He lay before her. Her nephew, protector and husband.
The crumpled bedsheets clung to his toned body and his arm wrapped tightly around her. Daenerys felt comfortable beside him, enjoying the warmth of the body pressing against hers. Through the windows, the sun was already out. Illyrio's slaves were under orders not to disturb them, something the princess was thankful for. She just wanted to relax.
In many ways, it didn't turn out the way she expected. In her mind, Dany thought it was going to be romantic and sweet, like the stories. But instead it was clumsy, messy and awkward, like when their limbs got in the way of each other, or when she had accidently kneed him, and quite a few times they had both burst out laughing. Yet for all its faults, she did enjoy it, even if it didn't turn out the way she anticipated.
With a gentle hand, Dany ran a finger down his chest, making Aegon shudder slightly in his slumber. She smiled at that. His skin was soft as a maidens, still yet to grow hair, and muscle was just beginning to show on his slender frame from his training. Beautiful Aegon. Daenerys brushed some hair out of his eyes before they flicked open with life. Dany squealed as his arms wrapped tightly around her, drawing her close to him.
Aegon's eyes were bright with amusement and on his lips was a cocky smirk. "Morning." Dany smiled shyly, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. He glanced at the windows, his grip slacking. "Morning already, a shame I must say." Dany disagreed and pulled him close, savouring the warmth of his flesh as she rested her head on his shoulder; his arms engulfing her in a snug embrace. It felt like eternity before he finally separated from her and stood up. Aegon shot her another one of his smiles and cleaned himself up from their night together. "As much as I would love to stay with you, dearest wife of mine, we still have duties. A shame I know, but things are expected of both of us." He released a soft chuckle. "I shall always remember our night together, and I'll have the bruises to remind me." With that she threw a pillow at him, only making him laugh louder.
Dany covered her petite breasts with the bedsheet. "You're just as guilty."
Her prince nodded in agreement as he put on his clothes. "Aye, I am, and for that I'm greatly sorry." The turned around to show a wicked smirk.
Always apologising. Daenerys couldn't help but smile. He was in that mood today. Only when he dressed and left, did she clean herself up before slipping into soft sandals and dressed herself in a violet dress which brought out the colour of her eyes. After she prepared herself, Daenerys turned to the three eggs which sat neatly in the chest. All three looked beautiful against the light of the sun, like colourful glass. Dany gently ran her fingers over one, feeling the scales which decorated the shell. The stone had a low warmth to it, just noticeable.
She pulled her hand away.
"How," Dany muttered to herself. She placed the tip of her fingers on them again and could feel the warmth radiating inside. Illyrio said these had turned to stone, but stone was cold, not warm. That's strange. A part of herself told her it wasn't the case, and with her duties to perform, Daenerys pushed it to the back of her mind and continued with her day. They were just stone, nothing more. They were pretty things to look at, but nothing else.
As always, Daenerys started the day with Septa Lemore and learning about the mysteries of the faith. Reading from the Seven Pointed Star, learning about the histories of the Seven and the land of Andalos, the land just north of Pentos. They ended their session with the migration of the Andals, where they arrived at Westeros and spread the faith to the savage worshippers of the Old Gods, beginning with the Vale and slowly heading west and south. A few times throughout the session, they prayed to the six aspects but mostly to the mother and asking for fertility.
Then that was done, Dany was escorted to the library where she saw Aegon walking out. He gave her a sly smile and a wink. Inside Halfmaester was tapping the table in frustration. "Princess," he said without looking up. "Ready to learn about the history of the Ninepenny Kings, or the Band of Nine, as they were before Prince Duncan made that insufferable jape."
The princess tried to suppress a small giggle from her teacher's tone. The tone he could only get from Aegon. "What did he do this time?"
"Youth. That and arrogance." He pointed to the open tome. "Sit down and read that. Maester Eon's Account of the War of the Ninepenny Kings. A good book, full of proper facts. Most of it is about the war, but we're going to learn about the alliances and the various actors within the Band of Nine." His eyes tightened. "Daenerys, I trust that you will not ask about the various battles, as your nephew-husband did."
