90 AC. Driftmark
The chambers assigned to the King and Queen at High Tide were distinguished by the very same luxury that infused the entire castle of the Sea Snake. Beyond the tall lancet windows lay a marvelous view of the town. King Jaehaerys paced slowly from corner to corner beside a heavy carved table bearing an untouched goblet of Driftmark wine. His silver hair, neatly styled and trimmed, trembled slightly in rhythm with his nervous, measured steps, while his golden crown seemed at this moment a heavy burden weighing down upon the monarch.
Stopping by the armchair in which Queen Alysanne was seated, Jaehaerys knit his thick brows and cast a heavy glance upon his wife - a look mixed with weariness and a sudden surge of irritation.
"Tell me, Alysanne, do you realize, even for a moment, the full weight and peril of what you speak so calmly about?" said the King, his usually deep and serene voice sounding with a distinct, almost severe dryness. "You talk of this as lightly as though it were just another betrothal contract or a new quarrel between Daemon and Viserys, rather than the future of our House."
Queen Alysanne unhurriedly set down the goblet she held in her hands and smoothed the folds of her velvet gown. In her calm and steadfast gaze, there was not a shadow of fear before her husband's wrath - over long years of marriage, she had learned to read Jaehaerys's thoughts long before they took shape in words.
"I understand and realize it all perfectly well, Jaehaerys," replied the Queen, looking directly into her husband's eyes with that quiet composure that had always distinguished her in the most difficult moments of their lives. "I realize every possible consequence of this day far better than you think."
"In that case, your composure frightens me even more!" Jaehaerys retorted sharply, gesturing forcefully. "It is one thing if our daughter Viserra has a dragon. She is a princess of the blood, a king's daughter, born and raised in the House of the Dragon. So long as she remains the rider of Dreamfyre, that dragon rests under our indirect protection and control. But it is an entirely different matter when her babe - her and Corlys's heir, who bears the name Velaryon from birth - claims a dragon of his own, personally bonded to him! No other family in Westeros besides House Targaryen should have their own dragonriders and dragon eggs. This is not merely a breach of tradition, Alysanne - it is a crack in the very foundation of our power!"
"I understand all of this perfectly well, brother," Alysanne spoke softly yet distinctly, her eyes following her husband's pacing with sad understanding. "I understand your fear for the throne and our legacy. But answer me one simple question: what precisely can we do right now, at this very moment? Daemon's dragon hatched on the exact day of his birth. It came into the world from his mother's dragon's egg. I have lived a long life, Jaehaerys, I have seen many births and riders, but I do not recall anything like this ever occurring in the history of our family with such undeniable, mystical precision."
"And what difference does it make whether such a thing has happened before or not?!" the King exclaimed angrily, his voice echoing dully off the high stone vaults of the ceiling. "What does it matter if it is a miracle or a curse?! Our main and most dangerous problem is that House Velaryon now has two dragons! Two dragonriders in a single castle not directly subject to King's Landing! And this is no mere abstract threat - it is a real force that Aemon will have to reckon with tomorrow!"
The King paused, breathing heavily, and then turned his gaze toward the window, where the silhouettes of seabirds slowly circled in the sky. His tone shifted, growing more curious.
"And how was Dreamfyre able to lay this egg at all?" Jaehaerys asked, turning back to his wife. "I personally issued the strictest commands to the Dragonkeepers in King's Landing and on Dragonstone. No males were permitted near her for years! Neither Vermithor, nor Caraxes, nor any other full-grown dragon has been anywhere near her for months. Where did this egg come from, Alysanne?"
The Queen shrugged slightly, a trace of weariness slipping into her gesture - weariness of the mysteries that had always shrouded their dragons' magic.
"I have no idea how it came to pass, Jaehaerys," Alysanne said with genuine vexation. "Dragons are not farm beasts to be locked in a pen with their habits calculated. Yet I can tell you what I learned yesterday. The Velaryons' maester did not leave the castle library for a full day and night after the hatching. He pored over all the ancient texts and books concerning dragons. And based on what he read, he claims that scholars and maesters have never fully understood the precise mechanism of egg-bearing in females. He says this case may well prove our assumptions wrong. Perhaps females do not strictly require a male to conceive an egg, and their nature is far more complex than we imagine. Or perhaps Dreamfyre, during her long flights over the sea, encountered the wild dragon Sheepstealer near Dragonstone, and none of our riders or guards simply knew how or when it happened."
