Chapter Text
Aegon pushed his sword up to block Ser Erryk’s strike, the blades clanging loudly. The sound of metal upon metal was grating to his ears. He had graduated to live steel a few moons ago, and he was still not used to the sounds.
Sweat beaded down his face underneath his helm. Ser Erryk had insisted on proper protection if they were going to use live steel. Aegon could see the wisdom of it, but it still was almost oppressively hot within the confines of the armor. Their current bout had been going for several minutes, and Aegon was rapidly losing stamina, which meant he had been reduced to blocking instead of dodging. He was fast on his feet and generally preferred dodging, but it was difficult to keep up in longer bouts.
He stumbled momentarily as he felt the pressure he had been pushing against let up as Ser Erryk withdrew his sword. Unfortunately, the momentary lapse was all Ser Erryk needed to disarm him.
“You have improved much, my Prince.” Ser Erryk praised generously after Aegon yielded. Too generously.
Aegon pulled the helm up off his head, letting his silver hair go free. He had cut his hair shorter since he started wearing the helm regularly, but it still matted to his head and neck after long training sessions.
Aegon eyed his sworn shield. “But,” he prompted. His knight hesitated, as if he did not wish to speak, but Aegon knew what his knight was thinking. He had realized it too. He sighed, finishing the statement for Ser Erryk. “But I am not growing, and my improvement is slowing.”
Ser Erryk sighed. “Yes, Prince Aegon.”
Aegon had settled into a short, lean build. He was not grotesquely short, but he was of below average height. Aemond, on the other hand, had shot up the past year and was now already taller than Aegon. It was almost perverted justice that Aegon, who had won all his spars as a child with his brother and nephews by being taller and older, would be the smallest of his family other than Helaena.
But Aegon took after his mother more than any of her other children. He had her height and her face shape. It was ironic that the child who took after her the most was also her least favorite.
“Do you know any techniques for shorter men?” Aegon asked morosely.
“I do not.” Ser Erryk grimaced. He himself was a foot taller than Aegon and much more sturdily built. Ser Erryk had reach and power on most men and had built his fighting style around it. Aegon would likely never have that.
Aegon sighed. “Then we will continue as-is for the time being. I will write to a friend who may have some ideas.”
The “friend” was Lord Corlys. Aegon and the Lord of the Tides had struck up a cordial correspondence since he left Driftmark. Soon after Aegon’s departure, Lord Corlys had sent him a letter by messenger and provided instructions about a drop box in the city that would see letters returned to the Lord of Driftmark.
Lord Corlys’s first letter had been an update on his investigation into Ser Qarl. He had not said anything about Daemon or Rhaenyra, but Aegon suspected from the secretive nature of the communications that Corlys had made the right connections after his sister’s marriage. Aegon had been right that the King had refused to annul her marriage. Instead, the King had only told her and her husband not to show their faces in King’s Landing until his anger abated.
Regardless, Aegon had appreciated the privacy of the correspondence, given his own knowledge of what Daemon and Rhaenyra were capable of. They would certainly view any familiarity between Aegon and the Lord of Driftmark as a threat.
Over time, the letters had expanded beyond Lord Corlys’s investigation and turned into more familiar matters and sometimes even small exchanges of other useful information. For example, Aegon had heard from Tyland that House Estermont had lost a number of ships in a recent storm and passed the tidbit on to Corlys. He had heard weeks later than House Velaryon had sold ships to the Stormlanders, probably at a tidy profit.
If anyone would know of a sword style suitable for Aegon’s build, it would be the well-traveled Sea Snake.
Ser Erryk didn’t pry. He had followed Aegon faithfully to the drop box many times, but he never asked who he was sending letters to or why the letters were kept secret. Aegon deeply appreciated the silent, unwavering support.
“You are best when dodging, my Prince.” Ser Erryk observed. “You are quick and nimble, and it is best for you to avoid blocking directly. We should work on your endurance, so you don’t get forced too early into a clash of blades.”
Aegon nodded. “Let’s call it a lesson for today and begin working on that tomorrow.”
Aegon had been training mostly with his sworn shield of late. The arrangement worked out for everyone because Aemond had blossomed under Ser Criston’s individual attention.
“What is on my schedule for today?” Aegon asked as he and his knight left the yard.
“You are breaking your fast with your family.” Ser Erryk replied. “And then you have a meeting with Lord Tyland for lunch.”
