The birth of a child is more than just the arrival of a new life; it represents the continuation of a family's legacy. In an era marked by high infant mortality, having many children was not only a strategy to secure a family's future but also a testament to its strength and vitality.
The newest Targaryen heir was named Valerion, a name honoring an esteemed ancestor of the royal line. King Jaehaerys hoped that, like Gaemon before him, Valerion could overcome the hardships of infancy and survive with resilience.
Though Grand Maester Fenil reported Valerion's physical condition in secrecy to the king, Gaimon, attuned to life force as a dragon vein sorcerer, could immediately sense the fragility of the infant. The child's life force flickered like a candle in the wind, threatening to be extinguished at any moment. Recognizing the urgency, Gaimon proposed personally overseeing the newborn's care. After discussion, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne agreed.
Despite being only four years old, Gaimon's unique magical abilities offered hope that no conventional medicine could. Since Grand Maester Fenil's reports brought constant disappointment to the royal couple, Gaimon became their last beacon of hope, living among them and tending to Valerion in his own unconventional way.
Contrary to what the king and queen secretly feared, Gaimon did not resort to blood magic. Instead, he began by adjusting the infant's diet and daily routines. The first change was simple but crucial: clean, boiled water. In a time when sanitation in King's Landing was abysmal, water sources were often contaminated, leaving alcohol as the safer alternative for quenching thirst.
To provide pure water, Gaimon instructed that sand and gravel be added to the castle's reservoirs to filter impurities, followed by heating to eliminate microorganisms.
Beyond nutrition, Gaimon addressed the child's environment. He ordered that the room be ventilated daily, opening windows to allow fresh air in. The Red Keep, facing the crowded, foul-smelling city, typically kept windows closed, blocking stench but creating warm, humid, and stagnant conditions—ideal for the growth of harmful bacteria and fungi. In an age without antibiotics, these pathogens were often lethal to newborns.
Gaimon's first priority was to minimize Valerion's exposure to such threats. He also prepared a secret weapon: allicin, a simple yet effective antibiotic. Drawing from knowledge of his previous life in ancient China, Gaimon devised a method to extract it using garlic and high-concentration alcohol. Though not as powerful as modern antibiotics, allicin could combat common infant ailments like bronchitis and pneumonia, as well as inhibit bacterial growth.
The production process was straightforward. Purple garlic was peeled, mashed, and mixed with wine at a ratio of roughly 1:10. After stirring and sealing for one to three hours, the mixture was filtered, then gently evaporated to yield a concentrated allicin solution.
Once Gaimon implemented these changes, Valerion's health slowly improved. King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne observed this remarkable recovery with curiosity. They understood it was neither magic nor blood rituals; Gaimon's methods were simple, practical, and logical—though to them, the science behind it was indistinguishable from sorcery.
Only Vigen, who assisted Gaimon in producing allicin, could comprehend the methods fully. For Vigen, a lifelong lover of knowledge, witnessing the practical application of such insights was a revelation. What he had once studied purely for curiosity now held the power to combat diseases that had plagued Westeros for generations.
After mastering allicin production, Vigen began questioning Gaimon about other forms of knowledge. Gaimon, never stingy with his understanding, shared everything he knew, including insights into penicillin and sulfonamide antibiotics gleaned from short videos of his previous life. Vigen, thrilled by the possibilities, immersed himself in study, intent on realizing the potential of these "miracle drugs."
However, creating penicillin and sulfonamides with the technology available in Westeros proved impossible for Vigen alone. Recognizing the limitations of the era, Gaimon understood that achieving these breakthroughs would require more than their current resources.
A year after Valerion's birth, Gaimon made a request that startled the Targaryen family: he wished to study at the Citadel in Oldtown. King Jaehaerys was initially reluctant, wary of sending a child so young to such a distant place. But after thoughtful discussion, the king agreed, understanding that Gaimon's pursuit of knowledge could benefit not only Valerion but the realm as a whole.