Alysanne shook her head in dismay, her brow furrowed, and her tone grew more earnest as she continued:
"I have already discussed this matter in detail with Rhaenys," the Queen added, looking at her husband with hope. "She has a wise and measured solution that will allow us to step out of this impasse without unnecessary trouble."
"She is in no position to decide anything!" Jaehaerys cut her off, raising a commanding hand to nip his wife's words in the bud. "I will not listen to youthful fantasies! We cannot leave a dragon to the Velaryons, and that is the end of it. I am the King, and my word is law for every house from the Dornish Marches to the Wall."
Alysanne rose from her chair in dismay, her face turning pale at the thought of what catastrophe such blind obstinacy might bring.
"Think again, Jaehaerys!" the Queen exclaimed, desperate and warning notes creeping into her voice for the first time that evening. "By doing this, you will make matters infinitely worse! All the colossal effort we expended - the marriage and the favors spent to make the Velaryons our loyal allies - will be erased with a single decision! We will make a mortal enemy of Corlys with our own hands. And after him, our own grandson Daemon will be raised from infancy in hatred and unquenchable enmity toward the Crown and his mother's own House!"
She took a step toward her husband, searching his stern, granite-like face:
"You forget the most important thing, Jaehaerys," Alysanne continued, lowering her voice to a whisper heavy with anxiety. "Daemon is already bonded to this dragon. The spiritual thread between them was forged the very second the dragon acknowledged our grandson. If you dare to strip the babe of his dragon, you will not simply take it away - you will tear a piece out of Daemon's soul. For the rest of his life, he will feel a burning, poisonous void inside that nothing can ever fill, and he will never forgive you for this deed!"
Jaehaerys frowned, his chin jutting out stubbornly, ready to withstand whatever blow fate might deal.
"So be it!" the King declared firmly, drawing himself up. "I am strong enough to bear all the wrath and hatred of my grandson. I shall carry it to the end of my days, and after my death, that grievance will die with me."
"You nurse illusions, Jaehaerys," the Queen replied with a bitter, mournful smile. "Even after your death, Daemon will not cease to hate. He will go on hating every Targaryen without exception - Aemon, Baelon, Viserys, every single one of our descendants who carries our blood and sits the Iron Throne."
"You cannot know that for certain, Alysanne," the King muttered, though for the first time a faint shadow of doubt flickered in his voice. "Time heals all wounds, and royal favor knows how to erase childhood grievances."
"Daemon will hate every Targaryen until his dying breath, and I am as certain of that as I am that the sun will rise tomorrow!" the Queen declared loudly and with deep conviction, pressing her hand to his chest. "And I am certain of it, Jaehaerys, because were I in Daemon's place, I too would come to hate every single Targaryen if what was mine by birthright were stolen from me!"
The King walked heavily to the table, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at the Queen with grim pragmatism.
"Their resentment and childhood grudges mean nothing in high politics, Alysanne. Even if Corlys harbors malice, the Velaryons simply lack the military strength to harm us or throw down an open challenge to the Crown."
Alysanne shook her head in profound dismay, struck by how blind even the wisest ruler could be when blinded by pride.
"You make a grave mistake, Jaehaerys, in measuring danger solely by the number of swords and dragonriders," she said, her voice sounding like a warning of fate itself. "The Velaryons are the richest house in all of Westeros. Their coffers burst with gold, their merchant fleets command every sea route from Driftmark to Asshai. Even if they never openly rebel or raise their banners above Driftmark, they will systematically, day after day, undermine and weaken Targaryen rule through other, far more subtle means. They will choke off trade routes, bribe lords of the Small Council, pit the Great Houses of the realm against one another, and strangle our allies in debt - all while remaining formally loyal vassals. That is how they think."
She paused to let her words settle in the King's mind before continuing even more severely.