When Aegon arrived freshly changed from his training clothes at his mother’s solar, the rest of his family was already there. Both Aemond and Helaena were reading letters. Even his grandfather had come.
Aegon had settled into a detached but stable professional relationship with his grandfather. His burning anger at his grandfather’s attempt to kneecap him had cooled over many moons. It helped that Tyland told him that his grandfather had begun to spread news of Aegon’s new maturity throughout the Realm. As Tyland had foreseen, his grandfather had pivoted away from his previous plan when Aegon’s improved behavior continued. Otto Hightower was a political animal, ever shifting with the winds. He took in new information and changed his plans accordingly.
Aegon may not trust his grandfather, but he could still recognize his usefulness as Hand of the King. Aegon had learned much about navigating such relationships from Lord Tyland.
Aegon sat on a couch next to Helaena. “Good morrow.”
“Good morrow, Aegon.” His mother replied. She handed him a letter too. “New letters from Daeron arrived.”
Aegon smiled as he broke the seal and began to read. His brother gushed about squiring for their cousin Ormund. “He says Tessarion is almost big enough to ride.” Aegon exclaimed. “Mother, can I go visit for his tenth nameday to teach him to fly?”
“Me too!” Aemond interjected excitedly.
“I would also like to visit.” Helaena added.
Their mother looked hesitant, so Aegon added. “Please. I have taught all my other siblings, and we can reach Oldtown easily on dragonback.”
Their mother looked to their grandfather, who answered. “You cannot all just fly there alone. That many royals would need a full accompaniment of knights and servants. How would it look if three of the King’s children arrive without any protection or the appropriate entourage? And that is expensive just for a visit to Oldtown.”
Aegon wanted to scoff. As if penny pinching should keep them from celebrating their brother. “Then it should not be just a visit to Oldtown. We can visit other keeps along the way, make a progress out of it. It will be good for the Realm to see the King’s children.”
“A royal progress is incredibly time-consuming.” Otto argued. “And you are nearly ten and five. It is time for you and Helaena to be married soon.”
Aegon swallowed a grimace. He still did not think of his sister as a wife. His sister had grown into a beautiful enough young woman, but she did not stir his hungers.
Still, he tried to spend more time with her. He had taken Helaena up on her offer to have tea with her and her ladies in the gardens on several occasions. But he still only loved her as a sister. That was not what his grandfather wanted to hear, however.
“I may be nearly a man grown, but Helaena is still too young.” Aegon countered.
“She has flowered.” Otto replied bluntly. Helaena’s cheeks were burning red at the admission, and Aegon glared at his grandfather.
“She is too young. You know the maesters say that childbirth is more dangerous the younger the woman.” Aegon snapped. “Besides, having a progress before the wedding is good politics. Most of the lords have not seen us and certainly not since Aemond and Helaena claimed their dragons. If we want a good turnout for the wedding, we need to introduce ourselves and impress the lords.”
His grandfather mulled it over thoughtfully, but Aegon still had one card to play. He turned to his mother. “Once I teach Daeron to fly, he can visit often. He can make the trip in only a couple of days on dragonback.”
Alicent’s whole face twisted in longing. She missed Daeron even more than he did, and Aegon knew that the forced separation was like a gaping wound to her soul. She turned to her father. “Perhaps it would be good. There hasn’t been a royal progress since Rhaenyra cut short her marriage tour. Rhaenyra shirks her duty, but we can show the lords that we are different. The contrast will be good for us.”
“Very well.” Otto agreed. “It will take many moons to plan as is, let alone to sell the King on the idea.”
“Perhaps we can sell it by emphasizing that much of the cost will be shouldered by the lords who host us?” Aegon suggested. His grandfather gave him a scrutinizing look.
“Perhaps.” His grandfather agreed. “What houses were you thinking?”
Aegon could hear the suspicion in his grandfather’s voice and kept his voice intentionally nonchalant. “In addition to Oldtown? The Florents are family, and we would have to include Highgarden on any royal progress. And we should probably include some other houses like Fossoway, Rowan, and Redwyne.”
“You have given this much thought.” His grandfather mused. He sounded curious but not angry, as if Aegon was an amusing puzzle.
“I dream of travel as much as any young man would.” Aegon defended. “Even more so as a dragon rider forced to stay at home.”
His grandfather didn’t seem to buy it, but he let it go. “I will consult the King and the Small Council, but don’t expect to leave any time soon. We have many moons before Daeron’s nameday.”
