Dragon's flame

The great hall of High Tide was thick with tension, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken accusations and unrelenting anger. The children, bruised and bloodied, huddled together, their faces streaked with dirt and tears. Aemond stood apart from the group, clutching a blood-soaked cloth to his ruined eye. Despite the pain etched across his features, his posture was resolute, defiant. Behind him, Alicent Hightower loomed like a storm, her face a mask of barely contained fury.

Aelyx stood to the side, distant from either faction. A bloodied bandage wrapped around his hand, still seeping crimson, was evidence of his own role in the chaos. His face betrayed no allegiance, only a calm that felt both unnerving and deliberate.

The adults arrived quickly, summoned by the commotion. King Viserys hobbled forward, his labored breath audible in the uneasy silence. His weary eyes scanned the scene, lingering on the blood and bruises that marred his grandchildren. Behind him, Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen followed, their expressions flickering between outrage and worry.

Rhaenyra entered last, her face pale as her gaze darted between her sons. Her breath hitched when she spotted their injuries. Moments later, Daenerys stormed into the hall, her fury evident in the sharpness of her stride. Her eyes immediately found Aelyx, and without hesitation, she crossed the room, gripping her husband's injured hand. Her glare shifted to Aemond, Jacerys, and Lucerys with the ferocity of a dragon about to strike.

"What is the meaning of this?" Viserys demanded, his voice breaking the oppressive silence. The king's tone carried more exhaustion than authority, but the room still flinched at the sound.

Baela stepped forward, trembling with barely restrained anger. "He stole Sheepstealer!" she shouted, pointing a shaking finger at Aemond. "That was my mother's dragon! He took her without permission!"

Aemond straightened, wincing as the movement tugged at his injury. His voice was cold and steady as he replied, "I claimed her. It is not theft. A dragon does not belong to one who cannot protect it. Sheepstealer is mine now."

Aelyx let out a quiet, sardonic chuckle, his smirk deepening. Alicent turned to her son, her hand gripping his shoulder protectively, her voice low and furious. "You could have been killed, Aemond! Do you understand the risk you took?"

Aemond didn't waver. "And yet, I succeeded," he replied, his single visible eye blazing with conviction. "I have a dragon. A dragon larger than any of them could ever dream of having. No one will dare question my worth now."

Alicent's lips tightened into a thin line, but before she could retort, her gaze snapped to Rhaenyra. "And where was their father while this was happening?" she spat, gesturing toward Jacerys and Lucerys.

Rhaenyra's voice was calm but laced with steel. "I do not know. I was unable to sleep and went for a walk."

"Perhaps entertaining his squires," Alicent sneered, her words dripping with venom.

Corlys' eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as he glared at Alicent. The insult hung in the air, daring anyone to challenge it.

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension. "How did my son come to be cut?" she demanded, her gaze shifting to Viserys.

Viserys turned to Aelyx, his brow furrowed. "Tell me what happened," he said, his tone carrying a hint of desperation.

Aelyx sighed, his gaze sweeping the room. He began to recount the events that had unfolded, his voice calm but carrying a weight that silenced the room. As he finished, his gaze rested on the children. "I separated you. Why did you start fighting again?"

The children exchanged uneasy glances until Jacerys finally spoke, his voice steady despite his fear. "He called us bastards," he said, the words slicing through the room like a blade.

Gasps rippled through the hall. The accusation was a whispered truth finally dragged into the light. Rhaenyra's jaw tightened, her hands curling into fists.

"My sons are to inherit the Iron Throne," she said, her voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "This is treason of the highest order. Aemond must be interrogated. I demand to know where he heard such slander!"

Viserys turned to Aemond, his face dark with anger. "Where did you hear this?" he thundered.

Aemond hesitated before finally replying. "It was Aegon."

All eyes turned to Aegon, who looked momentarily taken aback before lifting his chin defiantly. "No one told me," he said. "Everyone knows. Just look at them."

