Chapter Ten: Totally Not Reckless.

First Day of the Tenth Month, 111 AC.

My father, my first father always said that you had to seize an opportunity when it presented itself.

I always tried to take that to heart.

As I eyed the rising black behemoth in the distance and smelled the sea breeze of the Blackwater I knew that it was time.

I took in a deep and solemn breath before leaning over the side of the ship and continued to violently empty my stomach out.

Yap, I still hated sailing. The irony that I had hailed from a tropical island in my first life did not escape me.

The fact that the 'sea breeze' was coming from the west did not help much either.

"Perhaps it would be best for you to wait below deck," the living hernia that was Eberman Bulwer commented as he leaned against the rail of the ship and kept a weary hand clasped on my shoulder to keep me from going overboard should we hit a rough patch.

I eyed him with a look that was meant to be weathering but felt closer to exhaustion, "I will be fine, Eberman. If I cannot learn to stomach this then I might as well jump overboard now."

A child could get away with it but I needed to force myself to cope. Gravol was still a few centuries away at best while sharks smelling for weakness were around every corner.

With any luck I would soon have my means of warding but that was of no use at that moment. "We are almost there anyway."

"As you say," the living hernia said as the castle became more visible in the horizon.

Dragonstone, traditional home to the Targaryens and the only Valyrian forged castle in Westeros (I was steadfastly ignoring the eldritch abomination that was my other ancestral home, I could worry about cthulu later.).

Between the great shapes of stone dragons, thousands of spikes and the ever more visible gargoyles I could only think of one word to describe the castle for metaphorically and quite literally.

Edgy.

It was as if someone had taken a magnificent castle of unholy size, covered it in glue and then dipped it in a vat of spikes, teenage angst and a certain program from the mid-nineties before painting it black. To be fair that had been the Valyrian style but honestly only mother Valyria herself had ever had such an insane hard-on for gargoyles and spikes.

Maybe Aenor had wanted to make his family's new dwelling as 'homey' as possible? Seriously though, I liked dragons as much as the next guy but it was a little offensive in terms of the sheer number of gargoyles and spikes. Arguably, it was still better than what I had seen on the show where it was just a bunch of squares that made it clear that Mother Russia had lent their aid in its construction.

My brooding over the tackiness of my ancestral home was interrupted by the twin shadows of Caraxes and Syrax dancing over the castle.

"They arrived already," I noted sourly.

"They have dragons," my bull answered with a shrug. "It would be stranger if they delayed."

He had the right of it, Daemon had been at court for eight months. Eight. He had only stayed half a year in the Rogue Prince! Mushroom insisted that he had not seen them engaging in anything unseemly but there was no denying that uncle and niece spent a great deal of time together, Daemon had finally wizened up an exploited the fact that I could not follow on dragon rides so I was being thoroughly crippled in my ability to act. I would suspect that they had already gone too far but for the fact that the implication was clear in the sources that Daemon had clearly wanted to be found out and force a marriage.

In any case it was grating that the first major change I had managed to ripple out had been this, I mean come on! At least in most of the stories I used to read the ripples were at least initially beneficial.

As we approached the crowded docks the King and our family emerged from below deck to greet the throng of people waiting there.

I wish I could say that I had managed to get here on my own but sadly I had come here with the entire court in preparation for a small feast celebrating Aenor's flight from Valyria, a custom held by house Targaryen every ten years (when the family was not busy tearing itself apart). It still befuddled me that I had been there for so long that a feast of several hundred people could be counted as 'small,' madness I say.

Still it presented me with an opportunity, I was going to get my dragon or die trying.

Actually, getting my dragon or get my bodyguard maimed in the attempt was better.

Actually, even better would be to persuade Rhaenyra to lend me Ser Criston so that I could Leonidas-kick him into the volcano.

It was not bloody likely as Rhaenyra's crush on Ser Criston was beginning to get a little excessive, she was even resorting to glaring daggers at anyone who even paid the man a compliment. I found that to be a little excessive since clearly all the fault lay in Ser Criston's unwillingness to scrub his face off with sandpaper in order to alleviate many of the world's problems.

