Chapter 2

97 AC, Kings Landing

"It's a good match" Viserys reiterated, his tone cheerful "You are upsetting yourself over nothing. She's a fine looking woman, you know this." 

Daemon swirled around, his face twisted in an angry scowl "She's a faceless man in disguise that's what she is." He said with a scoff.

"Do you even hear what they say about her?" Daemon said as he swept his arm across in furious motion "That she is more half horse than she is woman, a man grown with teats." He said in a whine, his voice not unlike the dying wheeze of old men.

Viserys withheld a chuckle at his brother's exaggerated distress.

He watched his brother plump down onto the stool, the sudden visage of a petulant boy more than the knighted man he was.

"The same people who say that you are ill-tempered and contemptuous? A scoundrel of a Prince?" Viserys said with a raised eyebrow.

Daemon at sixteen namedays had already gained a reputation of a sort, a reputation their father greatly disliked yet it seemed their father's opinion on some of Daemon's escapades did little to temper Daemon.

Though father rarely could stay too disappointed at Daemon, not when Daemon's charming side soothed offense just as easily as he made offense. 

"See! If their judgement of me can be so precise then their waggling tongues about her must be true!" Daemon declared and Viserys began to laugh loudly.

Daemon glared and Viserys spoke up "Gods brother, you are many things but you are not a scoundrel." Viserys' smile was beaming. Daemon was scowling though Viserys could see there was little heat behind it.

"Mayhaps it's better to say you're a fiend? A ne'er-do-well?" Viserys posed to his brother in jest and it seemed to have worked as his brother's moroseness began to steam away from his expression, a smile filtered past his previous moody expression.

"Nay, that's not quite right either." Daemon said with a smile after a well. He got up from his stool, raising his arms and walked towards his Viserys with his arms aloft, his gait predatory and his head leaned forward. "Doesn't roll off of the tongue, ne'ver-do-well." Daemon said as he rolled the phrase off of his tongue with deliberate intent.

"The Rogue Prince." Daemon said airily, his eyes shining with self-praise as he arrived by Viserys, his arms fell on Viserys' shoulders. 

Viserys looked at his brother humorously "Giving yourself a title already brother? And a title that will displease father so?" he asked as he pushed his brother's hands off of his shoulders.

"Bah! Father was just as rogue as a child. Did he or did he not dare to smack Balerion's snout at six namedays?" Daemon dismissed.

Viserys' expression fell slightly, something Daemon noticed. "My apologies bro-"

Viserys stopped his brother "Do not apologise brother, you clearly meant no offense. Besides, Balerion has been dead for years now."

Daemon grunted but said nothing more.

They fell in a bout of silence, one that Viserys decided to break it when he saw Daemon fall once more in his darker mood.

He knew his brother well. He had the blood of the dragon racing hotly in his veins that made it seem like nothing could scorch him yet underneath it, Viserys knew his brother's worries could eat at him until he did something foolish and lashed out.

"You think that this is a disaster it need not be so" Viserys began, this time the tone of his voice filled with sincerity as he tried to reach Daemon.

Daemon side glanced at Viserys and Viserys continued when he saw Daemon intently listening in silence. "I did not know Aemma until merely days we were set to marry." Viserys sighed. He had been nervous then.

"You seemed like you were ready to soil your breaches the night before the wedding." Daemon said with a curl of the lips and Viserys chuckled.

"I may have done so though I will deny it forever if I ever hear it outside these chambers" Viserys said with a glare and Daemon mirthfully raised his hands in surrender.

"I swear I heard nothing, brother" Daemon said with an innocent charming smile.

Viserys shook his head in mirth before he continued "Yet I need not have worried." Viserys said with fondness. "I grew to care for her then love her and now we have a daughter together." Viserys looked at Daemon 

"It will be worth it, I promise you brother, when you hold your child in your arms." He said as he walked towards Daemon and clasped his arm.

"What you feel now is nothing more than ugly fear that will be gone before you even know it." Viserys finished.

Daemon said nothing for a few moments until he looked up and met Viserys' gaze.

"Thank you brother." Daemon said, quieter and sincerer than he'd heard his brother sound like in a very long time.

Viserys smiled and nodded as he slapped his brother's shoulder. "Good. We should head back. Aegon should be here by now."

Daemon's expression darkened. "Has he decided to leave Dragonstone after all?"

"He never said he wouldn't come." Viserys said chidingly. Aegon said he was…busy, of all things, and that he would come a few days before the wedding.

An excuse that admittedly ran hollow given that on dragonback he could be here within the morn should he depart at first light. For the past six moons, Aegon had gained leave to go to Dragonstone in an accord with their father who not deigned to tell them why.

