“Congratulations, Ser Tyland,” Aegon shouted over the night clouds.
“You’re the first Lannister to ever ride a dragon.”
Tyland gripped Aegon’s waist tighter, his eyes clamped shut, refusing to look down at the clouds below them.
“A historic achievement, Your grace… and one I intend to celebrate thoroughly,” Tyland said as he held onto Aegon like a maiden.
“Just keep your hands on the reins. And where… where did the coin determine we land? Pray tell me it is somewhere near, with solid ground and very short towers!”
Aegon didn’t listen.
Instead, he let go of the reins completely and spread his arms wide to hug the sky as Sunfyre plunged straight through a heavy cloud, drenching them both in cold water.
“Aegon wiped his face.
‘Did you know, Ser Tyland?
Clouds are just water.’
“I didn’t know, Your Grace,’ Tyland shouted back, wiping water from his eyes. ‘But I do know that when Larys finds out what happened after he left us, he’ll die of bitterness.”
“Come on, open your eyes! Don’t be afraid!” Aegon shouted over the wind.
“What will you tell your kin when they ask you how dragon riding was? For my part, I will tell them you clung to me like a frightened maiden who didn’t open her eyes her entire bedding night!”
Tyland slowly peeled his eyes open, blinking against the cold air.
The world below was just a vast blur of grey clouds and green land stretching out forever.
“I shall tell my kin that dragon riding is a highly overrated endeavor, Your Grace,” Tyland shouted back, his teeth chattering against the wind.
“And as for my behavior, I merely exercised the appropriate caution required when one’s monarch decides to navigate the skies hands-free. I assure you, it was statesmanship, not fear. And the Seven gave men legs so they might stay firmly on the dirt.”
Even from high in the sky, the ruins of Harrenhal were clear in the night.
Aegon held the reins.
“Then you will do well to hold me tight, Lannister, for you won’t like what comes next.”
Sunfyre tipped his massive golden snout downward, catching a current of cold morning air as he began a gentle, spiraling dive toward the colossal, melted black towers of Harrenhal below them. Follow the newest chapters on novelping(.)com.
In the vast, ruined Outer Ward of Harrenhal, Vhagar opened a single pale eye.
She stirred, her massive body shaking the ancient stone as she caught the scent of a dragon in the wind.
The thunderous rasp of her scales against the cobblestones brought Aemond running from the keep, Blackfyre bare in his hand, his eye turned toward the sky to see what disturbed Vhagar.
Soon sunfyre landed a hundred yards away from Vhagar in the exact same courtyard.
“Sunfyre,” Aemond muttered in disbelief.
Vhagar settled back down onto the stone, her massive head resting as she watched the golden dragon land.
“Aegon?”
Across the hundred yards of the vast courtyard, Aegon dismounted from Sunfyre, Ser Tyland right behind him.
Aegon limped the long distance over the cobblestones until he finally stood face-to-face with his brother.
“You beautiful, one-eyed cunt, how have I missed you,” Aegon said as he spread his arms and kissed the bewildered Aemond on the cheeks.
“My Prince,” Tyland called from the side, bowing his head slightly.
Aemond froze, his grip on Blackfyre tightening as his brother’s burned face pressed hard against his cheeks.
He slowly lowered the Valyrian steel blade, his single violet eye wide with bewilderment.
“Your manners have apparently burned away with your skin, brother,” Aemond remarked, though his hands reached behind Aegon’s back and hugged him fiercely.
“The ravens from the capital said you were dead. I was ready to burn the Riverlands to draw out Daemon from his rathole.”
As Aegon was about to speak, a woman stepped out from the castle keep into the courtyard.
She was a simple, dark-haired woman with plain features, wearing a loose, comfortable wool gown that couldn’t hide her heavily pregnant belly.
Aemond noticed his brother’s gaze and stepped back, a rare, soft expression touching his severe face as he gestured toward the woman.
“Aegon, this is Alys Rivers,” Aemond introduced her, his voice carrying a proud, protective gravity.
“Your blood,” Aegon repeated.
“Well, congratulations, brother. And it’s nice to meet you, My lady. I hope my brother hasn’t been too much of a handful for you in this gloomy place.”
Alys offered a small, quiet smile, bowing her head slightly.
“Not at all, Your Grace. The Prince has been a perfect gentleman. Why not rest, Your Grace, as we prepare food and beds? Your journey must have been tiring.”
“Thank you for your kind offer,” Aegon refused politely, preferring his mind unfucked by this witch, “but I must head to Tumbleton.”
“Tumbleton?” Aemond asked.
“Why must you go there now?”
“Because Daeron is there with our main host,” Aegon answered.
“Matter of fact, why are you here? Why are you not with Daeron or Cole?”
“I am waiting for Daemon, to draw him out and kill him,” Aemond answered with a smile.
“What?” Aegon asked, confused.
“Daeron is alone. Our young brother is alone with our main host and his young dragon, and they have Vermithor, Silverwing, and Caraxes. And you’re here waiting for Daemon, who may or may not come?”
Aemond stiffened, though he couldn’t deny the logic.
He turned to Alys as well; he couldn’t abandon her here alone while she was carrying his child, but if his brother were besieged…
“Daemon is no coward; he would have come eventually,” Aemond finally spoke.
“And I can’t leave Alys here alone.”
“She won’t stay here alone,” Aegon said.
“We will take Tyland to Casterly Rock to secure the Westerlands. She can stay there, protected, while we go to reinforce our brother, our baby brother and our uncle.”