"Look at Corlys, Jaehaerys. Yes, he always shows genuine respect, he is impeccably courteous with our family, he bends the knee and bows as low as becomes a faithful lord. But we both know full well what he is capable of when it comes to the interests of his House, and how ruthless he can be. Remember those magisters from the Free Cities of Essos who three years ago tried to harm Velaryon trade and levied exorbitant duties on Driftmark ships. Every single one who refused to reach a peaceful agreement with Corlys was sent to the grave, one after another! Some died of strange, incurable ailments in their bedchambers, others were eliminated by their own competitors and political rivals amidst bloody intrigues. And afterward, those very same surviving magisters immediately signed the most lucrative deals with the Velaryons! One such occurrence is a coincidence, Jaehaerys. A second outcome like it is a lucky stroke. But a third and a fourth - that is an unmistakable pattern! It is a clear indicator of precisely how Corlys Velaryon settles his affairs when direct negotiations reach an impasse."
Alysanne took a step closer to her husband, looking into his tense face with unreserved candor:
"Corlys is a wolf in sheep's clothing, Jaehaerys. And in his hidden, all-consuming ruthlessness and pragmatism, he is shockingly, terrifyingly like you! Had you and I fathered such a son, you would consider him your ideal heir without hesitation. Moreover, our daughter Viserra will never thank you for such high-handed interference with her son's dragon. She will not stay her husband's hand if she realizes her firstborn has suffered because of your decisions."
The Queen paused, letting the full gravity of her words sink in, before asking her main, most chilling question:
"Tell me, Jaehaerys... what is to stop Corlys Velaryon from hiring the Faceless Men of Braavos to remove anyone he believes has mortally insulted his House and stripped his son of a dragon?"
Jaehaerys flinched as though struck by a whip, his face contorting with fury at the mere mention of those assassins.
"What you speak of is pure high treason!" the King declared loudly and menacingly. "For the mere thought of it, for the slightest hint of such a pact, I would strip the Velaryons of all their lands, castles, and titles without a second thought, and outlaw them all!"
"If he truly hires the Faceless Men and they accept the contract, Jaehaerys," the Queen replied softly yet crushingly, "you will no longer be alive to punish anyone."
"Then Aemon will!" the King countered sharply, clenching his teeth. "My heir and my son will avenge his father and force the traitors to pay with their lives!"
"No one will ever be able to prove who hired the killer," Alysanne countered with sad composure. "You have lived many years in this world, my husband, but have you ever heard of a single instance in history where a Faceless Man was caught and named his client? Have you heard of even one of them standing trial?"
Jaehaerys clearly disliked the turn this conversation had taken. He scowled even deeper, dark furrows etching his brow, while a heavy irritation flickered in his gaze:
"The Faceless Men would set such an exorbitant price for the life of a King of Westeros," he said grimly, searching for a flaw in his wife's logic, "that no lord in the Seven Kingdoms could pay it without utterly ruining his House."
The Queen sighed bitterly and looked at her husband with pity:
"You forget once again who you are dealing with, Jaehaerys. You and I have no idea how deep the Velaryons' coffers run or what treasures lie within the vaults of High Tide. We do not know what they can afford when it comes to the honor of their House and the protection of their children."
Jaehaerys fell silent for a long time, scanning the town beyond the window with a heavy gaze. His unyielding stance gradually lost its former rigidity, yielding to pragmatism. At last, with a heavy sigh, he passed his palm over his face and asked:
"And what, then, do you propose we do? What way out of this situation do you see?"
"Rhaenys has a ready and well-considered solution," the Queen answered without delay.
"On account of her close and blind friendship with Viserra," the King shook his head disapprovingly, "Rhaenys could never be firm, objective, or stern enough in her judgment. She will always look out for her friend's interests."
"Rhaenys's idea is by no means lacking in elegance or political wisdom, Jaehaerys," Alysanne countered softly. "It is the only path that will allow us to preserve not merely peace, but true and heartfelt friendship with House Velaryon for decades to come."
The King rubbed his face hard with both hands once more, as if attempting to brush away the weariness accumulated throughout the day, and asked in a muffled voice:
"And what precisely has our granddaughter devised?"