Even Gael's pleading seemed to have fallen on deaf ears.

"Ahh" Daemon mockingly enthused "Then our father wasn't going to summon to him to come to Kings Landing?" Daemon said with a pointed look, faint hints of a scowl breaking through.

Viserys sighed disappointed. Whilst he and Daemon were as close as brothers could be, Daemon and Aegon were the mirror opposite. Like two rival hatchlings, they couldn't stand each other.

He knew why. 

Daemon blamed Aegon for their mother's death despite what he and their father told him. Women died in childbirth all the time.

It was the will of the Gods. Resentment of the child did nothing but cause more pain.

It also didn't help that their brother was…aloof. Less so than in his youth but he was still far from sociable and preferred to spent his time with that odd journal he kept when he was not squiring with Ser Crabb or telling Gael fantastical mummer stories that he'd never heard about before.

It didn't help that wasn't as…easy to speak with like it was with himself or Daemon. 

He was more reclusive and rarely spoke with the young heirs or the Lords of the realm that were in court preferring to avoid gatherings as often as possible. Even with their father and grandfather Aegon rarely spoke more than was necessary from a young age.

Their father said Aegon reminded him of Vaegon but he didn't think that to be true. No bookish boy would have been as ready to meet fire with fire as often as he did with Daemon.

Vaegon had only cared for his books and his numbers. He wanted to snort. Aegon was far from a bookish boy that Daemon was oft to call him. 

For certain, Aegon had a keen mind and he did read like none other he knew. He'd spoken enough times with his brother of three and ten namedays on matters of history that were beyond his years and he'd seen the boy's talents with numbers that hinted similar talents to that of Vaegon but Viserys knew better. 

Viserys saw too much in Aegon's eyes when he saw the ships at the main port of Dragonstone.

Aegon had dreams of adventure, he had seen it then. The trips to Driftmark only solidified his thoughts on it. And their grandfather knew it too. He'd hinted as much several moons ago during a quiet supper between he and his grandparents.

"Let's not sour the evening brother." Viserys said as he grabbed his brother by the shoulder "For in two days, you will be a married man" Viserys said with a rapturous laugh.

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97 AC, Blackwater Bay

The air whistled sharply in his ears as he held on tightly onto the handles of his saddle, the darkening night enhanced by the grey clouds which approached, grey clouds which shrouded the dying lights of the dusk sun under its blanket.

Yet they rose and climbed and fought higher and higher, the powerful wings of Mīsaragorn struck and beat at the air, the noise of his wing membranes had sounded like the sharp snaps of a flag hanging up high on a pole during a windy day.

They dove into those grey clouds, clouds that were misty and rich with the precipice of showery rain, coating Mīsaragorn's scales with traces of dew just as the vapoury water wet his short silver hair. With a few more powerful beats of Mīsaragorn wings, they crashed out of the grey clouds, rays of orange light nearly blinding him as they continued to rise until his eyes adjusted.

He let out a breathless gasp, his lips parting in sharp smile as his eyes roved around him.

He never tired of this…this wonder that he'd grown to cherish more than any other.

He'd always sat by the window of an aeroplane, the sight of flying above the clouds was something he'd always liked, to watch the plane coast above the sea of clouds. 

Yet it paled in comparison to this…this ethereal experience of tasting the thin air above the clouds whilst atop a majestic being from folklore and gazing at the orange and red tinged horizon whose dying light sunk deep into the rolling sea of clouds.

They kept on rising for a little while longer until Mīsaragorn began to course through the air, his huffing sounds more silent than not, adding to the eerie quiet of their lonely trek above the clouds.

He stared out into the world, the familiar sight of the world's curvature to that of his old one.

He figured out the circumference, at least roughly, of Planetos using geometric observations just as Eratosthenes had done once in the Antiquities. The units of measurements in Westeros were similar to that of imperial units though it was imprecise and nonstandard…not that he expected much difference. 

Thankfully Dragonstone was only several hundred miles away from Kings Landing which had been perfect. He'd gotten a few maps that were more or less to scale. 

From there he just ended up using the more common distance and in the end he'd gotten to a figure that looked about the same as what he knew Earth to be.

Given that the gravity was the same, or least felt the same, he didn't expect any different but that at least confirmed that this was as close to Earth as there was.

Of course such information was rather useless he thought to himself with a smile. 

The things boredom make you do…

Still, he thought as his smile fell off, it was better than remaining in Kings Landing.

He might live a pampered life as a Prince even if he was an unimportant one but his life was filled with people he disliked.

The court was filled with people who were worse than the most opportunistic 'entourages' of celebrities in his old world were like and their waggling tongues were admittedly more cutting than he would admit out loud.

