On the eastern side of the continent of Westeros, at the point where the Blackwater Rush flows into the Narrow Sea, there lies a volcanic island.This place is the cradle of House Targaryen's rise—the ancestral land of dragons—and the traditional fief of the heirs to the Iron Throne.Its name is Dragonstone.
Originally, the island held only a few scattered fishing villages and shepherds grazing sheep along the rocky tidal flats.Yet during this long summer, an unprecedented spectacle appeared—
On land far poorer than the mainland, heavy golden wheat ears swayed up and down with the sea breeze, rolling like waves across dry land.The villagers who had been ordered to clear land and plant wheat were overwhelmed with excitement. In their eyes, this was a miracle—a miracle brought by Prince of Dragonstone, Rhaegar himself.
The leading old fisherman stammered excitedly as he spoke to the Crown Prince, who had personally come to inspect the fields.
"Th-this is wonderful! Noble Your Highness! I've lived to such an old age and never once seen a harvest like this! In the past, villagers sowed seeds on the rocky flats—one family could only get enough grain in a season to bake a few loaves of bread. But now—now even the best lands of the Riverlands or the Reach couldn't compare! This is a miracle! All because of your arrival!"
Trembling, he bent forward, trying to kiss the hem of the Crown Prince's robe.The villagers all thought the prince's handsome radiance far surpassed the statues of the Seven inside the septs.
Rhaegar smiled and personally helped the old man up. Turning toward the fields, he gently brushed a handful of plump wheat ears and said warmly,
"The seeds were sent by the Prince of Summerhall—my younger brother, Viserys. Do not forget his contribution."
"Yes! The two noble princes have brought us a harvest never seen before!"
The village was immersed in joy, and the Crown Prince himself seemed infected by the atmosphere.He climbed a nearby hill and looked down upon all the land on Dragonstone that he had ordered to be planted with wheat. Everywhere he looked was a golden scene of abundance.
The wheat grew vigorously, stubbornly sprouting even from cracks in the rocks, as if by magic. Bathed in the moist sea breeze, it completely covered the island's once-black, ash-gray stone ground.Dragonstone's main castle—its outline resembling a black dragon—now lay comfortably nestled atop soft, rolling waves of wheat.
The Crown Prince's silver hair fluttered in the sea wind, gleaming brilliantly under the sun. His purple eyes turned toward the harbor.
Every twenty days, Viserys would send a small ship bearing supplies—but never letters.Rhaegar had tried sending ravens to his brother, apologizing for that unspoken matter between them. Viserys' reply was brief, asking him not to blame himself.
Rhaegar knew well that with his current married status, after that confession, he would never again receive letters from his brother filled with the same warmth, emotion, and beauty as before.He thought sadly that perhaps his brother still loved him—but as a younger brother loves an elder.He should not ask for more.
Viserys did indeed show respect and care toward his brother. He never stopped sending supplies to Dragonstone, and through these channels, Rhaegar also learned much about his brother's situation at Summerhall.
Qyburn, unpopular at the Citadel, had gained Viserys' favor and now served as the Prince of Summerhall's chief maester.Tyrion, the disregarded son of House Lannister, had taken on the role of Hand to the Prince, managing affairs of the fief on Viserys' behalf.
Summerhall was also vigorously reclaiming land. Like Dragonstone, it planted the new strain of wheat, and the entire domain was managed in perfect order.
Rhaegar's only worry was something else.
He had heard that Viserys had expressed to their father, King Aerys, his interest in pyromancers. Fire was the guardian of House Targaryen, and refining flame was, in his words, "a good idea"—
Hearing such words perfectly aligned with his own obsessions, Aerys burst into laughter and gifted Viserys the alchemists' guild's Belis, along with an entire cart of wildfire.
After that, his brother also became deeply engrossed. It was said he had collected large quantities of oily black liquid that seeped and flowed across the ground.That substance could burn, but it was far less convenient than charcoal—so inconvenient that even ordinary farmers rarely used it.
