Damn, so much Aegon hate, what for?
Vasdos: It's a major setback but it's not like Quentyn cannot completely turn heels and be like "well I got fooled too, but we can still come to an agreement"
Paradox: What do you mean? Ned Dayne is Lord Dayne since his father died.
Sage: Pretty much, and the Golden Company isn't exactly close to Dany's heart anyways, as we will see later.
Kuman: I don't know about a better chance, but if he has Blackfyre blood, he certainly still has a decent shot at taming a dragon. Of course real Brightflame Blackfyre.
Ash: Not any other options, unfortunately.
Faemond: You're...completely right. I mean you've pretty much nailed on the head what the following chapter is going to be centered on, essentially. Dany isn't really too keen on Aegon taming a dragon, she just doesn't like a marriage being forced on her (Viserys, Drogo, Hizdahr), so she's deliberately throwing in a curveball by saying, "you want me? prove that you're worthy of me".
Guest: Quentyn's initial reaction is due to a "memory flashback" in a sense where he did gain Quentyn's "soul", so he still has memories of his past life, and seeing Viserion triggered those memories. For the rest, the Aegon situation is discussed below and as for Ned, there's a reason I said he looked like a Targ in previous chapters. Also I like Edric/Dany, although that pairing is a bit compromised here...or is it?
Halfblood: I mean, the interactions always went in and around Quentyn, but he's still "in control" and the focal point of the story. Quentyn never wanted to be king, his plan was always to have someone propped up on the throne. Daenerys will be there, but she'll be a background character, although it's a change, because although she won't be "under" Quentyn but "above" him, something only Doran really was before then. It's a change of situation, but not in structure.
The others: Thank you, sorry for the delay, this chapter was not supposed to be the one originally published, as you'll see in the author's note.
Nymeria
For all that the sun could try and shine with all its might, it couldn't so much as scorch Nymeria's skin. Volantis was just as warm as Dorne, and despite the absence of clouds, there was no sunburn to be seen.
However, one must admit that the heat was much harder to bear, and even one who has lived all their life in the sands of Dorne must relax in the shade even for a moment.
This is what she does, then, patiently waiting in the large tent clad with Martell colors, drinking a small Dornish red, while observing her surroundings.
The tent was large enough to accommodate a good twenty people, but the only ones present were Quentyn, the Yronwood cousins and Ned Dayne. And while she was perfectly relaxed in her chair, the same could not be said for her cousin, who was pacing around in his tent like a lion stuck in a cage.
"I told you it was a risky move." She smiled slightly, bringing her lips to the Dornish red once more.
"I didn't know she'd make it a condition." Quentyn abruptly stopped, sitting down on the couch, while staring into her eyes.
"Were you expecting the boy never to try and tame a dragon?" she asked again.
"No. I just expected…" Quentyn trailed off as she raised a finger in the air, stopping him.
"I know what you thought, but jealousy and desire work hand in hand," she continued, placing her now empty glass on the small wooden table in front of her, "one day, Aegon would have gotten fed up of not having a dragon of his own, and he would have tried to tame one. After all, if they are right there, unclaimed, surely, he would have attempted something?"
"I thought that he could be convinced that it was not a good idea." Quentyn shook his head. "I was foolish."
"Now wait a moment," Cletus Yronwood's voice cut through their conversation like a knife through butter. "Why are we discussing this? Surely Aegon will succeed, he is a Targaryen, after all."
"Not all Targaryens can immediately claim a dragon." Lord Dayne shrugged.
"Yes, for some it can take years," Quentyn added, "some even never bond with one."
"That may be true, but surely no Targaryen has failed in taming one before, then why worry?" Cletus asked. "You are all acting like Aegon is going to the gallows!"
Quentyn's worried gaze met Nymeria's amused one.
In unison, they both turned towards him, although Nymeria addressed her lover first him first:
"He doesn't know?" she asked with a sly smile.
"No." Quentyn stood up from his couch, avoiding Cletus' eyes.
"Know what?" Cletus crossed his arms, confused. "Is there another secret you kept from me?"
"Not necessarily from you personally," Quentyn continued in a softer voice, "I just kept this information to who I…trusted completely."
"What information?" Cletus' face was now closed, almost angry.
