The Princess and the Queen 25: The Dragon's Daughter
"Dragons!" Visenya exclaimed.
"What about them?" yawned Baelon, running his hands through his golden locks.
"How is it, riding a dragon? The feeling of it?" she asked, with all the glee and excitement an eight-year-old had.
"Well, the last time I told you, the feeling of riding dragons still hasn't changed."
"Well, if I had a dragon," frowned Visenya. "I would know, but I don't."
"You will, soon!" exclaimed Joffrey, grabbing her hand.
"As will you!" she replied, squeezing her older brother's hand tightly in response. "You still haven't told us, Baelon."
"You already know," Baelon sighed. "Besides, why all the excitement?"
"I'm always excited about dragons!" Visenya said, crossing her arms.
"Don't you remember, Baelon?" asked Viserys. "We have our lessons today, with the keepers!"
"Oh," he said. "That's boring."
"You find everything boring!" complained Visenya.
"I don't find everything boring!" Baelon protested. "I just don't need lessons on how to control Sunfyre."
"The keepers always say that for the dragon to obey, you must command it," said Viserys, imitating their father's mannerisms.
"Well, the keepers don't know what they are talking about. They have never ridden a dragon. If I want Sunfyre to obey, Sunfyre shall obey. If I want Sunfyre to breathe fire, Sunfyre shall breathe fire. If I want Sunfyre to fly, Sunfyre shall land. I don't need commands. We're bonded, and he knows my every feeling, thought, and wish," he said, his green eyes that shone as bright as his matching green and gold doublet. Visenya knew that her eldest brother cared for little in the world, but his dragon was one of the few things he loved dearly.
"If you can control Sunfyre with just your mind, then make him fly up to here!" dared Joffrey, even though it was a trick Baelon routinely did to entertain his siblings.
"Very well," smirked Baelon. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.
Within moments, a shrill screech ruptured the air. The sound of flapping and roars got closer and closer, until a whoosh was heard above them.
Suddenly, a loud rumbling was heard above them, which shook the ground underneath them. Maester Gerardys, who was entering the hall, was so startled he dropped all the books he was carrying.
Baelon grinned at all of them and closed his eyes again. Then, another rumble was heard along with Sunfyre's roar.
The dragon then sailed by the side of the great hall, its golden scales flashing through the tiny window slits. Its glow blinded Visenya, and she gasped as if it was her first time seeing a dragon. She covered her eyes with the silver sleeves of her dress but still tried to peek through, to get a glimpse of her brother's magnificent beast.
Soon… I shall have my own dragon, and the four of us shall fly together!
"You scare all the servants by doing this stunt, my prince," explained Maester Gerardys, grumbling as he walked up to the table, still struggling with the books. "You must tone this down, before someone gets hurt."
"But it's fun," frowned Baelon.
"Maester Gerardys… do you require aid with the books? It does look heavy," asked Joffrey, quickly leaving his seat and grabbing two books from the maester's pile, his maroon doublet gently flapping in the winds as he did.
"Thank you, Joff," smiled the maester. "I do appreciate it."
"If you needed aid with the books, why did you not ask for it?" Baelon asked, grinning at Viserys, who grinned in return.
"Very funny, Baelon," sighed Maester Gerardys, plopping his pile of books on the stone table with a thud.
"My thanks, Maester!" smiled Baelon. "It is my goal, to entertain all those around me!"
Viserys let out a little chuckle whilst Visenya just rolled her eyes. She appreciated Baelon's japes, but at times he did take it a bit far.
"As I was saying, Viserys," Baelon said, turning to his brother. "Even you could do the same with Arrax, if you tried very hard."
"Really?" he asked excitedly. "It does seem difficult, even though you manage to do it all the time with ease."
"Nonsense, brother! It's just in your mind! You have an unbreakable bond with your dragon, and you just have to put your mind to it!" laughed Baelon, pinching Viserys' cheeks until they turned as red as his tunic. "Your mind!"
Visenya tried to do the same with her dragon egg. She prayed over it and imagined the egg hatching in her mind, but it was still to no avail.
I will have a dragon soon; I know it!
Since she was old enough to remember, dragons had fascinated her. Whether that was reading about them, talking about them, or witnessing the winged beasts in action. She would imagine herself atop a gigantic dragon with wings the size of cities, soaring in the clouds, and her hair blowing in the wind.
Mother and Father always take me on their dragons, but I want to ride one myself!
The day was coming; she felt it. Whether her dragon would be the one in her little egg, or a dragon tamed from the Dragonmont, she would be a dragonrider.
I am the blood of the dragon - it is only right!
"What are we studying today, Maester Gerardys?" asked Viserys, when the maester had finally finished organising the books across the table.
