"You will be staying in the Red Keep from now on. When I return to Dragonstone, you shall accompany me."
"Is that wise? Many will speak, my prince. After all, my father just requested that my sister marry your brother in front of the entire court. Once I'm seen in court with you, the lords will begin talking. What will they say, I wonder."
Rhaegal glanced at Malora with some amount of annoyance, as if she weren't the cause for all of that.
After the older girl had continued to ramble inside the cheap whorehouse some more, Rhaegal had been able to cut her off just long enough to end the meeting and take her with him. He could no longer stomach the stench coming from the place and felt that staying any longer would risk the smell sticking to him. The Hightowers and Targaryens had then gone their own way, with one exception of course.
Malora.
She joined Rhaegal inside the Red Keep, something which Leyton had no trouble agreeing to. Despite his words, the man might even be thinking that Rhaegal was seriously considering a betrothal between their houses. After all, Malora had proved just how useful she could be. And dangerous.
He was more likely to burn her than he was to marry her to his brother.
Now, the two of them were inside one of the private chambers in Maegor's Holdfast. This was to be her residence for the duration of the celebrations.
Rhaegal had sent Rhaegar ahead to inform their father of their talk with Leyton Hightower, with some noticeable omissions. Something Rhaegal wasn't sure of sharing yet with his parents was the extent of his magical knowledge. Not when he had more questions than answers.
Ser Barristan was posted outside of the room to ensure their privacy. Melisandre on the other hand had left for her pyre in the underground passages, saying that she no longer wished to be in Malora's presence. Needless to say, the girl's earlier comment about the Lord of Light's lack of insight into the future had left the red priestess annoyed, which was putting it mildly.
"You will also turn over your glass candle to me." Rhaegal ignored the girl's joke as he stood by the window of the room. From here, he had a good view of the Blackwater. Despite how unclean the water had become over the centuries, from a distance it was still beautiful. "It will be relocated to Dragonstone for safekeeping."
"Oh my. Is this why you took me away from my father? To steal everything from me? That's not very princely of you."
Her faux concern could not fool anyone, especially as she made herself comfortable on the bed. She probably learned how to lie from her father.
"The candles are legacies of Valyria." He decided to humor her for a bit.
"Too true." She smiled. "Do you not find it strange then that there are none on Dragonstone?"
Rhaegal glanced at her again. "I'm sure you have an answer for that."
"Not as much as you might think," she replied, her smile still in place. "Everything I've told you is stuff that you'd discover on your own, I'm sure. There are bigger mysteries out there. Ones that I haven't been able to crack."
"If you think you can talk me into giving up that glass candle-"
"Oh no." Malora quickly shook her head. "You can have it, if you like. Although I would think that you'd prefer your own. My glass candle has become attuned to me. I'm not sure how much use you'd get out of it at this point, not when your magical knowledge is so poor."
Rhaegal cocked his head. "You know, if you're trying to get into my good graces, then you're doing an awful job at it."
"You insult me, my prince!" Malora covered her mouth in mock outrage. "The moment that I told you that we were trying to hatch the egg is the moment that I knew you would never like me."
"Then why tell me of it?"
"As I said, you'd have figured it out sooner or later. It's better to reveal my hand to you now when you're more controlled. I would not risk your anger. I don't fancy being burned alive, you see. Besides, there is more than one glass candle on Westeros, and despite your lack of formal training when it comes to magic you seem to grow by instinct." She pouted. "It's not fair. I've had to train since I was three and suffered many setbacks, you know. Even now I'm not very good at using the glass candle. But you….you only continue to grow. You managed to revive the eggs too despite all my years of efforts."
So she didn't know about his other meeting with that unknown female voice. That was good to know. She did say that she had only "taken a peek."
Rhaegal ignored the rest. "I know the Citadel have some. I just did not think anyone was using them."
An oversight on his part.
