Archmaester Vaellyn had a permanent scowl etched on his face as he set down the letter on his desk.
It was another quiet morning here at the Citadel. Oldtown flourished just outside the walls of his study. The port city was bustling with activity as trade flowed through the harbor from faraway lands. It wouldn't be long before the halls of the Citadel were filled with activity as well, from the simplest of novices to the most experienced of the archmaesters, all going about their business.
It was a comforting environment, one that Vaellyn had long since grown used to. And yet, as he pondered over recent events, he was anything but comfortable.
The date was 265 AC, and so far it was shaping out to be another quiet and peaceful year on the continent. It was Aerys II's third year as king, and so far the young Targaryen monarch hadn't accomplished anything of note. The most impactful move for Aerys had been to dismiss the previous small council of his father and grandfather, save for the Master of Ships, and appoint new members, the most notable of which was the young Lannister heir as his Hand. The friendship between the two powerful men was still going strong, and it signaled a stable reign if it continued.
It wasn't the king that was plaguing Vaellyn's thoughts, though. No, no. It was the new heir and Prince of Dragonstone, the young Rhaegal Targaryen.
'Five years since the tourney and still nothing.'
Vaellyn had tried his best to get informants close to the young crown prince, to gauge the extent of his abilities as well as his personality. So far, it had turned out to be a more difficult endeavor than he would have liked. The Grand Maester wasn't interested in working with him, choosing to remain isolated from the Conclave. Vaellyn wasn't too surprised by this, but it was still frustrating. Pycelle had never been part of the true inner circle within the Citadel. A mistake on their part perhaps, but how could they have expected that magic would suddenly return like this? Dragons had been extinct for over a century now. The Targaryens were no different from any normal man now. They could boast about their ancestry all they wanted, but without their dragons they were no true threat. There had been no real reason to keep eyes and ears on the royal family for many years now.
Now, they were caught completely off-guard.
'It makes no sense. No Targaryen before has ever shown such abilities. And it's been centuries since they left Valyria.'
The Targaryens of today were far more mixed than the ones of old, having married into different families on the continent over the last three hundred years. So how was it that it was now that a Targaryen with the fire of old was born?
It felt like something was at work here, and Vaellyn hated the unknown. And that was all that magic was. It was an unknown. The Citadel had been established to fight that abyss, to combat the fire that was Valyria. In the end, it was their own arrogance that was their undoing. Only a small piece of their history had survived in the form of the Targaryens, and even now the Targaryens were a shadow of what they once were. Except there was a resurgence now.
'Was magic returning to the world?'
Vaellyn couldn't believe it. Magic was an affront to everything that was reasonable. It led to a dark path, to destruction. Valyria was a perfect example of this. Their magic had led to their own destruction.
There were a few select archmaesters who recognized this, which was why they had established a group centuries ago, since Aegon first conquered most of the continent, to study the dragons and find ways to combat them.
"In the end, they too destroyed themselves,' he mused to himself, remembering the most destructive civil war that Westeros had ever known.
Could this young Targaryen be heading down a similar path?
There was no way for him to know. The crown prince only kept the company of a few select people. Even maester Qyburn, who had declared that he was leaving the Citadel for the capital, had never once sent a raven detailing what finds he might have unearthed.
'What to do?'
Trying to make overt moves would be dangerous here.
'Patience is key.'
They had overcome the dragons. This young Targaryen wouldn't be any different.
In time, he too would make a mistake, and they would be ready.
---
Rhaella stared at her reflection with a melancholy look. She was preparing herself for another day at the Red Keep. Aerys had long since gotten up, the duties of a king ensuring that he couldn't sleep in anymore. Her once distracted brother had settled into his role nicely over the last three years despite how sudden the change had been.
Her father, Jaehaerys Targaryen, Second of His Name, had passed suddenly. No one had seen it coming. By all accounts, he had been looking stronger and stronger every day, helped in no small part by the new maester that had arrived from the Citadel five years ago.
