Aegon’s eyes narrowed.
He understood the problem now.
“I’ve already sent Ser Arryk ahead to prepare.
You can write to him.
I’ll go to Dragonstone and stay put.”
He walked to the huge model of the Valyrian Freehold and pulled one of the towers loose.
“If you don’t let me go, I’ll pull down every tower.”
Viserys’s eye twitched.
The little brat was threatening him.
At seven, he would never have dared threaten his own father.
Aegon kept his face blank.
He knew exactly why Viserys was afraid of him running off to the Wall in the North.
The Night King.
As if he didn’t know.
“Fine.
I’m going.”
He left before Viserys could answer.
He found Aemond, who was fidgeting and distracted, and gave him a look.
Then he turned to Helaena.
“Helaena, if Mother asks, tell her I took Aemond out to play.
Understood?”
Helaena nodded and went back to playing with the bug in her hand.
Aegon led Aemond to the Dragonpit in King’s Landing.
Seeing how restless Aemond was, Aegon patted his head.
“What’s on your mind?
If you’re scared, we can wait two years.
You’re not even five yet.
There’s time.”
“Brother, is that she-dragon really gentle?” Aemond pressed his lips together.
Aegon thought back.
Silverwing was gentle.
He suspected anyone with Targaryen blood could claim her.
If a drunk like Ulf could ride Silverwing, there was no reason Aemond couldn’t.
Still, for Aemond’s safety, he would test Silverwing himself first.
Better than watching his little brother get roasted like a suckling pig.
“Don’t be afraid.
I’ll approach Silverwing first.
You watch from a distance and make your own choice.”
As they spoke, Sunfyre crawled out at the Dragonkeepers’ summons.
Sunfyre, also called Sunfyre the Golden, was a young male dragon with gleaming gold scales.
Born on the Dragonmont, he had been claimed by Aegon while still a juvenile.
When Aegon went to the Dragonmont to choose a young dragon, he had meant to try for Vermithor, the Bronze Fury.
Vermithor was the second largest living dragon, younger than Vhagar and in his prime.
But before Aegon ever saw Vermithor, he met the juvenile Sunfyre.
One look was enough.
No taming gestures.
No dragon commands.
As if it were fate, Sunfyre lowered himself before Aegon with practiced ease and accepted him.
Aegon forgot Vermithor after that.
Aside from age, Sunfyre was better in every way.
According to Dr.
Guldan in the original novels, Sunfyre was likely the most magnificent and beautiful dragon in the history of Westeros, perhaps the entire world.
A Dragonkeeper approached Aegon and bowed.
“My prince, there is something you should know.”
“Speak.” Aegon stroked the great head Sunfyre pressed toward him.
The Dragonkeeper glanced at Sunfyre, then straightened.
“Sunfyre’s condition is unusual.”
“Unusual?”
Aegon frowned and stepped back, looking the dragon over.
“What’s unusual?
He’s still adorable.
Still sweet and dopey.”
The Dragonkeeper’s eye twitched.
Your idea of adorable may need some work.
“My prince, have you noticed the size of Syrax and Seasmoke?” the Dragonkeeper asked.
Sunfyre, Syrax, and Seasmoke were dragons of the same generation, all born around 100 AC.
Now that he mentioned it, Aegon had never paid attention to the other two.
“Say what you mean.
Speak plainly.” Aegon switched to pure Valyrian, annoyed.
This was about Sunfyre, and the Dragonkeepers were playing riddles with him.
“Since you claimed Sunfyre, his growth has accelerated sharply.
He is now twice the size of Syrax.
And he has grown aggressive.
Nearly every day he tries to break his chains.
We are struggling to control him.”
The Dragonkeeper’s tone was serious, his face graver than Aegon had ever seen.
Aegon didn’t waste words.
He entered the dragon-bond trance.
In Westeros, or rather in this world of magic, there were people called skinchangers, also known as wargs.
A skinchanger could enter the mind of an animal or person and control their actions.
The bond was easier when an emotional connection already existed.
Aegon had awakened no special gift after transmigrating.
His only unusual trait was a steadily growing mental strength.
With that strength, he had become a dragon-bond a year ago, able to enter Sunfyre’s mind with ease.
Connected to Sunfyre’s consciousness, Aegon searched carefully.
Aside from a restless heat in the dragon’s body, nothing seemed wrong.
Just as he was about to withdraw, Sunfyre’s mind rippled.
“Don’t want the Dragonpit.
Want freedom…”
The meaning came through clearly in Aegon’s mind, and it startled him.
The first time he had connected with Sunfyre, the dragon couldn’t manage even the simplest expression.
“Is that why you’ve been so aggressive?
Because you don’t want to live in the Dragonpit?
Is your body uncomfortable?
Anything strange?”
“No…
want to fly.
Hate…
dark Dragonpit.” Sunfyre’s thoughts came again.
Then Aegon remembered something.
It was said that after the Targaryen dragons were confined to the Dragonpit, they grew smaller with each generation.
The enclosed pit stunted their growth.
No dragon bred in the Dragonpit ever reached the size of Vhagar or Meraxes, let alone Balerion the Black Dread.