He did not even need to do it himself, I would gladly volunteer to find a few pointy rocks and let him do a joker impression!

I shook my head, now was not the time to focus on Cole. Dragons are what matters right now… My thought process ran to a stop as I looked up.

Holy mother of Tolkien!

It emerged from the shadowed sky and eclipsed the world under its great wings, green-black as its titanic frame freed itself from the mists of the sea.

My jaw hung so low that I was fairly sure it was about to break off as I saw the massive form fly over us and towards the castle.

Vhagar, last of the conquerors dragons. A beast that had gorged long on the flesh of man and had a temper to match.

"It seems that young Laena has arrived for the feast!" Viserys commented loudly and happily.

Damn everything! Daemon had already entirely too many ripples going in his favor! Now he got to seduce Laena a decade ahead of schedule as well?

"Something troubles you?" Eberman asked quietly from behind me and I almost jumped in surprise. For a giant of a man the damned bull was exceptionally good at vanishing from one's awareness.

I shook my head to collect myself before picking up my step to stay in line with royal procession, "Nothing of consequence, I am merely surprised that Lady Laena would attend the feat with her father and mother away."

Eberman snorted quietly as he helped me on to the pony that had been brought for me (refreshingly, this one had no desire to bite off my hand), "I would not presume to know her motives."

"Of course, you would not," I sighed in annoyance. Why did I bother consulting with him?

Oh right, his honor was only as good as my not being dead.

"Do note," He added. "She rides Vhagar and she is not too old."

"You point?" I ask as we ride up the trail.

The bull scratches his lantern jaw for a moment, "Older matches have been made."

Despite myself I chuckle, "She is near thirteen years my senior. You are right in that it would be advantageous but given the current strife between the dragon and the seahorse, that old seasnake is more likely to see it as a slight."

Eberman frowned, "As you say."

"Besides focus is needed now," I chided. "We must move this very night if we are to see our business done."

…

As we entered the courtyard I felt distinctly interested in the… pack? Flight? Screw it, the flock of dragons which were around us with few restraints keeping them from snacking on the veritable feast that scurrying about around them.

It was closer to Valyria of old than the glorified prison that was the Dragonpit.

Granted, Valyria of old also had far more infrastructure to make dragon-maintenance tenable but that was a different argument.

It amused my quite a lot that I was staring at the varying stages of a dragon's lifespan from the still somewhat young Syrax to the adult Caraxes to the ancient bulk of Vhagar.

Watching the dragon from so close was interesting but it was also oddly disappointing.

The dreams and even my experiences with Meleys had shown very animate and clever behemoths, some of which were even larger than the dragon I starred at in the yard.

For one Vhagar's eyes were strangely vacant, they scanned the surroundings frantically but never really seemed to look at anything for long. Her size was also odd, her frame looked more hulking than large where the beasts in the dream were far more lithe and graceful in build. It seemed that such was the end result of too much man-flesh.

Still, she was quite the size and a brawler through and through judging from the long patchwork revealed in the cracks and scratches made visible whenever her scales were hit by light. Even her fidgeting hinted at an existence defined by battle and weathering hundreds of battles. I might have focused too much on looking over the great dragon because I did not notice her rider make her way to the dismounting royal party until she had gotten to greeting me.

"And this must be the little Prince Gaemon!" The tall girl of seventeen said as she stopped in front of me while I dismounted with the aid of my shield.

Unsurprisingly she was beautiful. At this point I had been exposed to such a long progression of incredibly handsome men and women as of late that it had begun to stop being that notable of a feature.

Beyond that she was very tall and if I had to wager not one given to shame given that greeting a royal party in riding leathers does seem like something of a misstep given the society we were unfortunately in.

She was also nowhere near as thin as she was described if I recall correctly, definitely slight but her musculature seemed developed along the lines one would expect from someone who spends a lot of time riding. Over all she definitely seemed like Rhaenys's daughter.

I idly wondered why I had to focus on keep my eyes at an appropriate level, I should not have had hormones yet!