Everyone had been at a loss, and even though maester Qyburn had done his best to try and keep her father alive, in the end, Jaehaerys had chosen to not prolong his end. Whether it was because he was in too much pain or for some other reason, Rhaella would never know. He just shared one final goodbye with her and the rest of the family before succumbing to his illness.
What made it worse was that her mother followed soon after, wasting away only a couple of months later. Without her husband, Shaera Targaryen had given up on life. Perhaps not too surprising, given everything that they had lost at Summerhall.
It still stung.
Without given a chance to truly process it, Rhaella found herself as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, ruling alongside her brother. Now, only four Targaryens remained at King's Landing. They were all that was left of the mighty Targaryen dynasty. Rather than wear her mother's and grandmother's crown, Rhaella had a new one fashioned for herself. It was rather modest compared to Aerys', who had chosen to don the crown of Aegon IV. It truly was a grotesque crown in her opinion, far too heavy to bring any comfort when wearing it. Yet, her brother liked it. He was never one to be subtle.
There had been other changes too, such as her friend Joanna marrying Tywin Lannister two years ago. It had brought a rather festive occasion that saw even the stern Tywin Lannister smiling for a time, a sight which many would have considered impossible after the Reyne-Tarbeck Revolt.
Her other friend and former lady-in-waiting, Loreza Martell, had taken the mantle as the Princess of Dorne after the passing of her parents. Joanna and Loreza had been her closest confidants during their time at court. The three of them had only been together for a brief time, but Rhaella counted them among her closest friends.
'All of us will rule in our way,' she thought, a bit amused at the path their lives were taking.
Loreza had sent invitations earlier this month, asking the royal family to come to Dorne for a celebration. As much as Rhaella loved her friend, she knew her true purpose for wanting her family to come to the south. As with the rest of the realm, Loreza was now playing a bigger game.
Loreza's aim was obvious. She wanted a betrothal with Rhaegal. Loreza had given birth to a daughter a couple of years before her boys were born, so there was an obvious match there.
'As if Aerys would ever agree to such a thing.'
Rhaella's hand briefly rested on her stomach, her face anxious as she thought about the one miscarriage she had had right before Joanna's wedding. Pycelle and Qyburn both suggested that she and Aerys don't try for another child too soon, as giving birth to twins at such a young age had left her in a fragile state. Thankfully, Aerys had been understanding and was willing to wait, but she knew the reason why he wanted another child so quickly despite having two sons already.
Aerys wanted a daughter so that Rhaegal could have his future queen. They had no way of knowing if Rhaegal's abilities could be passed down to his children. No records were left of how Valyrian pyromancers passed down their abilities, but Aerys believed that the odds were increased if Rhaegal married a true Valyrian bride. And he expected that from her.
There had been countless marriage offers that were sent after the tourney five years ago, mostly from the Crownlands, but Aerys had denied them all. Her brother believed that their blood didn't need to be tainted further by marrying anyone of Andal descent, worse if they were Dornish. Aerys had little tolerance for anyone who came from the southernmost kingdom, finding their Rhoynish descent distasteful. Thankfully her brother had enough sense to hide his distaste in public. The last thing they needed was to disrespect an entire kingdom for no reason.
It went without saying that there was a lot of tension in her marriage, but it wasn't a terrible one either. Aerys had stopped bedding any woman that caught his fancy and was true to his vows. He was also cordial with her. He didn't always take her words into consideration, but he didn't dismiss her outright either. Not unless it came to the succession, a fight which Rhaella had given up on. After all, King's Landing loved her Rhaegal. They had come to accept him as their future king.
Her boys were growing rather well. Best of all, they were the best of friends, mostly encouraged by Rhaegal who was the more outgoing of the two. Her Rhaegar preferred the company of tomes than to be in the public eye and was more reserved. Meanwhile, her Rhaegal was the center of attention wherever he went. He had charmed the court, and even though he had never set foot outside the Red Keep the people of King's Landing spoke favorably of her son. To them, he was a sign of the righteous rule of the Targaryens, and so they were happy to be able to be so close to their future ruler.