The rest of Aegon’s morning passed pleasantly until his meeting with Lord Tyland. He returned to his room and penned a letter to Lord Corlys, intending to go out into the city later that day to send it.
After lunch, Aegon entered the Master of Ships’ solar alone, with Ser Erryk waiting outside the door. “My lord.” Aegon greeted with a smile as he sat down at their usual table. Lord Tyland had stood from his desk when Aegon was announced and joined him at the table.
“Prince Aegon.” The westerlander greeted him with a smile. Aegon and Lord Tyland had been meeting weekly for over a year now, and they had developed an easy camaraderie.
Aegon didn’t beat around the bush. “The letter from Daeron we were waiting on finally arrived.”
“Oh?” Tyland said with a smile.
Aegon nodded. “Tessarion is nearing a rideable size. The letter arrived while we were breaking our fast. Grandfather was even there when I read it.”
“So you proposed the progress already?” Tyland asked.
“Just as we discussed it.” Aegon affirmed. “Grandfather seems open to the idea, but he was a little suspicious that I had such an idea so readily on hand.”
“I imagine he suspects its origin. Our meetings and mentorship are not secret.” Tyland said. “But it’s nothing nefarious, so I doubt he’ll care overmuch. He will recognize the value for your House.”
“Agreed. But still, I didn’t mention extending it to the Westerlands because he was already suspicious.” Aegon replied. “I’d prefer to involve him as little as possible in this. I don’t trust him.”
Despite spreading news of Aegon’s improved behavior, his grandfather still made no effort to secure lordly companions for Aegon and Aemond. Accordingly, Aegon and Tyland had decided that Aegon must go directly to the lords, so that he could meet them and their sons directly.
After much discussion, they had decided that Aegon teaching Daeron to ride his dragon was the perfect excuse to get out of the Red Keep. They had meticulously planned a royal progress through the Reach, Westerlands, and a bit of the Riverlands.
“And you should not. He still attempts to keep you isolated and does little to prepare you for your future.” Tyland affirmed. “I can suggest the Westerlands myself. I’m sure my brother’s coin will be an irresistible draw.”
“And you’re sure your brother will not mind?” Aegon asked. “Covering the coin for an extension of the tour will be very expensive, let alone the cost of hosting the dragons.”
“My brother will be ecstatic to host you and Prince Aemond.” Tyland replied dryly. “And my house can easily bear such an expense.”
“Helaena wants to come too.” Aegon revealed.
“Even better!” Tyland exclaimed. “Hosting both you and your future bride will make Jason very happy. And it will be an honor to host Dreamfyre again at the Rock.”
“Just as long as Dreamfyre doesn’t lay another clutch this time.” Aegon teased. The Lannisters had indeed hosted Dreamfyre and Princess Rhaena at Casterly Rock in 50 AC, but she had left when they seemed a little too interested in Dreamfyre’s newest clutch of eggs.
Tyland grinned, chagrined. “Knowing my brother, that would probably be best. I think he offered to build a dragonpit at the Rock when he was courting Rhaenyra.”
Aegon snorted. “I can only imagine how she responded to that.”
“She took it about as well as you are probably imagining.” Tyland laughed. “I love my brother but subtlety is not one of his gifts. He is very loyal though.”
“I look forward to meeting him.” Aegon replied honestly. He had heard a lot about the Lord of Casterly Rock from Tyland. At least he sounded entertaining. “Now tell me, has there been any interesting news on your end?”
The rest of their meeting was spent discussing the latest news from the Small Council and that Tyland had heard in his position of Master of Ships.
For the livelier Small Council debates, Tyland liked to present the various positions to Aegon and have Aegon give his opinion after hearing all the arguments. It was obvious that Tyland was preparing Aegon with these exercises, but it was fun, kind of like a puzzle. It helped that Tyland was not condescending, even when he felt Aegon was off base. He owed much to Tyland for taking him under his wing in the last year.
After leaving his meeting with Tyland, Aegon headed down to the stables, calling for his horse to ride into the city. Aegon’s excursions into the city had changed immensely in the last year. Aegon had been going into the city for years under faded, anonymous cloaks that he bought off the Keep’s servants. He had loved exploring the city that way, truly mingling with the people.
However, ever since Driftmark and, especially, getting a sworn shield, he had been forced to stop sneaking off alone. He had promised not to sneak off from his knight, and, once he got to know Ser Erryk, the prospect of shaming him became intolerable.