"Well, my little princelings," he said, his voice soft and calm. "We shall go over the houses of Westeros, as well as the histories!"
"Boring!" groaned Baelon.
"Quite the contrary, little prince," the maester countered, trying to sound enthusiastic. "I find the subject quite fascinating.
"Well, I find it boring," Baelon sighed, putting his feet up on the grey table.
"You find everything boring!" complained Visenya.
"Now that is a bare-faced lie, little sister!" he laughed. "I find plenty of things interesting!"
"You find training boring, you find sums boring, you find philosophy boring," recounted Joffrey, smirking. "What don't you find boring?"
"You forgot the most interesting study out there!" Baelon said, stretching his arms out. "The study of wine!"
"We are not old enough to drink wine, so I am not familiar with it," said Viserys.
"Well," Baelon replied, more excited about this than just about anything else. "If I were you, I would count down the days until Mother lets you all drink it. I do thank the gods for making such a heavenly drink!"
"I think you are still too young to drink it, too," frowned Visenya. "And you do drink too much of it, regardless."
"Well, Mother does limit me to a cup a day," he replied, lowering his voice. "But don't tell her that Ser Robert gives me more in secret," he whispered, winking at her.
"Father said it dulls the senses," Viserys said.
"Well, your father is boring!" scoffed Baelon. "Besides, he loves the drink as much as I do!"
"Your siblings have the right of it, Prince Baelon," Maester Gerardys said softly. "Wine is good, only in moderation. And get your boots off the table; it is bad manners."
"Very well, maester," said Baelon, rolling his eyes.
"Thank you, my prince," the maester smiled. "Now, where were we?"
"Histories and the Great Houses!" Viserys announced.
Ever the student, my twin brother.
"Thank you, Prince Viserys," said the maester, clapping his hands. "So, my princelings, I set a task for you the last time we convened. I told you of four different houses, their lords, their seats, their sigils, and their words. I shall give you all a hint, in that the four lords currently on Dragonstone to treat with your mother belong to those houses."
"Oh, this is easy," yawned Baelon. "They are Westerlanders, like always."
"Two of the four are from the West, correct, Baelon," nodded Maester Gerardys. "But two are not."
"That was an easy guess," moaned Joffrey, putting his hand on his chin to think about the answer.
"It was not! I just am a good student, remembering what Maester Gerardys teaches," smiled Baelon smugly, crossing his arms.
"Well, if you do remember them so well, where were the other two houses from?" the maester questioned.
"Oh, oh! I know it now!" gasped Viserys, raising his hand.
"No, let Prince Baelon answer this," said the maester. "If he is so confident about this."
"It must be a Riverlander house, or a Crownlander, as always," Baelon shrugged.
"Wrong and wrong, Baelon," the maester responded. "You know that your mother's Crownlander friends are permanent residents of this island."
"Ah… yes… I am mistaken," conceded Baelon, his cheeks turning rosy.
"Were the two houses Corbray of Heart's Home and Belmore of Strongsong, maester?" Viserys asked eagerly.
"Correct, Prince Viserys!" smiled Maester Gerardys.
"Well, I knew the other two," Baelon grumbled. "It was Farman of Fair Isle. Their words are The Wind Our Steed, and their sigil is three ships on a field of blue, bordered by gold and red. And the other was Tarbeck of Tarbeck Hall. Know Us By Our Faith are their words, and they have a seven-pointed star in blue and silver for their sigil."
"Well remembered, Prince Baelon," the maester said proudly, a smile on his face. "Do you remember who their lords are, as well as their lords of the past?"
"Lord Myles is the Lord of Fair Isle. He's nice, he gave me and Joff a model ship," answered Baelon. "Whilst Lord Adrian is the head of House Tarbeck. He's not as nice."
"Why did Lord Myles not give me and Visenya a model ship?" frowned Viserys.
"Because our father was Lord of Casterly Rock, and our Uncle Tyland is the castellan," replied Baelon.
Visenya had only seen Ser Tyland Lannister, who everyone seemed to talk about, once or twice. The last time was almost a year prior when the man brought a whole delegation of Westerlanders to feast with Visenya's mother in the great hall. She remembered that Ser Tyland made sure to shower his nephews with gifts when he came, but also didn't forget a gift for Visenya or Viserys.
"Yes, and we are to marry Uncle Tyland's daughters," added Joffrey, pleased with the thought.
"Aye, Joffrey. When you become of age as the Lord of the Rock, part of your duties shall be to marry Lady Tyshara, just as your older brother shall marry Lady Cerelle," nodded the maester.
"Ah, I can imagine you, Joff, as the great Lord of the West, a lion roaring over your dominion. But for now, you are still a little cub to me!" grinned Baelon, ruffling Joffrey's curly brown hair.
