Skree-onk!
Caraxes banked in a circle, tucked his small hind legs tight against his wing mbranes, and beat his massive wings. His body plumted, executing a near-vertical landing.
BOOM—!
Daeron turned his head to the side, shielding his face from the powerful gust of wind kicked up by the dragon's landing.
Caraxes stretched his long neck. With his massive wings braced against the ground, standing as tall as a man, he leaned forward to nuzzle his "father's" chest.
"Give it another six months or a year, and I'll be riding you through the skies," Daeron said softly, gently scratching Caraxes under the jaw.
The hatchlings were growing fast.
His jaw, once covered in smooth scales, was now sprouting small spikes. Daeron couldn't pet him as carelessly as before.
Skree-onk!
Caraxes let out a soft trill. The sound was clear and lodious, matching the dragon's lithe and agile fra.
Ser Barristan strode over, his voice grave. "Prince, Maester Harvey reports that a raven has arrived from Dragonstone."
"Oh?"
Daeron paused mid-stroke.
Calculating the ti, his big brother Rhaegar had been at sea for nearly two months. It was about ti he returned.
"Let's talk inside."
Daeron patted Caraxes on the neck, signaling his return to the Red Keep.
Caraxes trilled, flapped his broad wings twice, and with a powerful kick of his small hind legs, his slender body shot up into the air, taking off almost vertically once again.
This was a natural advantage granted by his unique physiology.
Daeron took one last look at the young dragons playing in the sky, then led Barristan back toward the castle.
The three dragons had passed their vulnerable infancy. They could fly, and they had mastered dragonfire. If anyone wanted to harm them now, they would have to taste the flas first.
---
The Red Keep
As they walked, Daeron listened to Barristan's counsel.
"Prince, if Prince Rhaegar returns, he may ask you for a dragon," Barristan said, his worry evident.
Dragons represented power!
For House Targaryen, whose dragons had been extinct for over a hundred and fifty years, every mber dread of possessing one.
Just look at the King—he spent all day pestering the black dragon, Toothless. Even when he got singed by dragonfire or scratched by claws, he never tired of it.
Rhaegar would certainly be tempted.
Daeron replied calmly, "No one can make give up my children."
If anyone wanted a dragon, they could replicate his experience: go find a dragon egg and hatch it.
To ask for a dragon with nothing but empty words?
Not a chance!
"As long as you are prepared," Barristan said, relieved.
Halfway to the keep, they heard the sound of chasing and playful shouting.
Daeron glanced over.
His two younger brothers were running around the front yard, brandishing a "small wooden sword" and a "small wooden fork," sparring back and forth.
Careful! Those aren't just simple wooden toys.
"Second Brother!"
Hearing footsteps, Jaehaerys and Viserys lowered their weapons and ran over happily.
Daeron rubbed the heads of the two little tykes. "Be careful. Don't go swinging those weapons around recklessly."
"We know," Jaehaerys grinned.
Viserys nodded obediently as well.
Daeron furrowed his brow; he didn't believe a word of it.
From the day the dragons appeared, these two foolish little brothers had been pestering him to get them a dragon too. They didn't even need his three; they just wanted him to hatch one for each of them.
Just hatch one?
Daeron had practically starved himself to hatch his.
He did have dragon eggs on hand—three petrified stones with no life in them. He had only managed to hatch his three by collecting various rare materials and performing a life-or-death blood ritual. There was no way to hatch the stone eggs.
However, he had given his brothers so small consolation prizes.
Daeron looked at the wooden weapons in their hands.
> [Forest Sword (Level 3 Sword)]
> Stats: Damage 8-18, Speed 2, Defense 1.
> [Broken Trident (Level 5 Dagger)]
> Stats: 15-26 Attack, 1 Crit, 1 Crit Chance.
One was a novice weapon dropped from smashing crates in the mines, and the other was a transitional weapon found in a fishing treasure chest.
One for each brother, and they were having a blast.
Seeing that the two boys were lingering, Daeron asked, "Do you two need sothing?"
"Yeah," Jaehaerys nodded, looking distressed. "Mother is going to Dragonstone, and we have to go with her."
Viserys chid in, "Don't want to go."
Daeron asked for details and quickly pieced together the situation.
His sister-in-law, Elia, was five months pregnant. She was due in less than half a year. Queen Rhaella attached great importance to her daughter-in-law's first child and wanted to go to Dragonstone personally to care for her.
"Mother still loves Rhaegar more," Daeron thought, feeling a little slighted.
Anyone with eyes could see that Daeron's sudden rise had created a subtle rivalry with the highly respected Rhaegar. In such a sensitive period, any movent could shift the winds.
Yet, Rhaella was still going to Dragonstone.
This move was tantamount to publicly supporting her eldest son.
Daeron waved his hand. "Forget it, you two go play."
"Okay, we're going!"
Jaehaerys was sensible; having delivered the news, he dragged his little brother off to play.
Watching them walk away, Daeron instructed Barristan, "Go find Alliser Thorne later. When Mother leaves, arrange a squad of Gold Cloaks to protect her closely."
"Yes, Prince." Barristan nodded solemnly.
Internally, however, he felt Queen Rhaella was leaving at a bad ti.
Prince Rhaegar was returning to Dragonstone, and Prince Daeron's dragons were not yet fully grown. Currently, every noble in the Seven Kingdoms coveted the new hatchlings.
Setting aside whether going to Dragonstone would damage Prince Daeron's reputation, what if the Queen were detained by the Dornish as leverage?
"The Prince thinks of everything," Barristan sighed helplessly.
---
Shortly after.
Daeron received the news from Maester Harvey.
They had guessed correctly.
Three days ago, Rhaegar had returned to Dragonstone.
But what Daeron truly cared about was another piece of news from the Riverlands.
"Prince, look at this." Maester Harvey handed him a letter, speaking cautiously. "Lord Whent of Harrenhal has spread the word. He will host a grand tourney in April of the coming spring."
The Tourney at Harrenhal!
Daeron's gaze sharpened. What must co, will co.
Rhaegar was indeed funding Lord Whent to hold this tourney. He planned to use the gathering to unite the lords and execute a plan to either usurp the throne or force a regency.
According to tradition, he probably wouldn't dare to usurp directly. The most likely scenario was calling a Great Council of the lords to vote, sidelining his father Aerys and making himself "Prince Regent" to take control of the governnt.
But none of that mattered to Daeron.
What puzzled Daeron was the kidnapping. Why run off with Lyanna Stark?
Lust?
Lyanna was the sa age as Cersei—too young to match Rhaegar's usual preferences. And with the Stark family's characteristic "long face," Lyanna might be famous for her wild beauty, but she wouldn't be a peerless stunner. Besides, Elia was considered a great beauty in her own right.
Politics?
Kidnapping Lyanna directly enraged House Stark and House Baratheon, and indirectly provoked House Arryn and House Tully.
The reason House Targaryen was declining was partly due to the lack of dragons, and partly due to Father Aerys's madness. The nobles of the Seven Kingdoms were counting on Rhaegar to be a good prince. He didn't even need to be brilliant; he just needed to not be Aerys.
But pulling a stunt like that... it made it hard to believe Rhaegar was sane either.
"It can't really be for that bullshit prophecy, can it?" Daeron doubted deeply.
The prophecy said, "The dragon has three heads."
But I have three actual, living dragons right here.
If Rhaegar was really a prophecy fanatic, he should be rushing over to worship Daeron.
It was truly bizarre!
Seeing the Prince deep in thought, Maester Harvey produced a separate letter.
"Prince, this is a personal letter from Lord Whent, inviting you to et at Harrenhal."
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