King's Landing hadn't seen so much activity since before the start of the War of the Ninepenny Kings, and even then the young Tywin doubted that the city had been this full.
"It feels like every house in the realm rode out to the city," Tygett, his younger brother, murmured as he rode by his left.
Kevan rode to his right, and he too looked to be captivated by the sight before them.
The streets of King's Landing were packed. Horses, wagons, people. They were everywhere. The city itself quaked with all the movement that coursed through it. Trying to navigate through the streets like this while on horse was going to be difficult, especially since his father had chosen to ride in his carriage rather than come on horse like the rest of them.
'As if I should have expected anything different.' Tywin sneered in his mind, trying to picture his oversized father riding a horse. The man hadn't ridden in years. It was part of the reason why he had decided to remain at Casterly Rock during the war with his mistresses rather than join Tywin and his brothers.
Somewhere, deep in his heart, he knew that he loved his father. The man had a good heart. If only he wasn't so foolish. It had caused their own bannermen to disregard them, to forget their place. Even now, the red lion thought itself equal to the gold. It was insulting.
Anger rushed through Tywin again, but he steeled his mind. Now wasn't the time for such thoughts. He had already prepared everything for his return to Casterly Rock. After the tourney was concluded, ravens would be sent to every single house that owed the Lannisters.
'A Lannister always pays his debts.'
He was determined to fix his father's foolishness once and for all.
For now, Tywin shelved that topic. After being away from the city for over a year, he was finally back in King's Landing, only now a new king was in charge.
"Do you really think the new prince is a pyromancer?" Tygett asked, excitement dripping from his voice. Unlike Tywin and Kevan, Tygett wasn't one to mask his emotions very well.
"We shall soon know of it," Kevan replied diplomatically.
Tywin silently agreed. That said, he already suspected the truth of the matter. As he had anticipated, in the weeks leading to their arrival, Aerys had sent several letters to him, all raving about his new son and heir. This was despite the fact that prince Rhaegal had supposedly been born second. Aerys was going to circumvent tradition and name the second twin as his heir, which meant that prince Rhaegal was now second in line to the throne.
What an interesting time this was. Not since the Dance of the Dragons had such a thing occurred. That said, this fact was going to be much easier for the lords of the realm to swallow. It wasn't like prince Rhaegal had been born a woman. That, and if tales of his abilities were true, then the realm would have no problem falling in line.
Only fools would try to argue otherwise.
The Lannisters rode in silence as they tried to traverse the packed streets without incident. Thanks to Tywin's friendship with Aerys, they had been granted rooms at the Red Keep for the duration of their stay. It was an honor that had probably only been extended to Steffon.
It took them far longer than Tywin would have liked to reach the entrance to the castle. After a quick deliberation to announce their presence, which was followed by a tedious inspection, they were allowed passage. There was no grand welcoming party to greet them, but Tywin hadn't expected one. The king was probably much too busy to come and greet them in person. And besides, it wasn't like they had been personally summoned nor had they sent anyone to announce their arrival.
"Such a long journey!" Tytos Lannister's voice was as boisterous as his body. He exited the carriage and was followed by his only daughter, Genna Lannister.
The sight of his sister always made Tywin's heart burn hot in anger. His father had battered her hand away to the damn Freys, as if they were worth the blood of a Lannister, least of all his sister. Unfortunately, his opposition to the match had gone unheard, and the marriage had gone through. Now, his sister found more comfort in food and wine.
"It's been far too long since I've seen the city. I cannot believe how busy it has become!"
"They're all here to see the new prince, father," Genna said. "I'm sure everyone wants to know whether the king's claims are true or not."
"It's the only way anyone could stomach the smell of this place," Tygett complained. "By the Seven, it gets worse every time!"
"That's enough of you," Tywin snapped at his brother. "We are not going to make fools of ourselves in front of the royal family."
Genna rolled her eyes. "You should calm yourself, brother. I'm sure Prince Aerys won't mind us talking about the smell too much. Even he must agree."
"No, no. We must remain courteous when speaking to the king and the crown prince!" their father exclaimed. "We are but their loyal subjects and friends! We can't have them losing favor with us."
Tywin bit back his anger again at his father's words. There was no need to grovel in such a way. They were Lannisters.
No, there was no point. The man was never going to change.
It took them a few minutes to unload all of their belongings from the carriage and carry them inside with the help of the servants that had been assigned to guide them. They were going to be staying in the royal apartments.
How amiable of Aerys to arrange that for them. Tywin was pleased.