Her boys were nearly identical in appearance, to the point that some were only able to tell them apart due to their personality.
In personality, they were opposites, but she loved them dearly. She only prayed that their bond continued to hold as they grew older. There were enough brother versus brother conflicts in the history of her family to last a lifetime. They didn't need another one.
'Enough reminiscing for now.'
Rhaella took another look at herself in the mirror, making sure she looked proper. She then exited her room, accompanied by a member of the Kingsguard.
It was just another day at court for her.
---
Rhaegal wasn't surprised when he walked into the library of the Red Keep and saw his brother hunched over a table.
"You're going to become an old man if you waste away like this, brother."
Rhaegar didn't look up from his tome. "Brother, good morrow to you. I see you're up early today."
It was well past breakfast. They ate as a family many times, but today their father had been much too busy to take part. Something about troubles in the Disputed Lands on Essos. And so, Rhaegal had opted to have his breakfast in his room to allow his mother to sleep in for the day.
"You know that I'm always early."
"Ah, yes. You and Qyburn are always up to something, even before the sun is up."
"The old man can be very useful when it comes to developing my abilities."
"I'm sure he's not that old, brother."
"Probably not, but I enjoy the twitch of his eyebrow whenever I call him that. Pycelle too."
Here, Rhaegar sighed and looked up from his tome. "You know there's no reason to mock them."
Rhaegal waved his hand in dismissal as he walked up to the table. "Fret not, it's all in good fun. They know that."
Probably.
"What about you, brother? What are you reading this time? Something about Old Valyria again?"
"You could say that." Rhaegar glanced down at the tome. "It's truly sad that we have lost so much of our history."
"You're much too young to be speaking of regrets, you know. We're only six!"
"I developed my way of speaking from you, brother. If there's a weird one here, then it is you."
"Passing it down to the younger twin? I'm hurt."
"Somehow I doubt that."
Rhaegal had to stop himself from smiling. His brother was truly a fascinating one. While his speech and vocabulary had developed rapidly thanks to his strange birth, his brother had merely picked up on his mannerisms and ran with it. It was not an exaggeration to say that his brother was a genius. The Grand Maester said as much, praising them both during their lessons.
Rhaegar had less interest in training with the sword, and only accepted to begin training early after Rhaegal asked him about it nonstop for a week. Their parents, namely their mother, had been hesitant to allow them to start training at such a young age, but after promising to only learn the very basics, she relented.
In Westeros, martial skill was respected above all else. This was the truth of the matter. Besides, Rhaegal had a personal passion for wanting to strengthen his skill with the blade. Sure, he had his magic abilities, but he wasn't planning on using them as a crutch. The master of many was better than a master of one.
'There's also the wall that I hit recently.'
Rhaegal quickly moved on from that. "We have a rare day off from the Grand Maester's lessons today. I think it's the perfect opportunity for another tour of King's Landing. What do you think?"
Rhaegar raised an eyebrow at this. "Again? Are you in love with the city, brother?"
"It was built by our family. How can I not?"
"It's far too dirty for my tastes."
"I thought you would have gotten used to the smell by now."
"No, it's not that. The dirt is just…everywhere." Rhaegar's nose scrunched up. "I don't know how to explain it."
Too bad, Rhaegar. It seemed like you still had a long way to go before you were able to talk as eloquently as your dear brother.
"And that's exactly why these trips are important," Rhaegal insisted. "Besides, what's so good about the secret passageways if we don't use them? We can also bring Ser Barristan with us too."
Rhaegal was not suicidal. He never went out into the city without proper protection.
Sighing, Rhaegar closed his tome. "Fine. It's not like I have anything better to do."
"Of course not. I'm the only one you ever speak to."
Rhaegar's eyes narrowed. "No. I also talk to Monford."
Monford Velaryon. The only heir their father had allowed to foster at the Red Keep and be around them.