"I won't." Fighting wasn't her place, she knew.
"Good. First would you like to read it out then?"
Daenerys did. Compared to other books she read, it was simpler compared to the long and overly complex styles of other maesters. She already knew that the Band of Nine were a collection of powerful traders, pirates and mercenary groups which had united under the promise to aid each other gain kingdoms for themselves, mostly in the Disputed Lands and the Stepstones. It was originally founded by Alequo Adarys, a wealthy and ambitious Tyroshi merchant who wanted the Free City of Tyrosh and rule it as its despot. He had made a deal with the Blackfyre pretenders, who were offered both financial and political support in return. Other actors were soon to join them for their own gains. Liomond Lashara of the Spotted Lions, Nine Eyes of the Jolly Fellows, Spotted Tom the butcher, Ser Derrick Fossoway the Bad Apple, and the Summer Islander prince turned sellsword captain Xhobar Qhoqua. They all got under the banner of the nine; alongside pirate fleets under the Old Mother and Samarro Saan.
Daenerys was told how they all met, the alliance they formed and the agreements they all made. With the Disputed Lands and Stepstones initially being split up between them. Instead of going against them, Westeros largely kept to itself, but watching the band and expecting the Free Cities to deal with them until Jaehaerys II ordered a pre-emptive strike on the Blackfyre and his supporters before they could land on the mainland. Dany already knew much about it, but Haldon went into the details of the Three Sisters and their relationship. Tyrosh under their despot was fully devoted to the Blackfyre cause, offering coin, men and ships to the war effort. Lys had wanted to join in early on in the conflict, wanting to take advantage of the chaos for their own gain; whilst Myr remained neutral besides fearing the power of the alliance. Neither of these two got involved, even though there was a pull from the aristocracy to get involved either with or against the band.
She wondered why she was being taught this, unless Haldon believed something similar could happen with her and Aegon. After all, the Band of Nine was considered a threat to the Iron Throne at the time. She smiled and remembered what Haldon had said previously, "History repeats itself, so learn how to use it." She brought her thoughts up and he said, "It does indeed. The Blackfyres were exiled here in Essos. It would be wise to learn what they did for we are in the same position as them. Learn to succeed where they failed."
She agreed and remembered back at the wedding. The brother of the Tyroshi Archon did seem sympathetic to their plight, as did a few sellsail captains when she spoke with them. Perhaps we can recreate the Band of Nine, but with actual dragons at the helm. But for coin instead of territory.
When she finished her studies, Daenerys Targaryen went to the courtyard to watch her nephew practise. He was duelling beside the lithe statue, with the pudgy Unsullied standing guard looking closer to statues themselves. Aegon was sparring with Ser Duck, both in mail and padded gambesons. Neither wielded a shield and instead were practising on with sword and evading, all whilst Griff was shouting at his ward. They tried various weapons: axes, maces, polearms and different kinds of swords. Connington had always expressed the need for her nephew to learn to use all different weapons at his disposal. Even though her nephew was quick and landed more hits, Ser Duck was stronger and larger and when he hit, it showed. After a close struggle, Rolly struck her husband and Aegon was thrown to the ground.
Jon Connington groaned. "You need to make sure not to push your sword against your opponent. That is not how you grapple them." He sighed and shook his head. "Expect many knights to break through that guard. Your father was gifted with the sword, you should be too."
Aegon frowned, his expression looked cold enough to freeze the Rhoyne. But he looked away once he noticed Daenerys standing there. Her nephew wiped the sweat off his face and then turned back to face her, putting on a smile. "Dany," he called, his voice still full of frustration.
For as much she loved her nephew, he could get emotional, even though he tried to conceal it in her presence. Dany did suspect it likely came down to his Dornish blood. He was half Dornish after all and the Dornish were said to be hot-blooded and promiscuous. Which did make a part of Dany wonder if Aegon would abandon her for another if he grew bored. When the thought had come up, she tried to ignore it but it remained in her mind. "I see you were practising, I didn't want to interrupt you."
