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Divide and Conquer, Chapter 14: The Children of the Dragon
🕑 Added 2025-01-21 17:03:01 +0000 UTCSixth Moon, 107 AD (6 AC)
Aerion Targaryen
“Aerion, come up here and demonstrate for your siblings,” his mother commanded, gesturing ever so slightly to the slab of obsidian resting on the stone mound.
“Yes Mother,” Aerion answered obediently, walking up to the obsidian before his mother raised her hand.
“Before Aerion starts, would anyone like to give their thoughts on what he’s doing? You can put your hand down Valaena, I know you know. Let your younger siblings learn for once,” his mother said.
His younger brother Aegor put his hand up. “He’s going to try and wake fire from the obsidian.”
Their mother smiled proudly. “Yes. Zīrtys perzys, our ancestors called it. Frozen fire. The smallfolk in these lands call it dragonglass instead, and both names are more than apt, for obsidian is forged deep in the earth from the volcanic heat and fires below. Those with talent, and those like us especially with the blood of the dragon, are able to wake that frozen fire and draw it out from dragonglass. This frozen fire is not infinite however, and once it is emptied the dragonglass from whence it came will need time to reabsorb the heat of the world before fire can be awakened from it again. Preferably in a place that is warm and heated to speed up the process.”
Turning back to his siblings, his mother asked another question. “Does anyone know why we need to use dragonglass to draw fire?”
Blank and worried faces were the response. None of his siblings knew the answer, save one. “Very well Valaena,” his mother said at last when she saw the others did not know.
His ‘twin’ sister had a pleased smile on her face as she answered. “Because we can’t draw fire from nothing.”
“Yes. Exactly. Magic has a price and fire is no different. It needs a source of some kind, be it from fire that has already been lit by mundane means, or the use of powders and friction to start a new fire on the spot or woken from dragonglass where it has been ‘frozen’,” his mother continued, and his younger siblings nodded in understanding.
“You may proceed Aerion,” his mother informed him and he nodded.
Taking a deep breath, Aerion placed his hand over the dragonglass shard. Sometimes steel or some other metal would be used to scratch the dragonglass and make direct contact, but today Aerion sought to draw it out without such crutches. The principle was not unsimilar to how one would project their will onto a glass candle, both were made out of obsidian after all and the fire that lit from a glass candle was derived in some way from the frozen fire held within, if heavily enchanted and made capable of doing many other things.
He was of the blood of the dragon, bonded to a dragon. The magic of fire ran through his veins and he could feel it calling to him as he stretched his will into the dragonglass, feeling the fire within stir to life and the heat begin to swell before it poured out of the obsidian into a stream that he bent to his will as it surrounded him, ready for him to do with it as he pleased.
Aerion had no fear of being burnt. Part of being a pyromancer meant training your control and mastering your fire, it meant conditioning your body to become resistant to the heat and flames, and this was all in addition to Aerion already being a dragonrider, with all that implied when it came to the natural heat resistance and affinity for the art of fire magic in his very blood. In the days of Old Valyria, it was said that even a novice pyromancer would have little need to fear the heat of their own flames or the fires produced by mundane means, and the greatest of fire mages would fear no flame but the breath of dragons, the alchemists’ wildfire, the power of their strongest rivals, and the fires of the earth below.
Narrowing his eyes on the wooden target ahead of him, Aerion thrust out his hand, willing the fire to follow as it surged forward in a column of flame and immolated the wood, leaving charred and blackened pieces amongst a pile of ashes and embers. He released his control over the flames and left them to continue burning what remained.
His siblings all looked amazed, especially Daena and Aenar who were the youngest present at 8 and 7 respectively and had little training in magic. All of this was very new to them and there was a wonder in their eyes that very much reminded Aerion of how he had been when his mother had first introduced all of this to him.
He wondered if Aemon and Elaena would be the same when they started learning in a few years’ time. Both of them had begged to join in on their lessons but his mother had forbidden it. They were too young, she had said, and Aerion could not deny that. Neither of them were even yet 5, though Aemon’s fifth nameday was in a few months. Instead of magic classes, both of his youngest siblings had been sent to learn from the Dragonkeepers in continuing to train their dragons. He would have to remember to visit them and see how that was going later.
His mother clapped her hands in approval. “Well done, Aerion,” she said before she turned her hand and all the flames flew from the burning target into her outstretched palm, extinguishing the fire on the target and placing it all in his mother’s hand.
“This is what I mean by using fire that has already been lit. You can draw upon flames that already exist in the world and manipulate them as you please, deflecting them or even controlling them. A skilled enough pyromancer might even usurp flames under the control of another mage should they be the greater of the two or catch their opponent by surprise,” his mother explained before she held out the flame in her hands to Daena and Aenar.
“You can touch it. The flame is completely under my control. It will not burn you unless I allow it.”
Neither of his younger siblings looked all that eager to place their hands into an open flame but they eventually complied. Their hesitance turned into wonder as they turned their hand over and over again in the fire in his mother’s palm.
“It doesn’t hurt at all! It feels warm, and soothing!” Daena exclaimed.
“Like a hot bath,” Aenar agreed.
His mother smiled. “Indeed. But be mindful, for even now the fire wants nothing more than to consume you both and I am the only thing stopping it from doing so,” she said as she unleashed the fire ever so slightly, enough to make his siblings uncomfortable so they drew their hands away but not enough to hurt them.
“Control is of the essence. You must master your fire, bend it to your will. Let it consume only what you desire. Let it burn only what you allow. If you fail to master this, you will hurt not just yourself but everyone and everything around you.
“That is why I need you both to swear to me, as all your older siblings did,” his mother said, her voice becoming deadly serious. “Never practice magic without my supervision or permission until the day I deem you ready.”
Aenar and Daena both nodded frantically.
A question seemed to occur to his sister Rhaena then as she made an inquiry. “Are there any limits to what flames we can control Aunt Visenya? You mentioned being able to take control of and manipulate flames that already exist in the world, does that mean we could put out forest fires or volcanoes and use their power? Could we control and direct the flames of our dragons?”
