Jon Stone only thought Prince Rhaegar had a natural interest in dragons; he never imagined Rhaegar's designs were far grander.
Rhaegar meant to build an intelligence corps—he needed sharp-eyed spies and strong sword-arms to bring home the dragon eggs lost abroad, whether in the perilous Pale Mountains or across the sea in Essos.
The Braavosi hedge-knight Sersa was ill-suited to such work, and Barristan was no thief-taker. Rhaegar's little company would soon need its own spymaster; dirty jobs demanded dirty hands.
A map of the Known World hung in Rhaegar's bedchamber, marked with the places he suspected lost eggs might lie.
After the dragons died out, hatching one required both dragon eggs and dragonseed—neither could be absent.
Eggs were rarer even than dragonseed.
On Dragonstone, elsewhere in Westeros, even in Essos, traces of dragonseed could still be found. One daughter of Jaehaerys I had fled across the sea to become a Courtesan and left many children behind. Though the Blackfyre male line was extinct, the house had been prolific; any surviving daughters would carry the blood. In Braavos, the Black Pearl—a Courtesan—was a dragonlord's daughter and shared a father with Daemon Blackfyre.
In bygone days the Dragonlords had guarded their eggs like treasure, yet the realm's many upheavals saw them scattered. One lady sold three eggs to the Sealord of Braavos for a ship; during the Dance of the Dragons more eggs vanished. Most reckless of all was Aegon the Unworthy, who bedded three daughters of a lord and afterward gifted each a dragon egg.
Apart from the eggs still held by the blood of the dragon, others lay beyond their grasp.
"The three Essosi eggs should now be in Braavos or Pentos. Near Sheepstealer's bones in The Pale Mountains there may be traces. Prince Daemon was ever generous; no gift is costlier than a dragon egg." So Rhaegar mused.
The dragons owned the world's greatest hoard of eggs, yet Rhaegar meant to gather the stray ones as well.
Especially the three in Essos—eggs certain to hatch one day—they must be secured.
Some would later claim those eggs came from Asshai, but Rhaegar suspected they had slipped from a Sealord's vault; Braavosi pride and a wish to avoid dispute kept the city from admitting it.
The Sealord's seat is not hereditary; every family produces spendthrifts, and emptying the coffers is common enough. Prince Daemon once slew a dead Sealord's son over the Sea Snake's daughter.
"I must find men, organize them, have them hunt news of eggs for me." Rhaegar wondered where he might recruit a spymaster to his cause.
While Rhaegar pondered, King Jaehaerys II waved the envoy of Lord Arryn from the chamber.
He unfolded his great wooden map of Westeros for Rhaegar; the carved pieces still stood where they had last been placed.
Explaining the realm's balance of power was one of Jaehaerys II's favorite pastimes.
Jaehaerys II was King, but also a fond Grandfather.
"Knowledge should be prized above wine; alas, your father never learned. He loved women too well and lost himself in them. Perhaps the crown should have passed to Duncan instead." Jaehaerys sighed—every father's grief when sons fall short. Westeros's strict primogeniture kept the line clear, yet it set drunken dullards on thrones and left abler younger brothers brooding. When an heir died, ill-prepared second sons found themselves suddenly wearing a crown.
Yet his grandson Rhaegar showed a keen mind and a gift for rule—he would make a fitting King.
"Our realm now rests on balance. We must bind the greatest Lords to us so their weight tips the scale. Once balance fails, the dynasty unravels." Jaehaerys set his carved pieces in place as he spoke.
With the dragons gone, their blood had lost its supremacy. Wise Jaehaerys saw the truth: maintain balance, prevent any league of Lords from rising above the crown.
Rhaegar nodded. Beside the pleasure-loving Aerys, Jaehaerys II was the dragon who strained every sinew for his line. Plain of face and no great warrior, he was still a shrewd King of wide vision.
"A King must know whom to trust and whom to lean upon. Those who draw steel against you must be punished; those who kneel must be spared. Justice and balance are the heart of kingship—reward, befriend, or strike as need demands to keep the throne secure."
"Those who owe their high seats to us are the ones to trust: House Tully, House Tyrell. The Baratheons share our own blood. The others once styled themselves kings—the Starks in The North, the Arryns in The Vale, the Lannisters in The West. Proud houses, hard to bend. The Dornish were the same, yet marriage has made them kin and gentler."
"First the marches: Iron Islands, Dorne, The North, The Vale. Each is suited for defense, not conquest, and none longs for life in King's Landing. The Ironborn are fierce but few and hungry—little more than reavers. The North is divided by faith from the south and stalked by winter; its people are sparse. Dorne is hot-blooded and quarrelsome, able to guard her own sands but with little strength to project beyond. The Vale, ringed by mountains, is safest—rich in men and grain, open to the sea—yet its Lords are as stubborn as their Pale Mountains and seldom meddle in the capital's games." So Jaehaerys began with the outer provinces.