"He's two years younger than us. He doesn't count."
"He does."
"No, brother. Not when all you do is sit here and he's forced to just watch you read."
"You can make friends by reading."
"Not with the stuff you read. I'm certain that he couldn't understand half of it."
"...."
"Nothing to say, dear brother? I suppose this one goes to me."
"Just go already. I will meet you at our usual spot."
Rhaegal chuckled as he watched his brother leave in a huff. Try as he might to act older, his brother was still a child and so very easy to tease.
It was one of Rhaegal's favorite hobbies!
---
Rhaegal found Qyburn to be an interesting fellow. The man was very straightforward, and he found that refreshing in a den full of double speak.
"My prince."
The maester bowed as the two met in one of the chambers underneath the Tower of the Hand. It wasn't exactly the easiest of places to reach, but then again none of these secret passages were simple and for good reason. Maegor designed them to confuse his enemies if he ever got trapped.
Rhaegal found a certain charm to them, which was why he and Qyburn had a habit of using them all the time. This chamber in particular was his favorite because of the worn out mosaic of the three headed dragon on the floor.
The "chamber" was more like a juncture than a room in truth. It connected to several other passages that led to other parts of the castle.
There was history here. It made him wonder how many other Targaryens throughout history had ventured down here. His mother would have his head if she ever found him down here, so he never told her about it.
"Qyburn. I will be out in the city with my brother for the rest of the day. We won't be able to have our usual lessons today."
"I see. That is unfortunate."
Rhaegal smiled a little, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You don't have to say that. We both know that our lessons have hit a wall."
Qyburn was interested in his abilities and what they meant for the human body. From what they were able to gleam, Rhaegal was immune to small doses of fire. It would explain why he was never hurt when he conjured the flames.
They had never gone overboard with their tests, so Rhaegal couldn't say how far his immunity extended. If an actual dragon hit him with its flames, would he survive? What about wildfire? Could his immunity be passed to others somehow?
There were many questions, and so little answers. Rhaegal was interested in exploring the possibilities, and Qyburn was more than happy to help. At first, Rhaegal had assumed that the Citadel had sent him in order to document his findings, but Qyburn had no real attachment to the institution. They had no real appreciation for his craft, and in his words had become lazy. No new grand discoveries were being pushed, and those that tried were mocked, just as he had been.
It was this piece of information that made Rhaegal more comfortable around the maester. He was traveling down uncharted territory here. He was like a blind man walking, and any help would be appreciated. That said, he didn't want too many people knowing about his abilities until he was in a better position to defend himself.
Qyburn fit that bill pretty well. So far, he hadn't done anything that warranted suspicion. But maybe that was just because there was nothing of note to report.
It was frustrating.
"You shouldn't be so impatient, my prince," Qyburn counseled. "You are perhaps the first true Valyrian pyromancer since the Doom. Whatever records exist of their abilities will be scarce if any exist at all. Your ability to summon and command the flames might just be the first step to your abilities, but rushing things rarely breeds results."
"A maester's patience, is it?"
"Something of the sort. We spend years for mere scraps of knowledge. One of my mentors is across the Narrow Sea at this moment for such an endeavor."
How interesting.
"We know that the pyromancers of old did more than just burn with their flames," Qyburn continued. "There are many secrets that are now lost to us through time. For example, when dragons still existed, it was thought that their bond with their rider aided in the rider's health. There are examples in history of Targaryens who were strengthened by their dragons. The most famous example is King Aenys."
Yes, Rhaegal already knew about that. However, he didn't know how that helped him. Could his flames function similarly? But how?
"You have never gotten sick thus far, have you, my prince?" Qyburn questioned.
"No."
His brother Rhaegar had gotten a fever before, but never him. He always felt fine.
Rhaegal frowned. "That does not mean that I'm immune to sickness."
It could just be a coincidence that he had never gotten sick before. He was always at the Red Keep. Once he was allowed to explore more of the world, things could change.
