you, in the future I shall personally forge him into the fiercest, most fearless warrior in all the Seven Kingdoms!"
Viserra was genuinely pleased that her husband's brother had welcomed her firstborn so warmly, sincerely, and affectionately. Shaking her silver-haired head, however, she dampened her relative's zeal with a soft but firm maternal smile:
"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Veylor, but mark my words: until Daemon grows up properly, no one is going anywhere near my son with a sword."
Veylor instantly took a step back, raising both hands in comical terror as a sign of total surrender.
"I surrender, I surrender, Princess!" Veylor said with mock submission, drawing laughter from those at the table. "I only wished to pass down all my rich martial wisdom and experience to my nephew!"
Viserra shook her head with a smile and answered:
"Once Daemon grows up, we will sit down and discuss in detail who will teach him the art of war. But until then, we have other, far more important matters. Today, I am going to introduce my son to my dragon."
Little Gael, hearing those words, leapt up from her chair in an instant, nearly knocking over her cup of juice, and ran over to her sister.
"I want to visit Dreamfyre too! Take me with you!" Gael pleaded, tugging at Viserra's sleeve.
Viserra winked merrily at her younger sister and replied:
"I am certain, Gael, that Dreamfyre will be thrilled to see you."
At these words, the ten-year-old princess lit up with an even brighter joy. Queen Alysanne, Rhaenys, Lady Alice, and the rest of the family also rose from the table, deciding to follow Viserra to witness with their own eyes the babe's first encounter with Dreamfyre.
When the whole family stepped outside the castle onto the spacious, stone-paved inner courtyard of High Tide, a most curious sight met their eyes. Right in the center of the yard, all ten Dragonkeepers had assembled, clad in their traditional scaled armor and long cloaks. They had surrounded the magnificent Dreamfyre and were cautiously offering the dragoness the carcass of a freshly slaughtered ram. Yet the ancient creature completely ignored the offered meat. The dragoness sat upon the stones with her tail tucked beneath her, paying no heed to the attendants, as if shielding something with her massive wings.
Queen Alysanne stepped forward, instinctively shielding her daughter and the babe in her arms, and demanded sternly of the Dragonkeepers:
"What is the meaning of this? Why have you surrounded the dragon, and what is happening here?"
The senior Dragonkeeper turned to the queen with a low bow and answered:
"Your Grace, we were merely attempting to feed Dreamfyre fresh meat, as was commanded. But she refuses all food, acts exceedingly restless, and is constantly hiding something beneath her right wing, allowing no one near."
Without a second's hesitation, Viserra stepped boldly forward. She calmly walked past the baffled Dragonkeepers and approached Dreamfyre quite closely. Her voice sounded soothing and melodious:
"My girl... look at me. I have come to you. And look whom I've brought to meet you."
Hearing the familiar, beloved voice of her rider, Dreamfyre instantly turned her massive, scaled head. A soft, high trill of pure joy escaped her jaws. The dragoness lowered her giant head and gently nuzzled her snout against Viserra's shoulder, nearly knocking the princess off her feet.
Viserra caressed the dragon's blue scales warmly and whispered:
"I missed you so much too, my good girl."
Dreamfyre then lowered her gaze and froze, examining the tiny babe in Viserra's arms. The dragoness delicately brought her nostrils close to Daemon and sniffed him with a deep breath, after which she emitted a low, rumbling thrum - surprisingly reminiscent of genuine approval and acceptance of a new family member.
But in the next instant, a strange, quiet rustling and a faint squeak emerged from under Dreamfyre's folded right wing. The dragoness slowly lifted her massive wing.
Everyone present in the yard gasped in astonishment. Queen Alysanne pressed a hand to her lips and whispered in shock:
"Gods... It cannot be..."
Right on the dry grass at the feet of the giant dragoness sat a tiny, newly hatched hatchling of pure white color. He was endearingly sweet, his graceful body shape bearing a striking resemblance to Dreamfyre herself, and right now he was trying with all his might to look menacing. The little one comically spread his translucent wings and stretched his neck, attempting to appear as large and dangerous a predator as possible.
A few Dragonkeepers instinctively took a cautious step toward the hatchling, but the small white dragon immediately hissed at them, producing a high-pitched whistling sound.
Viserra commanded the attendants in an authoritative tone:
"Step back! Do not dare provoke or frighten him!"