"Now, back on topic," said the maester. "Does anyone remember the details about Houses Corbray and Belmore?"
Visenya would have known the answer, but her mind began to wander off, to the thoughts of dragons, and the many songs and stories dedicated to those fearsome beasts.
If every lesson was about dragons, I would be even better than Viserys!
"Visenya?" he asked, bringing Visenya back to the hall. Her imaginary dragons had to wait. Maester Gerardys always knows when my mind wanders. "Do you know what the sigil of House Corbray is?"
"It was a crow carrying three hearts, was it?" asked Visenya, still thinking about dragons.
"You are close," smiled the maester. "It is three crows, each of which carrying a heart. Do you remember what the words are?"
"Something droll, I'd wager," mumbled Baelon.
"The Valemen are some of your mother's most loyal friends, Baelon," Maester Gerardys said, shaking his head and wagging his finger at the thirteen-year-old.
"Doesn't stop them from being so boring. How many times do they have to tell us about their honour and decency and chivalry?" he asked, which garnered a chuckle from Viserys. "The Westerlanders are much more fascinating."
"You only say that because you are half Lannister," laughed Visenya.
"The Valemen are plenty interesting, too, Baelon!" Joffrey protested. "They have the bravest knights in the realm! Maester Gerardys, please tell us about the Winged Knights again; I do love that story!"
"Another day, Joff," the maester said warmly, patting Joffrey's head. "Or after we have completed today's studies."
The Winged Knights of the Vale first rose to fame when a legion of those knights broke the Siege of Riverrun, hundreds of years ago. It was a famous tale, and Visenya knew it like the back of her hand, most because Joffrey loved hearing it all the time.
He has always loved his battles and fights and duels.
Joffrey was more a boy of the training yard, who loved hacking and slashing away with Ser Lorent and Ser Arryk. Despite this, he was always as attentive as Viserys during lessons, especially when the lesson concerned martial matters.
Visenya didn't share her brother's passion for battles, however. She found the topic mildly interesting but thought that battles were magnitudes more interesting when dragons were involved.
Everything is more interesting when dragons are involved.
Her mind returned to the battles she had learnt about, specifically those involving dragons. There was the Battle Beneath the God's Eye, the Field of Fire, and the Third Dornish War. All of which were tremendously one-sided, but that was the case when one side had the power of dragons.
"Visenya? Did you hear my question?" Maester Gerardys asked.
"Yes, of course I did," she lied.
"What was it then?" he asked as Baelon snorted in laughter. "Gods, Princess, you are becoming like your older brother, not paying full attention during your studies."
"That is a good thing, by the way," Baelon whispered, winking at her.
"You asked about the sigils of Houses Corbray and Belmore," Visenya said, hoping she was correct.
"I did, five minutes ago," the maester sighed. "We have moved on. I asked if you knew what the words of House Arryn were."
"As High As Honour," shrugged Visenya. "That one was easy."
"See? I told you they love to harp on about their honour," said Baelon, raising his eyebrows.
"And what is the distinctive look of the Arryns?" Maester Gerardys asked, ignoring Baelon's jape.
"They have blond hair and blue eyes," Visenya replied.
"Very good, Princess," smiled the maester. "As you are aware already, most houses have distinctive appearances. The most well-known are the Targaryens with silver-gold hair and purple eyes, but there are also the Starks with brown hair and grey eyes, or Lannisters with golden hair and green eyes."
"If Lannisters have golden hair and green eyes, why do I have brown hair and eyes?" Joffrey asked nervously.
"The gods work in mysterious ways, Joff," explained the maester. "Not always do the look of the parents pass onto the children. Good Queen Alysanne, for example, did not have the silver hair of King Aenys and Queen Mother Alyssa, but had the blonde hair of her Massey grandmother. Sometimes, rules are broken."
"Rules are to be broken?" gasped Baelon, his green eyes glowing and his smile wide. "Pray tell, Maester Gerardys, have you been replaced by an imposter? I never thought those words would ever be uttered by you!"
"You know what I am referring to, Prince Baelon," sighed the maester, who was clearly growing tired of Baelon's japes. "When you are king one day, you must have knowledge of your subjects. How else are you to govern the realm?"
"That is quite some years away, I do hope. But when I am king, the people shall love me for who I am!" declared Baelon, flicking his long golden hair over his shoulder. "I shall win them over with my charm and grace! I needn't have to know the son of this minor lord and the daughter of that hedge knight. I have a voice sweeter than a bard, and I look comelier than a maiden! Baelon the Beautiful is what they shall call me! Baelon the Brilliant!"
"Baelon the Lazy, more like," whispered Visenya, who just burst into laughter at the comment.
"Mayhaps, but both can be true!" he chuckled.
As brilliant as he can be, he is twice as lazy!