His mother chuckled. “Some fine questions there Rhaena. There are limits of course, often dependent on the skill and power of the pyromancer in question and the nature and size of the fire they seek to control. Forest fires for example, depending on their size, multiple mages might be able to control or redirect them or even perhaps a single talented and strong pyromancer. As for volcanoes, fire mages can draw heat and power from a volcano to fuel their own magic and it was said that legions of the greatest fire mages would maintain the Fourteen Flames of old and keep them from erupting… though given how that ended, perhaps they were not as great as they thought they were.
“As for the dragons… some flames like dragonfire or wildfire have an inherent magic and greatness that makes controlling them difficult at best. To contest the will of the dragons especially, fire made flesh, on where their fire goes would be nigh impossible. Your parents and I certainly tried when we were younger and while there is progress of sorts in managing wildfire, we all agreed it would be pointless to try and control dragonfire, especially if such methods could be used by others to shield themselves and make our dragons less powerful.”
Rhaena nodded in understanding before his mother continued, the fire still glowing in her palm.
“Who is to say though what is and isn’t possible? All that we know, all that I have shown you, it is just a fraction of what our Valyrian ancestors knew. The tomes tell tales of the ancient fire mages mastering the Fourteen Flames and drawing fire from their own blood that was stronger and hotter than anything save for dragonfire, wildfire, and the fires of the earth, yet such things are beyond our knowledge now. And not just for fire magic, but for everything.
“Valyrian steel, dragonstone, dragonhorns and spells, flesh shaping, enchantments, rituals, and so much more. Old Valyria forgot more magic in a single day than we have remembered in the century since its doom. Even our blood magic is nothing more than a shadow of its former self, little more than frivolous spells, rituals, and potions fit only for fertility, poisons, petty curses, and minor temporary strength enhancements.”
“But why?” Aenar asked, tilting his head curiously.
“I second his question,” Rhaena said. “Though we were not the greatest among them, were we not still one of the Forty Families? The greatest and highest families of dragonlords and sorcerers in all of Valyria and the world entire. Why do we have so little? Why has so much been lost in but a mere century? Did Aenar the Exile fail to bring it with him when he left Valyria?”
Aerion smiled. He had asked that same question once years ago. He paid rapt attention to how his siblings reacted as his mother began telling the tale.
“It’s not impossible that in his haste Aenar did not bring with him as much as he should have, but at the same time that is also unlikely. Our histories say he sold all the family’s holdings and took all of our possessions and family members after all. There is a legend that has been passed down in the family that could explain it though, one that was passed down to my siblings and I from our father Aerion, who had it passed down to him from his father Daemion.”
“Well? What is it then?” Daena was eager.
“Patience my dear,” his mother rebuked his sister lightly before beginning her tale. “As we all know, Aenar the Exile was the first from Valyria with his two sister-wives, Viserra the elder and Rhaenyra the younger, and they had but two children, both of whom had been born in Valyria before the Doom,” his mother began.
“Gaemon the Glorious and Daenys the Dreamer. He singlehandedly destroyed Harwyn Hardhand’s fleet when the Ironmen foolishly tried to conquer Dragonstone, and her dreams of the Doom convinced Aenar to choose exile over death,” Aegor interjected, eager to show off his knowledge of their family’s history.
“That’s right,” their mother praised, making Aegor smile before she continued.
"Gaemon and Daenys in turn had three children, the twins Aegon and Elaena whom your father and youngest sister are named for and a younger daughter Aerea that was dragonless and married into House Celtigar. Aegon and Elaena would later wed and rule Dragonstone together and they had four children. First two sons and a daughter, Maegon, Aerys, and Daena (yes, I know that’s your name Daena), and after many years, a second younger daughter, Rhaelle, who had a considerable age gap between her and her older siblings, even greater than that between Aerion and Elaena in our family.
“By tradition, Maegon and Daena were supposed to wed, the eldest son to the eldest daughter. However, Daena loved Maegon not and greatly preferred Aerys who was closer to her in age and temperament. The two eloped against their family’s will, and much to their older brother’s consternation, their parents relented in the end, sowing the seeds for a feud between Maegon and Aerys. Rather than marry a Velaryon or some other lesser woman, Maegon decided to wait for his youngest sister Rhaelle to come of age to marry, but in the meantime their parents would die and Aerys and Daena would have three sons, Aelyx, Baelon, Daemion, and a daughter Aelinor.
“As Lord, Maegon feuded bitterly with Aerys and Daena and lacking heirs of his own while they had four, he eventually came to suspect that his brother and sister meant to overthrow him. Always the most magically inclined of his siblings, he began to hoard much of the family’s magic and dragon lore in a hidden vault to keep it away from them and maintain his grip on power and then a series of unfortunate events struck the family in rapid succession. Mishaps, accidents, infighting, greyscale, and the like. One by one, Maegon, Aerys, Aelyx, and Baelon all died, each in turn, barely long enough to be recognized as Lord of Dragonstone some of them, and the lordship came at last to my grandfather Daemion at the tender young age of ten, with the vault gone and his father, brothers, and uncle dead.
“Daemion would later marry his younger sister Aelinor, my grandmother, and they had my father, Aerion. His aunt Rhaelle, now left without a brother to wed, married Lord Valentine Velaryon and they had my uncle Daemon, my mother Valaena, and my aunts Larissa and Aella who married into Houses Massey and Celtigar. Generations passed and Maegon’s vault passed into legend,” his mother concluded the story.
His siblings looked enthralled by her storytelling and Aerion smirked. He had been much the same once. It still grated sometimes though, to know that they could have had so much more had it not been for the petty squabbles of their forebears.
“So, does the vault really exist then? Or is it just a family legend?” Aegor asked.