Ser Erryk had on rare occasions snuck off with him under his own faded cloak as a compromise. But now, most of Aegon’s excursions were publicly as a prince. Tyland had insisted that Aegon ride out on horseback for these outings. He said that Aegon must be seen and that wheelhouses were too impersonal and closed off.
“Where are we headed, my Prince?” Ser Erryk asked. He had changed out of the armor he wore to training and was now dressed in his full Kingsguard regalia. Aegon smiled as he caught Ser Erryk’s right pauldron shining in the sun. Aegon had gifted him the piece of armor. It had the Targaryen sigil engraved into it in burnished gold, Aegon’s own personal sigil.
“I have a hankering to visit the docks.” Aegon replied. Ser Erryk nodded as he picked up on the subtext. Saying that he wanted to “visit the docks” was Aegon’s way of saying he intended to send a letter from the drop off point when they were in public. “After that, the Street of Steel to start shopping for a present for Daeron’s nameday. Then the Dragonpit.”
In truth, Aegon did not miss the anonymity as much as he thought he would on his outings. The adulation of the smallfolk had been a revelation for him, and he soaked it all up. They greeted him with cheers and smiles as he rode down to the docks.
The docks of King’s Landing were a little more chaotic than those at Spicetown. The layout of the city meant that some of the markets and vendors were actually outside the city, meaning that they had to check ships to collect taxes and dues on the docks themselves. Frantic officers serving the Master of Ships’ office rushed from dock to dock to trying to keep it all running as smoothly as possible.
Aegon was met by smiles and cheers as he rode through the River Gate. At first the people had been curious about the prince’s visits, but it was well-known in court that Aegon was being mentored by Lord Tyland and the smallfolk just accepted it when the prince kept appearing, especially as he always spent some coin.
Lord Corlys’s drop off point was near one of the markets. Once Aegon and Erryk were near the spot, Aegon slipped his knight the letter to send and made a show of going up to one of the street vendors to buy a snack. Aegon had found that buying from the poorer vendors improved his image with the smallfolk and also took the attention off his knight so he could complete the letter drop off. A win-win, he thought as he bit into some delicious roasted squid on a stick.
When Ser Erryk slipped back behind him, Aegon mounted his horse again and headed back into the city, away from the River Row toward the Street of Steel. The Street of Steel was not ideal for horses, so Aegon left his horses with the rest of his guard as he and Ser Erryk proceeded on foot.
“Welcome, my Prince.” Shopkeepers called out to him. He browsed the wares as he walked, keeping an eye out for something Daeron might like. His brother’s letters were still mainly about Tessarion and squiring for cousin Ormund.
A sword was out, as it was tradition that a squire’s weapons be provided by their knight. He would already be getting Daeron his first dragon riding leathers, but those were a gift for becoming a rider, not a nameday present.
Aegon made it through the entire Street of Steel without finding a suitable present. There were many shops with swords, shields, and armor of exceptional quality, but Daeron was still growing. Buying him armor now would be pointless.
Aegon was about to give up, when he saw something in the window of a handsome shop. It wasn’t on the Street of Steel itself and seemed to sell a wider variety of goods. The bell tinkled as Aegon entered. The shopkeeper had a foreign look about him and bowed low to him when he entered. “Welcome, my Prince.” The man greeted in accented Common.
“Thank you. I don’t recognize your accent?” Aegon tilted his head.
“I am Mereneese, my Prince. Skahaz is my name.” He replied.
Aegon held back a grimace. Meereen, one of the slaver cities of the old Ghiscari Empire. “Well met. You are certainly a long way from home.”
Not many people came to Westeros from the cities of Slaver’s Bay. Westeros strongly forbid slavery, and those with the means to leave Meereen did not appreciate having to lose their slaves.
“Indeed, my Prince.” Skahaz replied. “I wanted to trade goods, not slaves. I fit better here.”
That was remarkably progressive for a Mereneese. “Then you have my hearty welcome to King’s Landing. What is your trade?”
“I trained as a blacksmith, my Prince. But my specialty is in combining metalwork with carved lapis.” He gestured to the window that had caught Aegon’s interest. Aegon approached and gently picked up a dagger. The blade was beautiful, curved and serrated with delicate swirl patterns on the blade itself, but the hilt was extraordinary. It was an incredibly life-like horse carved of a bright blue stone flecked with gold.
The window contained a number of pieces carved from that distinctive stone. “This stone is what you call lapis?” Aegon asked, tapping the horse with his finger.