"Why do we never study houses from the Stormlands, North, or Iron Islands?" asked Viserys. "And only some from the Reach and Riverlands?"
"Well, Viserys, you shall study them when you grow older," replied Maester Gerardys. "But the houses we learn about are your mother's close friends, and it is best to know your friends and allies best."
"Are the houses we don't learn about friends of the Queen, then?" asked Viserys innocently.
"Friends of Mother's half-brother, too," Baelon added, his smile replaced by a frown.
He sometimes does that, but I do not know why.
Whilst Baelon was mostly jovial and full of japes and laughs, there would be times when his japes would suddenly stop, and he would become distant. His voice would become croaky, and his eyes seemed to have tears bubbling in there. It wasn't often, and it wasn't often, either, but it did make Visenya somewhat uneasy.
Mayhaps when I am bigger, I shall understand why he does that.
"Why is it that some houses and friends of Mother and some are not?" Viserys also asked.
"My, my, Prince Viserys!" laughed the maester. "You are full of questions, aren't you? Again, it is a subject you shall be more familiar with when you grow older, as well."
Visenya didn't know why, which made sense as she was the same age as Viserys. However, she did think it was to do with the last trip they had to King's Landing. Her memory of it was hazy, and none of Mother, Father, or Baelon wished to speak of it much, but she remembered that it wasn't a nice time.
Grandfather became really ill, and then there was an argument, and there was that man who was punished, and then Viserys hatched Arrax.
It had started out pleasantly, but became much less so following her grandfather's illness. After that, she remembered numerous arguments between her parents and the Queen or the Hand. Visenya didn't understand why they argued so much, but figured that it was something to do with adult matters.
A bit like that book Baelon had; that was to do with adult matters, wasn't it?
Some weeks ago, Maester Gerardys had confiscated a book that he caught Baelon reading. Visenya did not know what the contents of the book pertained, as nobody let her see it, but she knew that it must not have been very pleasant, as the maester gave Baelon a stern reprimand following the ordeal.
Visenya just shrugged and turned her mind to more exciting subjects, like dragons. She tried to remember the dream she had some nights ago, when she flew on a great dragon with scales made of pure silver, dancing over King's Landing with another dragon even more enormous than hers. It seemed nice, but for some reason, it made her shiver whenever she tried to remember it, which wasn't the usual with any other dream she had.
Eventually, she gave up trying to remember the dream and decided to just focus on the lessons with Maester Gerardys. It was quite mundane, but she sat through it all, keenly answering questions, whilst Baelon made japes, Joffrey asked about battles, and Viserys nodded along eagerly.
"Now, that is all for today's lesson," smiled the maester as Baelon groaned in relief. "Your next lesson shall be in three days, where we shall discuss battles, tactics, and the most famous battle commanders ever known to men."
"Yes!" cheered Joffrey, stretching his arms out and punching the air. "I cannot wait!"
Maester Gerardys just smiled and patted the boy on the back, before taking his great pile of books and leaving the hall.
"Thank you for your lessons, Maester Gerardys!" Viserys called as the man left the hall, which Visenya and Joffrey repeated.
"Thank you, maester!" Baelon also said, which made the maester turn and smile. Even if Baelon was disruptive during lessons, he did make sure to thank the maester after every one.
As much as my big brother hates to admit it, he has a heart of gold.
"We finished early today," noted Viserys, looking out the window slits and the clear skies behind the stone walls.
"And I thank every god in the Seven Kingdoms that we did!" announced Baelon, raising his hands as if he was praying in the sept.
"We could have looked at another house," Viserys replied.
"Any more houses and I would have fallen asleep, in truth," he groaned. "I do love Maester Gerardys as if he was mine own father, but gods, learning about House Whoever from Wherever can be grim, at times."
"It can be interesting if you show more interest in it," frowned Visenya. "I think you would be quite clever, if you focused more."
"Did Maester Gerardys say that to you?" asked Baelon, squinting. "Or was it Ser Alfred… or your father?
He doesn't want to truly accept that he can be clever if he tried more.
"It was me that said it!" exclaimed Visenya.
"I agree with Visenya," whispered Joffrey. "I think that if you were more focused in lessons, and in the yard… we would like it more."
Viserys also nodded, which made Baelon frown. His eyes became distant for a moment, like they usually did, until he just chuckled and shook his head.
"Oh…" he said... "If you all truly agree… then I would try harder, for your sakes… to be a better big brother for you all."
"And for Maester Gerardys, he would really like it too," added Viserys.
"Mother would, too," said Visenya, even though she knew Baelon was their mother's favourite child.
"But you have to promise us," Joffrey said.
"I'll promise to try," Baelon replied, his face somewhere between a smile and a frown.
The conversation then moved onto more jovial topics, and then to dragons, which is where most conversations seemed to end up these days.