“Hmm. My grandfather and father both searched for the vault in their time as Lord, and your father, Aunt Rhaenys, and I did the same. Those searches are what gave us the pitiful scraps of magical knowledge and the glass candles we have now but we never found any trace or hint of this vault. I have no doubt it does exist though; the story is too detailed and too recent to be untrue, but we have not had the time or the need to seek it out ever since we took the Riverlands. Maybe one day, one of you will find it,” his mother said with a teasing smile.
Aerion could not help but return the smile. He had not missed that his mother had not once lost control of the flame in her hand as she told the story, nor had she let it go out. Such mastery of magic had never ceased to amaze and inspire him, and he could not help but wonder how much greater she could be if they rediscovered the vault. How much greater they all could be.
That would be something wouldn’t it? Their family’s magic restored to them, yet another step along the path in asserting their position as the greatest and most powerful house in the world. It was a nice vision and he could not help but aspire to it. Perhaps when he was a little older, he might take a trip to Dragonstone with Valaena and they could see if they could find it.
With the story at an end, his mother was quick to return to the lesson at hand. She reached out her other hand to the dragonglass slab and drew out what remained of the frozen fire within, combining it with the existing flames in her other hand before she demonstrated a number of techniques, shaping the flames into whips, fireballs, pillars of flame, and more, before setting each of them a task to do something similar based on their level. She then took Aenar and Daena aside to teach them about the basics of fire magic and how to reach their will into dragonglass and awaken the frozen fire within.
The lesson was unfortunately cut short only a few minutes later however with a series of knocks on the door. “Come in,” his mother called out politely, though Aerion could tell she was doing her best to hide her displeasure. Unless it was something truly urgent, whatever poor servant or guard that disturbed the Queen when she was teaching magic would regret it.
His mother’s anger soon dissipated like it was never there to begin however.
“Father/Mother!” Daena and Aenar shouted at the same time as they rushed to their father and Aunt Rhaenys respectively.
Aerion and the rest of his siblings were much more reserved in their greetings than their exuberant younger brother and sister but they were no less pleased to see their father and aunt/mother.
After his father and aunt had asked after their progress and day, their mood turned more serious as they turned to his mother. “Visenya, it’s time for the meeting,” his aunt Rhaenys said.
“Already? I must have lost track of the time. Very well then,” she answered before turning to Aerion and his siblings. “Class dismissed. All of you can take the day off from the rest of your lessons. Magic can be quite tiring.”
“Hooray!” some of his younger siblings cheered and Aerion could not help but chuckle at their exuberance, especially since his mother wasn’t even done speaking yet.
“And remember, we will be practicing with glass candles in our next lesson so be prepared for that!” she shouted at them though he wondered if they even heard her words.
“Aerion, Valaena, make sure to clean up the room and see your siblings are removed from it safely,” his mother instructed and they both nodded their heads in acknowledgement.
As his parents and aunt started to walk away, however, a realization came to Aerion’s mind and he called out after them. “Should Valaena and I attend this meeting as well?”
They paused in their steps before they turned back. It was his father who answered. “Not this time Aerion. You should enjoy your day off.”
Then as if the thought had just occurred to him, he added, “Oh, and if you and your siblings intend to visit the city, make sure the Dragonguard are informed.”
He was left feeling a bit conflicted as they walked away to their meeting. Most of his younger siblings wouldn’t understand because they were just not as involved in the council as he was, but he knew that this was no ordinary meeting his parents and aunt were going to. Five years had already passed since the Westerlands and Iron Islands had been conquered and now that winter had finally come to an end, his parents were preparing for their next campaign, this time against the Vale.
Once again, their parents would leave him and his siblings to continue bringing their vision of a united imperial Westeros to fruition, and once again he and his siblings would not be allowed to follow. Only this time, his father had made it clear to him that now that he was three and ten, he expected Aerion to rule in their stead in Summerhall. He would of course have the Elder Council to guide him but as the heir, the final word would ultimately be his.
It was written in stone and sealed in blood. Codified right at the heart of Aegon’s Code. A succession law that placed Aerion first among his siblings as the eldest brother. He knew the law was still a work in progress, that his parents and aunt were continually adding details to it as they thought of them over time, adding in clauses with regards to polygamy, women, dragons, and so much more. In time it might evolve into a whole set of laws that would serve as the foundations for their dynasty’s stability and rule but no matter what, it did not change the most important thing.
Aerion was heir. Not his brothers Aegor, Aenar, or Aemon who came after him, not their sisters Valaena, Rhaena, Daena, and Elaena who came after them. Aerion was the eldest son, and the eldest overall among them all. Sometimes he wondered if the weight of that expectation was too much. He had so many duties and responsibilities, training in the yard to master the sword, training with his mother to master magic, learning from his tutors to increase his knowledge and wisdom, sitting in on the council to learn about the realm’s matters, it went on and on.
Part of him could not help but feel grateful for the break that he had been given but another corner of his mind felt resentful. Did his parents think him incapable of handling all that they had entrusted him with? The thought unnerved him more than he would admit. He wondered if he’d ever get the chance to prove to them just how well they had raised him, that he was capable of contributing to their vision as well.
A sudden squeeze on his hand broke him out of his thoughts. “What are you thinking so much about?”
Aerion smiled. His ‘twin’ was always a vision to see. Bright and cheerful lilac eyes on a face that looked like it had been carved from perfection itself. Silver-gold hair cascaded down her back that almost made her shine in the sun, and the smile on her lips never failed to make his heart skip a beat.
He called her his twin but of course, they weren’t really. They had been born from different mothers but on the same day and they had been raised together. Aerion couldn’t remember a day in his life that Valaena hadn’t been by his side, and he never wanted to imagine a day she wasn’t either.
“Just thinking about things,” he answered.
“And these things put such a frown on your handsome face?” she asked him as she locked their hands together.
Aerion chuckled. Valaena knew him so well. That reminded him that he wasn’t alone. All of his lessons, all of his responsibilities, Valaena was right there beside him. She learned magic at his side, learned from the same tutors that he did, sat in on the council just like he did. The only difference was that he trained with the sword and she with the sewing needle, not that that had ever stopped her from taking said sewing needle to the training yard so she could practice while she watched him train.