Rhaegar was deeply worried. He wanted to go personally, but feared embarrassing or upsetting his brother, so he instead asked Lord Jon Connington to visit Summerhall on his behalf.
By calculation, Jon should be back by now.
The Crown Prince mounted his horse and rode back toward the castle where he resided.
This castle, built using lost Valyrian craftsmanship, bore dragon motifs everywhere.The great hall was shaped like a colossal dragon lying at rest. The wall torches were dragon claws, and the dragon's tail formed an arched bridge.
Standing on the bridge, Rhaegar heard cheerful shouts and laughter below.
His newlywed wife, Lyanna, was wearing linen trousers and holding a slender silver sword, sparring with a Braavosi water dancer in the open ground near the Dragon Tail Gate.
The water dancer had been recommended by Viserys before Rhaegar's wedding.
Back then, his brother had joked mischievously:"People of the North are so stingy—they won't even give an ice sword as a dowry! Forget it, brother. I have a friend whose swordsmanship is superb—he's like a fine blade himself! I'm giving him to you!"
On Dragonstone, Rhaegar had trained together with Syrio, and he truly was a master—his style entirely different from Arthur Dayne's.Rhaegar arranged for him to train Lyanna, who dearly wished to wield a sword like a knight.
"Left! Left! Right!" Syrio instructed, holding a long wooden rod.
Lyanna's gray eyes were wide with excitement as she responded, searching for an opening—only to be struck by her instructor, her slender sword knocked away and a wooden tip stopping at her throat!
"You must learn to see the true nature of things," the water dancer said.Then he lowered his head slightly and saluted the Crown Prince, who had walked over.
Rhaegar picked up Lyanna's long silver sword from the ground and gently instructed her as well,"Thrusting is the best way to attack with a blade shaped like this."
Syrio nodded in agreement."Prince Viserys is extremely skilled at it. He's incredibly fast, with long reach. At the Braavos water dancer tournament, he could complete three thrusts in an instant! He became the final champion. After that match, courtesans flocked to him—wanting to get close to such a young yet stunning champion—but he slipped away like a rabbit, darting straight out of the crowd."
Rhaegar listened intently.Before his eyes, it was as if his brother's every movement appeared once more. He could imagine Viserys' heroic bearing.
He maintained a gentle smile, and neither of the two beside him—not even his wife—noticed the melancholy and affection hidden in his eyes.
Before the sunset dipped into the Narrow Sea that day, Jon Connington returned to Dragonstone aboard a purple-sailed ship sent by the Prince of Summerhall.
Along with him came ten chests of cod, salmon, trout, lobster, and lamprey sealed in salt and seaweed, a basket of sweet lemons from Highgarden, wildflower honey, and other seasonal gifts.
Because these gifts were delivered to the kitchens, the evening's banquet included a dish of lamprey stewed with turnips and cabbage.
Lyanna, a duke's daughter raised in the cold North, stared curiously at the eel's head bobbing in the thick soup."Can this… really be eaten?"
Jon couldn't help saying,"This is indeed a delicacy of the King's Landing court, Your Grace. I think His Highness prefers it even more than venison or roasted onions."
"That's enough, Jon," Rhaegar interrupted from the seat of honor.
He personally ladled a bowl of eel soup for his wife and asked her to try it. While eating almond trout himself, he asked Jon about what he had seen on the journey.
The red-haired earl spoke frankly,"The Prince of Summerhall is indeed deeply involved with pyromancers. Many affairs are handled by that Lannister son. The prince has set aside a piece of land in his domain—aside from himself, Maester Qyburn, and the pyromancer Belis, no one may enter without his permission. Violators are executed."
Rhaegar set down his silver knife.
"He allowed me to observe once. Something was clearly being refined inside. Charcoal was scattered on the ground, along with sulfur brought from Dorne—its smell was suffocating. There were also remnants of thick stone walls built inside. Apparently, the prince personally authorized craftsmen to enter every few days and build several thick walls as quickly as possible using stone."
"A repeated process?" the Crown Prince asked.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Rhaegar explained for his brother,"It's some kind of experiment. Viserys has liked experiments since childhood. Don't forget—we once brought him all kinds of moldy food. He even made a medicine called qingmeisu."