His expression softened. "No worries." He tilted his head slightly, a strand of blond hair hung between his eyes. "I trust your lessons were decent."
"You clearly upset our beloved teacher." While they had once been taught in the same room, as they grew older, they had been split too learn different things, such as Aegon learning to fight and lead men into battle, as was his place in life.
"Halfmaester doesn't have any sense of humour," he chuckled. "Like he's got a stick up his arse." Ser Duck laughed at that, whilst Jon just shook his head with disapproval.
She couldn't help but smile. "Aegon, you remember those eggs?"
"The dragon eggs that Magister Illyrio gave us? Yea, I remember those. How could I not. Beautiful things."
Her voice went softer. "After you left . . . I went over and touched them. They were warm."
"Warm?" She nodded. "Are you sure you're not imagining things. They turned to—"
"What's this about dragon eggs," Connington questioned in his usual stern manner.
If anyone's got a stick up their arse, it's him. When she was younger, their exiled lord treated them well, sometimes showing a smile (more towards Aegon then her). But as they got older, he became much more cold and distance, always serious. "The gifts which Illyrio gave . . . they were warm to the touch."
"Warm? How can that be? He said that they were turned to stone, and besides, no dragons have appeared since the days of Aegon the Dragonbane. They're just pretty stones now, nothing else."
"But I felt them. They were warm, not intensely so, but I felt them." Ser Duck looked at her with fondness, but he didn't seem convinced. She knew that Griff wasn't. Her nephew looked unsure. I need more proof then my word, she realised. "I can show you . . . if it's not too much trouble."
"The prince needs to practise. His sword hand has slackened." Her husband winced at that.
"I'm sure the lad can afford to take a break, milord," Duckfield quickly said. "He has been training hard. I may have broken a rib or two with his last strike."
Connington snorted. "Must had addled your brain as well." But a look at Rhaegar's son made him relent. "Fine, but be quick about it. You need much more practise if you want to be a proper knight."
Aegon bowed his head and walked off with Dany. Then they were a fair distance away, he said, "Even if you didn't mean it, I thank you for getting me away from him."
"Griff?"
He nodded solemnly. "For as much as I respect and like him. He gets a bit too . . . obsessive when it comes to training." She heard a heavy groan come from his lips. "He thinks I'm my father, Rhaegar the Perfect."
"He's your father." Aegons view of his father annoyed Daenerys. Rhaegar was her brother and she regularly was told stories of him by Jon. A warrior of impressive skill in both sword and lance, a scholar with a keen intellect, with a love for the harp but also solemn and withdrawn. While Aegon used to look up to him, within recent years he began to dislike Rhaegar, blaming his father for the ruin to their house. "He's your family. You should love him."
He waved his hand dismissively. "I don't want to talk about it. The training wasn't that bad, no need to bring him into it. The father I never knew, yet I'm constantly compared too and raised to be like. A dead man's shadow."
"Aegon," she said softly as she stooped outside their chambers. "Remember when you were younger and you wanted to be like him." As well as Daeron the Young Dragon and Aegon the Conqueror. She missed her younger nephew, when he stilled looked up his father; when he played with her, chasing each other around and climbing the trees or swimming in the Rhoyne. Aegon was a talented swimmer.
Aegon frowned at that. "That was before I realised what he did. People praise Rheagar. They praise him like a hero of legend. An intellect, a wise scholar, an excelled knight, an unparalleled jouster. No. He started the civil war by choosing that northern whore and disappearing with her after the tourney. He gave her the crown of roses instead of his own wife . . . humiliating her in front of everyone . . . the whole seven kingdoms. Then he disappeared with her. He abandoned the wife who loved him, he abandoned his son and daughter and doomed his entire house. Because of him . . . because of my father we live here like beggars, feeding on scraps and reliant on the hospitality of others, while the usurpers soil our family's throne. That is why I hate him."