"A pleasure to meet you my lady," I bow politely. As I looked up again I saw Daemon approaching entirely too close to Rhaenyra while eyeing Laena like a starved wolf would at a steak strapped onto an especially slow grease-covered baby.

I really should not have been surprised by that point.

"And a polite one too!" She smiled at me brightly, it was a nice smile but also one that I mistrusted given what I knew of her. Then again I had also given up on not feeling that whenever I met new people.

As far as smiles went, she had a nice one. Bright eyes, her pointed nose wrinkling just enough and her lips pulled back to show white teeth.

An exceptional actress, had I not been imminently concerned for my survival I might have found her charming.

But cute and beautiful were not exactly likely to work when she stood in front of her monstrosity of army-killing while being eyed by a man who would like as not soon have her wrapped around his finger.

"Ah, cousin Laena!" Rhaenyra said as she hugged and kissed the older girl in line with protocol. The lanky Laena had to bend down a little to kiss her back. "It has been a while."

Immediately, they launched into a conversation which I did not really follow as I was busy eyeing the rogue dick who was now eyeing both of them like a drooling dog.

Seriously? Was I the only one that saw a problem there?

As I looked around it seemed that the only other person remotely concerned was Ser Criston who was eyeing Daemon with a murderous look and Mushroom who as usual looked a lot like a journalist taking notes for his sleazy tabloid.

Which, in fairness, was sort of his career trajectory.

"Gaem! Gaem!" Aegon said as he ran over to me. "Look! Dragons!"

It… did not say promising things about Aegon that he was pointing at one of the dragon-shaped towers instead of the many creatures we were surrounded by.

I patted my twin affectionately on the shoulder, I was a little taller than him already but that meant precious little in children. "Only on fan forums Aeg, only on fan forums."

"What 'fo rums'?" Aeg (sorry 5th, in fairness you might not even be born so don't hold it against me) said with his brows knit in confusion.

"It's nothing, brother. Nothing at all," I would have kids someday, I decided solemnly. It would be nice to have a child or two to corrupt with references and memes.

"But look! Dragons everywhere!" Predictably enough his attention span did not last long enough to query as to what I meant.

"Indeed Aeg, they were also here last time," I sighed, we had been there just last year!

Maybe he did not remember?

"Huh? Dragons are new!" Aeg insisted.

I smile at him, "Of course Aeg, do not go see them yet. Be sure to wait for supervision."

I heard a cough poorly disguising a chuckle behind me. I did not think that I had ever heard Ebermen laugh before.

Aegon was actually four while I was in my late thirties if you added time here and my original life, I was allowed to be dotting.

No sooner had I said it that our nannies appeared out of nowhere to seize the young boy and carry him off the bathe for the night's feast. Like most children Aegon was not a big fan of baths.

I myself was bathing twice a day by that point, fear of bacteria meant that I bathed in water hot enough to mildly bother a Targaryen to try and burn off bacteria. An amusing benefit of the constant parties was that most of the court was doing it to where they would usually be far more irregular between parties. Leave it to Viserys to accidentally turn hedonism into a health benefit.

Regrettably, Nessa had been rather insistent that I could not bathe myself despite evidence to the contrary.

Which was uncomfortable given that I had failed to convince the blond nanny that someone else should probably take over that duty.

Still, a touch of awkwardness was better than dying of rabies or whatever else was in the water.

…

The feast went as all others before it did. People drank more than they should have and singers sang of old Valyria and its many wonders, if Runciter was well enough to travel or Barth had been there, then I would suspect that the singers would get a fork through their throats for the sheer amount of inaccuracies they were spouting.

Seriously, they managed to turn a strategic retreat from danger by a branch of weak family into 'the brave Aenor' heeding the sage warnings of his daughter and abandoning the 'godless and infinitely cruel' land of Valyria where the Targaryens had been 'most envied of all' to 'fair' Dragonstone and closer to the 'sweet wisdom' of the Seven.

I eyed my fork with homicidal intent. If Joffrey could get away, why shouldn't I?

I mean sweet gods man have some tact, this is not a propaganda piece as it is breaking history on the wheel while forcing it to watch a basket of puppies get Victarion-ed.

