Chapter Text
Maegor I
17AC
Waking up in my new bed was as unpleasant as it had always been. My boring, dark grey ceiling and near-empty room complimented my mood quite well. I struggled to get out of bed, only my ever-growing hunger pushing me forward.
Throwing off my sheets and clambering to my small feet I took a moment to look around my room and it only made my situation all the clearer. I had been reborn in Westeros. I could not remember when exactly I woke up in this body. I didn't even know if that was the correct way to describe it, I think it was more like I had finally gotten my hands behind the wheel. My memories were dodgy going back to the last few years of childhood and thankfully I did not remember being born. I was five years old now and that was bad enough.
Walking towards my wardrobe to get dressed for the day I found the hanging mirror inside when I opened it. What greeted me had felt weird from the moment I first set eyes on it and remained weird. Short-cut silver-gold hair, a strong jaw, sharp features, and piercing, dark purple eyes.
On top of being reborn into a medieval shithole, it had to be in the family of crazy monsters. House Targaryen, Last of the Forty, dragonlords, blood mages, crazy, inept at every opportunity, all-around fools, and last but certainly not least, complete assholes. That was the family I had been reborn into. What was even worse was that I had been reborn into arguably the worst of them all. Maegor Targaryen, Son of King Aegon the Conqueror and his first wife, Queen Visenya Targaryen.
Remembering who I was put an even more sour mood on my already quite depressed personality. The extreme change in environment was hard to cope with and I completely exhausted every single opportunity for stimulation within a year.
Lessons with the Maester bored me to death. Maester Steffon was a good man but even his most advanced lessons equated to basic High School education. I had to temper myself to not be declared some form of demon. I knew Visenya Targaryen would silence any such rumors but I would rather not take the chance.
The lessons only soured my mood further. I had been a student in my previous life. Well on my way to a degree in history. Now I was I was stuck in the body of a five-year-old and the boredom was killing me. Not to mention the dread of being born in an objectively worse version of medieval Europe. Inept rulers, religious fanatics who detested my very existence, and above all else the people in this world worried me.
Westeros was the epitome of dog eat dog and I hated thinking about it. Good people were betrayed by cowards and hateful losers for the slightest increase in their own standing. Even the most altruistic people barely cared for family.
Speaking of family, Visenya was a whole different nutcase. In some ways, she was both awesome and terrible. She was without a doubt the most interesting person to speak with on Dragonstone, though I could only really compare her to the illiterate servants or the Maester. Yet beyond that, she worked me hard, the moment I demonstrated I could read she placed a seemingly endless stream of books in front of me. I would have found it interesting if the books were not all so dreadfully boring.
Either way, she was a very attentive mother, when she was on Dragonstone at least. My mother spent much of her time in King’s Landing for up to half the year and when she was gone I would be even more bored than normal. I tended to follow her around when I could. Hoping she would show me something interesting like fire magic or some cool swordplay but all I got were lessons on speaking High Valyrian and some light politicking.
I had to admit learning High Valyrian was interesting at least, it was one of the few things I enjoyed after I gained control of this body. Learning High Valyrian was shockingly easy for me. I picked up basic High Valyrian in like a month and by the third, I was practically fluent. Perhaps it was a combination of my squishy child brain and my experience learning other languages in my previous life.
As soon as I learned the language it was the only one my mother would speak in. I imagined it was her mother tongue, being a Targaryen before they became glorified Andals, and she actually spoke Andal with an accent. I could not really place it anywhere but it was certainly there. Thankfully Andal was basically English so I did not have to learn two new languages here.
Getting my clothes on for the day I made my way to the door of my plain room. Opening it only dampened my mood further. Much like the dour weather outside, this castle was dreary and gloomy from head to toe. Black as night in some areas and an unpleasant dark gray in others, the castle was a pain in the ass to navigate in the dark and brought down the mood in the day. The one place in the castle that did not emanate a grim atmosphere was Aegon’s Garden.
I decided I would make my way there after I ate to see some green in this unpleasant castle. As I passed a few servants along my path to the kitchen, I actually waved at them and tried to give them a real smile. Visenya always told me not to but these people worked quite hard, the least I could do was show some appreciation.
The kitchens had the last of the breakfast items and were in the process of preparing dinner. Visenya was supposed to be returning from her multi-day stint in King’s Landing. I had never been to the city as far as I could recall but from what I knew from my past life, I might not want to.
Grabbing some cold pastries and moving on quickly, I made my way down The Dragon’s Tail and toward Aegon’s Garden. The only spot in the entire fortress with any greenery was a nice escape for me. When I was not otherwise busy I liked to spend time here. I could almost forget my situation sitting in the garden and admiring the stunning landscapes of the island I could see from there.
I sat on one of the stone benches in the garden for quite a while, I was bored but I found that boredom was going to be a constant thing in this world. Visenya had immediately shut down my attempts at playing games with the other children in the fortress so I was both starved for communication and had burnt through my stimulation. Especially because two thirds of the books in the Dragonstone library were on too high of a shelf for me and the Maester laughed off my asking for more advanced books.
