After receiving Prince Viserys's tacit approval, Daeron cheerfully brought Aemon to see King Aegon.
It went very smoothly. King Aegon raised no objections, only watching as Daeron and Aemon, arms slung over each other's shoulders, returned to their respective chambers.
Only after the two boys had left did Samantha, dressed in a light silk gown, walk quietly to King Aegon's side.
"You shouldn't have allowed it, my dear," Samantha said calmly as she looked at the king. "With the two of us and Caraxes at the Dragonpit in King's Landing, we can protect them no matter whether they try to tame Syrax or Dreamfyre. But the wild dragons on Dragonstone..."
She paused, recalling the feral dragons that roamed the island. "Seasmoke and the Sheepstealer have both harmed people before. Grey Ghost... I don't think they'll be able to find Grey Ghost."
"My dear, I couldn't stop them anyway," King Aegon replied, fully aware of the situation. "None of us expected Aemon to fail in taming Caraxes. Rhaegar is also growing, and the girls need dragons too... More importantly, House Targaryen needs dragons."
"I understand." Samantha sat down on the bed, calm as ever. "Once we return to King's Landing, I'll take them to Dragonstone."
King Aegon's hand froze mid-pour as he was about to serve himself a cup of hot wine.
"They need at least one dragon to protect them," Samantha explained. "Tyraxes is not large enough. The wild dragons are cunning and skittish. They'll be wary of Candlelight because it's big, strange, and powerful. But if only Tyraxes is with them, the children won't be safe."
"I'll go too," said King Aegon after a moment of thought, taking a small sip of his wine.
"You cannot." Samantha's reply came faster than Aegon's own words. "You're the king. Your battlefield is in King's Landing. Besides, Stormcloud is a full-grown dragon too."
Samantha analyzed the situation carefully. "If Stormcloud, Candlelight, and Tyraxes are all there, then according to the Dragonstone dragon wardens' reports, the Sheepstealer will surely avoid us. Seasmoke won't want to tangle with three dragons either. As for Grey Ghost, I believe it fled the moment our dragons took to the sky from King's Landing and Driftmark."
"Very well..." Aegon thought for a moment—it made perfect sense. He replied sincerely, "Thank you, Samantha."
Samantha nodded and slowly lay down on the bed.
Time passed swiftly. With the departure of the royal family from Dragon's Nest, the frontier princedoms once again returned to peace. When they left, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemon did not accompany Viserys westward back to Oldtown. Instead, they traveled north with the King and Queen to King's Landing.
Driftmark.
Candlelight soared silently over the stormy waters and dark clouds of Blackwater Bay, circling the skies above the island.
Outside High Tide Castle, Tyraxes—who was stabled there—suddenly lifted its head.
It had caught the scent of another dragon. Not Seasmoke, who often visited Driftmark, but a different one.
Tyraxes stretched its neck, releasing a long, low roar that stirred the white castle from its slumber. The first to react was Adam, who was training with his child in the courtyard. Shortly after joining House Velaryon through marriage, he and his wife had a lively, energetic son. Fortunately, the boy bore the classic Valyrian features, which silenced the remaining claimants of House Velaryon.
Of course, this wasn't solely due to the child's Valyrian looks. Adam's and Erin's wartime feats also played a role. During House Baratheon's conquest of the Stepstones, both men performed admirably—Adam earning the title "Scourge of Pirates," while Erin was dubbed "Oakfist" for smashing enemy ships with his own flagship.
After countless battles in the Stepstones, the royal fleet had transformed into a seasoned and formidable force. As key commanders in the fleet, Adam and Erin naturally garnered strong support.
Support that extended even to several cadet branches of House Velaryon. These supporters staunchly backed Adam and his children's claim—not merely due to valor and merit.
There was also a widely circulated rumor.
That Adam and Erin were bastards of the Sea Snake. Or perhaps of Ser Laenor, the late father of Lord Joffrey.
Surprisingly, Lord Joffrey had never tried to suppress this rumor. On the contrary, his silence seemed to lend it credence. But it was precisely this ambiguous attitude—and his dragon—that ultimately prevented the rumor from taking root.
Erin had also married not long after Adam joined House Velaryon.
His bride was none other than the daughter of Ser Tom, the famed "Ironhammer", and a childhood companion of both brothers.
Now aging, Ser Tom no longer served in the blacksmith's guild or city watch of Summerfield. Instead, he lived peacefully, supported by a pension from Dragon's Nest.
