Chapter 2: The First Cry of a Young Dragon
260 AC, King's Landing — The Red Keep
The Red Keep moved with its usual rhythm: armored guards pacing the corridors, servants quietly tending their duties, and nobles drifting in and out of the halls. But the birth of Prince Rhaegar did little to ease the sorrow that hung over the castle. The tragedy of Summer Hall still clung to everyone's hearts like a dense, unyielding fog.
The losses had been staggering: the Old King Aegon V, Ser Duncan the Tall, and numerous loyal Dragon family members had perished, alongside countless vassals and warriors. Too few dragons were just as dangerous as too many; their absence now deepened the Targaryen succession crisis.
Everyone watched over the infant prince with anxious care. The realm was far from safe: the Ninepenny King's ambitions threatened to spark war across the Narrow Sea, and the Blackfyre pretenders still coveted the Iron Throne. The infant Rhaegar, however, seemed unfazed by the weight of the world.
Cradled in his nursemaid's arms, he watched the warriors sparring on the training grounds. The sweat flying from their brows, the arcs of spears, the shouts of exertion—all of it fascinated him. Even at such a young age, the boy's bright indigo eyes burned with curiosity and intensity.
Silver hair crowned his head, and his features reflected the nobility of the Dragonlords. Servants clicked their tongues in wonder, murmuring at his beauty. But Rhaegar's eyes were drawn not to toys or lullabies—they were drawn to combat, to movement, to strength.
He had a natural affinity for warriors, for battle itself. Watching them increased his understanding, sharpened his mind, and strengthened him in ways no ordinary infant could comprehend. Unseen by others, a small panel hovered in his mind: the Tree of Life, a network of growth and potential.
[Rhaegar Targaryen]
Identity: The Last Dragonlord
Aptitude: Knightly Talent (Born Warrior), Sword Heart and Zither Soul (Balance of Combat and Art), Sleeping Dragon (Giant Dragon not yet awakened)
Charm: Adorable Dragonlord Baby
Achievement: Warrior (Little Warrior, has observed many duels, slightly improving combat aptitude)
Collection: None
Time was precious. He would maximize every opportunity to grow, to awaken, to eventually find a way to hatch the dragon eggs. Until then, he would bide his time, waiting for the return of magic and the rise of dragons.
Watching the duel intently… Warrior Attribute increased. Rhaegar felt a quiet satisfaction in the allocation of points.
A White Knight approached, speaking to the nursemaid. "The wind is strong outside, and His Grace, the King, wishes to see the Prince."
The current king was Jaehaerys II, Rhaegar's grandfather. Unlike his predecessors, he had aged prematurely, the grief of Summer Hall etched into his frail frame. Pale and worn, with shoulder-length hair and soft purple eyes, he resembled a scholar more than a warrior.
Rhaegar was lifted into his grandfather's arms, and the King's gaze softened. "You shall rekindle the people's love for the Dragonlords, my grandson. You will be the true dragon of Westeros."
Present with the King was the Hand, Lord Ormond, Jaehaerys II's brother-in-law. Broad-shouldered, tall, and imposing, Ormond embodied the strength and courage of a warrior. He looked upon Rhaegar with a mix of pride and quiet calculation.
"I hope one day you will honor my name—a fearless warrior, a roaring stag," Ormond murmured.
Jaehaerys II's face grew somber. "I wish to wield my own sword, to lead the troops before the Blackfyres arrive. I cannot leave this responsibility to Aerys. He is not a born warrior."
Ormond replied with calm reasoning, "Your Grace, you are the King, but personal martial prowess matters. Even you are no match for Prince Duncan the Tall. On the battlefield, skill speaks, and many Dragonseeds have already fallen. We cannot risk more lives recklessly."
"Furthermore," Ormond continued, "the shadow of Summer Hall has not faded. The kingdom cannot withstand losing its King again. Let me lead the army to the Stepstones, extinguish the Blackfyres' threat, and preserve the realm."
Rhaegar's chubby little hand reached out, instinctively wiping the King's tears from his cheeks. Jaehaerys II smiled through his grief. "Hold him. He is the future of this kingdom."
The infant was passed to Lord Ormond. The two men, standing in the Council Chamber, spoke passionately, oblivious to the tiny observer in their midst. But Rhaegar saw everything, recording it in the silent system of his mind.
Chronologically, both men were nearing the end of their lives. To think loyal, blood-bound men like these could have been forced into rebellion in another timeline… it only confirmed the failures of Aerys and Rhaegar from the past world.
"There is no need to weep," Ormond said softly. "As warriors, the best end is on the battlefield, as our ancestors taught us."
"My son… I trust you will care for him," Jaehaerys II replied. "If Steffon has a daughter, I will see Rhaegar married to her in time."
Rhaegar, even in swaddling clothes, considered the timeline ahead. His nemesis, Robert, would soon be born. Yet, with his early allocation of points, the boy knew he would be ready. And with the loyalty of the old and the lessons of history, many disasters could be averted before they began.