The sharp and cold morning wind brushed past Aegon's face. Frost clung to the edges of his gloves. He had wrapped his face, for the air was cold enough to sting his lungs with every breath. Beneath him, Dreamfyre's great wings beat in steady rhythm, pushing against the pale sky. Below, the River Green Fork unfurled like a winding ribbon of steel, its surface glinting faintly in the dim light of dawn. Sparse woods and rolling plains stretched on either side, the land slowly losing the softness of the south.
"Tired~… want to rest."
Dreamfyre's voice rippled through his mind, followed by a low, frustrated growl that sent a shiver through the air.
"Soon, Dreamfyre," Aegon murmured, leaning forward to pat her back. "Soon, we will rest."
It had been almost two full days since they had left the inn at Two Crowns. The Kingsroad lay far behind them now, lost beneath miles of wilderness. He had followed the branching of the Trident faithfully northward, letting the Green Fork guide his way. With each passing league, the air grew colder and the skies lonelier. Villages had become scarce; only scattered farmsteads broke the endless stretches of hills and forest.
Aegon squinted ahead, his eyes narrowing against the wind. Over the horizon, faint shapes were beginning to form where the river bent. Two towers… no, two castles…mirrored each other on either bank of the Green Fork.
"Hah! Dreamfyre," he said, sitting upright, "we've reached our destination!"
Dreamfyre's wings flared slightly, a throaty rumble rolling through the sky. She too had seen them. Her roar, half relief, half impatience, echoed down the valley.
"It seems you truly were tired," Aegon said with a guilty smile.
The scene ahead sharpened as they descended. Two majestic fortresses stood sentinel over the river, identical in every line and stone. Each was surrounded by deep moats, their waters dark and still. Curtain walls rose high, banners fluttering in the morning wind. Between them stretched a bridge of smooth grey rock, arched gracefully over the water; broad enough for two wagons to pass abreast. At its heart stood a fortified tower built directly into the span, commanding the crossing like a watchful eye.
Bells began to toll. From the walls came shouts, guards pointed skyward, some scrambling for bows that trembled in unsteady hands. The sunlight broke through the clouds just as Dreamfyre circled overhead, casting her vast shadow across the twin castles.
"Easy now," Aegon whispered, guiding her into a slow descent toward a small rise north of the western tower.
Her talons struck earth with a heavy thud, scattering dust and loose grass. Steam rose from her nostrils in thick clouds. Aegon remained seated, and listened to the commotion within the walls. Horns sounded, and soon the gates groaned open. A troop of riders spilled forth, banners of pale blue and silver snapping above their heads as they cantered hesitantly toward the dragon.
Their horses balked long before they reached him; snorting, stamping, refusing to move closer. Dreamfyre's eyes followed their approach. Aegon smirked faintly and raised a hand, signaling them to stop.
The lead knight, a man in mail with a long nose, dismounted and took a hesitant step forward. His armor clinked softly, the only sound besides Dreamfyre's deep breathing. For a heartbeat, the man simply stared. The morning light caught Aegon's hair as the wind swept it back, strands of pale silver-gold glinting in the sunlight. Every child in the realm knew that color. Moreover, riding a dragon left no room for doubt. Aegon's eyes, clear and lilac, met the knight's own.
The knight immediately bowed.
"M-my lord!" he called, his voice cracking but earnest. "W-welcome… welcome to House Frey!"
Aegon looked down at him with a smile. Behind him, Dreamfyre shifted, her jaws parting to show rows of white teeth, an intimidating sight. The knight stepped back a pace, trembling.
"Well met," Aegon said aloud, his tone carrying over the cold air. "Tell your lord that Prince Aegon Targaryen has come to visit the Crossing."
Serena moved swiftly down the spiral stair, her hand brushing the stone wall for balance as her husband matched her pace beside her. The chill of the morning lingered even within the keep. Forrest Frey, Lord of the Crossing, was still struggling with the buttons of his tunic, and Serena cast him a sharp look.
"Button it properly," she whispered. Her own maid hurried behind, clutching the trailing hem of Serena's gown to keep it from brushing the steps. "Is my dress straight?" Serena asked, glancing down at the folds of pale blue silk.
"Yes, my lady," the maid said softly, though her hands still darted forward to adjust the fall of the fabric and smooth the clasp at her waist.
Serena looked to her husband again, lowering her voice. "Why do you think the pyromancer prince has come so suddenly? Without word? There must be meaning behind it."
"We'll know when we meet him," Forrest replied, his tone composed but cautious.
They reached the heavy doors of the hall, where guards stood ready. At a nod from their lord, the iron hinges creaked and swung open.
"Lord and Lady Frey of the Crossing!" the guard announced.
Inside, a lone figure stood awaiting them. A young man, in a black and blue light armor, stood straight, showing the bearing of royalty. Silver-gold hair caught the sunlight through the windows; his lilac eyes turned toward them as they entered.
Handsome, Serena thought, a flicker of curiosity lighting her expression.
"My prince," Forrest said, bowing low. Serena followed his motion gracefully.
"Lord and Lady Frey," the boy said courteously. "I hope my sudden visit did not trouble you."
"N-no, not at all, my prince," Forrest replied quickly, straightening with a polite smile. "It is an honour to host you."
Serena added her own warm smile. "The prince is welcome at any time. The House of Frey will always open its gates to House Targaryen."
The prince chuckled softly. "You are gracious. To be honest…I am bound for the North, and thought to visit the famed Crossing once before I go."
