AEGON
"Dragonstone, for all its greatness in being a dreary and grey island of stable familiarity, with the wonderful smell of saltwater and smoke and endless possibilities, did not have wild strawberries. Sure, it had green grass on more than half of the island, lining the front of it from the castle walls all the way along the green slantern down to where the fishermen sat by the village docks, and Aegon had grown roses in the secluded pine garden his mother started, but the sea-born climate was somehow simply not stable enough to allow for such sweet and dainty plants. For some strange reason, however, Driftmark, which was close by and only somewhat larger, held a small yet thriving population of the sweet red berries. It was one of the few things from Westeros which Aegon knew had no equal in Old Valyria, and thus one of the blessings which he hoped to garner more of with increased presence and trade. Normally, they would buy a couple of bushels each year from the Masseys of Stonedance, and his sweet sister Rhaenys was particularly fond of these sweet fruits of the "new land".
Driftmark also had much greater architecture, due to its elder nature and more talented set of builders. The Velaryons had never been dragonlords, though their house had been amongst the nobles of Old Valyria, famed for their success in trade and shipmaking.
The vast and elegant Valyrian towers and archways of Driftmark's Far Tide were the perfect place for Balerion and the other dragons to fly through on sprawling green spring and summer days. When the sun shone and the sky was a dazzling blue with clouds so ever white, Aegon would feel that most fantastical feeling of the dragonrider's magical rush as he flew upon Balerion time and time again through the stone archways between the castle's two largest towers. His black scaly dragon brother enjoyed the experience on those rare sunny summer days more than anything else in the world, and Aegon knew and could tell that it was because the place reminded him of his childhood Valyria. Aegon could feel it strongly himself too. The sensation of travelling between those high slender white towers over and over again, flying faster each time and yet at the same time in his mind's eye trying to slow down to savour the moment of those few sacrede hundred feet of pure vision which were now the most fantastic place left in the entire world, these rare few archaic pillars and towers which seemed to sprout from the eternal green grass like dreams, seeing them reaching up so high towards the sky and the surrounding ones, was the highest form of euphoria Aegon had ever felt. The sparkling green of the grass below, the pure elation of the flight, the breeze of the air filling his lungs close to their limits, and the painful, heartbrokenly screeching yet ever so beautiful nostalgia of revived dreams of childhood in Balerion's mind, all of these incredible sensations all mixed and gleamed and blaned and wrung themselves in eternal elevation to revolve his mind in this, their paradise of eternal youth.
It was this, these few precious summer days of amazing, pure flight, that made the yoke of Balerion's centennial memories and scorched heartache all worth it to bear. This was a peerless beauty, one with a thousand green years of plenty forever echoing back in its dizzying, frenzied memory, and one which was made to last for a thousand years forward."
...
The sun shone high in the azure light blue sky, white clouds swept by to the screeching of seagulls and the crashing of waves all around.
Far Tide, situated along the northern coast of Driftmark, was technically only a set of very tall watchtowers and archways along with a gatehouse and small soldiers' keep adjoined next to it, but it was taller and far more spectacular than the main seat of Castle Driftmark, and so the Velaryons liked to spend sunny summer days here by the green summergrass and the sea just beyond.
And here, as well, did Aegon love to visit on Balerion from time to precious time to see his dear cousins.
...
At long last, the black beast seemed to be finished, slowing down and making to land. Aegon surveyed the ground to see where he was most like to land, guessing on the ground just after the archway, on the slope towards the small courtyard. Yes, there they would land after one last lap or two around the castle. The Velaryon siblings all stood down below watching as usual, all five of them, clapping their hands and shouting unhearable words of encouragement and battle cries of "Balerion! Balerion! Balerion the lightning bolt! Balerion the black flash of lightning!". The wind swept away most of the sound, making their words disappear, but sometimes he thought he heard some of it.
The great dragon finally landed, flapping his enormous black wings a few times on the spot and descending. It was a perfect landing, which was part good luck and part practice. Aegon took a few steps out onto the massive outstretched right wing, as velderly and leathery as an entire floor of leather, hopped off and landed in the grass below with a hard thud. The leap had been an easy ten feet but he was used to it. He felt the pain in his feet slowly wane into a manageable stiffness as he walked back to them.
"Bravo!" Cheered Aethan as soon as he was within earshot.
"Great flying, Aegon!" Twittered Jaecaera, and Aelinora readily agreed.
"Thankyou", said Aegon, still almost out of breath, as he walked on towards them, his back held straight and proud and his boots trampling forward in heavy strides, trying to not show how tired he was from the ordeal.
"Twenty laps around in total, was it?" said Aethan.
"Twenty-four!" said Aelinora, clapping her hands excitedly with the fervour of a swallow/[ ]. "I counted it myself!"
"Through the archway so many times. Just like threading a needle. And yet… He somehow never misses", noted Corlys. Aegon gave him a breathless nod back.
"It's a new record! We must celebrate!" said Aelinor.
"Isn't the sight of it celebration enough?" asked Aethan.
"Nonsense, brother! We simply must have an ox slaughtered and given to him as a reward! Or something of the sort, at least. Do we have any sheep who have grown fat from the summer grass so far?"
"Why bother slaughtering it? Just let him in the hage and he'll have his fill", joked Corlys.
"Very funny, brother. It is essential to distinguish between what he is allowed and isn't allowed to touch. You know that."