The Dragonkeepers instantly obeyed and backed away. Hearing Viserra's ringing voice, the snow-white dragon snapped his head around and focused his gaze upon her. And when his eyes dropped to the babe cradled in the princess's arms, the little dragon ceased his hissing entirely. He took a few deep breaths, sniffing the sea air as if carefully studying the scents wafting about. The white hatchling slowly began crawling straight toward Viserra, awkwardly clawing at the ground.
Queen Alysanne, genuinely fearing for her daughter and newborn grandson's safety, called out warningly:
"Viserra! Be careful, do not let him close!"
But Viserra merely froze in place, making not a single sudden movement. The small white dragon crawled up to her feet and gently began climbing up her dress, clinging tightly to the heavy fabric with his small claws. A moment later, he successfully reached the top and perched comfortably right on Viserra's left shoulder.
The dragon turned his head and fixed a curious gaze on little Daemon. The infant, in turn, stared spellbound and unblinking straight at the magical winged creature. After a few seconds of silent stillness and mutual study, the hatchling sniffed once more, leaning close to Daemon's cheek, and then gently and trustingly rested his small scaled head upon the baby's stomach.
Daemon stirred and began awkwardly, yet very softly, stroking the dragon's smooth white scales with his tiny fingers.
Queen Alysanne, Lady Alice, Rhaenys, and all the other members of the family slowly stepped closer to Viserra in complete shock and mute astonishment, unable to believe their own eyes.
Corlys Velaryon stood slightly off to the side, hands clasped behind his back, observing the incredible scene. From his utterly calm, resolute face, it was impossible to discern what he was thinking at that moment. However, his mother, Lady Alice, watched her eldest son's expression intently. She knew Corlys far too well and understood completely that this "wondrous" arrival of the dragon was hardly without her firstborn's secret interference.
Queen Alysanne, unable to tear her stunned gaze from her grandson and the dragon perched upon her daughter's shoulder, spoke with wonder in her voice:
"It seems this dragon hatched on the very day of Daemon's birth... It is as if they were meant for one another by destiny itself. In all my life, I have never heard or seen anything like it!"
Viserra looked with tenderness at Dreamfyre, took a step closer, and, placing her palm against the dragon's warm snout, spoke in a quiet and sincere voice:
"Thank you, my girl... Thank you for such a precious and incredible gift for my son."
In this tense yet magical moment, Ser Ryam Redwyne, a seasoned knight standing guard nearby, quietly addressed Queen Alysanne:
"Your Grace, Princess, it would be best for us all to step back inside the castle right now and not tempt Dreamfyre with our continued presence. She needs time to rest."
Everyone present silently agreed with the knight's wise counsel. Viserra turned and made her way into the castle alongside the rest of her family, while the small, snow-white dragon continued to perch proudly and calmly upon her shoulder all the while, resting its head against her son.
Exactly three days later, a deafening, rolling roar resounded over Spicetown, shaking the glass in the windows of the houses. High in the sky above the island flew three majestic dragons - the massive Vermithor, the swift Caraxes, and the legendary, gigantic Vhagar. Their vast shadows glided swiftly across the sea surface and the rooftops of the castle.
On that very same day, a ship entered the harbor of Driftmark. Aboard were Daeron Velaryon, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon, and the young princes Viserys and Daemon. All those who had arrived and those welcoming them froze in the courtyard, waiting for King Jaehaerys himself and his sons Aemon and Baelon, who had chosen to fly to Driftmark atop their own dragons.
The three giant dragons banked in a few smooth circles over the island before landing one by one right in the spacious inner courtyard of High Tide castle. Powerful beats of their wings sent dust and pebbles flying in every direction. The riders dismounted cleanly from their high saddles and set foot upon the stone flagstones of the yard.
They were solemnly greeted by all the members of House Velaryon and the Targaryens present. Corlys stepped forward to welcome the guests. Servants immediately offered the king and princes the tokens of guest right - fresh bread and salt.
"Welcome to High Tide, Your Grace," Corlys said with genuine dignity, shaking hands with the king and princes. "Accept guest right. I invite you and your sons to rest in your designated chambers after your long flight, and after that may you visit little Daemon."
King Jaehaerys accepted the bread and salt, but in the next instant, his keen gaze to catch the faces of Queen Alysanne and Lady Jocelyn Baratheon. Written clearly across the faces of both women was a deep, palpable concern and hidden anxiety. This immediately troubled the seasoned monarch. He sensed that during those three days at High Tide, something extraordinary had transpired.
His wife, Queen Alysanne, took a few steps toward her husband, gently took his arm, and spoke in a quiet yet utterly grave tone:
"I shall escort you to our chambers myself, Jaehaerys... We have much to discuss in private."
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A/N
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