Silence descended over the room. Aelyx and Daenerys exchanged weary glances, their expressions grim.

Viserys' voice, trembling with rage, broke the quiet. "If I hear this slander spoken again, I will have the offender's tongue!"

Alicent's fury flared once more. "They attacked my son!" she shouted. "They ambushed him with a dagger. They intended to kill him!"

Rhaenyra's voice rose to match hers. "They defended their honor! He provoked them with vile lies!"

"That does not justify maiming him!" Alicent snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut. She turned to Viserys. "Your Grace, Lucerys must be punished!"

Viserys raised his hand weakly. "Enough," he said, though his tone lacked conviction. "This family tears itself apart over petty grievances. It must end now."

Alicent's face twisted with disbelief. "End? My son has lost an eye! Justice must be done!"

Viserys hesitated, his exhaustion evident. "And yet, Aemond spoke a grievous insult. He will not go unscathed."

Before Alicent could protest further, Aemond interrupted. "It was a fair trade," he said, his voice calm and resolute. "I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

The room fell silent, his words landing like a thunderclap. Alicent faltered, her son's boldness both terrifying and impressive. Otto's face betrayed a flicker of pride, while Daemon appeared both intrigued and wary.

Aelyx stepped forward, a wide smile spreading across his face. He knelt before Aemond, meeting his gaze. "Look into my eyes. What do you see?"

Aemond hesitated, then replied, "Darkness."

Aelyx's smile widened. He patted Aemond's head and straightened. "If you are willing," he said, his voice loud enough to carry, "I will train you in the arts of dragon-riding. molding Sheepstealer into a true dragon of war."

The room erupted into gasps. Rhaenyra's eyes burned with fury, but when she met Daenerys' cold glare, she held her tongue. Daemon's expression hardened, his unease evident.

Alicent, ignoring Otto's silent plea to stop, gripped Viserys' dagger and lunged for Lucerys, her voice trembling with rage. "If the king will not deliver justice, I will. An eye for an eye!"

Chaos erupted. Rhaenyra intercepted her, their bodies colliding as Alicent's blade was deflected. Cole moved to protect Alicent but was blocked by Daemon. Aelyx caught Alicent's wrist mid-swing, prying the dagger from her grasp and tossing it aside.

"Do you see?" Rhaenyra hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "Do you see who threatens this family?"

"For the love of the gods, be silent, sister!" Daenerys roared, his tone cutting through the chaos like a whip.

Aelyx glared at the room, his voice calm but sharp as a blade. "Egotistical fools," he said loud enough for all to hear.

With that, Daenerys and Aelyx stormed out, their cold glares cast toward Viserys as if warning him that his inaction had doomed them all.

The hall descended into pandemonium, the divisions within the family laid bare.

Viserys slammed his cane into the floor. "Enough!" he roared, his frail voice cracking with strain. "We are family. This ends now!"

Rhaenyra exited the room, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions. She couldn't discern if she had emerged victorious or suffered a loss. Her father had stood by her, defending her sons and reinforcing her position. Yet, Aemond had claimed Sheepstealer, the third-largest dragon alive, a feat that shifted the balance of power. To make matters worse, Aelyx Targaryen, a dragonrider of unparalleled skill, had vowed to train Aemond in the deadly art of dragon-riding.

Aelyx Targaryen was a name spoken with both awe and trepidation across the Seven Kingdoms. He was not merely a dragonrider—he was a legend in the making, perhaps even surpassing Daemon Targaryen in skill and ferocity. At the tender age of ten, he had achieved what many seasoned warriors never could. He had slain a wild dragon , annihilated enemy fleets with merciless dragonfire, and carved his name into history with unmatched valor. His reputation was a towering shadow, and now, with Aemond under his tutelage, the stakes for House Targaryen had never been higher.

the storm raged outside, it was clear that. the seeds of war had been sown