"Gods… I can't wait until me and Joff get dragons, too," said Visenya. "Then the four of us can all fly together, above the Dragonmont and even above the seas!"
"It will happen soon, I know," said Baelon, smiling warmly at Visenya and Joffrey.
"How long is soon?" moaned Visenya. "My egg still shows no sign of hatching, and I have had the egg since I was little."
"You are still little," laughed Baelon.
"It is better than getting a new egg every year because the last becomes cold…" Joffrey whispered.
"Hm, that is true," sighed Visenya. She did feel a lot of sympathy for her older brother, since they had both wished for years and years for their eggs to hatch, but they didn't. At least she was slightly luckier than him and had the same egg as the one placed in her cradle so long ago. "Having an egg is better than having no egg, however."
"Who doesn't have an egg?" asked Viserys, confused.
"Prince Aemon, from King's Landing, remember?" said Visenya, thinking about the princeling she was to marry. It had been so long since she saw him, all those years ago. Even though he did have a foul temper at times, Visenya still found him funny and didn't mind marrying him when she was older.
"Oh. Him," scoffed Viserys.
My brothers and Aemon couldn't stop arguing with each other all those years ago.
"I hope he never gets an egg," Joffrey said bluntly.
"Why not?" laughed Baelon. "What is the issue with your future goodbrother?"
"I hate him," Viserys replied. "He's mean. He used to keep hitting us, and then he would scream when we told him to stop it."
"He even called me ugly because I had brown hair," Joffrey said. "He is not nice."
"He was never mean to me," Visenya said, still trying to convince her brothers to like Aemon.
"He was never mean to you because he is to marry you!" protested Viserys.
"Why didn't you both tell me that Prince Aemon was being mean to you all those years ago?" asked Baelon. "I would have made him stop."
"We did tell you," Viserys replied. "But I don't know why you didn't."
"It was so long ago, I can hardly remember," sighed Joffrey.
"I think you said you were busy," said Viserys.
"Ah, busy…" Baelon said, gulping and bowing his head. His eyes became sad like they often did, and he let out a breath. "I should have been there…"
"Next time you will be, though?" Joffrey asked.
"I hope I never see him again!" declared Viserys.
"That would be difficult, since Visenya is to marry him," Baelon reminded.
"Maybe he has become nicer now?" Visenya asked, hardly believing what she was saying. "It has been so many years since then."
"I doubt it," grumbled Joffrey.
"If he can be nice to me… then he can be nice to you both…"
"People that are nice to some and mean to most are mean people," Baelon whispered.
"Maybe if we marry?" pleaded Visenya.
"It's not like those stories where the fair maid makes the evil bandit a good man due to her beauty and fairness," Joffrey said. "As your big brother, I will not let you marry him!"
As nice as Aemon was to me, I care for my brothers more than anything.
"It is in many years from now; mayhaps Mother can stop the marriage from happening," Baelon said.
"That would be good," Viserys nodded.
"Ah! Seven hells!" Baelon gasped, leaping from his seat.
"Maester Gerardys said not to say that!" replied Viserys, shaking his head.
"What is it?" asked Joffrey.
"We are late for dragon lessons, Viserys," Baelon laughed as he pushed his wooden chair back into the small table.
"Since when did you care about being late?" giggled Visenya.
"Since the dragonkeepers shout at him!" Joffrey laughed.
"I want more time with Sunfyre, that's why," shrugged Baelon. "Come, Viserys, last of us there has to clean the dragon dung!" he announced, sprinting out of the hall.
"That's not fair!" shouted Viserys, chasing after his older brother.
When they both were out of the hall, Visenya turned to Joffrey.
"I do wish we can join them soon," she said. "Even if it means cleaning the dragon dung."
"Cleaning the dragon dung was a lie made by your father to scare us into not being late," replied Joffrey. "Do you want to go see the eggs?"
"Very well!" said Visenya happily as they set off to the Sea Dragon Tower, where the living quarters were. Instead of running, they walked calmly, each step echoing off the great stone walls of the hall until they exited into the middle bailey.
They passed by Ser Alfred, who was training a group of young Westerlander squires. The knight nodded at both of them before returning to chastising the lads.
Joffrey stopped to watch the training session, but Visenya quickly tugged at his doublet so he wouldn't get engrossed and forget where they were going.
"Ser Alfred is a better fighter than Ser Robert, but that's because Ser Robert is old. Maybe a younger Ser Robert would have beaten him," Joffrey said, as Visenya just nodded along.
"Really?" she asked. In truth, she didn't have much interest in any of it, but it would make her brother happy if she showed enthusiasm too.
"Yes!" he eagerly replied. "That being said, both pale compared to the Kingsguard knights. Ser Arryk has a harder hit, whilst Ser Lorent can defend better."