Jon didn't believe anything useful could be extracted from mold, even though both he and the Crown Prince possessed those small crystalline bottles containing qingmeisu. To him, they were merely curiosities, casually stored away.
"What the prince is refining might be similar to wildfire—capable of burning down even thick walls. It's said to be like a dragon beating its wings. Those guarding outside could feel the ground shaking, unable to stand steadily," Jon looked directly at Rhaegar."He will likely present this achievement to His Majesty the King."
—With a younger son whose madness aligns so well with your father's obsessions, Your Highness. Have you thought about how things might develop?
Yet Rhaegar showed approval of his brother's interests."Father loving him is only natural."
"Obviously, aside from the king's favor, your brother is very popular as a prince. During my stay, I saw a grandson of House Frey come to serve as a squire, and also from the North—the bastard son of the Dreadfort's lord, that so-called younger brother of Domeric Bolton—he has been corresponding with the prince as well."
Rhaegar listened calmly and nodded."Who wouldn't love my brother? He's so… clever and lively."
Jon had no choice but to continue, sharper this time,"Of course. Besides flattering the king, perhaps it's also because the prince is extraordinarily generous. He always has methods no one knows where he learned. Before I left, the prince asked me whether I wanted to cultivate pearls in Sapphire Bay within my domain. He even has a small booklet for me to follow."
As he spoke, Jon took out a parchment booklet and handed it to the Crown Prince.
Rhaegar glanced at it—it was clearly his brother's handwriting.He said gently,"Jon, I've told you before. Viserys once read about methods to harvest pearls like crops. This is his整理 version. Don't waste it—try it, won't you?"
Jon licked his lips, then spoke bluntly,"Your Highness, I don't doubt that pearls can truly be cultivated—and that my lands would become immensely wealthy. But the prince is too generous. I can't help wondering what House Frey and Bolton's bastard have received from him."
Rhaegar frowned."Jon…"
Lyanna, seated opposite, also caught the dissatisfaction implied in the Griffin's Roost earl's words. She frowned deeply."Viserys is not that kind of person, my lord. I believe in him."
Rhaegar smiled warmly at his wife, and the entire hall seemed brighter for it.
Jon, however, felt a fire burning in his chest. He gulped down a glass of Arbor wine, but it did nothing to extinguish the flames."I spoke out of turn about the Prince of Summerhall, Your Highness. But please believe I harbor no ill intent."
Rhaegar soothed his friend,"Jon, you're tired. Enjoy the food. Rest well here."
Dragonstone's chefs were no worse than those of King's Landing. Including fruits, the banquet featured eighteen dishes, blending Northern and Crownlands flavors.
This wasn't Jon's first time dining with the Crown Prince—but it was the first time a Crown Princess sat at the table.He looked at the couple, finding the food increasingly tasteless.
Rhaegar noticed and let out a soft sigh.
After the meal, the Crown Prince rose and slowly walked to the window with a bitter smile."Jon, you might as well say everything you want to say."
"Yes, Your Highness. There is something I must say."Jon gazed at the Silver Prince and voiced his deepest concern."Do you know? The grain output of the prince's domain is projected to reach a terrifying level. Yes—because of the new seeds. Just like Dragonstone, layers upon layers of wheat ears roll like golden waves. This means he can feed many people."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Lyanna asked, puzzled.
"Your Grace, by 'many people,' I don't mean the smallfolk of the Seven Kingdoms."Jon took a breath."Prince Viserys has issued a recruitment proclamation across the realm. He intends to recruit at least ten thousand men."
In Jon Connington's view, Viserys was clearly building his own power, eyeing the Iron Throne and the Crown Prince's future position.
Yet even after hearing this, Rhaegar still defended his brother. He smiled faintly.
"Yes, Jon. He told me. I know he plans to recruit soldiers. In fact, Viserys also hopes that I will join him—in forming our own army here on Dragonstone."
...
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"Game of Thrones: Dragon Prince"
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(End Chapter)