Daenerys was taken aback by that. He's your father Aegon, she could have said, but she could see the anger in his eyes.
Dany took his hand in hers and his features softened, losing most of his rage. "I'm sorry Dany . . . it's just . . ." He sighed and turned his head away. "I know I shouldn't."
A quick peck on the cheek made what was left of the anger leave him. Whenever he got mad, her making contact was enough to calm him down. Daenerys just hoped he would grow out of it before they back to Westeros. "Come, I'll show you the eggs." They both went back to their chambers where he just looked at the three. "They were warm," she handed him the black one. "Can you feel it?"
Daenerys was quickly disheartened by his reaction. Aegon was lightly bouncing the egg up and down in his hands and letting his hands examine it. "I don't feel it Dany. It's cold to me . . . perhaps it's just on your mind."
"But I felt it. It was warm, not immensely so . . . but I felt it."
Aegon shook his head and put it back down. "I'm sorry, I felt nothing."
It upset her that Aegon didn't believe her, or sense it. She could remember the warmth radiating from within the shells. "You really can't feel anything?" He shook his head. "Perhaps I was . . . overreacting. I may have just made it up." She didn't believe that was the case, but she found it strange that her nephew didn't feel it. She was given a quick kiss in response, making her giggle softly.
When Daenerys slept that night, she had dreamt a strange dream. There was a creature, with long leathery wings and scales as dark as the night, wet and flowing red . . . blood . . . her blood. Bright red its eyes were and when it opened its jaw, jets of flame spewed out, wrapping around her body, both burning hot and strangely comforting. Then her skin began to blacken and crack, before blowing away in the wind like dust. The dragon turned to her, its eyes like bright red pools. Then it roared.
There she threw herself up, her eyes adjusting to the dark room. Dany was panting heavily, her body shaking and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. She heard a mumble beside her and her husband stirred from his heavy slumber. "What's wrong," he questioned with voice croaky which as a contrast to his normally soft and melodious tone.
"A bad dream," she replied after a moment, before hugging herself. There she felt blood between her thighs.
Aegon made a humming sound before wrapping his arms around and pressing her closely to him. She accepted his embrace, clinging closely to him, where she felt him rest his chin on her head. "What was it about?" His voice going back to normal.
"A dragon, black and red . . . flames came out of its mouth and my skin . . . my skin cracked and burnt." Aegon tightened his arms around her.
"A dragon dream or nightmare?"
"Could it be?" She had read somewhere that Targaryen's had strange dreams which were said to be able to predict the future, like Daenys Targaryen foreseeing the Doom of Valyria, causing their house to move to Dragonstone. She wondered if it was what Aegon suggested. It did have dragons in it. "Perhaps . . . but I'm not sure." She wondered if it had something to do with the eggs. Dany didn't sound her thoughts, instead just laid close to him until the sun rose and slaves rushed in to help them clean and prepare.
When Daenerys was dressed in a simple cream dress, she proceeded over and touched the cream egg. Like the others, it was warm, if with slightly greater intensity to what she remembered. I was right. They are stone, she remembered Illyrio saying. Stone, but stone isn't warm, not on its own. As she pressed her palm to the green one, it felt hotter. She quickly withdrew her hand.
"Princess," Doreah asked with a softness to her voice. "What's the matter?"
Dany turned to the window, there was a chance the sun warmed them up. But not like this, not this much. "Dragons are all dead, aren't they?" She heard they were. The last under Aegon the third. But the world was large and much was unexplored. There should be dragons elsewhere, in places unknown, like east of the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai.
The fair haired handmaiden smiled slightly before leading Dany to a seat and began to comb her hair. "Once, a trader from Qarth told me that dragons come from the moon."
"The moon?" Dany almost laughed.