"I don't think it is wise to feed him here on the island at all, in such a case. Besides: We can't afford to have an ox out every time he breaks a new record. With all respect, Aegon. We'd be out of food within a fortnight. I think the joy he gets out of it is reward enough for him", said Jaecaera. "Don't you?"
"I suppose you're right, sister. I can tell how much he likes it. Look at him. He is all fired up from the excitement", said Aelinor, pointing at Balerion's tail lashing from side to side across the green hill like a giant spiked mace in a playlike manner.
"That he is, all right. I thought he was supposed to be old, and yet he seems to grow faster almost for every time."
"It's the season, I think. He was nowhere near this fast back in winter. The smile of the summer sun is good for men and dragons alike."
Aegon reached the table at long last and took a drink of sparkling fresh orange lemonade. "Aye, that is the way of it, all right." He put a salt, smokey sausage in his mouth and started to chew on it to get some of his strength back. Riding a dragon was hard work.
"Aegon, would you please, please just let me walk up on his wings again?" Aelinor begged, rushing up to him. "I won't agitate him or anything, I promise. Please, please,, Pleeease!…"
"In a while perhaps, if then", said Aegon. "It could be dangerous when he's all fired up, like you said."
"Oh but he's such a sweetheart, he will know that I wish him only well, and that I am not a small treat for him to eat! Look at him! He loves it here, in this place, and I am the blood of this place myself."
"I would not necessarily focus on the aspect of your blood", said Aegon with a wry smile, chisening with his eyes towards the bright sun and placing another sausage from the plate in his gloved hand.
"I trust him. I know he would never hurt me. He is such a sweet beast", said Aelinor again, decided. "Please just let me go up to him and touch him at least!"
"Fine then. You can approach him if you promise to be calm and not fret around all too much. Just give me a few moments to calm down myself first", said Aegon with a small fnitter.
"Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou! Oh, thankyou, Aegon!" said Aelinora, cradling her bouquet of flowers to her gracious chest in a [jittery/[ ]] motion, showcasing her glittering row of teeth in a youthful giddy smile.
He thought about what he had just promised, weighing the possibilites and the risks in his head. I'm sure it will be fine. It is as she says. He is a sweet beast. He always has been, he thought, scratching the slight pock marks on his right cheek. He had had the slightest outburst of mild red pock marks and pimples, just like small red crater blossoms, when he was in his 14th and 15th year. The marks were almost all gone now, at last. It was the only fault or blemish he had ever had on his appearance; apart from that his face was the image of valyrian perfection, just like the others, and just like them he knew it.
"So do you like the wine after all?" asked Jaecaera, leaning towards the table in her solemn yet flirtatious manner. "For some reason the [Myrish/Dornish [ ] cogs all seem to unload at my father's port instead of yours."
"I like all summer-like things, except the heat of summer itself", lied Aegon. That was not necessarily the truth, but this particular brand of sweet Dornish orange wine was certainly excellent. They had bought it off a trading ship which laid to port at Sharp Point a few weeks back, and now it was the perfect time and weather to be enjoying such fruitful and sultry drinks. Besides, the Velaryons always seemed to like his manner of small quips, especially the girls. Whenever he would pay them a visit, he enjoyed making the most of it.
…
Aegon turned to speak to Jaecaera, the cleverset, and therefore of course, the most impossible to charm, among the sibling group.
"You enjoyed the show, I presume. Although you seem less impressed than your siblings. As ever."
"I think you would find it very hard to truly impress me, Aegon. And I think that you yourself know that.", she replied.
"And why is that?"
"Because I have seen, read and thought almost everything there is in this world."
Aegon thought hard on that.
"Almost everything, you say?"
"Yes."
"Then you know of course about the most important [port/harbor] of Tyria?" He asked her inquisitively.
"Tendelion Gehemnis", answered Jaecaera in crisp High Valyrian, her eyes a violet-blue demure seductiveness staring up from beneath her silvery fringe of hair.
"And the manner of its passing?"
"Largely laid to waste by dragonfire and other lethal arts several years before the Doom, by the sudden conflict between the ruling families of Tyria and Oros, but then quickly rebuilt and doubled in size. After this war, which even somewhat affected the outer parts of the capital itself, Valyria further tightened its grip of power over Tyria and Oros to ensure that such conflicts never were to erupt again, and forced the signing of alliances between several families great and small; among others the Temenites and the Valdaryans, as well as the lesser Heldenites and the Gylandrians, and the Stevelions and the Glaentorparyans."
"For all the good it did them", added Aegon sarcastically.
"My turn", she said, "Who was the favoured god of Elyria's main temple?"
"Delvarian", said Aegon with certainty. "The sweet and rare, the dreamer, the deceiver, the guardian of sweet fruits."
"And of the Stevelions's temple in Valyria?"
"Faloxys, the green and fertile, the lash of his tail, the flyer, the filler of life's lust, the eternal youth, the fast, flickering flitter of the wind"
"And of the Teminites's temple at Brigandaria?"
"Vexalion, the sooty black, the guardian of the anvil, the hammer of justice, the teeth-grinder, the stone shaper, the blacksmith and the eternal judge of those who claim to speak."
"You are almost as good as me at this, Aegon. You surprise me indeed.", teased Jaecaera and took his elbow about her hand [/[ ]]. "Come, walk with me, we must speak of some newer things now. Things of Westeros. What say you of that topic, my lord?"
"Ask away, my lady. I am in deep study of it."
And so they walked, and so they talked.
...
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