"Aegon…might not be who everyone think he is," Quentyn confessed.
The truth hit hard, but to Nym's surprise, it was the Dayne boy who reacted first.
"What do you mean?" the boy asked. "Who is he, then?"
"I'm not sure." Quentyn shrugged. "He could be a Targaryen, to be sure, but…"
"…would Elia have really accepted for her son to be saved but her daughter sacrificed?" Nymeria continued, "The story makes little sense, the more you dwell on it, the more holes appear…"
"And you knew this?" Cletus asked, outraged. "Who is he?"
"I don't know," Quentyn admitted. "Targaryen, Brightflame, Blackfyre, or just a boy taken from the streets of King's Landing or Essos, for what we know."
"I…I can't believe this." Cletus ran a hand through his hair, abruptly moving towards Quentyn, who didn't flinch. "And why did you think it was a good idea to marry him to Queen Daenerys?"
"Because we don't have any other options."
Nymeria noticed Ned Dayne almost opened his mouth at that, but closed it.
"Other options? How about the boy that has a damn dragon?" Cletus aggressively pointed outside. "It would certainly have saved us the trouble of flipping a coin on a boy's parentage!"
"Because the 'boy with a dragon' as you call him, was raised a bastard, and he is, for as long as I decide, a bastard. Maybe, if we're lucky, he would have had an education that would allow him to run a small keep in the North, maybe a few lands. He joined the Watch, what else can he know but rule a bunch of criminals and wildlings? And all of this is if, and that is an absolutely massive if, he wanted the throne and not to protect Northern independence, which is still going to be a pain in the ass to deal with."
Quentyn took a breath, then continued, "Meanwhile, Daenerys has had no education on rulership, her attempts so far have caused only chaos and I'll be damned if Slaver's Bay doesn't sink into anarchy in the next few years. She has no vision or plan, just ideas."
He then gestured in the general direction of Aegon's camp.
"Aegon has been raised to be a king. Yes, I am aware that Connington has probably tainted his view of the world a little, but the fact remains: he is well-versed in everything Daeron and Daenerys are not. The art of ruling is not something you can pick up in a few months. The Spider meant for him to be a good king, and as slippery as that fucker was, I can say that he did that right."
"We're not supporting Aegon for his blood, Yronwood," Nymeria said plainly, "we're supporting him because he can bring peace and stability."
"Since when do you care about that?" Cletus scoffed.
"Daenerys Targaryen was bound to come back to our shores at some point, Cletus." Quentyn frowned. "I'd much rather have it be on our terms than hers. She is still young and influenceable, surrounded by idiots and yes-men. If we are to consolidate and expand Dorne, we need her, and we need her now."
"I cannot believe this," Cletus growled. "How long have we been friends, Quent? Ten, fifteen years? And you hide this from me?"
"From us." Ned Dayne rose his voice, arms crossed behind the heir to Yronwood.
"Is that what our friendship and trust is worth?" Cletus continued, his voice deep with sadness and anger, before pointing a finger at her. "Is she worth more to you that you can trust her?"
"Yes." Quentyn's answer came down like a blade, and it seemed like Cletus had been executed.
At a loss for words, Cletus stammered for a few moments, looking aghast.
"You…you chose her?" Cletus looked at Quentyn now, his eyes filled with anger.
"I have a name," Nymeria hissed, not liking the tone the Yronwood boy was using.
"Shut up!" Cletus growled. "I don't know what Quentyn finds in you other than a pretty face and I frankly don't give a shit. All I know is that you wrapped your pretty fingers around him like the snake you are and I only tolerated you because of the affection I have for Quentyn. This does not concern you, whore!"
Nymeria rose up, a hand firmly attached to one of her daggers she hid behind her back. It took all of Quentyn's strength to hold her back from drawing blood.
"Be careful, Cletus." Quentyn frowned deeply.
"Or what?" The Yronwood boy almost laughed. "What will you do, my prince? Send me back because I have displeased you? Is that what our friendship is worth? For you to betray our trust like this, and trust that…that…snake with your secrets?"
Suddenly, a deep voice boomed through the tent,
"I knew."
"What?" Cletus immediately turned around, along with all of the gazes of the people inside, towards Archibald Yronwood.
"I knew about Aegon," the tall man simply said.