"It is remarkably simple and sensible," the Queen began to explain, unfolding the essence of the plan before her husband step by step. "Rhaenys proposes taking Daemon to King's Landing to be fostered as soon as he is a bit older. There, we shall make him a squire to our heir. Aemon is the future king, but he is also Daemon's own uncle. Corlys himself serves as Master of Ships on your Small Council and spends most of the year in the capital. He would never decline such an offer, for his son and heir will grow up right before his eyes, under the wing of the future king. It will intertwine and bring our Houses closer than ever before."
Alysanne paused briefly before continuing in an even firmer tone:
"And after that, we must firmly establish a new royal decree. Should House Velaryon or any of its branches produce dragonriders or hatch new dragons in the future, those riders must, without exception, marry only members of House Targaryen. In this current generation, those representatives will be the future children of Rhaenys and Viserys, once they marry and have heirs of their own."
Jaehaerys scowled heavily, displeasure flaring in his eyes once more.
"I thoroughly dislike the thought of allowing the Velaryons so close to the Iron Throne and sharing supreme power with them," he said with distaste.
"Forget your personal grievances and long-standing fears for a moment, Jaehaerys!" the Queen replied soothingly, looking at him with deep conviction. "Answer yourself honestly: what is better for us? To bind the Velaryons to us permanently through strong dynastic marriages and ties of blood, or to doom our entire lineage to eternal, secret enmity with a family that possesses its own dragon?"
The King did not answer immediately. He turned back to the window and pondered in silence for nearly a full minute, pacing slowly across the room. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the quiet of the chamber while hundreds of scenarios and political risks crossed his mind. Finally, he halted, reached a firm decision, and looked heavily at his wife.
"Very well," Jaehaerys said, a grudging yet firm resignation to the inevitable sounding in his voice. "Let it be as you say. You are right in the main: we truly cannot afford the luxury of open enmity with a family that has acquired dragonriders of its own. Such a feud would weaken us and leave us impossibly vulnerable to all the other houses of Westeros, who wait only for our downfall."
"I am truly glad you heeded my advice, Jaehaerys," Queen Alysanne breathed with relief, pressing a palm to her heart. "I am convinced this is the safest and most sensible way to resolve everything without open conflict."
"I too pray you are right, Alysanne," the King replied with a sigh, stepping to the table and taking up his goblet of wine. "Though I must also say, I dislike how much stronger the Velaryons grow with every passing year."
"Do not fear that strength," the Queen replied with a soft, reassuring smile. "That strength will serve us and all of Westeros only for good. For when Daemon grows up, he will always have a faithful wife from House Targaryen standing beside him."
***
At that very same hour, on the other side of High Tide, quite a different atmosphere reigned in the spacious, cool solar of Lord Corlys Velaryon. Here, the flower of the male line of the Sea Snake's House had gathered. Sitting at the massive desk of black ebony was Lord Corlys himself, opposite him sat his mother, Lady Alice, and to his right and left were his younger brothers, Daeron and Veylor. Princess Viserra was not among them, she was resting in her bedchamber, tending to babe Daemon, with Princess Rhaenys keeping faithful watch beside her.
Daeron Velaryon, who had arrived at High Tide only this afternoon alongside the rest of the Targaryens, looked at his elder brother with warm sincerity and poured wine into his goblet.
"I congratulate you once more from the bottom of my heart on the birth of your son, Corlys," Daeron said, raising his cup. "I am truly happy for you and Viserra. An heir to Driftmark is a great joy for each of us and for our entire House."
Corlys inclined his head slightly, accepting the praise, his stern face softening for a fleeting moment.
"Thank you for your kind words, brother," Corlys replied to his brother's congratulations. "And I am especially grateful to you for standing in my stead in King's Landing this past month, impeccably carrying out all my duties as Master of Ships on the King's Small Council. Without your aid, I could not have remained here peacefully beside my wife."
Daeron took a sip of wine, set his goblet on the table, and, sweeping a questioning glance over those present, asked:
"But why have we gathered here at so late an hour? What urgency required our presence behind closed doors?"
Instead of Corlys, it was his mother, Lady Alice, who answered. She sat opposite her eldest son, her back straight, her stern, dark eyes filled with anxiety.
"We are gathered here, Daeron," Lady Alice spoke, her voice carrying a heavy, warning cadence, "because your elder brother has given his newborn son far too extraordinary and far too perilous a gift. And now, to be frank, I have no idea how King Jaehaerys will react once he fully comprehends what has occurred."