Malora waved her hand. "You don't have to worry about that. Apart from some silly test, those silly men do not know how to use them. And they're brand new too. I'm sure they would quickly adapt to your flames. That's where you excel at, right? The dragons seem to speak to you in some way, so I'm confident the glass candles will do the same. I can't wait to see what you find out when you use them! Some new purpose might be revealed, one that I cannot yet see. Ah, but you can still have mine. My father said it was better to wait and see what you would do first, so my glass candle is back at the Hightower. I told him that you were more reasonable than the rest of your family, but he didn't want to risk it. Such a worrywart I tell you."
This girl. Did she ever stop?
Rhaegal sighed as he turned back to the window.
"Regardless, you will not be leaving my side for the foreseeable future."
"Of course!"
Rhaegal felt his eyebrow raise when he found Malora suddenly standing beside him, hugging his arm tightly.
She was faster than she looked.
"This will give me more opportunities to change your opinion of me!"
"That will not happen."
His anger might not be pointed at her right now, but his feelings for her could best be described as "a necessary annoyance."
Malora pouted again. "That's not very fair. Are you judging me because of my family's actions? That would be hypocritical of you. Your family isn't clean either, you know."
"The past has little bearing to me," Rhaegal retorted as he removed his arm from her unwelcome embrace. He could admit to himself that the older girl was attractive, but beyond that he had little interest in her in a romantic sense. "My ancestors made their fair share of mistakes, but that does not represent me. Same with you and your family. You are not them."
Her face brightened. "Then-!"
"However," he cut her off. "I still don't trust you. Your father might have tried to talk around it, but this is about self-preservation. You said it yourself. I would have discovered this eventually, and you knew that once I did I would come for you. So you convinced your father that it would be better to kneel to avoid my ire. It's smart. But that's fundamentally what your family has been doing for generations. You're survivors. I won't begrudge you for it, but that doesn't mean that I can trust you."
Malora didn't have a chance to respond as Rhaegal leaned in closer to stare into her eyes. The same eyes that had been lifeless before were vibrant and full of life now.
"Tell me. If I wasn't here, what would you have done? With all of your abilities, what would you have done for my family?"
The answer was clear. Leyton had already spelled it out when he was giving his "vow." They would have kept looking out for themselves, working on their magic and trying to see if they could hatch the dragon egg without a care for the Targaryens.
Self-preservation. It was understandable really. It was pragmatic.
It just did not inspire trust.
Rather than looking sad, Malora seemed delighted by his words.
"You connect things fast. But yes. I will not lie. Your family is no longer what it once was. I'm sure you've known that for a long time. You're at your weakest, and because of that the realm does not know how to react when they see your resurgence. When they see you. But the rest of your family? They were heading for their own destruction. Where would that have left us? Would you have us follow them to doom? When so much is at stake?"
Rhaegal did not answer her. Not directly. Instead, he backed away from her.
"For someone so possessed with her dreams, you sounded coherent for once."
"You give me focus," she said without any shame, her face bright. Almost radiant. "It's bizarre to me. The longer I'm around you, the calmer I feel. It's almost like your flames are full of vitality, and some of it is passing over to me. Strengthening me and my mind. I'm probably more susceptible to it because of my magic. It soothes the soul."
Rhaegal's eyes narrowed at her words.
"So let's keep talking!" Malora quickly latched on to his arm again, or she tried to. But Rhaegal moved out of the way. Not that it seemed to deter her any. "I posed that riddle to you earlier: what do you think happened to the glass candles on Dragonstone? I personally think it had something to do with Visenya Targaryen and her son, Maegor The Cruel. They either hid them away or were destroyed during their reign of destruction, but I've never been able to get a clear read on her. She used blood magic of some kind, but to what extent? And what happened to all of that knowledge? Did it die with her? What do you think? Once I'm on Dragonstone, I think I'll go exploring! Your family might have some treasures hidden away just waiting to be discovered again! If I find something, then I think that I deserve a reward!"
She was rambling again.
Rhaegal could not help but sigh.
This was going to be taxing on his mind, wasn't it?
And here he was looking forward to taking it easy, but now he had Malora to deal with. There was also the matter of the dragon egg. Unlike the others, this egg did not seem to be overbearing with its presence, as Rhaegal had not felt the burning sensation once after touching it. Another mystery he supposed.
At this point, what else was new?