"Gerris and Gulian know as well," Quentyn spoke softly, while Cletus looked baffled. "That's why Oberyn didn't come. I needed him to stay for if he somehow recognized Aegon as not being Elia's son…"
"…we needed a fait accompli, as they say in Lys," Nymeria added. "My father would've sent it all flying to the ground for a bit of pride."
"Wha…why did I not know? Why did Ned not know?" Cletus asked, confused as ever.
"Ned was too young, I couldn't trust him with that information," Quentyn said with a sigh "As for you, you did not bring me enough proof that you were trustworthy."
"Based on what? What happened in the capital? I thought I had done my penance!" Cletus pleaded; his voice having gone from anger to defeat.
"You talk too much," Quentyn explained "In your cups or in bed. I'm sorry."
"All of that based on that shred of information in the capital? I never told a soul!" Cletus reacted with energy. "How can you know where it came from?"
"I only told you."
The answer once again came down, cleanly, not leaving the boy a single chance. Cletus was stunned, at a loss for words.
"If there's nothing else, we need to go convince Queen Daenerys to not go through with this madness." Quentyn sighed, as if nothing had happened, patting Archibald on the back.
"Before we go," Nymeria smiled, then walked up to the Yronwood boy. "I have something to do."
Not leaving him a chance, her fist came flying into Cletus' nose, sending him hurling to the ground.
"Only one man may ever call me a whore. Say it again and not even your cousin may stop me from removing your tongue."
Not even bothering to let him defend or excuse himself, she sent a single kick into his side as he lay on the dusty ground, blood rushing from his nose and a part of his face.
"Go to the maester, Cletus," Quentyn ordered, "and if you insult Nym again, you'll get to swim back to Yronwood."
Nymeria exited the tent, furious, but tried to calm herself down. They would not need to be divided during these decisive times. In Westeros, they could bicker all they want…just not right now.
She took a breath of fresh air, feeling the evening cool on her skin, then followed the trio to Queen Daenerys' camp, which they were beginning to know well.
Ser Barristan stopped them at the Queen's tent, only allowing her and Quentyn in.
"Your grace," Quentyn knelt in front of the Valyrian beauty, Nym closely following.
"Prince Quentyn, to what do I owe this visit?" Queen Daenerys motioned for them to rise, her small translator looking at them with an odd eye.
"I wished for you to reconsider the condition you put on your marriage with Prince Aegon," Quentyn cut in, straight to the point.
"Oh?" the Queen fiddled with one of her jewels, "and why is that?"
"With all due respect, Your Grace, a Targaryen taming or forming a bond with a dragon can take months, if not years. Months and years that we do not have," Quentyn dug in, straight to the point.
"Some Targaryens also may never form a bond," Nymeria felt compelled to add.
The Queen rose from her chair and stepped down to their level, looking at them as if to see if they were hiding something.
"The defence of your kin is quite justified," she finally said, "but I have made my decision."
"Your Grace," Quentyn protested again, "Prince Aegon is a kind soul, but he is also a man that wishes to be devoted to you. Rushing him like this may have bad consequences."
The Queen giggled.
"Fire does not harm a dragon." She hummed. "Prince Aegon will be fine."
"Princess Rhaenyra was harmed by that same fire, was she not a dragon?"
Quentyn's retort stopped the Queen in her tracks. Suddenly, she felt less confident.
"You may be right," she admitted, "however, I have been used all my life by men who were not worthy of me. Not worthy of the dragon. My brother, idiot that he was, thought himself to be a dragon, you see. In truth, he was nothing more than a sheep thinking he had wings. No, Prince Quentyn, I am not in a mood to accept another sheep as my husband. Prince Aegon can prove himself as a dragon, or he can run and be a sheep."
"There aren't many dragons around, Your Grace," Quentyn pointed out.
"No," the Queen giggled, "but there are many men that can submit to me entirely. Aegon will not. He wishes to share power? Let him. But let him prove himself a dragon first, for I will not be duped again."
"And if he doesn't tame one?" Quentyn asked, clearly desperate.
"Well, no harm done. I am a patient woman, I will wait for him to do so." Queen Daenerys shrugged. "And in the meantime, I shall still seek the throne you wish to place me on."