One day she would be his queen, his empress, and she would rule by his side as their mothers did their father. She was his twin, his other half. If there was no one else in the world he could confide in, Valaena would always be there. And so he did, relating his thoughts to her as best as he could. Valaena did not judge, she never did. She listened to him patiently and when he had finished she turned to him.
“We are only three and ten Aerion. I can’t say I don’t understand your feelings, but maybe you are overthinking things too much sometimes,” she said.
“So wise,” he teased her.
“I always am,” she retorted.
“And yet a completely different part of me cannot help but regret that we are only three and ten,” he said, his eyes roaming appreciatively over his sister’s form. She had only just recently flowered but she was already starting to come into her womanly form, with a wonderful shape beginning to form in her hips and curves for her waist and breasts.
“My eyes are up here Aerion,” she teased him.
“Oh, I know,” he said with a smile, his eyes flicking back up to meet her eyes but stopping short at her neck instead.
“You’re still wearing the necklace,” he observed, feeling pleased.
“Of course I am,” she said, with the slightest of blushes on her cheeks. “You gave it to me.”
That he did. It had been a gift he had presented to her on their shared nameday a few months ago. One of the blood-rubies mined from the depths of the Fourteen Flames of Valyria of Old, an heirloom of their house, cut into the shape of a diamond or a rhombus as his father’s scholars would call it to distinguish it from the jewel of the same name. It was set into a similarly shaped gold brace with eight ornate circular gems at the corners and midpoints of the brace.
Aerion supposed those eight gems could represent him and all of his siblings, Valaena included, the eight children of their father, Aegon the Conqueror, but he hadn’t really had such thoughts in mind. He had just liked the pattern and design those extra gems had made.
“I haven’t gone a day without wearing it since,” she confessed and Aerion realized with a start that was true as he searched his memories of the past few months. The feeling of pride and pleasure only continued to swell in his heart though it did embarrass him a little as well.
“I guess you’re just reinforcing your nickname at this point,” Aerion japed and Valaena blushed.
The court had joked that Valaena was the ruby of his eye after he had given her the necklace and some had even called her the Ruby Princess, to go with the moniker both of them had had since they were toddlers, ‘The Red Twins’. He had blushed right alongside Valaena at the time but he couldn’t deny the name fit her very well indeed.
Sometimes he wished that he and Valaena were allowed to wed already, that the laws their parents had created didn’t also apply to them. Their parents had codified the minimum age for either boys or girls to be wedded and bedded as six and ten, when they came of age and were considered men and women. Aerion could understand the laws, even agree with them, but still, having to wait another three years to marry his beloved still displeased him.
They would just have to make do with a betrothal he supposed. One that had been announced years ago already, as had been the betrothals of many of their younger siblings. Even those that weren’t formally betrothed due to their age were understood to be due to the fact that his parents had been blessed with even pairs of children. Four sons and four daughters.
The Riverlands, their most trusted and loyal heartlands and peoples had only cheers to give, not truly caring about the supposed sins of incest. The Exceptionalism his parents and aunt had worked so hard to introduce had truly taken root, and he knew his aunt Rhaenys in particular had paid many bards to sing praises of their family across the realm and on the importance of their exceptional ways. It had also done much to cement their nicknames and epithets and those of their dragons, though Aerion himself had not yet earned himself one beyond the moniker of ‘Red’ that he shared with Valaena.
He had however, also heard whispers of how some in the Westerlands were less approving of his and his sister’s love or even their very existence, however. A sentiment shared by much of Westeros outside their borders. They were reported to the council by their kingdom’s Eyes and Rangers and it never ceased to infuriate him. What right did lesser men like them have to judge them? What right did they have to dictate who they could and could not love? If they dared to try and do anything, he would show them the wrath of the dragon.
Aerion did his best to rein in his anger. Now was not the time to dwell on such things. Instead, with Valaena at his side, he cleaned up the room and put back all the tools and magical equipment, leaving the dragonglass shard under the sun to absorb the heat better and replenish its frozen fire before he ordered all of his siblings out of the room.
“Would you like to visit the city?” he asked Valaena. “We could inform the Dragonguard, visit Aemon and Elaena on the roof, and then go.”
“Sounds good to me.” Valaena smiled.
Hand in hand they walked down the corridor, intending to head up the stairs to the roof before they heard footsteps behind them. They turned to see Aegor had followed them.
“You’re going to the city? Can I come?” he asked hopefully. Rhaena, Aenar, and Daena were not far behind him.
Aerion hesitated. He was pretty sure his father was mostly addressing him and Valaena when he had said what he did, their younger siblings had never gone into the city without their parents, escort or no, and beyond that, he didn’t really want to babysit his younger siblings and distract himself from spending time with Valaena. No, today was just for the two of them.
He reached out and ruffled his little brother’s hair. Gods he was getting tall. Two years his younger and yet already near as tall and muscular as him. He was already proving a menace to defeat in the yard and a terror for all the other squires and even some fully-fledged knights and legionaries. But to Aerion, he would always be his adorable and sometimes annoying little brother.
“Not this time Aegor. I’m not sure if Father was including the rest of you when he told Valaena and I we could go into the city. Best not risk it, you know what it’s like when they are wroth with us.”
Aegor looked disappointed but nodded reluctantly. “It’s alright Aegor,” Rhaena assured him. “Aerion and Valaena just want to sneak off into the city together so they can kiss up a storm and court,” she said teasingly.
Aerion’s cheeks burned and he noticed that Valaena had flushed completely red. Their younger siblings all started laughing at them. Aerion was about to retort when Valaena beat him to it. “Like you are any different Rhaena. I know you’re just itching to console Aegor now, aren’t you?”