"Of course. I'm just laying out my hypothesis. The truth is, until we can observe these phenomenons for ourselves, we can only speculate for now."
Which was the annoying part. Rhaegal was getting impatient. He had already been prepared for his plans to take some time to implement. Maybe his entire lifetime. He just never imagined that his own abilities would be a source of frustration for him too.
'Calm yourself.'
His emotions were getting the better of him again. He wasn't a child. He was better than this.
"We'll revisit this at a later date. I have to go meet with my brother."
"Of course."
Qyburn bowed his head as Rhaegal walked past him.
"Just one last thing, my prince."
Rhaegal stopped and turned to the maester.
"What we discussed before, about my research. What are your thoughts on it?"
How very direct. Qyburn never treated him like a regular child.
"Whether I think it has merit or not does not matter. I can't give you the bodies that you seek. Not yet. You're going to have to wait."
Instead of being frustrated, Qyburn just smiled in gratitude.
"As long as you give it serious thought, that's all I can ask for, my prince."
The two parted ways.
---
Barristan Selmy was a man bound by duty. Ever since he was young, he had always dreamed of the honor of knighthood. It had caused him to make several questionable choices in his life, such as sneaking into a tourney when we but a child. Leading the charge against someone dubbed "The Monstrous" might also be questionable, but it had also brought the war in the Stepstones to a quicker end.
And now, here he was, currently the knight with the most renown in the Seven Kingdoms, trailing after two young princes as they traversed the streets of King's Landing.
His two wards were dressed in plain clothes as they hid their faces with black cloaks. He too was dressed similarly, having removed his famous Kingsguard armor for a more plain outfit. He kept his sword hidden underneath his cloak, ready to cut down anyone who threatened the princes.
"It feels like we're our great-grandfather and you are our Ser Duncan the Tall, Ser Barristan," Rhaegal said cheerfully as they navigated the streets.
The two princes were heading down the Street of the Sisters, one of the main roadways in the city. There was only one reason for them to be heading down this road.
"I believe King Aegon was older when he began his journey across the Seven Kingdoms, my prince," Barristan replied with a small smile.
"I suppose that means our spirit is more formidable than his!"
"I don't know about that," Rhaegar spoke up with a shake of his head. "We have never left King's Landing before."
"All in good time, dear brother."
Barristan wasn't all too surprised by Rhaegal's response. The young prince was always on the move. Despite being so young, the heir to the throne had dreams of wanting to travel all across the continent, to see the lands that would one day call him king with his own eyes. The enthusiasm was infectious, but it had to be tempered with caution. Barristan was already taking enough liberties by allowing the two princes the chance to explore the city like this, without the king and queen knowing about it too!
'The prince is far too convincing at times,' he thought to himself, somewhat amused.
They continued on their small journey as the two princes took in the sights. It was another normal day in the city, and by that Barristan meant that it was full of activity.
"There are so many people." Rhaegar peeked out from underneath his hood as they continued walking, careful to conceal his hair. He and his brother had the traditional Targaryen look to them, so it wouldn't take much for someone to recognize them as royalty.
For a boy who was always at the Red Keep, seeing the massive populace of the city was always a little shocking.
"One day, they will be my subjects," Rhaegal said. "For that reason, I have to get to know what their problems are a little better."
"Like what?" Rhaegar asked with a tilt of his head.
"The city. It's a mess, brother, and I'm not talking about just the smell. Unlike Oldtown or Lannisport, King's Landing was never allowed to grow properly. When the city was first established, there was a massive migration of people who rushed to the area. Because of that, there is hardly any order in the streets or its design!"
Barristan was always amazed by Rhaegal's mind. He spoke like a man grown already.
"I remember reading about that." Rhaegar hummed in agreement to his brother's words. He too had a keen mind, just like his brother. Barristan saw a great future in house Targaryen with the two princes in charge.