Eventually, I heard a great roar resound from the sky and I knew Visenya had returned from King’s Landing. I was told that when I was younger, she would commute to King’s Landing during the day and return to our island home at night but ever since I turned five she began staying there for multiple days at a time. Then she would return for a few days and then begin the process again.
I knew why she did it but it still made me unhappy. Visenya was interesting and despite her flaws, I liked being around her. So when she would go off for days on end to rule in my father’s name I could not help but feel upset. Why she did not just bring me with her to King’s Landing never ceased to confuse me. Whenever I asked her she would just change the subject and stop talking to me if I kept pressing.
Making my way up to the secondary gate, my mind drifted to thoughts of this body’s father. Aegon Targaryen was the first king of Westeros, I was a prince because of him, yet I rarely saw him at all.
I generally saw him once a year for a few days at most. He would come here to speak with Visenya and while he would communicate with me and we would even speak a little, he would always be standoffish and all of our conversations were short. Much to my chagrin, Aegon was probably the second most interesting person I had any access to and he did not even want to speak with me.
That was thankfully not the case for Visenya. When she was on Dragonstone she was generally more than happy to entertain my questions, so long as I did not push too far in some areas. Like the Dornish war was strictly a no-question zone for me. I accepted her lectures and moved the subject when allowed.
After walking for what felt like an eternity I found the second gate and the rest of the castle seemed to follow. This gate was the first of a few signs that I may be up shit creek in this world. There was a Dragonpit on Dragonstone. As far as I could remember that was not a thing in the books and when I asked my mother why we did not just use the caves for dragons she laughed and went on a long spiel about the history of dragonkeeping.
When said person entered through the maw of a dragon-shaped gate, the rest of the household knelt and I just remained standing. She was my mother so I guessed I did not need to kneel, granted I would not really know. Visenya never taught me much about etiquette because we were “better than everyone else,” as she would say.
She dismounted her brown mare and sent the rest of the castle back to work. Visenya always seemed to find a way to confuse me with her actions. In some areas she was haughty and in others, she was down to earth. Through it all, she carried an air of superiority and I had no idea what to make of it all.
“Good Morning Maegor, did you sleep well?” Visenya said as she walked straight past me and I realized she expected me to walk with her. She spoke in High Valyrian, as she always did.
“Uhh, yes mother,” I lied in my childish voice. I could not exactly talk like a grown man in a child’s body and it made holding conversations annoying. I had not in fact slept well. I rarely did, tormented by nightmares and being altogether too damn warm in Fortress Dragonstone. Which was eternally heated from the Dragonmont it was built into.
“Hmm.” She definitely caught my lie and I could just feel another series of questions I could not answer were coming on.
“What did you do today?” She decided to interrogate me and I knew I was about to get a lecture for wasting my time. Visenya was always doing something and I envied her for it. Hell, anything to distract me from the boredom and my present situation would have been welcome but my child body limited me.
“I woke up and went to Aegon’s Garden,” I said flatly, as that was indeed all I had done. I had been doing less and less things over the last few months. My motivation was at an all-time low and my mother had tried several things to get it up again.
Sword lessons and history lessons were fun and interesting but I was only five in this body so Visenya would not teach me the really interesting stuff. As a result, most of my mother’s attempts would result in her lecturing me for a few hours before I got tired and went to sleep.
“How about you come with me and claim a dragon, Maegor?” she suddenly asked and I was stopped dead in my tracts.
“What?” I helplessly queried.
“You heard what I said, follow if you want to,” she said flatly before reversing her course. Back towards the secondary gate which faced the Dragonpit.
Truth be told I had never really thought of claiming a dragon all that much. I do not really know how it had slipped my mind but I had unwittingly forgotten the objectively coolest thing Targaryens could do. Claim dragons.
I quickly ran to catch up with my mother and caught a smirk on her face as she heard my small footsteps trot towards her.
…
Dragonstone did not perfectly match the description I knew of from canon Asoiaf, or maybe it did and it just was not described very well, I had been losing memories of my old life much to my eternal displeasure.
Dragonstone was a dark and gloomy fortress situated on a Volcano, there were still places like the Stone Drum and the Sea Dragon Tower but the castle also had some strange features. One was rather modern baths, heated by a natural hot spring and the other main one was the internal heating of the castle. Vents dug into the Dragonmont made the castle balmy, even in the winter years.
The largest change though was without a doubt the Dragonpit. It was a hulking behemoth of a structure situated near the peak of the Dragonmont. Carved into the mountain with the same magic used to make Fortress Dragonstone it held the militant order of the Dragonkeepers. Who were tasked with defending our dragons. I was kind of worried about the new things as it threw into question everything I knew from my old world but I was not given a chance to continue worrying atop my pony as when we neared the Dragonpit, Visenya began speaking to me.