It mildly depressed me that the only ones' other than Alicent to look like they were considering the same thing were Ser Cole and Daemon. Cole rolled his eyes while Daemon frowned and was tapping the hilt of Darksister with increasing regularity.

Hmm… perhaps I could convince them to sacrifice themselves to lure the singers into a pit filled with sharps with laser beams strapped onto their heads.

Or tiny dragons with lasers strapped to their heads… No that would be silly to say nothing of how redundant strapping a laser to a flamethrower was.

In all seriousness, it was profoundly depressing that neither of the men could be blithering idiots. I knew well-enough from my lessons that Cole was a stickler for details and had little patience for deceit (which begged a considerable and amount of questions) while Daemon was a far better writer than Runciter and had a remarkable knack for linguistics.

Perhaps I would make a note of those traits on their tombstones?

It came as a sweet relief when the feast was finally over and I could finally excuse myself back to my chamber, which at my request was not actually the nursery.

Everyone had assumed it another childish thing when I asked for a chamber low in the castle with a window and like most of my requests, it was easily granted.

I was going to miss being able to get away with things. There was no way in hell that I would get away with it after that night, which also meant that I could not afford to screw up.

"I am still unsure of this," Eberman said, eyeing the mug of ale suspiciously as I changed into the servant's garb that he had appropriated from the castle.

"Must I explain this again?" I was tall for my age, enough to pass for a short six or seven-year-old as long as I stayed away from the light.

"No," Eberman sighed. "It is the chance of your failure that concerns me."

"I have studied this material for months Eberman. I understand what I am about to do better than any child to ever attempt it did, you saw for yourself that precedent clearly favors youthful riders," Skullcap check.

Eberman rocked his cup, "Perhaps if I came with-"

"We've been over that," I grunted as I pulled on my climbing gloves. "They will react poorly if they feel threatened."

"Even so-"

"To say nothing of how much trouble you will be in if it is assumed that you are a willing participant," Good boots laced, check.

Eberman grunted, "My honor does not demand that I remain employed or that I stay unharmed."

This again.

"If honor is the issue then consider that I am dead unless I have a dragon, you understand this," I looked over my shoulder as I adjusted my cloaked and met the bull's green eyes.

"Indeed but-"

"And if you come along you will be an impediment before you are an aid," I looked myself over in the mirror and nodded, good enough.

I smiled as I pulled on my satchel, I was getting sort of excited.

"Besides, I might dislike you ser but I would rather not weaken myself by having you stripped from me," honeyed words would be wasted on him anyway, he knew I was inclined to do things that served my interests alone.

"As you say," my shield nodded. "Although I doubt that will save me from Nessa coming after me with an axe."

I stopped for a moment and looked at the shield before snorting and shaking my head.

"Good then," I said with a smile as I reached into the satchel and pulled out a carefully wrapped little bundle and emptied the powder within into the ale. "I will have need of a shield in the Seven Hells."

I sat across the table and raised my goblet of water.

"Well then, Ser Bulwer," I raised my cup. "Should we never meet again in this world may I see you in whatever hells await after!"

"May you return alive," Bulwer tapped my goblet with his mug. "And may your dragon prove half the burden you are."

We both emptied our cups in one long drink before bringing them down onto the table. I wasted no time in pulling myself up from the table even as Bulwer began to sway and finally come down onto the floor.

I quickly made my way out the window and down the small drop to the ground before scurrying off while avoiding the guards until I was safely on the right path.

I hope the drug I got from Runciter would last a while, I had insisted that I was having a very hard time sleeping and the plan required him to wake up and rally the castle immediately. I needed to by nice and away by then, hopefully with my objective completed.

That gave me only a few minutes before Nessa or one of the other nannies found the sleeping bull.

Or dead, that was also a distinct possibility.

As I eyed the long path up to the hatchery closest to the castle I sighed, this had the potential to really suck. I needed a dragon but my legs felt heavy now.

I did not want to die and that was a distinct possibility even if not terribly likely.

I took a deep breath and muttered to myself.

"Come on Gaem, nothing ventured and all that."

And so I set off up the mountain.

Totally not pissing myself in fear or anything of the sort.