"What would be your solution then, my prince?" Barristan felt the need to ask, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Rhaegal didn't need to hesitate with his answer. "Expand the city. Tear down the walls and build new ones so that it's more formidable. Right now King's Landing only covers the north shore of the Blackwater Rush. There is a lot more land that we could be using. It would make defending it more tricky, but that's where the new walls would come in. And I'm not talking about the walls we have now. We need far more impressive ones, ones sturdy enough that could only be brought down by dragon fire."
That was…ambitious.
And costly.
"It would take a long time to implement such a plan, my prince."
"I know. We don't have the gold for it right now. Thankfully there have been changes on Dragonstone that could help our taxes be more accurate."
Two years ago, when the crown prince had turned four, he had asked the king if he could receive the taxes from Dragonstone and its vassals as part of his allowance, citing his status as the new Prince of Dragonstone. King Aerys hadn't objected, but then again when it came to Rhaegal the king rarely objected to anything. He was a doting father and unless it involved direct danger he was willing to go along with whatever Rhaegal asked of him.
Now, it was maester Qyburn who served as the castellan of Dragonstone thanks to his friendship with the crown prince. The two were close, and for reasons Barristan could not understand the crown prince was quite taken by the man. The man was definitely skillful in what he did, and he had a keen mind. But was that enough to earn the young prince's favor?
Barristan didn't question it too much. It wasn't his place. He was just here to serve as the faithful shadow of the two princes.
Their walk soon had them coming upon the Dragonpit, or what remained of it. It sat atop Rhaneys' Hill, and it was a sight to behold. Barristan could only imagine what it would have looked like when it was still active.
'All those dragons.'
Barristan had seen the dragon skulls that decorated the Great Hall in the Red Keep. As with previous kings, Aerys liked to be surrounded by them. They were daunting to look at. In real life they probably would have rooted men in place, trapped by their fear. In front of a dragon, you could be the most skillful of knights. It would mean nothing in the end.
"It's always so beautiful and so sad," Rhaegar said softly as he gazed at the ruins in the distance. They never got too close. That would be far too dangerous.
"It's a lesson, brother," Rhaegal said with a shake of his head. "Our ancestors made some foolish mistakes, and we cannot afford to repeat them."
"You mean the dragons?"
"Yes, that's part of it. No dragon should have ever left our house. It just invites rivals that are not needed. We also should never allow the other houses to interfere with matters of our house. King Viserys allowed himself to be dictated by those around him, and as a king that is unacceptable. You must have your own mind, your own ideals. Otherwise you will be ruled by those that are meant to serve you. But you also cannot ignore the people. They have the capacity to rise up, and they outnumber us. Once they realize this, then everything comes crumbling down. They showed that pretty well when they killed dragons after their paranoia got the best of them."
Rhaegar listened intently to his brother's words, but this was a common sight between the two of them. Rhaegal spoke, and Rhaegar listened. Despite being the older twin, Rhaegar did not seem to have any reservations with following his brother's lead. There was a trust there that had been built from the moment that they had shared a womb, or so the many poets in King's Landing liked to say.
Barristan didn't fully understand it. He was just happy to see the friendship blossoming between the two princes.
"Brother, do you think that dragons will ever return?" Rhaegar wondered as he looked back at the Dragonpit.
"Who can say?" Rhaegal's gaze was focused on the Dragonpit as well. "There are no dragon eggs left. We would have to find one for ourselves first, if any still exist."
There was a moment's silence. Then, Rhaegar declared, "I think that they will."
Rhaegal smiled at his twin. "What makes you say that?"
"Because of you."
It was an honest answer, and Rhaegal was struck silent for a couple of moments.
Then he smiled again. "I suppose I will have to live up to your expectations then, won't I?"
"Of course. I want to ride a dragon too, you know."
"I should have known that your motives weren't so pure."
"Hey, I'm still your brother."
The two shared a quick laugh while Barristan watched over them in silence. He too was smiling as the brothers shared a moment of friendship between them.
Yes, it was just another normal day at King's Landing.