Quentyn's expression remained plain, but Nymeria could see that he was struggling.
"Your Grace, couldn't we at least agree on a betrothal?" she asked with confidence. "You wouldn't be committed to it, and should Prince Aegon not prove 'dragon' enough for your liking, you may still break it."
The Queen stayed mute at the proposition, humming for a moment, before nodding.
A slight smile formed on Nymeria's lips, only to come crashing down at her response.
"I shall dwell on it."
Before Nymeria could protest in turn, Ser Barristan entered the tent, causing the two Dothraki guards in the tent to stiffen, almost at attention.
"Your Grace, Prince Aegon has been seen trying to approach Rhaegal."
"Shit," Quentyn murmured, close enough for her to hear.
"Well, then, we shall see how this goes!" the Queen jovially laughed, "it's a good choice too, Rhaegal is the softest of them all, I don't think he could really harm a fly unless he was hungry."
This seemed to greatly annoy Quentyn, or at least it made him stammer something even she couldn't understand.
Nevertheless, they both followed the Queen out to a secluded area, outside of the camp, in a clearing where the woods touched the sea.
Rhaegal was there, the majestic dragon resting on the beach, his green scales reflecting the sea, making him shine brighter.
In front of him, Aegon was moving slowly, surely breathing in heavily with each step, his arm outstretched.
A small crowd had gathered at a safe distance, all huddled around Queen Daenerys who watched the show with great attention, a finger on her cheek and her gaze fixated on the dragon.
Suddenly, Rhaegal woke up, stretching his legs, which made Aegon retreat at least six or seven steps, looking at the dragon who stared down at him.
Quentyn took a deep breath. Sensing his distress, she offered a hand which he immediately took.
Rhaegal had now lowered his head at Aegon's level, studying him closely.
As he did so, no one moved a muscle, or talked. The only thing she could hear other than the waves were Quentyn's mysterious words, which he whispered to himself,
"Salve, Regina, mater misericordiae…"
Aegon outstretched his arm, towards Rhaegal's nose. The dragon flinched, his head going back, not letting Aegon even feel the warmth of his breath.
"misericordes oculos ad nos converte…"
The dragon slowly opened his mouth, his teeth now revealed. Aegon has stopped, his arm still outstretched, but now trembling. Nymeria could see, even from where she was standing, that he had closed his eyes.
"nobis post hoc exsilium ostende…"
The dragon has closed in, his mouth still open. It was over. Nymeria could feel it. They had gambled and they had lost. She could now feel the dragon's heat burning from afar, ready to end their hopes in a jet of flame. Quentyn had closed his eyes, still mumbling.
"O clemens, O pia…"
Then, as she feared she would see a dragon hurling death at someone for the first time, Rhaegal closed his mouth and the distance separating him and Aegon. He placed his nostrils in front of the Prince, letting his hand touch the scales of the beast.
A gasp escaped the audience, where Daenerys' expression was now unreadable, a mix between surprise and anxiety.
"Salve, regina, mater misericordiae…"
Quentyn opened his eyes again, then watched, baffled, as Rhaegal laid down next to Aegon, extending his wing and urging him to climb on.
Aegon walked at a slow pace, not wanting to rush the pace. Then, as Nymeria saw him cling on to the spines on the dragon's back, Rhaegal spread his wings and took off, casting a large shadow over the small crowd, and disappearing on the horizon.
Quentyn almost fell to his knees, and Nym could see some tears of joy form around his eyes.
He kissed her palm and whispered into it:
"Gracias Maria."
Knowing that he would need some time to recover, she instead grinned and looked to Queen Daenerys, who looked at the sky with a mixture of sadness and wonder:
"So, Your Grace, when shall we schedule the wedding?"
A/N: Surprise! This took a while because the original chapter that was supposed to be posted was not this one, but I changed my mind due to feeling bad about leaving you on a cliffhanger.
For the latin phrases:
Salve, Regina, mater misericordiae - Hail, Queen, Mother of Mercy
misericordes oculos ad nos converte - Turn thy merciful eyes toward us
nobis post hoc exsilium ostende - And after this our exile, show us
O clemens, O pia - O clement, O loving
Gracias Maria. - Thank you, Mary
So there is some sense to them, the prayer isn't random.