Daeron knit his brows in surprise and shifted his puzzled gaze from his mother to Corlys, knowing full well that their mother would never be so visibly rattled over a mere trifle or standard royal favor.
"What have you done this time, Corlys?" Daeron asked, leaning forward expectantly.
Veylor Velaryon, who had been sitting quietly until now, turned to his brother and answered in Corlys's stead with a grim smirk.
"Our dear brother hatched a real, living dragon for his son Daemon on the very day of his birth."
Daeron froze in surprise, then slowly turned his stunned gaze upon his elder brother.
"Hatched a dragon?.." he repeated, as if unable to trust his own ears, before his tone grew gravely concerned. "Listen, Corlys... Would it not have been better to wait until we had secured the King's official consent and rights to the Stepstones? After something like this, the King might dig in his heels and simply refuse to yield those islands to our family's control!"
Corlys leaned back slightly in his chair, a flash of unshakeable confidence in his eyes - the look of a man accustomed to taking what belonged to him by right:
"The Stepstones will not go anywhere, Daeron," Corlys answered calmly. "And this dragon is my son's birthright. He carries the blood of Old Valyria through both his mother's line and ours. Both of you - you and Veylor - could likewise have become riders and claimed dragons of your own in time, but you yourselves refused that opportunity."
Daeron sighed heavily, shaking his head, and countered forcefully:
"You and I discussed this in detail more than once in years past, Corlys!" he said with conviction. "We refused not out of fear, but out of cold calculation. The appearance of so many dragons in our family would inevitably lead to direct, bloody conflict with House Targaryen! The Crown never tolerates equals in power. We explicitly agreed back then: if our descendants ever become riders in the future, it will only be after officially marrying your direct offspring and securing full approval!"
"Daeron is right," Veylor chimed in. "We already firmly established this rule within our family so as not to put our entire house in jeopardy."
Corlys rubbed his chin, his tone filled with unyielding tenacity:
"Just because we agreed does not mean I must genuinely like such a state of affairs, or that I should curb the growth of my firstborn!" the Sea Snake stated firmly. "My House and I possess more than enough strength, wealth, and influence to face any potential consequences of this step head-on."
Lady Alice decisively intervened in her sons' conversation, striking her palm against the table:
"This will lead to a fierce conflict not only with the King, Corlys!" the mother said sternly, searching her eldest son's face. "It will lead to a hidden or open confrontation with all of Westeros! The other Great Houses - the Lannisters, Baratheons, Arryns, Tyrells - already despise how rapidly House Velaryon rises and expands. They wait only for a convenient pretext, seeking the slightest chance to unite and tear away some piece of our wealth!"
"In that case, they shall all pay for their insolence," Corlys cut in dryly, without a shred of doubt.
Daeron leaned across the table, looking his brother straight in the eye with respect, yet unyielding candor:
"Allow me to remind you, Corlys, that from our earliest childhood, it was you who taught us the golden rule: never engage in unnecessary, meaningless conflicts that can be avoided through wit, restraint, and calculated foresight! Why sail into a storm if you can navigate around it?"
Corlys slowly rubbed his temples once more, closed his eyes for a moment, and then said with a deep sigh:
"None of that matters now, my brothers. I have heard you, and I respect your choice and your fears. Daemon's dragon has already hatched, it lives, and no one on this earth can alter that fact."
Lady Alice nodded slightly, accepting the inevitable, and steered the conversation toward a constructive channel:
"In that case, we ought to soberly discuss King Jaehaerys's likely reaction when he is officially confronted with this fact tomorrow," said the mother.
"What do you think, Mother?" Daeron asked, turning to her. "Could the King openly attempt to take the dragon from Daemon or order it destroyed?"
Lady Alice shook her head, casting doubt on such an outcome.
"Unlikely, Daeron," his mother answered with a subtle, fleeting smile. "Queen Alysanne will do everything in her power to dissuade the King from such a foolish gesture."
"Why are you so certain of that, Mother?" Veylor narrowed his eyes with interest.
