Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 501: Hatching Eggs or Taming Dragons?

Chapter 501: Hatching Eggs or Taming Dragons?

"Roar!"

As the cobalt blue dragon appeared, its vertical pupils cast a disdainful glance over the group of human cubs before letting out a piercing, violent roar.

"Brother, let's retreat!" Aemon's eyes widened in alarm as he pulled Baelon, ready to flee.

"Wait."

"Wait!"

Two voices shouted in unison, stopping Aemon's escape plan.

Frustrated, Aemon snapped, "Why don't you just run and wait for me to call the Trickster?"

If he could rely on his dragon, he would have already secured victory in Volantis and claimed a Free Cities title for himself, just as his uncle did once.

Baelon, not taking his eyes off the dragon, pulled his hand away and asked hesitantly, "Is it trying to scare us?"

"Really?" Aemon said in an incredulous tone.

Baelon scratched his head. "Not exactly."

"Then let's run!"

Aemon started to pull his brother away again.

Baela grabbed his collar and frowned. "Why are you running? This is Daeron's Tessarion."

Her shout was the first to stop Aemon in his tracks.

Aemon sniffed and looked more closely at the dragon.

Tessarion’s wings were a deep cobalt blue, with scales on its claws, horns, and belly gleaming like polished copper. The dragon was enormous, easily fifteen meters long and nearing adulthood.

Aemon stared in awe and muttered, "Huh. It really is our young uncle's dragon."

Baelon sighed in resignation. "It’s Daeron’s dragon."

Daeron, a bookish type, rarely made appearances and seldom traveled with his dragon. Tessarion lived deep within the Dragonpit, unseen.

Rhaena guided Maekar forward and asked, "Baelon, do you recognize Tessarion?"

"Not exactly," Baelon admitted, shaking his head. "It just feels oddly familiar."

Rhaena seemed to understand and redirected the conversation. "Let’s head into the Dragonpit. We don’t need to fear it."

The “it” referred to the proud dragon perched above.

Tessarion, with a reserved demeanor, moved with grace as it climbed out of the pit, its vertical pupils sparkling with intelligence. Aware of the human cubs' gaze, it rose with a powerful, deliberate climb, spreading its cobalt wings in a dramatic display.

"Roar!"

The long roar cut through the biting sea breeze.

Baelon looked up at the towering dragon and sighed. "It's so beautiful, it almost rivals Sunfyre."

"Tessarion is lazy, but it's beatifull indeed," Rhaena remarked with a smirk.

Aemon rolled his eyes. "It's a female dragon?"

"Who knows? It depends on whether it lays eggs or not," Baela replied, cutting off further discussion as she led her siblings toward the entrance of the makeshift Dragonpit.

The stone doors, weathered and mottled with age, were pushed open with considerable effort. The group squeezed through the narrow gap, making their way inside.

“Roar!”

“Roar…”

As he entered, two mournful roars echoed, followed by the harsh sound of wings flapping.

Baela’s face tightened with concern at the commotion. “Moondancer!”

The hall was dimly lit, overrun with nuisance moss, and the shadows of two dragons moved restlessly.

“Roar!”

One dragon shadow landed in the center of the hall with a distinct thud. The dragon, adorned with green scales, a pearly crown of horns, and striking wing membranes dotted like a butterfly’s wings, was Moondancer. A deep gash marred its neck, blood dripping steadily.

Seeing its rider, the dragon’s protector instinctively shielded Baela.

“What happened?” Baela’s voice trembled as she gently cupped Moondancer’s neck and turned it to inspect the wound.

Rhaena, equally distressed, offered her support, softly comforting her sister.

Baelon, sensing something was amiss, exchanged a concerned glance with Aemon, who had already shrunk back from the doorway, his expression troubled.

As they tried to manage the situation, another dragon shadow emerged from the darkness with a cheerful “Roar...” and a thin, scorpion-like tail.

Before the Baela sisters could react, Maekar shouted. “Trickster!”

"It's over!" Baelon and Aemon exchanged exasperated glances, feeling as if their plans were about to be foiled.

“Roar…”

Trickster emerged from the shadows, its head held high with a victorious air. Unlike Moondancer, Trickster’s dark green scales and bright red wing membranes were intact. Its head, neck, paws, and tail showed no sign of injury.

Aemon let out a sigh of relief. “Good to see you’re unharmed.”

Trickster nuzzled Aemon’s side, its head arching in a display of affection, as if seeking praise.

Aemon, slightly embarrassed, glanced at Baela.

“Hmph!” Baela grunted in frustration, turning her gaze away.

The two young dragons now stood less than three meters apart, their contrasting conditions starkly evident. Both were the same age—Moondancer had hatched in April, while Trickster emerged in late December, making them about eight months apart in development.

Trickster had grown quickly, measuring over four meters long, while Moondancer, though slightly behind, had just crossed the four-meter mark. Moondancer was built for nimble mobility, whereas Trickster was larger and more robust, with broad wings, sharp claws, a regal crown of horns, and a formidable tail.

Given Moondancer’s injuries, it was clear that a conflict had occurred between the two young dragons, with Trickster’s physical advantage playing a significant role.

Aemon, unable to hide his admiration, complimented, “Well done, Trickster.”

Indeed, Trickster lived up to his reputation, showcasing the strength and resilience that made him stand out.

Baela, pained by Moondancer's injuries and Aemon's insensitivity, gritted her teeth. "Aemon, do you want to get hit?"