It wasn't long after they had entered the keep that Tywin was ambushed by his other friend, Steffon.
"There you are!" The young Baratheon engulfed him in an energetic hug, disregarding decorum, which Tywin returned with his usual grace. "I was wondering how long it was going to take you to make it!"
"It's not as though we are late, my lord."
Steffon stepped back and scoffed. "Yeah, but I was expecting you to be more curious about Aerys' son and rush here. You have heard what they're saying, right? And don't call me that. I might be a Lord Paramount now, but I'm still your friend."
Ignoring that last part, there was no way Tywin wouldn't know. Even the peasants were aware of what was being said. Tywin wouldn't be surprised if the bards invented a new song by the time the tourney was over.
"If what the king says is true, then Targaryen power in the kingdoms will swell again."
Steffon was in agreement with Tywin's assessment.
"Have you met the young prince yet?" Tywin asked.
"Yes, but I haven't seen him display any of his abilities. Apparently Aerys wants me to be in awe with everyone else when he reveals it for the first time. It's not like I expect him to start shooting fire every time I see him. Just once would suffice."
Aerys has always been one for the dramatics.
Something was troubling Tywin. "The prince is merely a year old. How is he to display his powers before the realm?"
Steffon shrugged again. "I don't know. Aerys seems to think that the young prince is more attentive than the average baby. He wouldn't say too much about it, just that his son was special."
How curious. Tywin had suspected as much, but his friend seemed to be quite taken by his son. But that should be obvious.
"Whatever the truth of it, I shall ask Aerys the next time I see him."
"I'll inform him that you've arrived. I'm sure he'll want you to dine with the king tonight."
Nothing would please Tywin more.
---
Grand Maester Pycelle locked eyes with the man who stood before him. They were in his workspace which was adjoined to his chambers. Nearby, noises from the rookery filtered in every so often.
"Maester Qyburn. I did not expect to find you before me on this day."
The man tilted his head in kind. "Grand Maester. Forgive my intrusion. I know that no raven was sent to inform you of my arrival. I left the Citadel before I had the chance."
"And what brings you to King's Landing?"
"What has brought the rest of the realm of course. Prince Rhaegal."
"Why would the young prince interest you?"
"I find myself fascinated by tales of his abilities. I am here to confirm them with my own eyes."
Pycelle frowned. "To what end?"
"I want to better understand the human body, Grand Maester. If the young prince is able to wield flames and be unharmed by them, I want to discover the source of this phenomenon."
"Maester Qyburn, we are men of learning and science. These…talks of magic hold no sway over our craft. I know that you follow in Archmaester Marwyn's footsteps, and I assure you that the prince's abilities have nothing to do with the art of healing."
"With all due respect, Grand Maester, I would like to confirm these theories for myself. I have approached you out of respect for your position, but I do not mind making my case before the king. I hear that the maester of Dragonstone might soon pass. I'm sure I can take up the position if need be."
"You overstep your boundaries."
Pycelle did not like open confrontations. They were too messy, but he could not ignore the disrespect that was being shown to him at this moment.
"I merely state my intentions, Grand Maester. I have no desire to make an enemy out of you."
Somehow, Pycelle doubted that very much. But so be it. While others tried to take the spotlight for themselves, he was more than happy to just sit back and exist.
"You may do as you wish, but I will not offer you any support."
"I appreciate your understanding, Grand Maester."
---
Rhaegal found himself stuffed into some fancy clothes adorned with the Targaryen sigil as he sat with his father during dinner that evening. His only reprieve was that Rhaegar was forced to wear similar clothes too, but his brother was more concerned with the food around them than anything else.
Now that they were one, the twins were able to have solid foods and dine with the rest of the adults. It was one of the greatest gifts that Rhaegal had found in his life thus far. It tasted much better than having milk from the wet nurses. It just felt…odd to him, and Rhaegal could not fully understand it.
It was probably because of his mind. Was he a man stuck in a baby's body? Or was he something else entirely?
Wait, his mother had a plate of lamb. He needed some of that!
While he enjoyed himself, Rhaegal only partially listened in to the conversations around him. The royal family was dining with the Lannisters this evening. The young Baratheon Lord was here too, but he had been a common presence for a few days now.
Supposedly the heir to Casterly Rock was best friends with his father, but that just made Rhaegal confused. In his visions, he had seen a man with blond hair strike his father from behind, ending his life. He had concluded that it was probably a Lannister, as they were the most famous house with blond hair. But if his father was good friends with the heir, then how could that be?