It was Aegor and Rhaena’s turn to flush now and Aenar and Daena continued laughing at them before Valaena focused her glare on them as well and they hurriedly cowered before their eldest sister poked at them as well.
With the nuisances they called siblings dealt with and packed off to entertain themselves, Aerion and Valaena found one of the Dragonguard captains, their parents’ cousin, Ser Corlys Velaryon, and informed him that they intended to venture into the city.
“Very well my prince and princess. Your escort will be waiting for you outside of the Royal University with horses, though do give them some time to get there. I assume that you both will be taking your dragons there?” he asked.
They nodded before sending him off to see to his task.
“Our cousin is a good and loyal man,” Valaena observed.
“He is indeed,” Aerion agreed. He knew their parents were eyeing Corlys for a Ward just as they had given to his father and older brothers. He approved of the decision of course; it was just unfortunate that it would deprive them of a very capable and loyal Dragonguard.
They climbed the stairs up to the roof after that. It was only a few levels, but his legs were still burning when they finally reached the top. He wondered how the servants and guards endured climbing all sixty-five. Luckily for him and his family however, they had a much quicker way to get around the castle.
As they opened the doors to the roof, he saw his youngest siblings, Aemon and Elaena, hard at work training their dragons, Telarion and Dreamfyre under the noonday sun. It was a relatively cooling spring day, but at the height of summer this would be unthinkable to do. Still there was no place better for them to do it right now.
Hand in hand, Valaena and he walked over to where their siblings were shouting simple commands to their dragons under the instructions of the Dragonkeepers. The two young dragons were far smaller than Caraxes and Meleys were, let alone their parents’ dragons, but they had a formidable enough size already, with wingspans greater than twenty feet, large enough that it still amazed him sometimes to think that his baby siblings could command them.
As they noticed them drawing nearer, the Dragonkeepers bowed reverently as Aemon and Elaena ran to hug them and Valaena and he held them tenderly in their arms before listening to their passionate stories about their morning and their complaints that they couldn’t join them and the others in magic lessons.
“It’s alright, you’ll have your chance one day,” he told them but they still complained.
He supposed he could understand the feeling of missing out on things your siblings did, though far more often than not he and Valaena were guilty of making their younger siblings feel that instead of feeling it themselves. Perks of being the eldest.
“Aunt Visenya gave the rest of them the day off after the lesson. You can go join them if you want. It’s getting hot up here,” Valaena told them, her eyes shifting over briefly to the Dragonkeepers so they understood that for the command it was.
They shook their heads however. “We’d like to finish our lesson,” Aemon said and that was that.
With their younger siblings returning to their dragon lessons, Aerion and Valaena walked around the edge of the roof where the raised battlements prevented anyone from walking off the roof but also allowed a stunning view of the surroundings.
Dragonsreach stood six hundred and fifty feet above the plain and the view matched. In the south all they could see was the water of the Dragons Eye for miles and miles though in the far-off distance the Isle of Queens was visible on a clear day as a tiny speck on the horizon. To the north, the west, and east, the land stretched out into rolling low hills, pockets of woods, and lush fields full of grain besides hamlets and villages as far as the eye could see.
Closer to home, they could espy their destination, the Royal City of Summerhall by formal charter though known more commonly as Summerton. It wasn’t much of a city at the moment though; most of it was just a sprawl of empty fields, almost absurdly wide roads, and piles of construction materials and ditches meant for foundations and sewers.
Right below the tower, the castle of Summerhall stretched over three thousand feet from end to end. Much work was ongoing renovating and redesigning the castle as his parents and aunt envisioned. The bear pit had been remodeled and expanded into a full menagerie for his family to keep curious and fascinating animals to entertain the court while a large glass garden had been built to grow certain exotic fruits. Much of the castle’s open space was in the process of being converted into botanical gardens and parks, and the lakeside of the castle was being redone as well, with parts of the beach being dug out and an outer walled harbor under construction to complete the circle of Summerhall and flush the castle right up against the lake.
Work had begun on the Dragonpit in the Dragonwood though he imagined it would be many years yet before the enormous structure was complete. Even from this height and distance, he could see his family’s dragons in the woods. The greatest of the three could never be missed, Balerion the Black Dread, Meraxes the Silver Queen, and Vhagar the Bronze Fury. Their bodies were enormous and yet still dwarfed by the sheer size of the twenty-acre Dragonwood. Aemon’s Telarion and Elaena’s Dreamfyre were already on the roof while Aegor’s Arrax, Rhaena’s Quicksilver, Aenar’s Vermithor, and Daena’s Silverwing were a little harder to spot from this distance. He could never miss the vivid red of his own Caraxes or his beloved’s Meleys however.
At the call they sent through the bonds, both red dragons stirred and took to the skies and they watched as the Blood Wyrm and the Red Queen soared up towards Dragonsreach. They roared in greeting as they arrived and the much smaller Telarion and Dreamfyre roared back in acknowledgement submissively, steering well clear of where Caraxes and Meleys landed on the roof.
Aerion and Valaena finally let go of each other’s hands as they rushed to their respective dragons, fussing over their scales and admiring their beauty as they always did, petting them gently and strengthening their bond as the Dragonkeepers strapped on the saddles.
When the Dragonkeepers finished, the two of them climbed up to the saddles and mounted their dragons. “Soves!” they both shouted and Caraxes and Meleys obliged, crawling over to the edge of the tower before leaping off into flight with spread wings.
Flying would never cease to be amazing to Aerion. Atop Caraxes he felt so free and powerful, like he could see everything, do anything, and nothing and nobody would ever be able to stop him. If the view from the top of Dragonsreach was impressive, the view from atop Caraxes was even more so. All the land stretched out before him as far as the eye could see though he restrained the instinct to go as far as he could, directing Caraxes to descend and circle over Summerton.
From dragonback, more of the land revealed itself to his eye. A thirty-foot-wide moat was being dug out around the outer wall of Summerhall that would connect to the lake to fully encircle the castle while two hundred feet past the moat was to be left as bare grass and none of the buildings of the city were to encroach into that space to leave a clear line of sight for the defenders of the castle.