But he knew Daeron. Rhaegal was sure that his little brother would come begging for him to hatch it, sooner rather than later, so that he could have his own dragon. And who was he to deny his precious little brother?
At least he would have an excuse to stay in bed for a day before he met the rest of his competition, if they hadn't arrived already.
Malora's pout caught his attention. "Ignoring me, is it? That's a first. And not very fun."
"I have many things to consider."
"Yes, yes. Like the egg." Malora waved off his words. "I suppose I'm old news to you now, but let me cast away any doubts you might have. I will sincerely work with you in ensuring that Westeros sees a better future. That's why you're keeping me alive, isn't it? And because you don't fully trust your red priestess."
At the mention of Melisandre, Rhaegal went silent.
Malora shot him a curious look. "How much do you know of her god? She did not seem to appreciate my insight, despite it being obvious."
Rhaegal kept his silence. He thought back to the one thing he had learned on the matter, that her god was "a rock." Or so the distorted voice claimed, and given the circumstances Rhaegal saw no reason for the ancient Valyrian to have lied.
But what did that mean exactly? Just what was R'hllor?
'What are gods?'
Malora would never get an answer from him.
---
Aerys had many questions.
Even after Rhaegar's explanation, he was not satisfied. He wanted to know why his son would be interested in having Malora Hightower join him at court if he had no intention of marrying her. When Rhaegar seemed hesitant to give him a clear answer, Aerys summoned Rhaegal.
He wanted to know the true reason for all of this farce.
Inside the solar, Shaena and Daeron were still enthralled by the dragon egg. Aerys could not blame his children for their fascination. It was the first time that they were seeing a dragon egg with their own eyes. He too had been similarly enthralled when he had first gazed upon a dragon egg. This was when he was still a mere prince, and his grandfather was king. When he had gathered seven dragon eggs for their trip to Summerhall for that fateful day. Back then, Aerys had wished that one of them would hatch, so that he could become a dragon rider like his ancestors.
That felt like a lifetime ago.
Now Aerys was king, and he was dealing with his own problems.
It did not take Rhaegal long to return to the solar after being summoned. After being questioned, his heir and legacy explained to him the main reason for wanting to keep Malora Hightower close: glass candles.
Apparently the Hightowers had one, and they had been using it for years.
Another part of their legacy, at the hands of Andals. Another slight.
Aerys was incensed.
"How dare they. Who do they think they are!?"
Rather than working alongside them, Aerys had half a mind to throw Leyton Hightower and his family in the dungeons where they could rot for all of eternity for all their disrespect on this day.
"She knows how to use them, father," Rhaegal proceeded to say. "There are more at the Citadel, which I will retrieve when I head south. But she can be another pair of eyes that can serve our house."
For the danger she posed, it was too weak of an argument. Aerys could sense that his son had different motivations, but what could those be? Aerys considered ordering Rhaegal to tell him but then thought better of it. His son had never led him astray so far. Rather, he had only brought immense power and prestige to their house. The dragons were once again going to be feared across the world. For that, and because of his love, Aerys was willing to let the matter drop and stomach the idea of letting the Hightower girl join his son at court.
Aerys already knew that there would be whispers about this. The lords would not know what to make of it, especially when no betrothal would be announced between the Targaryens and Hightowers.
'Let them scamper,' he sneered inside his mind.
Aerys was not in a mood to consider the concerns of the petty lords. Not after a day like this, where he was forced to deal with a scheming man like Leyton Hightower.
Aerys decided to make the new arrangement known tomorrow, before his small council. Along with all the other changes that would be coming to the realm. In the meantime, he participated in something far more interesting.
The birth of a new dragon.
Daeron looked delighted when Rhaegal announced that he would hatch the egg. Despite his young age, his youngest was bright, just like his older brothers. He knew what this meant.
"Really, brother!?" Daeron was instantly hopping in place. It was the first time Aerys was seeing him happy in days, and it softened his heart. He had hated to see his son so gloomy but could not offer any words of comfort. For what could he say that was worth a dragon?
Rhaegal nodded as he patted Daeron's head.