“That’s right. Many generations ago my family discovered a vein of the rock on our land. We investigated and found a whole mine of it. We became prodigious carvers of the stone over the generations.” Skahaz replied.
“It is incredible work.” Aegon complimented. “Do you do custom work?”
“For a hefty fee.” Skahaz chortled. “I would be honored to make a piece for you, Prince Aegon.”
“It would be for my brother’s nameday. For Prince Daeron.” Aegon revealed.
Aegon could envision it now. The blade he held was nearly perfect. He would want some gold embellishments added to Daeron’s blade. But the hilt would be the real difference. It would be carved to resemble Daeron’s Blue Queen, Tessarion. The blue stone would perfectly represent Daeron and the gold flecks would be a reminder of Aegon as the one who gifted it.
Aegon explained what he wanted for the blade to Skahaz. “I will return in a few weeks with a wood carving of my brother’s dragon to use as a model for the hilt.” He would need to send a raven to Oldtown and have a rider bring the carving. It would be expensive, but Aegon was determined to make this as close to Tessarion as he possibly could.
Aegon left a first deposit of gold dragons with Skahaz, who bowed. “It will be my honor to craft such a piece.” Skahaz said.
Aegon left the shop feeling much better. He could scarcely have imagined a more perfect nameday gift for Daeron.
Sunfyre was waiting for him when he arrived at the Dragonpit. The keepers had gotten used to the way Sunfyre would anticipate his visits at this point, although they still stared a little wondrously at Aegon as if he was something miraculous.
Sunfyre trilled at him as he approached, and he rubbed his dragon on the snout in his favorite spot. He rested his head against his dragon’s.
Sunfyre had grown in the last year. Much more than Aegon had himself, and more than was usual for Sunfyre. It was a known fact that dragons never stopped growing, as Vhagar so aptly demonstrated. However, Sunfyre’s growth was more pronounced than the prior few years. Aegon had asked the dragonkeepers if there were records of abnormal growth spurts at Sunfyre’s age, but they found nothing.
He had a suspicion that it may have been unchaining his dragon that was the cause. His beautiful boy had spent moons on Driftmark free to fly the skies at will, and he was definitely more happy living in the Pit after their return. Could a dragon’s happiness help its growth? It was an interesting theory, although not one easy to ethically test as he refused to ever chain his boy again.
“We’re going for a long flight today, Sunfyre.” Aegon mumbled into his golden scales. Sunfyre rumbled happily beneath him, and Aegon felt goosebumps form as the sound traveled through his body.
Once they were in the air, they headed west. Sunfyre was getting faster too as he grew. It was a common misconception that a dragon’s size negatively impacted its speed. But that was only true for the largest dragons, the Vhagars of the world. Larger wings usually meant faster speed. Vhagar was simply so old and enormous that her body size had caught up to her wing size, which made her less maneuverable. Dreamfyre hadn’t yet passed her prime, and if Helaena had wanted to race, she and her dragon could leave both her brothers in her wake.
Sunfyre passed over the town of Tumbleton and its bustling markets. The small castle nestled above the town looked like one of the King’s models from such a height.
Aegon tilted their course a bit more north. He wanted to catch a glimpse of the famous hills of the Westerlands that Tyland raved so much about. In truth, Aegon was not supposed to travel so far as this, but he didn’t care.
He couldn’t believe he had traveled so little when he could reach these places in only a couple hours. His parents and grandfather could never understand. They weren’t dragonriders. To them, trips as far as Aegon had traveled in an afternoon took weeks of planning and weeks more of travel time.
But that was no excuse for chaining Aegon and his siblings down though. They were dragonriders, and they were shackled just as much as the dragons in the Pit. Forbidden from traveling past the Kingswood or to the Mander or too far out into the Bay. It was all nonsense rules set by people who didn’t know how it felt to fly.
Aegon spied his destination rising up in the distance and gawked. Rolling hills covered in dense forests ahead to the west, fields of pure green grass to the south, and the branching rivers of Blackwater Rush to the north. It was the perfect picture of three kingdoms.
He soaked the sight up from the air. The sun was low in the sky over the west. Aegon stayed where he was, watching as the sun creeped down and the kingdoms were drenched in golden light. He absently rubbed Sunfyre’s scales, which burned with that same light. “Let’s turn around, Sunfyre. Back home.”
He had to get his progress. He wanted to travel to these places for more than a glimpse.