Before Vigen departed for the Citadel, Gaimon shared his long-term plans. Listening, Vigen was struck by the ambition of a child barely five years old. He had always considered himself intelligent, yet he realized he had confined himself to the narrow boundaries of family and royal service. Here was a child whose vision of the future dwarfed his own—a revelation that sparked in Vigen a profound sense of purpose and heroism.
Together, they planned Vigen's study at the Citadel, with Gaimon guiding him in focus and ambition. For Vigen, the path was clear: to dedicate himself to the pursuit of knowledge and to lay the foundation for the scientific advances that could one day transform Westeros.
Meanwhile, Valerion thrived under Gaimon's care. Every day, the child grew stronger, a living testament to the fusion of wisdom and practicality. Where once the infant's life seemed fragile and precarious, hope now shone brightly.
For the royal family, Gaimon's presence was a constant source of amazement. The boy's intellect and insight, far beyond his years, allowed him to solve problems that had stumped generations of Maesters. And while the king and queen could not fully comprehend the science behind his methods, they trusted in the results. In Gaimon's hands, even the most insurmountable challenges seemed manageable.
Valerion's recovery was steady but not instantaneous. Gaimon monitored the child's nutrition, temperature, and environment meticulously, ensuring every detail supported the baby's health. He taught attendants proper hygiene, ventilation, and the careful preparation of food and drink. Every precaution, no matter how small, became a shield against illness.
Through these measures, the Red Keep began to transform subtly. Windows were opened more regularly, sunlight touched rooms that had long been shrouded in darkness, and cleaner water reduced disease among those who had long suffered from the city's filth.
Beyond physical care, Gaimon nurtured Valerion with attention and affection. He spoke to the infant, sang softly, and engaged in gentle play, knowing that emotional well-being was as crucial as physical health. In every gesture, Gaimon's wisdom shone, reflecting a deep understanding that life could flourish only when all aspects of care were attended to.
As weeks turned into months, Valerion's vitality became apparent to all. The child's growth, previously uncertain, now progressed steadily. King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne watched with growing awe and gratitude, realizing that Gaimon's unconventional methods had not only preserved their son's life but had also introduced a new perspective on healing—one grounded in observation, logic, and care rather than superstition.
Vigen, meanwhile, immersed himself in the knowledge of the Citadel. Letters arrived periodically, detailing his studies, experiments, and discoveries. He applied Gaimon's teachings to practical problems, gradually mastering the principles that could one day allow him to produce true antibiotics.
For Gaimon, these years were as much about preparing the future as they were about protecting the present. He nurtured Valerion, guided Vigen, and envisioned a Westeros where knowledge, rather than fear, could dominate disease and suffering. His ambition was vast, yet methodical; every action he took had purpose, every lesson imparted was calculated to ensure lasting impact.
Through patience, intelligence, and foresight, Gaimon ensured that Valerion not only survived but thrived. The infant's life force, once so tenuous, now burned steadily, a bright flame that promised to endure for years to come. In the quiet moments, the child's laughter and soft coos reminded all who observed him that hope, no matter how fragile, could be nurtured into life.
Thus, in the heart of the Red Keep, amidst the intrigues and dangers of the royal court, a small but profound revolution quietly unfolded. It was a revolution of knowledge, of care, and of science—guided by the wisdom of a child who saw beyond the limitations of his time. And as Valerion grew stronger, the foundations of a future where life could triumph over the perils of the age were steadily being laid, brick by careful brick.
By the time Vigen returned from the Citadel years later, both he and Gaimon had set the stage for a Westeros transformed. Their combined efforts promised a future where death from common disease was no longer inevitable, and where the strength of knowledge rivaled even the mightiest dragons.
In Valerion's survival and Gaimon's vision, the Targaryen dynasty witnessed the birth of more than a child: they witnessed the dawn of a new era, one in which wisdom, science, and foresight could bend even fate itself to the will of those daring enough to seek it.
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