"Of course, little brother. Better to do it now before the celebrations begin. Then it'll join the others on Dragonstone. I'll be out for a day, and that won't do me any well when I'm trying to compete."
Daeron was too busy celebrating to understand the rest of what his brother had said.
"Rhaegal, will you really be okay?" Rhaella was of course concerned. Aerys found that his sister-wife was often much too soft on their children. They were all dragons, so they needed a firmer hand. Not that he did not understand her worries. They were all that were left of the mighty Targaryen dynasty. They could not afford more losses.
Rhaegal smiled at his mother. "Do not worry, mother. I've already done this before. And it's only one egg this time. It'll be much easier I'm sure."
Shaena expressed her own excitement at seeing such an important moment for herself. Like her brother, she had missed the birth of the dragons and was curious to know more.
Aerys could barely contain himself too.
Things happened quickly after that. Aerys briefly considered allowing the lords to see such a marvel for themselves but thought better of it. This was a moment among family, not for the realm. Besides, he had already dismissed the court earlier today. It would take too much time to gather all the lords and knights again.
And Aerys was rarely a patient man.
Rhaegal summoned the red priestess, who did not hesitate to join them.
From there, they all headed to the infamous Maidenvault, which stood behind the royal sept. Here, they would have the most privacy, especially after Aerys ordered Ser Gerold and the other Kingsguard to lock down the entire area.
Inside, the ritual was quick but powerful.
Aerys' eyes fixated on the flames that his son conjured. They were much more powerful than ever, which delighted him. It appeared as if his son's abilities just continued to grow more and more as he aged. It might frighten the lesser lords, but to Aerys it was just proof of their superiority over Westeros.
The thought of the Red Keep catching fire never even crossed his mind. The flames seemed to be kept in place by an invisible force. Perhaps a barrier of some kind? No doubt the work of the red priestess and her symbols.
The more he saw of her the more gleeful he became. Hers was a religion that understood the power of fire. The power of the dragons. Such a religion deserved its official recognition in the realm, did it not?
'Yes, yes.'
Aerys could see it now. The High Septon might splutter and complain, but already the Seven Kingdoms were home to other faiths. The addition of another was of little concern now.
Those thoughts were shelved for another time as the flames began to die down. Despite the barrier between them and the rest of the world, the heat had still been almost unbearable, which spoke of their intensity. Aerys was sweating through his black and red doublet, and Targaryens were supposed to have some amount of heat resistance.
How fascinating!
Of course, that paled in comparison to the sounds of small chirps coming from the middle of the room, where a kneeling Rhaegal held a small dragon in his hands. Melisandre was at his side, and other than parts of his doublet being burned off his son was just fine.
The new hatchling caught the attention of everyone in the room, but none more so than Daeron who was instantly running to where Rhaegal was despite Rhaella's warnings.
Aerys took in every aspect of the newly born dragon. It was of a pale green color. Its horns and wings had a very soft white shading, and its eyes were of the same pale green color. It was different than Ancalagon's darker green complexion which was more eerie and striking. In comparison, this dragon seemed almost delicate.
It was still a powerful beast of fire, and Aerys admired it as such.
Shaena soon joined Daeron and ran for her older brother while Rhaegar was more calm with his movements.
Rhaella came to join Aerys and stood by his side as their children all gathered around the new dragon.
"It's quite a sight, isn't it?" she said softly.
Her voice was full of warmth. She always became like this when she saw all of their children gathered together. After Daeron's birth, they had agreed to hold off on having more so quickly, as per maester Qyburn's suggestion. The lingering effects of Rhaella's first birth with the twins were still there. The last thing Aerys wanted was to endanger her life.
Perhaps they could start trying for more now.
Westeros needed the Targaryens, and there were still too few of them.
Without thinking, Aerys grabbed Rhaella's hand with his own, which she accepted.
And so, this was how the new dragon Bael came into existence, and her rider would be none other than Prince Daeron Targaryen.
---
Eddard Stark, or "Ned" as his friends and family called him, took in the warm and pleasant air of the Riverlands with gusto as his party left behind the mountains of the Vale. He was a wolf, but he was a wolf who had come to find enjoyment in warmer climates.