"Throughout this past month spent here in daily conversation with the Queen while needleworking and taking walks," Alice said slowly, "I realized one very important thing. Queen Alysanne is genuinely apprehensive of Corlys."
Daeron was surprised, even chuckling softly:
"The Queen of Westeros is wary of the Lord of Driftmark? Why would a queen with the full might of the realm and her own dragons behind her be cautious of our brother?"
"She does not wary of Corlys as a man or a lord," Lady Alice explained, holding up an index finger. "She is apprehensive of what he is capable of doing to protect his family."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Veylor pressed.
Their mother looked directly at Corlys and replied:
"More than once this past month, the Queen casually questioned me about our affairs in Essos. She was keenly interested in our trading partners in Volantis, Pentos, and Braavos, as well as the fate of those Essosi merchants and trade guilds that attempted to aggressively compete with the Velaryons or put spokes in our wheels in years past."
Daeron caught the subtext instantly, his expression turning gravely serious.
"She asked about those magisters?.." he said softly. "So the Queen - and all the other Targaryens with her - are well aware of the unfortunate fate of all our commercial rivals in the East. And they reasonably suspect that we had a hand in their disappearance."
"You are right, Daeron," Lady Alice confirmed. "The Queen understands full well how radical and ruthless Corlys is when settling matters if peaceful agreement proves impossible. And that is precisely why she will do everything to avoid pushing things to that extreme."
Corlys, having listened attentively to his mother, spoke up with conviction:
"The King is unlikely to do anything radical or rash," he said, addressing those present. "Both Queen Alysanne and Princess Rhaenys will strive to resolve this matter entirely through peaceful means until the very last moment."
"Are you truly one hundred percent certain of that, Corlys?" Daeron asked.
"Yes, I am absolutely certain," Corlys answered firmly. "In the entire royal family, only Jaehaerys harbors hidden resentment and apprehension toward our House. But the King is old. And once he goes to join the Gods and his son Aemon ascends the Iron Throne, all our dealings with the Crown will be settled far more easily."
Corlys rose from his chair, signaling that the critical discussion was coming to an end, and looked at his brothers with a specific, insistent directive:
"One more thing," Corlys added. "Tell your wives to make every effort to form a genuine friendship with Princess Rhaenys. Rhaenys has very few true friends and confidantes at the royal court right now. A strong friendship with all the women of House Velaryon will prove invaluable to our entire House in the future."
"Thea and Elise already get along splendidly with the Princess, Corlys," Lady Alice smiled faintly, looking at her son. "Over the past month, they have drawn quite close during shared meals and walks."
"Simply getting along and being true friends are two entirely different things, Mother," Corlys noted sternly.
Daeron and Veylor rose simultaneously and nodded in unison to their elder brother.
"We understand you perfectly, Corlys," Daeron said. "We will certainly speak with our wives today and explain the importance of this task."
***
The following morning dawned bright and pleasantly warm. Sunbeams breaking through a light veil of clouds illuminated the terrace of Corlys and Viserra's chambers, offering a breathtaking view of the endless expanse of the sea and the town surrounding the castle.
In the center of the terrace, sheltered from the direct wind by carved stone arches, stood an elegant cradle adorned with silver sea-horse fittings. In the cradle, sleeping peacefully, lay newborn Daemon. And right beside him, curled into a ball on soft silk sheets, lay his tiny dragon. The hatchling's snow-white scales, like fresh mountain snow, shimmered with mother-of-pearl in the sun, while its long, supple wing was neatly extended, covering the child's tiny body like a soft, protective blanket.
The doors to the terrace opened quietly, and the whole royal family stepped out into the fresh air, having come to personally meet the newest member of their line. King Jaehaerys walked at a slow pace in front, followed by Queen Alysanne, while Prince Aemon and Prince Baelon kept slightly behind alongside Princess Rhaenys, Lady Jocelyn, and Lord Corlys himself.
The King unhurriedly approached the cradle and set his heavy, watchful gaze upon his grandson. Yet a moment later, his entire monarchical focus centered on the dragon. Even in sleep, the little beast maintained an instinctive, deep connection with the child. Seeing this sight with his own eyes left Jaehaerys without a shadow of a doubt: the dragon was already bound to his grandson on an inseparable, mental level.