"I like Ser Robert because he smiles and gives me a sweet whenever I see him," Visenya added.
"Ser Robert is very nice, but that doesn't make him good at teaching swordsmanship," replied Joffrey. "However, I do like it when he gives me sweets too."
"He promised to give me ten sweets if I win my wager with Viserys," she said, as they walked past the armoury.
"Ten sweets?" he gasped. "What was the wager?"
"If Mother has a boy, I win, but if it's a girl, then Viserys wins," explained Visenya.
That being said, I would like to have a sister, but I feel it shall be another brother.
"I think Mother shall have a boy, but Ser Robert didn't promise me any sweets," frowned Joffrey.
"Do not fret, Joff, I shall give you three of mine if I win!" she said warmly.
"Five!" he shouted.
"Four," she countered.
"Very well," smiled Joffrey, rubbing her silvery gold hair.
As they were about to enter the building that led to the gallery, a dragon flew past Visenya and Joffrey, almost knocking both of them off their feet. They both gasped and looked up at the beast.
The dragon was gigantic, and had wings that glimmered like beaten silver. Its horns reflected off the afternoon sun, and the dragon let out a loud squeal.
Silverwing!
For some reason, seeing the dragon flying above the gallery felt familiar to Visenya, as if she had already ridden the beast before. Silverwing then flew back around, letting out another roar, which reminded Visenya of a greeting call.
"Do you ever dream of dragons, Joff?" she asked as they entered the long gallery that led to the Sea Dragon Tower.
"Not really," her older brother replied. "I did have one or two dreams of them, long ago, but it was so long ago I cannot remember it."
"Oh," she frowned. "Most of the dreams I have of dragons are nice, but sometimes they are not nice."
"I would like to dream of dragons… it's the only time I would have a dragon."
"Once, I dreamed that you read a dragon, actually. You were leading an army in a great battle, I think."
"Really?" he gasped, his face lit with excitement. "Was it a big battle? Who won it? How many men were on each side?"
"I think that the side that had the dragon won the battle," she chuckled. "Dragons always win battles; that's what my father says."
"If there are dragons on both sides, who would win, then?" Joffrey asked.
"The bigger dragon!" she laughed.
They walked across the long gallery, passing through tapestries depicting great battles, legendary Targaryens of old, and dragons. So many dragons. She recognised the tapestry that depicted the three dragons of the conquest, and another of Vermithor and Silverwing, the dragons of Jaehaerys and Alysanne.
Eventually, they made it to the egg chamber (which is what Visenya and her siblings called it), the room that housed all the dragon eggs. Across one wall were a collection of eggs of every colour, and every single one was cold, turned to petrified stone.
They were all Joff's eggs.
He looked ruefully at the row of eggs before walking over to the cauldron that housed his current egg. The dragonkeeper that was stationed in the room, a young man with a shaved head, carefully lifted the lid of the cauldron.
Steam wafted out of the pot, which made the room feel hotter. The dragonkeeper then used two sticks to lift the egg out of the hot stones and placed it on a pile of cloths. It sizzled when touching the white wool, and yellow embers glowed for a moment.
The egg was a dusty cream, with lines of black, which glinted yellow when heated or placed under light. In truth, it was quite ugly.
"It's quite ugly," remarked Joffrey. "My previous eggs were much prettier," he said, walking up to the row of petrified eggs.
"Yes, I quite like this one," Visenya said, touching the fourth egg on the shelf, which was a beautiful silver lined with speckles of bronze.
"This one was my favourite," Joffrey replied, grabbing a beautiful purple egg before putting it back. He then stroked one redder than blood and sighed. "That one, too. But that one only lasted a week."
"Though, a dragon egg is still a dragon egg, Joff," she said.
"You are correct," he sighed. "I must be grateful for whichever egg hatches, in truth… but I doubt this one shall even hatch."
"Don't say that!" Visenya said. "It will!"
"If it doesn't, I can still try and claim one of the dragons from the Dragonmont, no matter how hard it shall be."
"You would need to be very brave to do that!" she exclaimed.
"I am plenty brave!" he protested, lightly hitting her arm.
"I am braver!" japed Visenya.
"I am the bravest!" he laughed as they chased each other around the room.
When they were out of breath and giggling on the floor, Visenya thought of the dragons that lived on the same island as her. First, she thought of Silverwing, with its majestic colouring and sparkling wings. Then, her mind went to Vermithor, the angry beast with horns that glowed like molten copper. She then imagined Dreamfyre, the dragon as pale as a winter morning, and Tyraxes, who had marvellous purple scales and horns that shone like red rubies. There were also the three wild dragons, the dark Cannibal, the ugly Sheepstealer, and the elusive Grey Ghost.