Past that zone, most of the construction was focused to the west of Summerhall Castle where the old town of Harrenton had once stood before being subsumed into Summerton, though there was also some construction to the north and east of the castle. Directly due north of the main gate, the road ran right up to and split to encircle a moderately sized palace under construction just outside the two hundred foot clearing that opened up into a grand square.
Well, Aerion called the palace moderately sized but it would likely be truly massive in its own right if it did not stand so near to the castle of Summerhall that dwarfed anything in sight. When they were complete, the palace and square would serve as a town hall for the administration of the city itself, addressing the people of the city, and holding fine parades. There were grand plans for triumphant arches and impressive statues to be built within, in front of, along the sides of, and even behind the palace and square on the road between it and the castle. If it was completed in time, perhaps it might even host his and Valaena’s wedding he thought, willing himself not to blush at the idea.
Other similar projects were envisioned for the rest of the city, in varying stages of planning and construction, some of which would likely not be completed for decades to come. A colosseum to entertain the masses, fountains to water the poor and wow the rich, monuments to honor their brave soldiers, grand septs and temples for all religions that submitted to his family’s Exceptionalism, and ports, markets, banks, artisanries, industries, homes, and so much more. His father had spared no expense hiring the finest architects and artisans from across both Westeros and Essos to plan and design his dream.
In his mind’s eye, Aerion could almost imagine it the way his father had described it to him, the way it would one day be, a proud and majestic Imperial City of a continent-spanning empire, rich and powerful beyond the measure of any city since Old Valyria itself. He was eager to take a closer look at the progress they were making.
One of the very first projects his parents and aunt had ordered completed in the city had been the Royal University intended to replace the school they had founded on Dragonstone before their conquest of the Riverlands. Here the Alchemists’ Guild, various scholars and wise men from Westeros and Essos, and halfmaesters and maesters of the Riverlands and Westerlands that had joined his family’s side learned and studied together, working to bring to fruition the progress that his house desired.
Though under the Royal University, the oaths and chains the maesters took were no longer relevant. Instead Maester had become more akin to a term for wise man or healer and referred to esteemed lecturers and experts in their discipline, with the term Archmaester used for the foremost leaders in a particular discipline, with Grand Maester referring to the academic head of the entire university, Seneschal as the financial and administrative leader, and the Conclave as the general leading council. A similar structure in some ways to the Citadel of Oldtown but a key difference was that the number of maesters and thus learned scholars was no longer limited by oaths of celibacy, nor were they mandated to study far too many disciplines and fields so they could serve lords and castles and could now more easily specialize and theorize.
In the future, the University and the schools it would support under its aegis would help train and educate the people of the Imperial City and beyond into bureaucrats, scholars, artisans, and innovators, to support the imperial examinations and civil service his father envisioned. In the meantime, the university had already proven its worth advancing some fields and pioneering useful innovations.
Aerion would know. Some of it was in his lessons, relevant as it was to the health of his family and the cleanliness and order their city would eventually be held to. Things like sanitation and soaps, advanced sewers, copper pipes, and flushing toilets, and other such plumbing. The university had even redesigned telescopes meant for looking at celestial objects to look at tiny objects so small they were invisible to the naked eye and used it to conclude that diseases were caused by tiny ‘germs’.
Wine had already been boiled to sterilize wounds as a common practice but now that idea was taken further than ever before, with wounds and materials cleaned thoroughly with soaps and milk and water boiled. These concepts and practices along with a new tool called the ‘forceps’ had also greatly reduced the chances of birthing mothers dying due to the complications or childbed fever and that had particularly pleased his parents and aunt from what he remembered. He couldn’t disagree. Just the thought of losing Valaena like that… it was almost too painful to even imagine.
The University’s completion had been essential for all of these innovations and advancements to be conceived of and developed and it also made it a useful landmark and rendezvous point. As Valaena and he descended towards the university, he was pleased to see the recognizable gold cloaks of the Dragonguard in the main courtyard. Ser Corlys and his men had proved their competence once again.
The horses shied away from their dragons in fear as they landed but the Dragonguard kept them under enough control to keep them from panicking. Few horses could have lived so long in a castle where dragons flew above without gaining some amount of courage after all.
As Aerion and Valaena dismounted from their dragons, the Dragonguard all bowed and kept their heads bowed as they approached.
“Rise,” Aerion told them.
“Impeccable timing as always my prince, my princess,” Ser Corlys told them as he raised his head. “We were not waiting long at all.”
“On the contrary I hope we didn’t rush you ser,” Valaena jested.
Corlys smiled. “Only a Dragonguard’s duty Princess. The horses are waiting for you.”
As his preferred mount by far was Caraxes, Aerion did not keep a particular horse as his own but he did have his favorites among the horses kept in Summerhall’s stables and was pleased to see the young black stallion being led by the guards was one of them. Valaena for her part took her white courser mare’s reins eagerly.
“Where to my prince, my princess?” the Dragonguard asked.
Aerion turned to Valaena. “What do you want to see today?”
She shrugged. “Nothing particularly comes to mind. We can just ride in a straight line down that way until something catches our eye,” she said, pointing straight ahead due west.
“You heard the Princess,” he told the Dragonguard and they nodded.
“Mount up men!” Ser Corlys ordered and the Dragonguard platoon were quick to follow, mounting their horses fast enough to impress even the finest knights.
Aerion helped Valaena climb up onto her own horse before mounting his own and then they were off. The Dragonguard made sure to form a protective shield around them as they rode, meanwhile the Targaryen banner they carried in their company, the distinct flowing gold cloaks on their backs, and the silver-haired and graceful young teens they protected made it immediately clear who they were to the people they passed.
“Princess Valaena!” some of the townspeople and builders cheered as they approached and Aerion did his best not to shake his head in amusement.
