Chapter 16: Dragon Eggs in the Secret Chamber
The Red Keep — Maegor's Holdfast
At the very heart of the Red Keep stood Maegor's Holdfast, a massive square fortress of stone and iron, set apart from the rest of the castle like a city within a city. Its walls were impossibly thick, its foundations deep, and its design cruelly deliberate.
This was the final refuge of the Targaryen kings.
A dry moat ringed the Holdfast, studded with iron spikes. A single drawbridge provided access, watched day and night by the Kingsguard, white cloaks stark against the red stone. No secret tunnels were meant to lead here—Maegor the Cruel had seen to that.
After the death of the dragons, the royal family had grown increasingly cautious. The days when kings rode freely across the realm on dragonback were long past. The Targaryens no longer ruled as living gods, but as mortal monarchs surrounded by enemies, suspicion, and memory.
Within Maegor's Holdfast resided King Jaehaerys II Targaryen, Queen Shaera, their son Prince Aerys, his wife Princess Rhaella, and the infant Prince Rhaegar.
The dragons were gone.
And with them, much of the fear that once bound the great lords of Westeros.
The King's Unease
The morning after the feast, Princess Rhaella came swiftly to the king, Rhaegar held close to her breast.
"Father," she said quietly, her voice tight with unease, "Rhaegar… he dreamed of dragons."
King Jaehaerys II stiffened.
A Dragon Dream.
His gaze lingered on the child's pale hair and violet eyes. Too young. Far too young.
"Dreams are dangerous things to our blood," the king said after a long pause. "More dangerous than swords."
He gestured for them to sit.
"You must not encourage this," Jaehaerys said firmly. "When Rhaegar is older, he must be taught to forget such things. Dragons, dreams, prophecies — all of it."
His voice carried the weight of old grief.
He had seen what dragon-madness did to men.
His uncle Prince Aerion Targaryen, dead from wildfire.
His father King Aegon V, lost at Summerhall, chasing a dream of rebirth in flame.
The ghosts of that night still haunted the dynasty.
Princess Rhaella nodded. She had lived through Summerhall herself. Fire, screams, collapse — memories that never truly faded.
The Targaryens had tried too hard, for too long.
Nine archmaesters crossing the narrow sea at the command of Aegon III.
Baelor the Blessed praying over cold eggs until he starved himself.
Aegon IV and his ridiculous wooden dragon.
Aerion Brightflame, drinking wildfire in madness.
Aegon V, lighting the pyres that destroyed his own line.
Every attempt had failed.
Every attempt had exacted a price.
The King's Secret
At last, Jaehaerys II rose.
"There is something you must see," he said.
He led them deeper into Maegor's Holdfast, through halls seldom used, until they reached a storage chamber reserved for relics of the dragon kings — ancient armor, broken lances, ceremonial swords bearing the three-headed dragon.
The king stopped before a rack of old red-and-gold armor.
With surprising effort, he moved it aside.
Beneath a fine Myrish carpet, hidden among the red stone tiles, lay a narrow seam.
A door.
The king opened it.
A staircase descended into darkness.
Princess Rhaella's breath caught. She had lived her entire life within these walls — and never known.
Jaehaerys lit a lamp and led them down.
Beneath Maegor's Holdfast
The chamber below was small, stone-vaulted, and silent.
Dragonbone racks lined the walls.
Upon them rested dragon eggs.
Not one.
Not two.
But many.
They gleamed like gemstones — gold veined with silver, deep reds shot through with black, pale whites marbled with green. Though lifeless, they radiated ancient power.
The true wealth of House Targaryen.
Some were known by grim history:
A gold-and-silver egg once claimed by Prince Aerion Brightflame
A pale egg handled by King Aegon V before Summerhall
An egg recovered by the agents of Brynden Rivers, stolen during the chaos following the Dance of the Dragons
There were also smaller, sickly-looking eggs — dull green, misshapen.
"These," the king said quietly, "were laid by the last dragon."
The malformed she-dragon who lived briefly in King's Landing — weak, stunted, and doomed. After her death, winters grew longer, summers shorter.
The world grew colder.
A Warning
"This is our true treasury," Jaehaerys II said, resting his hand on one egg. "As long as these exist, House Targaryen endures."
He looked hard at his daughter-in-law.
"If the day ever comes when the throne is threatened beyond saving, these eggs may buy ships, soldiers, loyalty."
Then his voice hardened.
"But you must never seek to wake them."
Rhaegar reached out, his small fingers brushing a smooth shell.
Cold.
Silent.
Yet something stirred in him.
Princess Rhaella bowed her head. "Yes, Father."
Jaehaerys closed his eyes briefly.
"I would rather our house survive without dragons," he said softly, "than be destroyed by the hope of their return."
Achievement: Explorer
You have witnessed the greatest remaining hoard of dragon eggs in the known world — a legacy sleeping beneath stone and fear.
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