"You're not going to die," Valerion said.

He closed the door to his solar and stepped around a half-dozen puppies as he made his way through. They nipped at his heels and made cute little noises as he sat down next to his sister-wife. Gael had one in her lap and was calmly petting it as she smiled at him. Valerion couldn't help but return her smile in kind. She had an air of innocence around her that Valerion did not want to disturb, but King's Landing was a pit of vipers, and Aegon wasn't exactly helping with his crude comments. Valerion's nephew sat on the couch opposite them with three puppies jumbled in his lap. He didn't seem to notice as they squealed and yapped at each other.

"But if I do die," Aegon said, "you'll name one after me, Gael?"

"Of course," Gael said.

"And if you do manage to succeed?" Valerion asked.

"Hopefully I'll get one named after me anyway." Aegon picked one of the puppies up and looked at it in the eye. He got his nose licked. "I mean, who wouldn't want a puppy named after them?"

A few names leapt to mind, but Valerion kept quiet. Those names had been from another time, another place, another life. There was no use in bringing them back up. But at times, unbidden, they came to the forefront of his mind, and even though he had long closed his heart to the pain, it felt as if they were a hundred old wounds never fully healed.

He wasn't sure if the others felt the same. If Aegon's careless bravado was an act or just his way of thinking. If Gaemon's cold austerity and seriousness was a mask for the pain or the solution thought up by a methodical mind.

He at times didn't know where the old him ended and the new him began.

He did know that dwelling on that line of thought for too long was not going to be of any use to anyone, so he forced himself to remain in the present. The puppies were an easy distraction, and Gael was forever content to play with them. She had one of the serving girls bring in some of the older ones, the ones their royal mother had gotten for Gael before she retired to Dragonstone. They were all masterly trained and obedient to a fault. Gaemon had his suspicions on how Gael had managed it so well, and Aegon went, "Maybe she's a warg," and the three of them had actually considered if for a second before shaking their heads, sipping their wine, and moving on to lighter topics.

But as Valerion sat on the couch and watched as Gael easily commanded her dogs to do all sorts of tricks and twirls, he thought back to that conversation. He wondered if there wasn't more than a hint of truth to their idle musing. Was it too farfetched? Yes, but if everything goes to plan, it won't matter at all at the end of the day. All Valerion wanted was to live a normal life and die in his sleep as an old man. He trusted that Gaemon's plan was going to work, and he didn't think of what would happen if it were to fail.

And when Aegon announced to the room that "playing with puppies isn't making me any less scared," and stood from his couch, Valerion quickly kissed Gael on the cheek and followed his nephew out the door and through the Red Keep.

"Do you have a plan?" he asked Aegon.

"No," said Aegon. "It's not like there's a handbook for this sorta thing."

"You're just going to wing it?"

"I prefer to call it a Hail Mary."

When they reached the stables, Valerion called for some of the household guard to ready up as Aegon went to see about his own horse, and when they left the Red Keep and made their way down Aegon's High Hill they were a party of twenty. Throughout the entire ride to the Dragonpit, Aegon said less than a handful of words. Valerion could see the worry etched into his face. No encouraging words came to mind, so they continued on in silence.

Aegon looked white like death by the time they reached the Dragonpit, but he leapt down from his horse all the same and swigged a drink of wine from a skin. He didn't look any better. "I was serious about having one of the puppies named after me," Aegon said to Valerion. "And make sure it's one of the good dog breeds. I don't want a lapdog named after me."

"I'll make sure one of the hunting dogs gets named after you," Valerion said.

Aegon nodded, tried to smile, then slapped Valerion on the shoulder before they all headed into the Dragonpit itself.

Vhagar hadn't been riderless for long, but as the Dragonkeepers quickly explained the habits and quirks of the old beast to Aegon, the sense of danger never truly went away. The last living dragon from the Conquest was so large that her flames could melt right through steel plate. Aegon chuckled nervously when he was offered any choice of armor right after learning that fact. He declined. "If I'm going to die by dragon fire," he said, "I want to be wearing something comfortable when I burn."

Vhagar's chamber was close to the surface, and all too soon they arrived at the doors. "It's best if I remain out here," Valerion said. "The presence of another dragonrider might spook her."

"My father once told me that he smacked Balerion on the snout when he visited the Dragonpit as a boy," Aegon said. "Told me later that it was the stupidest thing he'd ever done."

That earned a nervous chuckle from the Dragonkeepers, but soon that went away and they were all left with the sound of Dragonpit, the deep moans and groans of dragons further beneath their feet rising up at them. Aegon finished off the rest of his wine and tucked the skin into his belt. From where Valerion stood, it looked like Aegon mouthed "fuck it" before signaling for the doors to be opened.

Valerion could only watch with his arms crossed and fists clenched as Aegon took a torch and slowly made his way into Vhagar's chamber.

And when the she-dragon emerged from the depths and breathed a streak of dragon fire into the stone of the ceiling, the heat was so intense that Valerion felt it wash over him from where he stood, and he watched as Aegon threw his arms up to shield his face. His voice sounded small and echoed through the cavernous chamber, his High Valyrian strangled and halting.

He looked even smaller when Vhagar brought her face down to Aegon's level.

Then Valerion choked on his spit as he watched an empty skin of wine go flying through the air and hit Vhagar right on the snout.

"Oh sweet baby Jesus," Valerion muttered aloud as he watched with horrified fascination as Aegon was not eaten alive. "God has to be laughing at us, and George is spinning in his grave."

The others took no notice of Valerion's words, and Valerion didn't bother with an excuse for any who had heard him. They all watched as Aegon edged ever closer to Vhagar, closer and closer, until he could climb up the massive saddle and sit himself on the top.

And for such a massive and old creature, Vhagar moved surprisingly quickly when hastened, and Valerion quickly rushed out of the way with the others as the dragon turned and made for the ramp and the open air beyond. They heard Vhagar's roar before they reached the surface themselves, and when they left the Dragonpit itself, Vhagar and Aegon were already high above the city.

Later, by some miracle, Aegon managed to bring Vhagar back to the Dragonpit and not flatten some neighborhood within King's Landing. The Dragonkeepers led Vhagar back inside, but Aegon remained with Valerion, and he looked like he needed a drink.

"You okay?" Valerion asked.

Aegon shrugged. "I definitely pissed myself, and maybe shat myself too, but I'm a dragonrider now so, yeah, I'd say I'm okay."

Valerion didn't know whether to roll his eyes or sigh in relief.

"And I'm sure I'm going to enjoy whatever Gaemon has for us next a whole lot more," Aegon continued. "I'll take politics over dragon taming any day of the week."