While his name was occasionally shouted, Valaena was much more popular with the smallfolk than he was. Maybe it was some natural charm and beauty that she had inherited from her mother Rhaenys while he took after his own militaristic mother Visenya. He couldn’t really complain though, he was the first to fall under her spell long before any of these people ever did.
That didn’t mean that he lacked friends of course. He counted many brave and loyal soldiers and servants of his parents among his trusted associates and he had many companions chosen from the sons of his family’s loyalists, the Baratheons, Velaryons, Celtigars, and more. But Valaena had always had a certain charisma about her, something that allowed her to make friends easily and win the hearts of near anyone she spoke to with ease.
Unlike Aerion who commanded with all the imperiousness of a prince, Valaena would request with the charm of a lady, and men and women alike would often trip over themselves to heed her wishes, Aerion included.
As they rode, Aerion looked around, imagining a future come to life before his eyes when these empty fields and piles of bricks were proud stone buildings home to families, artisanries, markets, and all else that one might see in a city. When the people he saw were not builders but merchants, nobles, and laborers, citizens of a united empire.
Once they had explored enough of the burgeoning city for the day, they returned to the university courtyard and called their dragons back. The Dragonguard faithfully stood watch and saw them off, only moving to return to the castle themselves once they had taken off into the sky beyond arrow range.
When they finally returned to Summerhall, the sun had descended a third of the way down the sky from noon. They grabbed a quick lunch before going in search of their family. Their inquiries told them that their parents were still in their meeting in the Tower of Summer but their six younger siblings had apparently collectively commandeered one of the living rooms in the family apartments.
As they approached the room, they could hear excited shouts and jeering taunts. The Dragonguard standing at the door had amused smiles on their faces as they watched them approach and the door swung open to reveal a scene of childish delight.
The cushions and pillows had all been ripped off from the beds and couches and two forts had been created on opposing sides of the room, each manned by three of their younger siblings. The apparent team division in this makeshift game seemed to be full siblings against half-siblings. Aegor appeared to be leading Daena and Aemon in one fort against Rhaena, Aenar, and Elaena in the other, the two teams locked in a deadly clash, bashing pillows against each other and sending feathers flying in a way that Aerion was sure would make even grown knights shudder in fear at the scale of the brutality on full display.
Aegor’s pet white raven, Feathers, and Rhaena’s black cat, Ebony, had been conscripted to serve some purpose or another as well. Both animals were perched on a chair towards the far side of the ‘arena’. Perhaps as imaginary judges? Aerion wondered briefly if any of his siblings’ other pets might also find themselves involved this game, voluntarily or not.
Suddenly the game came to a halt as their siblings noticed his and Valaena’s presence. Immediately they rushed to their sides, never once dropping their trusted weapons, the almighty pillows.
“Aerion! Valaena! You’re here!” their youngest siblings all seemed to chorus at once.
“Did you enjoy your courting in the city?” Daena teased slyly and Aerion was proud to say he did not blush even a little. Not one bit. Definitely not.
Before he could grace Daena’s annoying question with any kind of retaliation, Aegor butted in, seemingly no longer upset.
“Ahh forget about all of that. You both can join my team to make up for not taking me with you!” Aegor shouted eagerly and Rhaena glared at him.
“No, I think they’ll be joining my team,” she retorted, sticking her tongue out.
“Now now, there’s no point arguing just yet. Neither Valaena nor I said we’ll be joining you,” Aerion began but was soon cut off as their siblings all began to plead all at once. He couldn’t even tell some of their voices apart.
“Please!”
“It’s not the same without you!”
Ever the peacekeeper, Valaena raised her hands to quiet them. “I think we can spare them one game, can’t we Aerion?” she said, turning to him with that smile, that damnable smile that always made him give in to whatever he wanted.
He groaned in frustration but agreed ultimately, more eagerly than he was willing to admit. “That still leaves the matter of deciding the teams though.”
In an instant, Aegor, Daena, and Aemon clamped onto his arms while Rhaena, Aenar, and Elaena did the same for Valaena. She laughed. “Well then, it looks like silver and bronze will be clashing,” she said with a mirthful glint in her eye.
Feeling mischievous, Aerion started the war anew by grabbing the pillow from Daena’s hand and throwing it right at Valaena. Not enough to truly hurt of course, but it did wind her a little and mess up her hair. When the pillow fell to the floor, he felt a rush in his blood and a chill down his spine at the sickeningly sweet smile Valaena threw at him.
“Challenge accepted,” was all she said.
Immediately making a tactical withdrawal back to his team’s fort, Aerion asserted command over his team and Aegor yielded it gladly. He then discovered what the exact rules of the game were and proceeded to lead his siblings to glorious victory against their foes (there was no ultimate conclusion, they just started bashing at each other).
After that, one game turned into two, two into three, and so on it went. They played boys against girls, eldest against youngest, and then they mixed and matched and randomly assigned teams as they pleased to vary things up.
For a few precious hours, they were not dutiful and responsible heirs learning all they could, but carefree playful children. When their parents finally returned from their meeting, it was to find all eight of their children exhausted on the floor in a pile of pillows and feathers, sweating and aching from a long, long afternoon of fun and games.
If only days like this could last forever, Aerion could not help but think as Valaena snuggled into his side, fast asleep and tired, while their parents shook their heads in amusement. His eyes closed and he let sleep claim him.
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The Targaryens and their Dragons in 107 AD (6 AC)
- Visenya Targaryen, born 73 AD (29 BC), 34 years old, rider of the she-dragon Vhagar which hatched on Dragonstone in 50 AD (52 BC). Known as the Bronze Fury, Vhagar has bronze scales with greenish-blue highlights and flames and bright green eyes.
- Aegon Targaryen, born 75 AD (27 BC), 32 years old, already known as the Conqueror though the epithet has not yet gained its full prestige, rider of the dragon Balerion which hatched in Old Valyria in 13 BD (115 BC). Balerion is known as the Black Dread for his black scales and wings and for his black flames with red swirls.