“I will not be upset if you do not claim this Hatchling, Maegor. My sister waited years for our father to pass on so she could claim Meraxes. Should you wish to do the same I will give you my full support.”
“Alright Mother,” I answered easily. I was more focused on the idea of getting a dragon right now. I wanted to at least get a look at it.
As we reached the entrance I marveled at the sight. Two enormous bronze doors, each of them several stories tall and carved from bottom to top in a distinctive blend of Valyrian runes and draconic imagery. It stood out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of the dark gray mountain but the sheer scale surprised me.
As I entered the pit I found that it looked like an extension of Fortress Dragonstone, black as night with dragons, sea dragons, wyrms, and other fantastical beings carved seemingly everywhere in the pit. I counted fourteen stables in the dimly lit chamber, Vhagar claimed the biggest due to Balerion not being here though anyone could tell it was not made for her. We made our way to the back of the pit and I noticed the distinct change in the size of the stables.
There were four up front for dragons the size of Balerion, Four more behind them for dragons around Vhagar’s size, and finally six more stable for smaller dragons. On top of all that was the labyrinthine system of rooms and chambers carved into the Dragonmont for a number of purposes. Living quarters, storage depots, a library according to the books I read, and most importantly of all, the hatcheries that birthed the dragons for House Targaryen. So after giving some quick greetings to Vhagar, we made our way into a tunnel, led by an elderly dragonkeeper.
After we passed a fork in the road that likely led to some of the living quarters for the Dragonkeepers, we entered another large chamber that must have been the nursery. The nursery was very weird, it was a sizable room with a number of different cages, tables, and adjacent rooms for things I did not know about. I scoured the room for a small dragon but I could not see one, instead, it was a rather bare chamber, bereft of everything but a few heavily armed and armored guards.
‘ That’s weird, ’ I thought with a light frown. Visenya had promised a dragon was here but I could not see one.
“Where is the dragon?” Visenya said with a remarkably impatient tone and I intently looked at the elderly Dragonkeeper, who must have been their Grandmaster.
“Your Grace, I must implore you, this dragon is nothing like Quicksilver. He does not listen to Valyrian commands and has already maimed two of our brothers. I think it would be best if we waited for the Prince to get older before we attempt a claim,” the old man bowed when he spoke, probably fearful of my mother’s wrath.
“I promised my son a dragon, now bring it out,” Visenya said with a displeased tone. I was not entirely certain if she was allowed to give orders to them. Given they were technically sworn to Aegon and not her I guess they just allowed it. That was another problem, so much of this world was informal.
I could feel myself getting giddy as two Dragonkeepers walked further into the room and opened a stable, clearly wrangling the dragon loudly before dragging it out to meet with us. The cruel nature in which they were handling the dragon irked me but I supposed you shouldn’t play with fire.
“This dragon is two years old, Your Grace. It is violent and uncontrollable. Are you sure you want to do this?” a younger Dragonkeeper whispered while two middle-aged men pulled the dragon out of the adjacent room in chains.
I shuddered at what the man said, almost coming to regret my actions before I laid eyes on the beast. It was striking, smaller than I would have hoped for but larger than I expected. I expected a hatchling but apparently, I did not remember any talk of a new dragon being born. I would have cursed my coming to consciousness late but my mind was preoccupied with taking in the sight.
The dragon was beautiful in a harsh sort of way, Its body was black as coal, its wing membranes were ash gray, and its eyes were a piercing, baleful green. Its scales had a sharp edge to them and the little beast almost looked like he walked right off the walls of Castle Dragonstone.
It hissed and screeched and roared at the different Dragonkeepers as it was pulled from the room and brought before me and Visenya. It roared and snapped at the other Dragonkeepers and everyone in the room seized up in an instant. It then turned its attention to me and Visenya quickly put her hand on my shoulder and positioned herself in front of me.
The dragon roared in fury when it was hit after hissing at Visenya and it was about to spit fire when I acted, completely on instinct.
“Lykiri!” I yelled and the dragon was shocked into retracting the fire from the back of its throat.
The dragon looked quizzically at me and I walked forward. The Dragonkeepers in the room grew concerned but Visenya merely smiled down at me as I placed a hand atop the dragon's snout and looked into its green eyes. As I muttered the word “ Dohaeris,” I felt a change in me.
It was not truly describable but I could feel it deep in my mind, like a puzzle piece I did not even know was missing had finally been put back where it belonged. I thought about myself then, I missed my family dearly but my own internal monologue began speaking to me in the voice of my new body, I had been reborn in this world. I will not see them ever again, they would want me to be happy. The words bounced in my mind and I nearly kicked myself then and there for being so stupid. I was reborn into the body of a Targaryen prince and I was moping about, not taking this chance to experience new things and find new things to enjoy.
I pieced it all together in my head. I would cherish my memories of my old life as long as I could but I would not be shackled to them. I had been granted an opportunity here and all I was doing was squandering it. I was not an American College student, I was Maegor Targaryen, the son of Aegon the Conqueror and his first wife, Visenya Targaryen.