Baelon's successful calming of Grey Ghost left him in uncommonly high spirits.
The change was plain to see. His posture was looser, his gaze lighter, even the set of his mouth carried the faint trace of satisfaction. Taming a dragon, even one as timid and gentle as Grey Ghost, was no small triumph. To Baelon, it felt like a quiet victory wrested from fate itself.
But while matters had unfolded smoothly on his side of Dragonmont, the same could not be said for Princess Rhaenyra.
The child entrusted to her care this time was Aemond Targaryen, the third son of King Viserys. And Aemond was far too young.
So young, in truth, that even attempting to claim a young dragon bordered on recklessness.
Viserys himself understood this better than anyone. The true purpose of this journey to Dragonstone had never been born of confidence or expectation. It was, rather, a reluctant concession. A salve meant to quiet Alicent's ceaseless anxiety and her son's growing resentment.
Ever since Prince Aegon had bonded with Sunfyre, Alicent's pleas had grown sharper by the day. Helaena must have a dragon. Aemond must have one too. Each child of hers, she insisted, deserved no less.
The king had endured it for months. In the end, wearied by argument and guilt alike, he agreed to bring them to Dragonstone.
Whether any of them could truly succeed was another matter entirely.
At their age, merely seeing the dragons was already a privilege. What child, barely past his first years, could hope to master the fear and discipline required to claim one? Viserys did not believe it likely.
Still, he was not careless.
For the sake of safety, he had ordered Baelon and Rhaenyra to remain close at all times, guarding the children personally should anything go awry.
It was precisely this precaution that led to disaster.
Aemond's escort, scouring the lower slopes of Dragonmont, discovered a narrow cave mouth half-concealed by jagged stone. After careful inspection, the Dragonkeepers confirmed that it bore the marks of a young dragon's lair. The claw-gouges were shallow. The heat was faint. The signs unmistakable.
At the news, Aemond was overcome with excitement.
Without waiting for further counsel, he urged his men forward and led the way inside.
The tunnel was narrow, the walls thick with unyielding rock. Above, there was no opening wide enough for Syrax to force entry. Rhaenyra circled once, then landed, frustration tightening her jaw.
There was no choice but to wait.
Within the cave, Aemond's thoughts burned hot and wild. His young heart raced with visions of triumph. He imagined himself astride a dragon's back, soaring above Dragonstone, no longer the boy everyone pitied or ignored.
Though still a child, Aemond had already grasped one harsh truth.
A dragon was a Targaryen's true strength.
Ever since his earliest memories, Aegon had lorded Sunfyre over him. The mocking smiles, the careless laughter, the way others looked at him with faint disappointment.
All of it came back to the same thing.
Aemond had no dragon.
"I want one," he thought fiercely. "I want the strongest dragon in the world."
Ambition far too great for his small frame roared within him. Of all the dragons he had ever seen, none had struck him like Tyraxes. The sheer brutality of its presence, the weight of its shadow, had left an indelible mark on his heart.
He wanted Tyraxes.
Yet even Aemond understood fear.
He did not dare test Baelon's patience, nor cross the invisible line that guarded that monstrous dragon. So instead, he placed all his hopes upon Dragonstone.
Even if the dragon was small.
"Prince," said the Dragonkeeper guiding him, lifting an arm to block his path. His voice was careful, edged with unease. "This should be the lair of the hatchling. Young dragons' claws are not yet fully hardened. Their tunnels do not run deep. You should order the soldiers to remain on guard."
"Guard duty?" Aemond snapped, irritation flaring. "Dragon blood runs in my veins. The dragon within will not harm me. All of you, stay back. You will only frighten it."
In his eyes, the soldiers were the true danger.
The Dragonkeeper's face drained of color. He dropped to one knee at once. "Prince, His Grace commanded that we protect you closely. Though you have learned High Valyrian, claiming a dragon is perilous work. At your age-"
He did not finish the sentence.
If anything happened to the king's son, no oath would save him.
"…Very well," Aemond said at last, lips tightening. "A few Dragonkeepers may follow. The rest remain outside. No one enters without my command."
"Yes, Prince," they answered in unison.
The soldiers formed a line at the mouth of the cave, watching as Aemond disappeared into the shadows, flanked by the Dragonkeepers and the glow of their torches.
Deeper within, the tunnel opened into a low chamber.
There, curled upon warm stone, lay a small dragon.
Its body was slender, its wings still narrow, its scales a pale silver-gray that caught the torchlight like mist over moonlit water.
"Prince," one Dragonkeeper whispered, relief plain in his voice, "this is Arrax. The youngest dragon on Dragonstone. Less than a year hatched."
A dragon so young posed little threat. Some hatchlings were too weak even to breathe flame.
In truth, it was one of the safest possibilities.
"…A newborn," Aemond murmured.
Disappointment crept into his voice before he could stop it.
"Though young, Arrax is proud by nature," the Dragonkeeper said quickly, sensing the prince's hesitation. "He will not be easily tamed. Perhaps we should withdraw and seek another-"
"No."
Aemond shook his head, stubborn resolve settling over his features.
Even a hatchling was still a dragon.
Dragons grew. Just as he would.
He knew his limits. Larger dragons were beyond him. Better to claim the youngest and raise it himself, day by day, flame by flame.
If he had to feed it an extra sheep each morning, so be it.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Aemond stepped forward. He raised his right hand, palm open, recalling the lessons drilled into him by the Dragonkeepers.
"Dohaeris," he said in High Valyrian. "I mean you no harm."
For a moment, it worked.
Arrax's tense posture eased. The hatchling's head lowered slightly, eyes narrowing as it studied the small figure before it.
Hope surged through Aemond's chest.
Encouraged, he took another step.
That was enough.
With a shrill screech, Arrax lunged.
The dragon's small body slammed into Aemond with surprising force, knocking him flat. Wings flailed, claws scraping wildly. One foreclaw struck true, raking across the left side of Aemond's face.
A scream tore from his throat.
Blood spilled freely, dark and wet, as agony consumed him. He lay trapped beneath the writhing dragon, terror freezing his limbs.
"Save the prince!" a Dragonkeeper shouted. "Now!"
They moved at once.
Long poles slammed against Arrax's chest and neck, forcing the hatchling back. Another Dragonkeeper seized Aemond under the arms, hauling him free as others drove the dragon away.
"Retreat!" the senior Dragonkeeper barked. "Protect the prince!"
He scooped Aemond into his arms and ran, boots pounding against stone as they fled the cave.
Outside, the soldiers stiffened as the group burst into daylight.
Rhaenyra knew at once that something had gone terribly wrong.
She swung down from Syrax's saddle, eyes widening as she took in the blood-soaked child in the Dragonkeeper's arms.
"What happened?" she demanded.
"Princess," the Dragonkeeper said urgently, voice shaking, "Prince Aemond failed to tame the dragon. His eye has been grievously wounded. He must be taken to the maesters at once."
He placed Aemond into her care, desperation etched into every line of his face.
Rhaenyra hesitated only a heartbeat.
"…I will take him."
Whatever her feelings toward Alicent's son, she could not turn away now.
She helped Aemond onto Syrax's saddle, fastening the chains securely as his sobs turned weak and broken. With a sharp command, she mounted behind him.
Syrax's wings unfurled.
Moments later, the golden dragon leapt into the sky, bearing them toward Dragonstone Castle, as blood dripped from the boy's face and vanished into the sea below.
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A/N: If you think you know what comes next… you don't. The answers are already waiting ahead.
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