Game of thrones: The fire lord

Before entering King's Landing, Aemon had made up his mind.

But the moment he set foot on land, his resolve was tested.

The noon sun hung high, casting golden reflections over the still waters of Blackwater Bay.

Standing at the bow of the ship, Prince Aemon gazed ahead. From this distance, he could already see the towering Mud Gate, standing tall and imposing.

"There are so many people," Aemon murmured as he leaned on the railing, balancing on tiptoes to get a better view. From above, the bustling port looked like a colony of ants, tiny figures scurrying about their business.

On the dock, knights from the Vale stood waiting for their arrival.

It had been a smooth journey—until now.

BOOM!

Suddenly, a golden blur shot over the city walls, piercing through the drifting white clouds.

In the next moment, the soft mist scattered in all directions, blown away by an immense force.

Hiss!

Before the ships on Blackwater Bay had time to react, the golden figure plummeted from the sky at breathtaking speed. As its enormous wings sliced through the air, the tip of one brushed the water's surface, creating a powerful gust.

Waves surged violently, rocking the ships.

"A dragon! Protect the prince!"

A panicked voice rang out as Ser Ryan, the Seagull Knight, sprang into action. In one swift motion, he lunged toward Aemon, shielding him with his body.

Aemon barely had time to register what was happening before everything around him went dark. He felt the ship lurch, the wooden deck shuddering beneath his feet.

Crash!

A wall of seawater rose into the air. The force of the wind sent several ships rocking precariously, their crews scrambling for balance.

On deck, the Vale knights shouted as they struggled to keep their footing, nearly toppling over from the impact.

And just as quickly as it came, the disturbance vanished.

The golden blur soared high, climbing thousands of feet before disappearing beyond Blackwater Bay.

"What was that? Was it a dragon?"

Aemon, unfazed by the chaos, poked his head out from under Ser Ryan's protective grasp.

The knight, still scanning the skies, waited until the dragon had fully disappeared before straightening up. "Yes," he confirmed grimly. "It looked like the princess's dragon."

He had glimpsed the golden beast once before, from a distance, near Seagull Town. Seeing it up close now made his back slick with cold sweat.

"Sir, please get up. You're squishing me," Aemon muttered, struggling beneath his weight.

Ser Ryan hurriedly stepped back, concern etched on his face. "Are you hurt, my prince?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Ser Ryan," Aemon replied, brushing off his clothes.

But in his mind, he was thinking something entirely different.

It's grown so much...

Then, with a nonchalant shrug, he added, "It's just a dragon. It's not like I haven't seen one before."

With the excitement over, the ship soon reached the dock.

As Aemon set foot in King's Landing, he couldn't help but frown.

There was no honor guard waiting for him. No royal escort, no carriage, and not even a single member of the Kingsguard.

At the Mud Gate, the scene was chaotic—merchants, fishermen, nobles, and commoners all mingled together.

The Vale knights raised the Royce family's sigil, but their banners were overshadowed by two dominant houses—the roaring lion of Lannister and the crowned stag of Baratheon.

Compared to them, the Royce banner seemed almost insignificant.

"Let's go," Aemon said, voice tinged with irritation.

At his command, Gunthor, his towering bodyguard, moved forward like a battering ram. Without hesitation, he shoved aside merchants and commoners blocking their path, clearing the way toward the city gates.

This time, Aemon's mother, Lady Rhea Royce, had stayed behind to arrange accommodations.

Of course, Aemon suspected the real reason—she simply didn't want to see the king.

As they made their way through the city streets, the sound of rolling carriage wheels caught Aemon's attention.

"Move aside! Move aside!"

The cry rang out as a luxurious white carriage approached from across the street.

The Royal Guard, carrying three red dragon banners, rode ahead, clearing the path.

A white knight, clad in silver armor and a white cloak, dismounted and bowed deeply. "Apologies, my prince. There was an unexpected delay on the way."

Aemon narrowed his eyes.

Were they truly delayed, or did they just forget about me and send someone at the last minute?

"Is His Majesty busy?" Aemon asked, tilting his head.

The Kingsguard knight kept his gaze lowered. "The king is holding a council meeting. The queen will receive you in his place."

"I see."

Aemon clasped his hands behind his back and nodded. "Very well. Thank you for coming."

"It is my duty, my prince."

With that, the knight helped him into the royal carriage, while several Royal Guards provided extra horses for his escort.

As they rode toward the Red Keep, the streets buzzed with murmurs.

Curious onlookers paused in their tracks, their eyes fixated on the unfamiliar silver-haired prince.

The Red Keep – Maegor's Holdfast

Under the Kingsguard's escort, Aemon arrived at the royal palace's inner chambers, an area where few outsiders were allowed.

"Thank you."

He gave a brief nod as the knight took his leave.

Now, standing alone in the dimly lit corridor, Aemon approached a grand wooden door.

Knock, knock.

The sound echoed through the chamber.

Inside, Queen Alicent Hightower stood near a window, cradling a newborn in her arms. She hummed softly, her voice warm and soothing.

At the sound of knocking, she turned in confusion.

And then, from behind the door, a tiny boot peeked through, followed by a grinning silver-haired, purple-eyed boy.

"Alicent, hello!"

For a moment, surprise flickered across her tired face. Then, warmth spread through her features, replacing her exhaustion.

"Aemon? Is that you?"

She took a step forward before remembering the swaddled infant in her arms. Handing the child to a maid, she turned her full attention to the boy.

"I've returned from Old Runestone City," Aemon announced proudly.

Before he could say another word, Alicent swept him up, dragging him into the chamber.

Stepping onto the plush black-and-white carpet, Aemon barely had time to react before Alicent cupped his face, turning his head from side to side.

"How was your time in the Vale? I heard Lady Rhea Royce can be difficult."

Aemon puffed up his cheeks. "It was fine. After all, I'm her son."

Alicent let out a soft sigh of relief. "I was worried the mountain air wouldn't suit you."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Alicent smiled—truly smiled.

Her beauty was undeniable, her features delicate yet full of warmth. Dark curls framed her face, complementing her gentle demeanor.

As Aemon inhaled the faint floral scent he had grown so familiar with, he began recounting the simple details of his life in the Vale.

Alicent listened intently, holding him close as if he were her own younger brother.

Her eyes twinkled with fondness as she noticed the embroidered pouch tied to his waist.

They had always been close.

From the moment Aemon was born, Alicent—then still a young maiden—had spent her days at court, caring for the aging King Jaehaerys.

And as fate would have it, she had also cared for his great-grandson.

----------------------------------------------

Extra chapters available in patreon

patreon.com/Dragonscribe31