All wonderful beasts…
"Should we take a look at your egg?" Joffrey asked, wiping sweat off his brow.
"Very well," she replied, leaping to her feet and walking up to her cauldron.
The dragonkeeper did the same routine he did with Joffrey's egg and lifted the lid, letting the steam pour out. He took the egg out, which was a dark grey with swirls of snow white and green grass, and put it on the bed. But when he did, it did not sizzle.
"Did you see?" she asked the dragonkeeper, who nodded and raised his eyebrow in confusion.
Carefully, he put his little finger on the egg, before putting all his other fingers, and then picking it up. He passed it from hand to hand, then turned to Visenya and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Princess," he said, an apologetic look on his face, passing the egg to Visenya.
She gulped and held back tears whilst accepting it. The egg felt cool in her hands, reminding her of the large rocks on the island's black beaches. Angrily, she threw the egg back onto the bed. Off in the distance, a dragon wailed.
"I'm sorry," whispered Joffrey, putting a caring hand on her shoulder.
"It is no worry," she sniffled. "Now we both know how it is to have an egg become cold."
In truth, Joff has had so much more eggs become cold; it has only happened to me once.
"Come, we should tell Mother," Joffrey said warmly. "Your father was in the volcano looking for eggs for the coming babe, was he not? Mayhaps he can get another egg for you?"
"Yes, he could," she sighed.
Father shall not be happy that the egg became cold. He will likely blame the dragonkeepers for it, even though it was the gods who decreed that this egg would not hatch.
They both nodded at the dragonkeeper, giving their thanks to the bald man before exiting. They then made their way to the second highest floor of the tower, where their mother was resting.
Their mother's chambers were quite chilly, with half of it open, overlooking the Blackwater. Inside, she sat at the main stone table, reclining on purple velvet cushions and reading some book.
"Ah, Joff, Visenya," she smiled warmly, rising from her seat to greet them.
She was heavily pregnant now, with her belly bulging out of her red and cream gown. Her hair was neatly braided, and her smile was as comforting as ever.
It was just an egg… be a strong girl; you are now eight, almost a woman grown!
"What is it, my dear?" Mother asked, wrapping her soft arms around both Joffrey and Visenya. It amazed Visenya that her mother didn't even need to ask, and just knew something was amiss. The tenderness of Mother's embrace made Visenya forget about her sadness about the egg, and instead made her feel warm and happy inside.
"We were at the egg chamber," explained Joffrey. "And Visenya's egg was turned to stone," he continued, keeping his voice warm.
"It's just an egg," shrugged Visenya, trying not to be sad about it. "I can always get another one."
"Oh, my dear, do not fret! Yes, your father shall get you another!" Mother said, stroking Visenya's hair.
"I do not fret, in truth, Mother," she smiled. "It's just that it makes me think of how long it shall be until I get a dragon."
"You are still young, Visenya. Both of you are," replied Mother, putting a hand on both Visenya and Joffrey. "Both of you shall get dragons, in time. Just because it hasn't happened yet doesn't mean it shall never happen. Your father's egg never hatched, Visenya, but he still claimed a dragon, and he was a man grown by then!"
"Meanwhile, you rode Syrax at seven!" exclaimed Joffrey. "How did you do that, Mother? It is truly amazing, like you!"
"You do both flatter me, my dears," laughed Mother, kissing him on the forehead. "It was so long ago, but the memory is as clear as a summer's night. Come, I shall tell you of it."
She sat them down on the cool stone floor and poured them a cup of fresh pear juice and a slice of lemon cake. Then, she told them all about her venture into the Dragonpit with her own father, and how she climbed up the yellow dragon with her little legs. By the end of it, Visenya and Joffrey were even more amazed, whilst a single teardrop fell down Mother's cheek, which she quickly wiped away. After she was done telling the tale, Father arrived.
"It was a success, Syrax had a full clutch, and there is one for the babe!" her father declared, swaggering into the room, Viserys alongside him, with Baelon trundling in behind them.
Father took the egg from his leather satchel and plopped it down onto the bed beside where Mother sat. Visenya and Joffrey quickly ran up to it to see how their baby brother or sister's dragon egg looked.
It was a blue so dark it was almost black. Along the scales were ripples of greyish-blue, and when the sunlight hit the egg, it sparkled yellow and purple like bolts of lightning. It was hauntingly beautiful, and it reminded Visenya of an oncoming storm during a cloudy night.
"You shall need to venture back down to the Dragonmont, again, I fear," laughed Mother, as she ran her pale fingers over the egg.
"And why is that?" Father asked, somewhat irritated.
"My egg has turned to stone," sighed Visenya.
"Ah…" sighed Father, his expression softening. He put his gloved hands on her chin and lifted her head up. "Do not worry, sweet daughter, I shall bring you another. You will have your dragon egg."