"Tyraxes, what is it?" Adam asked in High Valyrian. He and his brother had learned the language from their stepfather. Though their accent was thick and imperfect, they spoke fluently.
Adam was aware of the rumors. He had asked his mother once, but she had not given a direct answer. After marrying, he even asked Lord Joffrey—who was younger than him by several years.
Joffrey didn't give a clear answer either. But Adam understood: silence was often a form of acknowledgment.
Especially when it came to the way Tyraxes treated him, and those encounters with Seasmoke when it visited Driftmark. Adam could clearly sense the dragons' friendliness toward him.
From that point on, he had more or less pieced together the truth. That was why his deep affection for his young wife—who could almost be mistaken for his daughter—was renowned across Driftmark.
Just as his strictness toward his son was equally well known.
Tyraxes continued to gaze at the sky, ignoring Adam entirely. But Adam immediately understood what was happening.
"Reg, go find your grandfather," Adam ordered his son, Reg Velaryon. "Tell him a strange dragon has arrived at Driftmark."
Meanwhile, Adam was shouting orders to the High Tide garrison training in the yard.
"Archers, ready! Scorpions, ready!"
Clearly no stranger to dragon sightings, the soldiers of High Tide moved swiftly. Even as Adam merely raised his hand, the archers were already nocking arrows, and the guards on the battlements had begun adjusting the giant scorpions upon receiving the signal.
Reg had barely taken a few steps before stopping. The boy turned around with a helpless look. "Father, grandfather is here."
Joffrey strode over to Tyraxes, laid a hand on the purple dragon's flank, and said, "Adam, don't be rash." He signaled the ready archers and scorpion crews to lower their weapons. "It's Her Majesty the Queen and Candlelight."
"What is Her Majesty doing here on High Tide?"
Adam's demeanor changed at once. He had always held House Vaelarys in the highest regard, and at the mere mention of Her Majesty the Queen, he visibly relaxed.
"Taming dragons."
Adam looked at his father-in-law with confusion. Taming? Taming what? Didn't Her Majesty already have a dragon?
"The three princes," said Joffrey, looking up at the sky with calm resolve. "The Crown Prince, Prince Aegon, and Prince Aemon are planning to tame the wild dragons on Dragonstone. They need to know whether Seasmoke is lingering on High Tide."
"She isn't. I can confirm that," Adam said firmly.
No sooner had he finished speaking than Candlelight pierced the clouds and slowly descended into the courtyard of High Tide.
Tyraxes watched as the dragon used her tendrils to slow her descent, then turned and gave his rider a tight hug.
Upon Candlelight was a three-seat saddle. Samantha sat at the front, with Prince Daeron and Prince Aemon in the rear seats.
The two princes climbed down the hanging ladder first.
"Prince Aegon didn't come?" Joffrey asked, puzzled.
Daeron looked like he was about to speak, but Aemon stopped him. "Uncle, our brother chose to select his dragon in King's Landing. Father is accompanying him."
"Oh." Joffrey nodded. He couldn't say he liked or disliked Prince Aegon. What he disliked most was Aegon's womanizing, but aside from that, the prince had few other faults.
So, in truth, he didn't really dislike the boy.
Still, the optimistic and impulsive Daeron, alongside the composed, knightly, and impeccably polite Aemon, made Joffrey silently thank the Seven that his brothers had raised such fine sons.
"You're certain about taming Sheepstealer and Seasmoke?"
Daeron nodded. "I am, Uncle. These two full-grown dragons have lived wild for far too long. They belong with the Targaryens again, and the realm needs to see that."
"Targaryens are true dragons," Aemon added, picking up the thread. "And we can tame true dragons."
"Good." Joffrey clapped his hands. "That's what I call good children of our house. Your Majesty—?"
"I will accompany them," Samantha said calmly. "Joffrey, I'd also like to invite you to come with us."
"Of course," Joffrey agreed without hesitation.
"Seasmoke is not on High Tide, Your Grace," Adam interjected at just the right moment. "She tends to dwell near the western cliffs of Dragonstone—if she doesn't come here, that's where you'll find her."
"Thank you, Adam." Samantha remembered him, much to the surprise and pleasure of the Lord Admiral of the royal fleet.
But that surprise didn't last long.
The group had no intention of lingering at High Tide. The moment they confirmed Seasmoke's absence, both dragons took flight, heading toward Dragonstone.
Their luck held.
"Mother, is that Seasmoke?"