"He told me that the moon was an egg, my princess," she said, her voice almost musical. "For once there were two moons in the night sky. Beautiful they were and they danced among the stars. But when one got too close to the sun, it cracked like an egg and dragons poured out. Thousands of them poured out like a swarm of locusts, drinking the fires of the sun . . . that is why they breathe fire that is. They all have a part of the sun within them."
Fire made flesh. Daenerys smiled. "Is that so. When what will happen if the other moon gets to close, will the same happen?"
"It is foretold. When the other decides to kiss her, the same thing will happen. Dragons will return to the world."
That gave the princess a thought: the moon, sun, eggs and dragons. That filled her mind when she ate with the others in the feasting hall. While Illyrio presented food from all over the world, Daenerys only ate a simple meal of eggs, bacon and fried bread, with some honeyed wine to wash it down. "Magister," Daenerys said abruptly. The whale of a man looked up at her, grease covered his lips and crumbs of food trapped in his golden beard. "The eggs that you gave us, are they truly stone?"
Illyrio Mopatis looked perplexed. "They are indeed, little princess. They are ancient, with the age of time turning them to rock. They are pretty jewels, nothing more. They are yours to do with as you wish. They are valuable and enough for an army if needed. Certainly easier to transport then chests of gold." He glanced at Jon and her nephew.
"But they were warm." That earned her a suspicious look from Septa Lemore and Halfmaester. Connington rolled his eyes and Aegon looked down. Illyrio Mopatis meanwhile looked amused. "I touched them yesterday and they were warm to the touch. I did likewise this morning and they seemed to grow hotter."
"I touched them and they were cold," Aegon replied as he slid a piece of bacon around the plate. "If that was the case, I would have felt their warmth."
"It's true, I felt them. They were warm. I also had that Dragon Dream, of the dragon, with my skin cracking and breaking . . . and blood."
"What a lovely thing to say when we're breaking-our-fast," Ser Duck replied before pushing the plate away.
"Dragons have been long dead," Jon muttered with dismissal.
"Perhaps not," Illyrio said with calculated words. Everyone turned to him. "Perhaps they can be awoken."
"How," Aegon almost shouted. "How can that be? Is . . . is it possible?"
The magister shrugged his heavy shoulders. "I can't be the one to say, but there may be a chance to do it, with magic."
There was a moment of silence before Dany replied, "What kind?" Her voice soft.
"There are various kinds, but one is more potent than the rest."
The Septa shook her head, Connington went pale. Dany had a clear idea as to why. She heard about Blood magic from various sources. The faith saw it as evil, with only evildoers practising it. It was quite common in Qohor, with them using it for their sorcerers. She didn't know if she could, the act of killing another with the off-chance that it could resurrect a dragon. But she felt it . . . she felt the warmth to the eggs, all three of them. "But is it possible?" That shocked everyone else.
The magister stroked his beard. "It could be very much so. Your house's words are Fire and Blood. Perhaps that has something to do with it." He nodded, "Yes, but if we do, we need to prepare." A smirk grew on his lips.
"This shouldn't be possible," Connington said sternly. "You think about using blood magic to wake up stone?"
"Wake up dragons you mean." The merchant prince tore off the limb of a duck and dipped it in sauce. "If it has even a small chance, we shall take it. I didn't get all this for being cautious. I took risks and I was rewarded because of it. Just imagine it, my lord of griffins. Both prince Aegon and princess Daenerys resurrecting dragons after all these years and regaining the throne of Westeros."
That made the lord pause.
Septa Lemore was less than thrilled. "But blood magic is wrong . . . it's immoral. I won't support it."
"My lady," Connington spoke up. "Dragons, three of them. Too put the Targaryen's back on the throne."
"The ends don't always justify the means," she spoke up with more strength then Dany expected from her.
"For a dragon, it does. Aegon the Conqueror conquered Westeros with these creatures, if they can hatch, taking Westeros will be easier." Septa Lemore shook her head and left.
Illyrio Mopatis took out a silk cloth and wiped his hands and face before standing up. "If this is the decided course of action, I will need to prepare. We all need to prepare for this can change the fate of Westeros and the world."