Forrest's lips curved into a smile. "Then our reputation has served us well, to earn the favour of a royal visitor." Turning slightly, he gestured to the guards. "See that a feast is prepared… one fit for the blood of dragons."
Serena's eyes lingered on the young man a moment longer as the guards hurried to obey. She stepped forward, her tone light but poised. "We shall see that you are shown the full measure of House Frey's hospitality, my prince."
The feast consisted of fresh fish from the Green Fork and platters of roasted fowl, served with wild fruits and local vegetables. Along with Lord Frey and his lady…sat a handful of close knights and kin, all gathered around the long oaken table. The smell of baked bread and wine filled the hall.
Forrest Frey gulped his wine, his pale eyes fixed on Aegon.
"The North," he said, setting his cup down, "is a long road, my prince. Few travelers take it in spring, when the snow has not yet melted. May I ask if His Grace, your grandsire, knows of your journey?"
Aegon smiled lightly. "he does. Of course he does. It was the king himself who suggested I take a day of rest at the Twins."
Forrest and his wife exchanged a glance, mild surprise flickering between them. Then both smiled with renewed warmth. Aegon continued to eat, pretending not to notice their silent exchange, though his eyes lingered on them beneath his calm expression.
"My prince, if I may?" Serena asked, her voice low, courteous.
"Please," Aegon said, gesturing with a hand.
"Um… why is the prince traveling north?"
"Oh," he replied easily, "it is because I felt a little cooped up on Dragonstone. Moreover, I have always wanted to see the Wall."
Forrest chuckled, swirling the wine in his cup. "The Wall… even I have never seen it. I've only heard tales; cold winds, endless ice, a sight both terrible and grand."
The conversation drifted pleasantly after that. Lady Serena's tone remained polite, though Aegon sensed the subtle sharpness behind her questions. She pried delicately, searching for hints of purpose behind his sudden visit, but each time he slipped past her probes with light words, half-truths, and feigned ignorance. Forrest, ever cautious, intervened whenever his wife's curiosity pressed too far, maintaining a veneer of courtesy over the table.
So the game continued, a careful play of words and glances until the last of the wine was poured and the feast came to its end.
"We seldom see dragonriders this far inland," Serena said as the servants began clearing the dishes. Her tone was gentle, almost admiring. "The smallfolk along the river will speak of it for years, I think."
Aegon's smile deepened. "Then I pray their tales are kind ones, my lady."
Forrest rose, smoothing his tunic. "Come, my prince. I will give you a tour of the Twins before the day grows old."
"I would very much like that," Aegon replied, rising as well. "Ah... one more thing. Could Lord Frey send a few cattle to my dragon for feeding? She grows restless when hungry."
"Of course, my prince," Serena said, inclining her head with grace. "Though… if I might be so bold, I would request to see Dreamfyre more closely."
Aegon smiled faintly. "You shall."
Later, Aegon retired to the chamber prepared for him, pleading weariness. He had planned to stay for the night and depart on the morrow, but both Lord and Lady Frey urged him to remain a few days longer. At last, he relented, agreeing to stay another night.
The room was comfortable, better furnished than he expected, with a proper hearth, carved beams, and a window that opened to the western riverbend. The Freys had been generous, assigning him a small retinue of guards and maids to see to his needs.
He dined alone that evening in his room. When the last of the servants withdrew, leaving the plates cleared and candles guttering low, Aegon went to the window. The sun was sinking beyond the horizon, casting its dusky light across the Green Fork. From above, the two towers mirrored each other in the water, their banners rippling faintly in the wind. Down in the courtyard, guards were changing their posts, torches flaring to life one by one.
As Aegon prepared to end the day and take his rest, a sudden knock sounded upon his door. He turned from the window, frowning slightly at the interruption. "Enter," he said, but the knock came again, softer this time.
Crossing the chamber, he unlatched the door and pulled it open. Standing before him was Cayla Frey, the niece of Lord Frey. She blushed as their eyes met, her gaze darting away almost at once. A curtain of beautiful red hair fell loosely over one shoulder, gleaming in the candlelight.
She wore a thin gown of green silk that clung close to her figure, complementing her snow-white skin and emerald eyes. The neckline cut lower than modesty required, framing her chest tightly enough to form soft, full swells and a tempting valley between.
Aegon watched her in silence for a moment, speechless at her sudden appearance.
He remembered her well from the feast earlier that day. Lord Frey had boasted of her beauty a little more than of the others while introducing his kin, and she had sat beside a young knight; her betrothed, though Aegon had already forgotten the man's name. The knight's pride had been evident, his face glowing with self-satisfaction as others teased him gently, laughter echoing across the table.
Aegon recalled it now with faint amusement. So that was it, he thought wryly. No wonder the Freys were eager to parade her before me.
It was plain enough to him now that the girl's attire had not been chosen by chance. Beneath all their courtesy and polished manners, Aegon could see their intent clearly. The Freys, ever ambitious, sought to entwine their bloodline with that of the dragonlords. And what better target than a young prince?
Before he could speak, Lady Cayla lowered her eyes, and whispered, her voice trembling like a string drawn too tight. "M-my prince," she stammered, "I… I wished to see if you were comfortable. If the chamber is to your liking."
Her cheeks flushed deeper, as she continued. "T-the Freys…pride themselves on their hospitality." She paused, gathering courage. "But I wished to extend it personally, my prince… if you have need of anything further." Then, in a lower, shy voice, like an intimate whisper: "If you would allow me to warm your bed…"
***
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