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Game Of Thrones: I Became a Crown Prince For a Day

[ In the prequel to Game of Thrones, titled "Dragon Family," Rhaegar defies the odds by surviving despite being destined to die young. Despite his sickness and loss of birthright, he refuses to surrender, embarking on a quest to explore and conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Along the way, he discovers the secrets of the Black Death's Skull, gaining a 50% increase in fire resistance from the dragon's legacy. He also encounters the auspicious white deer, receiving blessings for a long life. Delving into Blackfire and the Dark Sisters, he acquires the King's Gaze and the Knight's Oath. Rhaegar's journey sees him riding dragons, claiming the Iron Throne, and resisting the manipulations of opportunists. As winter approaches, he remains resolute, ready to face whatever challenges come his way atop his dragon steed. ] (*Important Note* In the original narrative (Lore), the one day heir prince was named Baelon, in honor of Viserys's father. However, the author, disliking the name Baelon, opted for Rhaegar, inspired by the Prince Rhaegar in Game of Thrones.) ("I don’t own this fanfic, it's merely a translation. I didn’t do the translation, but I wanted to read it on Webnovel, so I uploaded it here.")

MohaXx · TV
Not enough ratings
296 Chs

Chapter 93: An Unexpected Meeting With Lyonel

"Yes, just a moment..." The captain of the guards, armored, cast fearful glances at the imposing Cannibal before hastening down the wall.

The dragon's arrival had undoubtedly drawn attention, evident from the open gates of the castle. A procession emerged, arranged in two rows, with attendants bowing their heads in deference to the dragon's presence.

Among them walked several nobles, adorned in fine attire, led by an elderly man with a dignified countenance. His silver hair, a hallmark of Valyrian descent, thinned at the crown, while his keen blue eyes betrayed a shrewdness.

The group moved with purpose, yet maintained their composure until they reached the gate, pausing to regard the prince astride the dragon's back.

"Cannibal, lower me," Rhaegar requested softly.

"Roar..." The dragon emitted a low growl, lowering its body to allow its rider to dismount.

Maintaining a distance of one hundred meters, both parties observed each other. The assembled group dared not approach the dragon, instead standing before the city gate to pay their respects.

Rhaegar approached slowly, his gaze scanning the line of individuals until it settled on a familiar face.

"The Seven Gods have blessed me, allowing me to meet the prince here. How wonderful," exclaimed a rounded figure, quickly advancing from across the room with an agitated expression.

Before Rhaegar could utter a word, a smile spread across his face as he greeted, "Lord Lyonel, why are you here?"

The figure revealed itself to be none other than Lyonel Strong, the former Hand of the King. Despite his quick steps, Lyonel's stomach jiggled slightly, unable to contain his joy. "Prince, your well-being brings me great relief. I've been scouring the Narrow Sea in search of your whereabouts."

Ever since Rhaegar's dragon vanished, Lyonel had been dispatched to search tirelessly. Recently, he had visited Driftmark, home to the Velaryon family, before unexpectedly encountering Rhaegar during a visit to the Celtigar family on Claw Isle.

Upon their meeting, Lyonel bent down laboriously, his hands inspecting Rhaegar as if checking for injuries.

With a soft laugh, Rhaegar reassured him, "I'm fine. My dragon landed in Crackclaw Point to recover from its injuries, and I've only just returned a few days ago."

His words were not deceitful; Cannibal had indeed suffered severe injuries and had returned recently. However, the journey had been fraught with twists and turns, though he had been away from Dragonstone Island for less than ten days in total.

Relieved to find the prince unharmed, Lyonel expressed, "Prince, your absence without any news had the king and the princess greatly concerned for your safety."

"I apologize for causing them worry. I encountered a few obstacles, but I resolved them as quickly as I could," Rhaegar replied, moved by his father and sister's concerns.

"It's a relief that you're safe," Lyonel remarked, straightening up. He then led Rhaegar towards the city gates, introducing him to Lord Bartimos Celtigar, the patriarch of the Celtigar family and the ruler of Claw Isle.

Rhaegar nodded respectfully to Lord Bartimos, acknowledging his father's loyal bannerman. "Greetings, Lord Bartimos."

Lord Bartimos reciprocated with a courteous smile, gesturing towards the castle entrance. "It is an honor to host you on Claw Isle, Prince. Please, allow us to extend our hospitality."

Rhaegar accepted graciously, saying, "The honor is mine, Lord Bartimos."

With Lyonel by his side, Rhaegar proceeded into the castle.

As a renowned maritime family, the Celtigar lineage paralleled the Velaryons, initially amassing wealth through taxes levied on ships. With a formidable fleet at their disposal, they ventured into maritime trade, rapidly accumulating riches within a few generations.

Upon entering the castle, Rhaegar was immediately struck by the opulence that permeated the halls. Luxurious mil carpets lined the floors, windows boasted Valentine glass, and walls shimmered with gold and silver embellishments. Surveying the room, Rhaegar couldn't help but marvel at the wealth on display.

"Rich as hell," he mused inwardly.

Bartimos, ever eager to maintain appearances, observed Rhaegar's admiration with a self-satisfied smile. "Prince, forgive the modesty of our welcome. While we couldn't throw a grand reception, the kitchen has prepared a fitting banquet to honor Lord Lyonel."

Though Bartimos feigned regret, Rhaegar was unfazed. His visit was not merely social; he had come with purpose.

As the servants busied themselves with banquet preparations, Bartimos engaged Rhaegar and Lyonel in conversation. Lyonel recounted the events on Dragonstone Island during Rhaegar's absence—raids, executions, and Rhaenyra's fervent appeals to search for her brother. In turn, Rhaegar shared his own adventures in the Peninsula, leaving his hosts astonished by the tales of curses and magic.

Bartimos, skeptical, questioned, "Prince, do you truly believe that magic has invaded Crackclaw Point?"

Without hesitation, Rhaegar affirmed, "Certainly."

Lyonel, more diplomatic, interjected, "Prince, magic has long been deemed a legend by most. Its resurgence is quite unexpected."

Rhaegar posed a thought-provoking query, "If dragons were to vanish, would the world dismiss them as mere legend?"

The room fell silent as both Bartimos and Lyonel grappled with the implications of Rhaegar's words, uncertain of how to respond.

Bartimos chuckled, his hand resting on his palm. "Indeed, Prince Rhaegar speaks truth. In my youth, I traversed the Narrow Sea aboard ships, encountering many adventures."

Seated comfortably on a plush cushion, Rhaegar broached his request earnestly. "My lord, I've come to Claw Isle seeking to borrow a boat to transport the free people who have pledged allegiance to me. I implore your generous assistance."

Bartimos hesitated, his gaze shifting to Lyonel, who remained silent. It was clear that such a seemingly trivial request as borrowing a ship for transportation wasn't as straightforward when it involved a group of Peninsula savages.

Aware of the unspoken concerns, Rhaegar turned to Lyonel, suggesting, "If you doubt my words, accompany me to Crackclaw Point to witness the truth firsthand. The nobles there have already sworn their loyalty to me."

At Rhaegar's proposition, the room fell into a palpable silence. Lyonel's eyes gleamed with an enigmatic intensity as if peering into the depths of Rhaegar's intentions.

Meanwhile, Bartimos contemplated, recalling his interactions with the Peninsula nobles. They were known for their barbaric and confrontational nature, often engaging in skirmishes and petty feuds.

Given their formidable military prowess and the presence of Rhaegar's wildling followers, Bartimos realized the potential strategic advantage of securing their allegiance. After all, even cannon fodder could tip the scales in a conflict.

(Word count: 1,063)