Game of Thrones: The King of Bronze and Fire

About a quarter-hour later...

In a secluded corner of the banquet hall, two silver-haired boys sat across from each other.

Aemon wore a mischievous grin as he picked up a blueberry and stuffed half of it into little Aegon's mouth. Then, with devilish precision, he smeared the other half, now covered in saliva, all over Aegon's chubby face.

By the time the plate of blueberries was empty, Aegon's belly was swollen, and his face and mouth were stained a deep blue.

"Prince, the Queen will be furious if she sees this," a plump maid nearby said, on the verge of tears.

"Don't worry, Alicent can scold me all she wants," Aemon replied nonchalantly. He wasn't the least bit worried.

This was just the warm-up.

"Boo-hoo~~"

Aegon swayed his head, his attempts to refuse punctuated with stammered cries, "No... more... brother!"

"You can talk?"

Aemon was taken aback, and the fact that Aegon was speaking High Valyrian made it all the more surprising.

Could it be that his constant chatter had inadvertently sped up the little one's learning?

"Mhm." Aegon nodded furiously, completely surrendering.

Satisfied, Aemon set aside the remaining blueberries and burst into laughter. Now, that's the power of an older brother!

Not only had he gotten his revenge, but he'd also indirectly taught the future Green King how to speak.

"Little guy, you're doing great! Look at you, learning so fast," Aemon teased, his mind briefly drifting to memories of his own early years.

He recalled the time he'd spent with his great-grandfather, Jaehaerys, and Alicent, both of whom had taught him the High Valyrian language.

High Valyrian's concise structure had always fascinated him; it shared a simplicity akin to certain elements of the Chinese language he once knew.

"I'm so proud of myself," Aemon muttered, crossing his arms in mock arrogance.

Even Alicent would have to thank him now.

"Checkmate, little future king!"

But just as Aemon was relishing his victory, a familiar voice cut through his thoughts.

"Aemon, what are you doing?"

Alicent appeared out of nowhere, followed by a gasp of horror. "Aegon! What happened to him?"

Aemon froze, his smug grin vanishing instantly.

Alicent hurried over and scooped up her son. Her initial shock turned to exasperated amusement as she saw the blueberry-stained face. "Aemon, what is this? Why would you torment him like that?"

She dabbed at Aegon's face with a handkerchief, only for the stains to smear further.

Little Aegon flailed dramatically in her arms, tears streaming as he called out, "Mama~~"

"You can talk?" Alicent blinked in astonishment.

Aegon: ...

"Well, this is unexpected," Alicent remarked, her voice softening as she processed what had just occurred. "It seems Aegon benefits from spending more time with other children after all."

Her tone shifted to one of wry humor as she glanced at Aemon. "Thank you, Aemon."

Aemon awkwardly scratched his head, his guilty smile reminiscent of a cat caught stealing fish. "You're welcome..."

With a resigned sigh, Alicent carried Aegon off to clean him up. But as she left, she cast a lingering, unreadable glance back at Aemon before hastening her pace.

Aemon waved them off, a sense of relief washing over him.

However, the faint sound of light footsteps behind him quickly drew his attention.

Turning around, he saw none other than Rhaenyra. She was standing there, her expression tinged with melancholy.

Before he could greet her, she forced a small smile. "Was it fun, tormenting Aegon?"

She must have been brought back from the Red Keep's godswood, where Alicent had found her.

"You seem upset," Aemon said, tilting his head, his large violet eyes filled with concern.

Rhaenyra stiffened at the observation, shaking her head vehemently. "I'm not!"

"Uh-huh~"

Aemon squinted at her, his expression saying, You can't fool me.

The words "I'm not happy" were practically written on her face.

Under his gaze, Rhaenyra fidgeted uncomfortably, eventually finding an excuse. "Fine. There weren't any cakes I liked at the banquet."

"Oh, I see." Aemon nodded, deciding not to press her further.

He could tell that wasn't the real reason—her transparent denial only confirmed it.

It wasn't hard to guess why she was upset. The grand celebration for Aegon's name day, filled with nobles fawning over the infant, had likely made her feel overshadowed and neglected as the Iron Throne's heir.

"Hey, remember your promise from yesterday?"

Changing the subject, Aemon smiled warmly. "Since the banquet didn't have your favorite cake, how about we visit the Dragonpit instead?"

For now, he could set aside any tension between Alicent and Rhaenyra. His top priority was farming some magic essence.

Rhaenyra glanced around, noting that no one seemed eager to engage her in conversation. With a shrug of resignation, she said, "Fine. Let's go. I could use the distraction."

"Alright, let's roll!"

Aemon cheered, leading the way.

No one noticed as the two slipped out of the banquet, and they soon reached the castle courtyard.

As the gates opened, revealing the streets beyond the Red Keep, Rhaenyra hesitated. "I didn't summon Criston. How are we supposed to get there?"

Given how bustling the day was, even finding a carriage driver seemed impossible.

"No worries, I've got it covered."

Aemon puffed out his chest confidently.

Right on cue, Ser Steffon arrived in a pristine white carriage, parking it neatly by the gate.

"See?" Aemon grinned smugly.

Rhaenyra blinked in surprise, then chuckled. For such a little boy, he sure knows how to get things done.

Ser Steffon, ever dutiful, lifted the tiny prince into the carriage with care before assisting the princess.

Of course, they weren't traveling alone.

The three-man guard squad, pulled from their banquet indulgence, followed on horseback behind the carriage.

On the Road

The carriage gently rocked as it made its way through the cobbled streets.

Inside, Aemon and Rhaenyra sat opposite each other, both quiet and lost in thought.

Beside Aemon, his loyal companion William tended to the prince's treasured satchel.

Click!

Aemon opened his incubation vessel, removing the lid to check on his dragon egg.

A puff of warm vapor escaped as the black dragon egg, still intact, revealed itself.

"Detected a magical object. +3 Magic Essence obtained."

Aemon sighed lightly, collecting his tri-daily "harvest" before securing the lid again.

The egg remained dormant, showing no signs of hatching.

Even if it did, a hatchling dragon wouldn't be much help during the chaos of the Dance of Dragons.

"Looks like I'll need to find another way," Aemon thought, his mind already spinning with possibilities.

He stayed silent, which only deepened Rhaenyra's already somber mood.

"Cough, cough."

William cleared his throat awkwardly, stealing a glance at the princess. In a whisper, he said, "Prince, I'm going to... uh, practice driving the carriage."

Before anyone could respond, he slipped out of the door with remarkable speed.

Aemon pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. "Coward."

Rhaenyra, now slightly amused, offered a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry, I spaced out again."

"It's fine. I was organizing my things anyway."

Aemon replied casually, his hands carefully stowing away the heavy incubation vessel.

For now, he would focus on the task ahead. The Dragonpit awaited, and with it, the promise of magic essence.

"Finally, some real treasure hunting."

As the carriage rolled to a stop, Ser Steffon's voice came from outside. "Your Highnesses, we've arrived at the Dragonpit."

"Thank you."

Rhaenyra tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

It was time.