Daeron was the first to spot the dragon, hunting stingrays in the surf. As the prince laid eyes on the magnificent beast, she seemed to smell her kin at the same moment.
"Raaaagh!"
Seasmoke dropped the ray she had just caught and let out a deafening roar. She turned to face them, ready to meet the challenge—only to realize she was up against two dragons.
Tyraxes swooped down from above. Normally, against a dragon so much smaller than herself, Seasmoke wouldn't even have to exert herself to tear his wings apart.
But this was different. Before her stood Candlelight, tendrils already unfurled.
A streak of gray flame tore through the dark blue sky. Seasmoke dodged the blast, only to be struck hard by one of Candlelight's tendrils.
Seasmoke shrieked in fury. But all she could do was beat her wings in warning and quickly put distance between herself and Candlelight.
She feared those tendrils.
But the presence of Tyraxes above made it impossible for it to focus solely on dealing with Candlelight. It let out a furious roar and turned away, flying back toward Dragonstone.
Boom.
The dragons landed—Tyraxes and Candlelight almost touching down at the same time. Daeron and Aemon wasted no time, sliding down from Candlelight's back before it had even fully settled.
"Seasmoke, we don't mean you harm."
Samantha's High Valyrian was gentle, yet everyone—even the dragons—could hear the cold steel beneath her words.
"Kin… leave or burn," Seasmoke roared, the message clear in the primal language only dragons could fully understand.
But with Candlelight present, words held little sway.
Candlelight roared back in challenge. Tyraxes stood beside it, bellowing as well, golden-red light flickering at the throat of the purple dragon.
Though smaller than both Candlelight and Seasmoke, Tyraxes was emboldened by its ally, using the moment to show its strength.
"Seasmoke, calm yourself," Samantha continued. "You need a companion. True dragons need mates."
Daeron gestured for Aemon to make the attempt.
Aemon nodded, straightened his back, and began walking forward—step by deliberate step—toward Seasmoke. His eyes met the furious dragon's, unflinching.
Fire already danced in Seasmoke's throat. It let out a short burst of flame, more warning than attack. And perhaps Seasmoke also understood: if that fire truly harmed Aemon, it wouldn't end well for it either.
So the flames passed without touching him.
"Seasmoke. Look at me."
Aemon continued forward.
At last, Seasmoke began to take him seriously.
"Roar!"
Another furious bellow shook the air.
But Aemon moved as though he hadn't heard it, coming steadily closer.
Seasmoke didn't unleash its flame. Instead, it dipped its massive head to eye level with the approaching boy.
Aemon raised his head to meet the gaze of the silver-gray dragon.
"Seasmoke," he said in High Valyrian, "do you accept me?"
Seasmoke seemed to understand. It glanced coldly at Aemon, then cast a sweeping gaze at Candlelight and Tyraxes before snorting and slowly bringing its great head close to him.
A wave of hot air hit Aemon, but he didn't flinch.
And in that moment, he thought he heard a voice—not a sound, but an intent:
What right have you to call yourself my friend?
Aemon held Seasmoke's gaze. "I am Aemon. Seasmoke, my dream is to become a true knight." Slowly, he reached out and laid his hand on the dragon's snout.
"Loyalty."
His hand moved along Seasmoke's nose, gliding gently down its side.
"Mercy."
Seasmoke remained still, its head shifting slightly to follow his touch.
"Humility. Honor. Spirit."
Aemon grabbed a rusted chain hanging from the tattered saddle still strapped to Seasmoke's back.
Dragon saddles were usually made from dragonbone, discarded scales, and the sheddings of deceased dragons—materials almost impervious to damage. But House Velaryon hadn't had access to such resources at the time, and had to settle for inferior materials.
So Seasmoke's saddle was in poor condition—but still usable.
"Justice. Honesty. Valor."
With that, Aemon grabbed the chain and vaulted onto Seasmoke's back.
The dragon's cold eyes remained locked on him. It didn't struggle. Its throat did not glow with flame.
Daeron and Joffrey both let out a breath of relief. Only Samantha kept one hand nervously pressed against Candlelight, ready to intervene if needed.
"This is my answer to you, Seasmoke."
Aemon calmly closed his eyes.
Seasmoke stared at him a moment longer, then slowly turned its head—and roared at Candlelight and Tyraxes.
Only then did Samantha smile and release Candlelight.
After nearly forty years, the magnificent silver-gray beast had returned to the Targaryen dragonflock.
Seasmoke had found its second rider.
Aemon Targaryen.
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