Aemon scowled and ducked behind Baelon, calling out defiantly, "Brother, go get her!"

Baelon froze, looking between Aemon and the much larger Baela. He swallowed nervously. "Gulp~"

Stepping back, Baelon tried to cover behind Aemon. "Brother, you are a dragon rider."

"You..." Aemon started, but was suddenly pulled forward by a slender, dark-skinned hand grabbing his collar.

“You come here!” Baela’s eyes were filled with determination, her intent clear.

At nine years old, Baela had already developed early and was more than capable of asserting herself. Aemon, genuinely frightened, pleaded, “Let go of me! Brother!”

She had been the one changing his diapers when they were younger, always ready to lay down the law.

“Roar!”

“Roar…”

The commotion between the children quickly attracted the attention of their dragons. Moondancer, wary from its recent injuries, stayed put. Trickster, on the other hand, watched the scene with curiosity, its vertical pupils glinting with interest.

"What a loyal dragon," Baelon muttered, noticing Trickster's attention.

Leaving Aemon to his fate, Baelon turned and walked away with Rhaena and Maekar toward the depths of the Dragonpit.

The temporary Dragonpit, improved from castle ruins, featured a lobby that had once been the main hall. The upper rooms were dilapidated, with a rotting wooden staircase leading downward.

The trio descended into the original cellar. Decades of erosion had broken down the cellar walls, connecting them to the sea cliffs and forming a curved crypt. Sunlight and sea breeze filtered through the openings.

“Roar~” A subtle roar came from a damp corner.

Rhaena smiled, recognizing the sound. “Morning, come here.”

“Roar~” A pale pink hatchling dragon, resembling a colorful butterfly, emerged from the pit and flew lightly over their heads.

Baelon looked up, observing the dragon. “Morning seems to have grown a bit.”

Morning, born with a deficiency, had developed much slower than other young dragons. Though hatched at the same time as Moondancer, Morning was barely two meters long and still unable to fly with a rider.

Rhaena, accustomed to Morning’s slow growth, gently stroked her pale pink scales. Morning enjoyed the touch, her dragon head arching to present a crown of tiny black pearl-like horns.

Baelon and Maekar crouched down, reaching out to feel Morning’s scales. The familiar dragon nestled into Rhaena's arms, accepting their touch without protest.

After a long while, Rhaena sat on the ground and asked, "Baelon, has your dragon egg hatched yet?"

She and her sister’s dragon eggs had broken their shells when they were six years old.

Baelon rested his cheek on one hand and replied honestly, "No, it’s still like a stone egg."

His dragon egg, with its bronze scales, had been laid by Syrax. Unfortunately, it had shown no signs of hatching.

Rhaena hesitated before asking, "Have you considered taming a dragon?"

"Yes!" Baelon answered firmly.

Rhaena became more interested and continued, "Do you plan to tame one of the young dragons in the Dragonpit at King's Landing or a masterless dragon? For instance, Ser Laenor's Seasmoke still roams around the Sea of Dorne. Seasmoke is an adult dragon like Syrax and Sunfyre. What do you think?"

"Uh..." Baelon hesitated, trying to find the right words.

Maekar, crouched on the ground and drawing circles with her little hands, muttered under her breath, "Brother wants a dragon, an adult dragon!"

"Maekar!" Baelon couldn't help but lose his stoic composure, as if his little secret had been revealed.

Maekar looked away, then turned back with a low voice, "It's not like your thoughts are hard to guess."

He continued drawing circles on the ground, leaving Baelon with his small back hunched over, a basket on his back. Inside the basket was his dark red dragon egg.

Rhaena snickered and fiddled with Maekar’s basket, asking, "Baelon, why didn’t you get a carrier for your own dragon egg?"

She and her sister had found that dragon eggs seemed to hatch faster when exposed to people for long periods. They used to carry their dragon eggs everywhere.

Baelon’s expression became unnatural as he covered his face. "My dragon egg... I left it in my bedroom."

Maekar turned to his brother and gazed at him quietly.

Baelon met his gaze, clenching his small fists in frustration.

Maekar bristled and turned away, annoyed.

The two brothers were not entirely honest. Aemon was a natural liar, much like his dragon. Baelon, though generally honest, often told foolish lies and got irritated when caught.

"I want a sister, a sister is good," Maekar said in a dark voice.

...

High Tide, Guest Residence

Helaena was assigned a room with a view of the sunrise and now sat on the balcony, her knees pulled up to her chin as she gazed out at the scenery.

Unable to ride her dragon at this time, she found solace in the outside view.

Knock knock!

A knock sounded at the door.

Helaena's ears twitched slightly, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Brother, come in," she called softly.

Squeak—

Rhaegar entered, smiling. "Are your ears that good?"

"I just recognize your footsteps," Helaena replied, turning her head slightly. Her long, silky hair cascaded down as she gazed warmly at him.

Rhaegar closed the door behind him and walked over to the balcony.

"Is sister resting?" Helaena asked playfully.

"Coaxing a child is exhausting," Rhaegar nodded, then chuckled. "Why do you look like you're up to something sneaky?"

Helaena's expression froze in surprise. "Do I?"

Before she could respond further, a pair of small hands encircled Rhaegar's waist.

Rhaegar sighed, allowing her to hold him.

Rhaenyra had always known about their close bond and hadn't stopped it.

The two siblings were only one formal ceremony away from cementing their relationship. It should have taken place long ago, but was delayed by complications in the Vale.