The King turned slowly toward Princess Viserra, who stood by a carved column, fully recovered from her difficult labor and looking filled with incredible pride and dignity.
"I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart, my daughter, on a safe and successful labor," Jaehaerys said, genuine paternal warmth sounding in his voice, temporarily supplanting his worries and fears. "You have given your husband a strong son"
"I am truly grateful for your words, Father," Viserra answered quietly yet with dignity, inclining her head.
Prince Aemon and Prince Baelon stepped closer as well, broad, genuine smiles breaking across their manly faces.
"Our congratulations, sister! And to you, Corlys!" Prince Aemon said with feeling, clapping the Sea Snake on the shoulder. "The heir to Driftmark looks a sturdy fellow! May the Gods grant him a long life and a grand destiny."
"Our thanks, my Princes," Corlys responded, bowing his head with measured courtesy in return.
Meanwhile, Jaehaerys took another step toward the cradle, reaching out a hand to get a better look at the babe. But no sooner had his broad palm drawn near the child than the small white dragon stirred instantly. Its long, serpentine neck arched, and a thin stream of smoke curled from its slender nostrils. The hatchling hissed menacingly at the King of Westeros himself, spreading its wings and completely shielding the sleeping Daemon from the potential threat.
Viserra stepped quickly to the cradle and placed a hand gently on the dragon's head with a soothing gesture, lightly stroking it along its crested scales.
"Forgive him, Father," Viserra said with a faint smile. "He is still so very small, yet he already displays an incredible spirit. He lets hardly anyone near Daemon except for me, Corlys, and those few he has come to know and recognize."
Jaehaerys slowly withdrew his hand, undaunted by the hiss, and a faint smile touched his lips.
"You have no need to apologize, Viserra," the King replied, gazing into the amber-glowing eyes of the little dragon. "I know these creatures all too well, and I remember vividly how fiercely and ruthlessly they protect their rider, even when they are no larger than a cat."
Viserra leaned carefully over the cradle and lifted Daemon into her arms with a smooth, tender motion. The hatchling did not hinder its rider's mother, on the contrary, it merely rumbled softly, watching her every move. Viserra turned to her father, straightening her back with pride.
"Meet your grandson, Father," she said, bringing the babe to the King. "This is our Daemon Velaryon, the future Lord of Driftmark and master of the tides."
The King took his grandson into his arms with characteristic gentleness. Daemon stirred slightly in his sleep, opening his deep purple, truly Valyrian eyes, and blinked up at his grandfather. Jaehaerys peered closely at the infant's tiny features. Everything about the babe - from the shape of his chin to the line of his brows and his expression - practically shouted that this was unmistakably the son of Corlys Velaryon. He bore such a striking, uncanny resemblance to his father that he looked like a miniature copy of him.
The King smiled down at his grandson and, shifting his gaze from the babe to the Sea Snake standing nearby, said aloud:
"You are remarkably fortunate, Lord Corlys, to have a firstborn who bears such an astonishing resemblance to his father. All of your blood is plain in him."
Corlys looked at his son with an indescribable warmth and pride that rarely broke through his usually cold exterior.
"I only sincerely hope, my King," replied the Lord of Driftmark, "that when Daemon grows and comes of age, he will become a far better lord, a far wiser ruler, and a far better man than I. My grandfather Daemon, after whom I proudly named my firstborn, always told me in my youth that for a true father and ruler, there is nothing greater or more joyful in this world than to see his own son become better than himself and surpass his sire in every way."
Jaehaerys cast another long, thoughtful look at the little dragon nestled comfortably in the cradle as if awaiting its rider's return, and then turned to Corlys with a subtle smile laden with double meaning and unspoken depth.
"Well, Lord Corlys," the King said, his voice ringing with quiet gravity, "I see clearly that in one thing your son has already managed to surpass you, having barely entered this world. He became a rider on the very first day of his life."
With those words, the King gently handed his grandson back into the arms of the radiant Viserra. Then, taking a step toward Corlys and drawing himself up to his full height, Jaehaerys looked Lord Velaryon straight in the eyes, his tone turning utterly grave and leaving no room for argument:
"And now, Lord Corlys... I believe you and I have a great deal to discuss behind closed doors."
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A/N
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