- Rhaenys Targaryen, born 76 AD (26 BC), 31 years old, rider of the she-dragon Meraxes, which hatched on Dragonstone in 14 AD (88 BC). Meraxes is known as the Silver Queen for her striking silver scales and imperious golden eyes and accents that further emphasize her regal nature. Her flames are silver-gold.
Aegon Targaryen married both his elder sister Visenya and his younger sister Rhaenys in the same wedding ceremony in 93 AD (9 BC). He has four children with each of them, three sons and one daughter with Visenya, and three daughters and one son with Rhaenys. The eldest two children, Aerion and Valaena, are false twins because they were born from different mothers on the same day and are half siblings through their father and first cousins through their mothers. Their closeness, same nameday, and obsession with their favorite color red has given the pair the moniker of the ‘Red Twins’.
Aegon and Visenya’s children:
- Aerion Targaryen, one of the Red Twins, born 94 AD (8 BC), 13 years old, rider of the dragon Caraxes which hatched in his cradle on Dragonstone in 94 AD (8 BC). Caraxes is known as the Blood Wyrm for his lean slender build and his blood red scales and wings. His flames are a dark crimson, the color of dried blood.
- Aegor Targaryen, born 96 AD (6 BC), 11 years old, bonded to the dragon Arrax which hatched in his cradle on Dragonstone in 96 AD (6 BC). Arrax, known as the Black Scourge, has scales as black as coal and menacing green eyes and flames that are the color of wildfire. (Aegon Targaryen believes Arrax is the same dragon that would have become the Cannibal in another world).
- Daena Targaryen, born 99 AD (3 BC), 8 years old, bonded to the she-dragon Silverwing which hatched in her cradle in Summerhall in 100 AD (2 BC). Silverwing is known as the Splendid for her beautiful silvery scales and blue fire.
- Aemon Targaryen, born 102 AD (1 AC), 5 years old, bonded to the dragon Telarion which hatched in his cradle in Summerhall in 102 AD (1 AC). Known as the Terror, Telarion’s scales are a rich mahogany brown and his flames are gold with swirls of red. (Aegon Targaryen believes Telarion is the same dragon that would have become Sheepstealer in another world.)
Aegon and Rhaenys’ children:
- Valaena Targaryen, the other of the Red Twins, known as the Ruby Princess, born 94 AD (8 BC), 13 years old, rider of the she-dragon Meleys which hatched in her cradle on Dragonstone in 94 AD (8 BC). Meleys is known as the Red Queen for her regal bearing and queenly personality and she has scarlet scales, pink wing membranes, and a bright copper crest, horns, and claws. Her flames are copper swirled with scarlet.
- Rhaena Targaryen, born 98 AD (4 BC), 9 years old, bonded to the she-dragon Quicksilver which hatched in her cradle in Summerhall in 98 AD (4 BC). Quicksilver has silvery-white scales and pale white wing membranes. She is known as the White Flame for her pale white fireballs and coloring.
- Aenar Targaryen, born 100 AD (2 BC), 7 years old, bonded to the dragon Vermithor which hatched in his cradle in Summerhall in 100 AD (2 BC). Known as the Bronze Prince, Vermithor has bronze scales, large tan wings, and golden-red flames.
- Elaena Targaryen, born 103 AD (2 AC), 4 years old, bonded to the dragon Dreamfyre which hatched in her cradle in Summerhall in 103 AD (2 AC). Known as the Blue Queen, Dreamfyre has pale blue scales, wings, and flames, with silver crests and markings.
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Author’s Note: Back at long, long last! Thank you all so much for staying so patient with me this past month! I hope you all really enjoyed this chapter and this first real look at the magic in D&C! If you read High Tide, rereading Chapter 61 should contextualize the magic more as well. Hope you all liked seeing the Targaryen children with all their personalities and dynamics with each other and their parents! Do check out the family tree enclosed below and check out this link to see my inspiration for Valaena’s necklace design! https://en.m.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Amulet_of_Kings
Please let me know your thoughts, suggestions, and any questions in the comments below or over on Discord! https://discord.com/invite/NSEwuzpcWm
Comments
Tertius711
Ehh. We shall see how that goes. I doubt alliance would be the correct term though. It's far from equal
Mattetpunk101
Hmm is the north and Aegon's empire will have an alliance because I know aegon and Torhen stark might have an agreement
Tertius711
Thanks for informing me. I can't find it though. I guess that's a good thing.
Beastmode2003
Someone on webnovel just copied and pasted chapter 14 on there under john_jo just so you know
Tertius711
Glad to have you here on the Patreon! Wdyt of all the chapters you binged? Would love to see what you think of them. Glad you're liking the worldbuilding in this chapter. Definitely stay tuned to see what's to come and where the children go!
Trey Tenor
I just joined the patreon today so that I could binge through the extra chapters I was behind on FF.net and now I have to wait for more chapters to be written. Can’t wait to see what’s to come though! I’m really liking the world building and I can’t wait to explore what each child is interested in to kind of see the potential legacy they may have in the future of the empire.
Tertius711
Thanks! Glad you liked the look at the next generation! Greek Fire kinda already exists in ASOIAF as wildfire. Gunpowder is unlikely to be made by Aegon though. As for Maegon's vault... well, let's just say there's a certain narrative trope called Chekov's Gun and this chapter would mark the third time that vault has been mentioned already in the story after Chapter 1 and 7...
BEMA45
Great work!! And it was great to see more of the next generation! I was wondering if Aegon would use his knowledge to replicate some historic weapons of our world, like greek fire used by the Byzantine in their ships, or maybe even gunpowder. To make his armies more powerfull without the dependence of a dragon presence? And also is real the posibilty of them finding Maegon s vault?
Tertius711
Nice. Glad you like it. More details for the Imperial City will come in time! Probably about the Vale invasion and with the Elder Council.
Zenokya
Good worldbuilding, imperial capital in the center of Westeros. Wonder what the meeting is about with who ?