"Father, as I was saying before," Viserys said, pulling at Father's leather surcoat. "It would be fun if Baelon took us all on Sunfyre. And it would be safe, I promise!"
"I said no, boy," Father snapped. "And I mean no."
"Leave it be, Vis," sighed Baelon. "Prince Daemon does not wish for it to happen."
"What is all this about?" Mother asked, her voice laden with concern.
"It's nothing, truly," Baelon meekly said.
"I was asking Father if Baelon could take Visenya and me on Sunfyre, as Arrax is not yet large enough… Joff has gone before, so why not us?" Viserys said.
"You are still young, lad," answered Father bluntly.
"But I have been on dragonback with you and Mother!" Viserys protested. "How would it be any different?"
"Baelon is still young, as his dragon. It would be unsafe," Father irritatedly replied. "As you said, you and Visenya can ride with me or your mother."
"I do not see the issue in all of this," Mother said.
"Neither do I! I would love to fly on Sunfyre!" Visenya added.
Visenya didn't understand why her father was so vehemently against her and Viserys flying with Baelon. If it was because they were too young, that would not make sense, as Joffrey flew with Baelon when he was even younger.
Father says that it would be unsafe.
She knew that Baelon could be reckless at times and was certainly very lazy, but he would never let his younger siblings get into any danger.
He is our big brother, and I would trust him with anything!
"My answer is final, Viserys, Visenya," Father angrily said, also addressing the comment at Mother, who shook her head and groaned.
"Very well," Mother mumbled, putting an arm around Visenya and Viserys. "When you all are older, you will be able to," she whispered.
Visenya thought it silly as to why her father didn't trust Baelon. It certainly couldn't be because Baelon could not control his dragon; since Baelon had such a strong bond with Sunfyre, they were like one being.
He can command Sunfyre with his thoughts!
Visenya tried to imagine how her older brother managed such a thing. Was it so easy as to just close her eyes and summon the dragon to where she was?
She did just that, imagining herself to be a soaring beast flying over the island. She pictured herself flying around the Dragonmont, past the fields of sheep, and towards the castle. It all felt so real, as if she was up there herself. In her mind, she flew her dragon around the great Stone Drum and landed atop the Sea Dragon Tower that she was presently in.
Suddenly, the building shook.
"What in seven hells…" Mother cursed, gripping onto her bed. "Did a dragon land atop the tower?"
A loud roar answered the question, as it sent ripples across the waves ahead.
"Is this another one of your tricks?" Father shouted, turning to face Baelon.
"No… this was not me… I swear it…" stuttered Baelon, who was equally as shocked by it all.
Everyone had the same look of terror on their faces; everyone, bar Visenya. She felt calm, and in control of everything.
I landed the dragon atop the tower with my head… did it truly happen in real life, too?
She imagined the dragon leaping off the tower and flying out to sea. The ground rumbled again, and a great silver dragon came into view from the balcony.
Soaring above the blue waves, Silverwing danced through the clouds before diving downwards and darting past galleys and cogs. The giant she-dragon looked like it was made of pure silver, and its horns glimmered in the sun.
"It's… it's listening to me!" gasped Visenya in wonderment.
Mother was the first to realise what had happened. She put her hand to her mouth in shock, and started laughing in delight. Father did next, and he stood as still as a statue, his jaw slack. Visenya's siblings all realised it, too, with Baelon letting out ten different curses, Joffrey jumping up and down, and Viserys embracing Visenya tightly.
Silverwing soared past the balcony again, letting out a happy squeal, before Visenya willed the dragon to land on the beach just outside the castle.
"Come!" Visenya shouted, running out of the room.
They all followed, even mother with her swollen belly, going down the twisting stone stairs and out to the black sand of the coastline. They passed by servants and knights and squires who just looked at them all in confusion.
She arrived at the beach, breathless from the run. She ran across the beach, sand crunching beneath her boots, up to where Silverwing sat.
The silver dragon let out a deafening roar, and it felt like coming close to a giant oven. Its eyes were made of molten silver, which squinted as it judged Visenya, who edged closer to the dragon.
Before she could go any further, Silverwing let out another soft roar, craning its head upwards and baring its neck. It had hundreds of teeth, yet it seemed to be smiling.
Visenya gulped and took a step forwards, her right arm outstretched.
Remember what the keepers would tell us to control the dragons.
"Dohaeragon!" she shouted at the beast.
Serve!
The dragon purred softly and lowered its neck.
Visenya took another step closer, and then another, until she could touch the dragon.
She ran her fingers across Silverwing's warm scales. It felt like a dream, stroking the great beast as if it were a kitten.
No… it is no dream… it is real! It is truly real!