He rode with patience as he followed Elbert Arryn on horseback. Jon Arryn rode inside the carriage in the middle of the pack. The man could still ride if he had to, but age was not his friend and it was more comfortable and safe for him to ride inside the carriage.
The opposite was true for his best friend, Robert Baratheon. The one and ten Baratheon was loud and full of laughter as he rode beside Ned while proudly wearing his house's colors.
"About damn time we left those mountains, eh, Ned?" he said with a wide grin.
Ned almost shook his head. Recently, his best friend had gotten into the habit of cursing. He said it was fun. Ned didn't really get it, but then again his friend was a wild spirit at heart.
"I'm sure you'll start missing the mountains when we reach King's Landing," Elbert said with a small grin of his own. "I've been to the city a couple of times myself, and it's nothing like the clean air you get while on a mountain."
"Less attacks from the hill tribes too," Robert japed with a loud laugh. "Not that that wasn't fun either!"
After they had traversed past the famous Gates of the Moon, their group had been ambushed by a hill tribe. It was the first time that Ned had ever seen real combat, and he was ashamed to admit that he had frozen up in the beginning. It was thanks to the older knights in their group, namely one Lord Yohn Royce, that Ned was able to survive the encounter without injury. The lord was tall, the tallest man that Ned had ever seen. And he had the muscles and strength to compliment his stature.
"That's not something to joke about," Elbert scolded, but Ned knew that Robert would not listen. Whether it was in the training yard or outside of it, his friend seemed to have an appetite for battle. And the talent for it too. Robert was only a year older than him, but he was already much taller and bigger.
Honestly, whether at Winterfell or at the Eyrie, there was always someone taller than Ned. It wasn't fair.
"Bah!" Robert rolled his eyes. "Don't take it too seriously. Besides, it was almost like an exercise! The real fun will be in the melee!"
Of course Robert had signed up. Ned had considered participating too, but he wasn't technically a squire. Not that he needed it, but tourneys and the like were more of a southern thing. Ned wasn't one to show off his skills unless he had to.
Not that it had ever stopped his older brother from his boasts and wanting to take part in tourneys himself when he came of age.
The thought of his older brother reminded Ned of the letters he carried with the rest of his belongings. Before leaving for King's Landing, he had received three letters from Winterfell. One came from his father, while the other two were from Brandon and Lyanna. Although he could tell that his sister had needed help writing hers. Probably from Brandon. The two of them were always inseparable, to the point that Ned remembered being jealous of their closeness at times.
Ned had expected the letters to just be more of the usual. Updates on their lives, as he did with his letters whenever he wrote to them.
Only now there was more to them than mere pleasantries.
Dragons.
The word had been stuck inside Ned's mind for some days now. If his brother and sister had been the only ones to tell him of dragons being alive again, then he would have never believed them. But when his father and Lord Arryn both corroborated his siblings' tales, then Ned realized that he was now living in a new world. One that contained dragons.
It was so unreal that he still did not know what to make of it. The tales of Prince Rhaegal Targaryen and his abilities were one thing. But now dragons too?
The world was indeed a big place.
"I don't have to remind you to conduct yourself better when we reach the capital, do I?" Elbert reminded Ned of Brandon at times, but the heir to the Eyrie could also be stern when the moment called for it. "You're not going to be in the Eyrie any longer and proper conduct is needed."
Jon Arryn tried to be strict, but Ned knew that he allowed Robert too much freedom at times.
Robert snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Your uncle already told me the same thing. Something about making a good impression on the Targaryens, right? Sounds stupid to me."
Ned glanced at his friend. "Have you ever met them?"
From what he could remember, Robert's father was a cousin to King Aerys, right?
"Once." Robert sounded bored now. "I barely remember it. They came to Storm's End right around the time Stannis was born. They were really boring. I never saw any of that weird magic stuff that people always talk about. They must be making it up."
Elbert shot Robert a sharp look. "Mind your tongue, Robert. My uncle was there when the crown prince showed his abilities, and the crown prince was supposedly only one at the time. You will not be making such comments while we're in the capital, do you understand?"