There were many reasons that could still explain that future, or maybe he was wrong and it was someone from a different house.
So many questions, but for tonight Rhaegal just enjoyed himself. He was still too limited to do anything of note. He could only bide his time.
The next few days passed by a blur. He was distinctly aware that his father had declared him as his new heir as opposed to his brother. This had the possibility of spiraling into a bigger issue in the future, but as with everything else there was little for him to do about it at the moment. Did he want to sit on the Iron Throne one day? Not particularly. After his birth, he had resigned himself to let his brother become king while he remained the spare.
His father had changed that, and so now Rhaegal was forced to change his thinking. He would not fight the new succession. He would make it work to his advantage. For as much as he had no real interest for the throne, he was not going to run away from it either. He had overheard his grandfather and father speaking of the prophecy of the promised prince on occasion, and there were times Rhaegal wondered if the prophecy was meant for him. Ever since Aegon the Conqueror first established the Iron Throne, the prophecy had plagued the Targaryens like some kind of curse.
Was he that prince?
Was the prophecy why he was different from his brother?
Ultimately, it did not matter. Not because he didn't want to know, but because he couldn't. There was no one here who could answer his questions. Besides, he wasn't going to put his faith in some prophecy. Actions mattered more than faith. Regardless of whether or not he was some prophesied hero, Rhaegal believed that his actions were his alone. He was not going to let someone else dictate his path in life.
More and more lords arrived at the capital as the days dragged on, and his grandfather was forced to tighten security. The City Watch was stretched to its limits during this time, which gave Rhaegal some ideas about some of his future reforms.
The day of the tourney arrived at last, and as expected Rhaegal and Rhaegar were given prime view of the event as they sat at the royal box with the rest of the royal family.
His grandmother sat with the grace befitting a queen while his mother had the air of the proper princess that she was.
There were many faces in the crowd, far too many to keep track of. Rhaegal was positive that everyone of note in the Seven Kingdoms had come, from Dorne to the North. It appeared as though his presence had been enough of an incentive to draw all these lords here.
How lucky for him.
As was customary, his grandfather opened the event by giving a speech.
"Lords and ladies of the realm! I welcome you to King's Landing. We stand here today not only to celebrate the death of the last of the Blackfyres but to also formally celebrate the first name day of Prince Rhaegal and Prince Rhaegar!"
Rhaegal hadn't heard about that last part. Just another excuse to enjoy a tourney he supposed.
Predictably, the crowd erupted into cheers as the Targaryen banners fluttered in the wind.
Rhaegal had to admire his grandfather for projecting his voice despite his weak body as the man continued.
"There is more cause for celebration! On this day, I bring news that will strengthen the realm in years to come! For Prince Rhaegal has been born with the blood of Old Valyria itself! Stronger than any Targaryen before him!"
Such a bold claim. His grandfather was laying it on thick, but Rhaegal understood why.
His father rose, bringing him along as he came to stand next to Jaehaerys.
"Behold! The blood of the dragon!"
No one had explained anything to him. His grandfather merely looked at him, his face expectant. Rhaegal could feel the eyes from the Seven Kingdoms trained on him as his father held him forward.
If he had been a mere babe, then this would have been embarrassing for them. But they already knew that he was not. He had proven himself adept at understanding. They were placing their hopes on him, and Rhaegal would never betray that hope.
And so, with that silent determination, Rhaegal mustered what strength he could in his tiny body to raise his hands forward. He had been practicing on his lonesome for this moment, for the first word that he would utter in this life of his. It was the most fitting word that he could think of, even if it might break his mother's heart a little if she ever found out.
Rhaegal only managed a whisper, and it was only heard by his father and grandfather.
It was enough.
"Dracarys."
Bright and powerful flames burst from his palms, consuming the air before him. Unlike on Dragonstone, Rhaegal did not restrain himself this time. He was here to send a message to the Seven Kingdoms. The house of the dragon was still strong.
So he let the flames burn brightly. It truly was like a dragon's fiery breath, except that he was the one responsible for it.
And the eyes of the Seven Kingdoms were his witnesses.
He could almost taste the disbelief in the air, the shock. Up until this moment, there had been some that had doubted the king's words. Some had been ready to secretly mock the Targaryens for trying to spin a silly tale.
That attitude died the moment the flames burned.
It would be a day that would be talked about for years to come.
A new song would emerge, spreading from village to village. From the Vale to the Iron Islands, from Dorne to the North.
It was titled Rhaegal Targaryen: The Living Dragon.