He was often compared to Viserys and Daemon, the likeable Heir and the dashing second son. Compared to them, he was little more than a disappointment to many people. 

If he was truly a child, he probably would have been deeply affected by such things.

As it was, it only made him more disaffected with it all.

Still, there were some positives in Kings Landing.

Out of all of his family, he liked Gael and Viserys the most. Gael, his aunt barely four namedays older than he, was a shy and kind girl that most mistook for being simple minded. She was a textbook introvert which had been exacerbated by her mother's coddling.

It took a little time – and a whole lot of Bilbo Baggins and hobbit heroics – but she grew out of her shell and was a little more confident.

Viserys though, had been what he had been to Gael in some ways. He was a good brother and a better man still. 

If this was anywhere but this messed up world, Viserys' disposition would have made him a great king in history. As it was, he would be easy prey to the serpents that lay below the tall grass…and it wouldn't only be capricious nobles that would seek to harm him.

It made him feel guilty for setting to leave as soon as he were ready in a number of years.

He shook his head and stared once more at the horizon. The dying embers of light were now almost gone and he knew it was time to go back.

He leaned forward to his left side and slapped at Mīsaragorn's scales and his dragon screeched in return, understanding his intent and Aegon's smile widened and his eyes gleamed in excited anticipation.

Mīsaragorn stopped flapping and they hung in the air for several long seconds before Mīsaragorn drew back his wings. Like anchor stones disappearing into the water before its long sink to the bottom of the sea, they fell.

And they fell until Mīsaragorn's tipped his body downward and they moved with terminal velocity and he had to hold firmer onto the handle. He jostled the saddle fixtures just to check it was still keeping him in and thankfully it was still fine.

Mīsaragorn screeched and Aegon whooped as he let go with one hand. He instantly regretted it as violent air nearly made him snap his back backwards and he quickly hugged closer to Mīsaragorn body though he did so laughing.

Soon enough they were out of the clouds and saw in the distance the faint lights of Kings Landing.

Mīsaragorn outstretched his wings and he nearly crashed into his saddle from the sudden opposite force and Mīsaragorn almost was vertical with the way the air was caught in his wings.

The journey not long after was a lot smoother as the city grew nearer and they circled about the outward part of the pit before Mīsaragorn landed amidst burning torches that cast fair light into the dusty pit.

He dismounted his dragon and slapped Mīsaragorn's scales.

The dragonkeepers with their long poles approached and he shook his head at them.

"Daor, gaomagon daor jenigon. Kessa sōvegon arlī naejot Zaldrīzesdōron" [No do not bother. He will fly black to Dragonston] he said

The dragonkeepers bowed their heads in acceptance. They knew by now that he disliked keeping Mīsaragorn in the chambers of the dragonpit. 

It had been a long battle with his father and grandfather that he won eventually when Mīsaragorn kept on obeying his commands and never ended up causing problems with the Crown lords or the commonfolk.

Amusingly, it earned Mīsaragorn the epithet the 'Obedient Dragon'. 

"Jikagon Mīsaragorn. Arlī naejot se zaldrīzes blēnon" [Go Mīsaragorn. Go back to the Dragonmount.] Aegon said to his dragon and he stepped back.

The dragon screeched, his high pitched cry echoed in the pit as his wings snapped open like a leather whip as he raised them. 

Gushes of winds were beaten into existence with each of his dragon's flap and Mīsaragorn began to rise, his strong legs digging into the dusty earth before Mīsaragorn began to push against the upturned earth and picked up speed, his long and wide wings beaten faster and faster until he was back into the air.

He watched Mīsaragorn go before he let off a sigh and schooled his expression.

He'd gotten good at that. 

"Issi pōnta umbagon syt nyke" [Are they waiting on me?] Aegon asked.

"Kessa ñuha dārilaros" [Yes my Prince] one of the dragonkeepers said.

Aegon nodded without changing his expression and he set off.

Soon enough he was through the Red Keep and arrived by the throne room.

The Kingsguard were there, four of them, though there were no one else there. Except for his father and grandparents.

His eyes fell on the monstrosity that was the Iron Throne, hundreds of jagged swords that were clattered before the steps made out of molten castle forged steel swords before merging into a dominating chair that could draw blood as easily as a finger across the edge of a blade. 

His grandfather was seated atop the Iron Throne, the throne that would cause the Targaryen family more pain and sorrow than any of them would ever realise.

His eyes veered to his grandfather's left and saw his grandmother seated there and to throne's right was his father.

"Grandfather, grandmother." He said with a bow before he gazed at his father "Father."

No one said anything for a few moments until his father spoke up "You are late." And his voice echoed in the gloomy throne room.