"Sheesh, I get it already!" Robert grumbled. "I'm just saying what I think. The dragons must be made up too. They're already dead."
"Then the king would be a fool to declare such a thing," Elbert retorted.
"He probably is," Robert griped. "I mean, he's with his sister, isn't he? How weird is that?"
Another sharp glance from Elbert was enough to finally make Robert clam up, but Ned knew that these were just his friend's honest thoughts when it came to his extended family. To be honest, Ned himself did not know how to feel about the royal family. He had never met them, and the Iron Throne seemed like a distant thing to him. It never really played a role in his life.
Until now.
He was marching right into their city, where he would meet up with the rest of his family to celebrate the princes' name day as well as the return of the dragons.
Ned decided to put the matter to rest for now. Dwelling on it would do him no good, right? Hopefully he didn't come close to one of the dragons. Lyanna's letter boasted that she had petted one of them, much to his horror.
His sister was too wild sometimes.
'Brandon becoming friends with the crown prince is weird too.'
While Ned was building his friendship with Robert, Brandon went and befriended the crown prince.
Life was full of twists, wasn't it?
Despite his intentions, thoughts of dragons and the Targaryens kept popping up in Ned's head as they continued their trek through the Riverlands. Eventually, they came across an unnamed village close to the river Trident. It was very small and overall very unremarkable. It wasn't too far off from the inn at the crossroads, where they would cross the river to the other side. Other smaller cities were in the area too, places that Ned had only read about but never seen. Like the infamous Harroway Town where Maegor The Cruel had gone on a harrowing purge of house Harroway and any who might share their blood.
'Hmm, my mind always seems to return to the Targaryens,' Ned mused to himself.
How worrying.
Anyway, the village probably couldn't house more than two hundred people, and it had no sept. But as they rode through, Ned spotted a man standing in what appeared to be the village center preaching to a small audience. He wore disheveled brown robes that had seen better days. The same could be said for the man's face, which was unkempt.
The man's poor appearance did not seem to take away from the strength of his voice and his message.
"-an abomination! Already there are tales of his fire, and now dragons are returning! Hear me! These are signs! Signs that speak to dark times! For it was these same instruments that brought an end to the Valyrians so long ago! Should we allow this so-called prince to lead us to a similar fate? I say no! We must maintain our faith and speak against their abominable ways! They keep to their impious ways by continuing their blasphemous marriages! They do not belong in the embrace of the Seven!"
The crowd was ensnared by the speech as they clapped and cheered.
Ned was confused. "What is he talking about?"
Robert looked confused too. Only Elbert appeared alarmed.
"Impossible. They couldn't be spreading this close to Harrenhal. Not yet."
Ned didn't understand. "What do you mean, Elbert?"
The young Arryn ignored him as he quickly turned his horse back to where Lord Yohn Royce was riding. The imposing man seemed to have already heard of the "commotion" and was ready when Elbert approached him.
The two shared words, but they were too far for Ned to hear them.
Robert frowned. "What's got Elbert looking so worried now?"
Ned wasn't sure, but it was clear that whatever it was had to do with this disheveled man's words. Was he a preacher? A septon? Ned had never encountered one before. He never went to the septs in the Vale, as that was no place for an old gods worshiper like him. He thought that they were better dressed than this, though. He hadn't been paying too much attention to what the man was preaching, catching only parts of it.
Neither Ned nor Robert would receive an answer unfortunately. They only saw Lord Royce report something to Jon Arryn inside his carriage, which forced the much older lord to come out and see the preacher for himself.
They never found out what happened after that, as Elbert ushered them forward as Jon Arryn stayed behind with Yohn Royce and some other men in their group.
"You're keeping stuff from us now?" Robert didn't look too happy. "Is it because of what that guy was saying? Talking bad about the Targaryens?"
Elbert didn't answer him, not right away. Ned noticed him tighten his grip on his reins.
"Robert, drop it for now. It's not something you have to worry about yet."
The young Baratheon scowled but kept quiet as he faced forward, sulking.
Ned glanced back to the small village as they continued toward the river.
Something in his heart told him that this was far from over.