The Lion And The Dragon

Fire and Sand - Jon Connington POV

Aegon. Aegon, where are you? You stupid fool. You've left on Drogon weeks ago, and you haven't returned. I'm scared for you, I miss you. Don't die before I seat you on the Iron Throne. It's a debt I owe to Rhaegar. In your recklessness you attempted to claim a dragon. I fear he failed. What if he's in Valyria like Aerea? What if Drogon flew him to Asshai or Sothoryos? I pray again. I pray for the safe return of the rightful king. Son of my sweet prince Rhaegar. I had nurtured you, bought you gifts, went on rides with you, loved you like my own damn son. And now, weeks have passed and where is he? He's a dragon spawn, he'll be fine, I try to tell myself. But what if, what if-
Suddenly, I'm interrupted by a roar. A dragon's roar. I breathe a huge sigh of relief as I look out of my window.

"It's Drogon.. and Aegon is riding him. The Gods are good sometimes, after all."
My King never looked so graceful. Riding a dragon with such elegance requires.. talents. He's dressed in fine silks and appears to be well-fed. His long silver hair flies in the wind as I await his landing.
He landed. As he walked his first step on the ground after so much time on dragonback, I gasped. He's.. beautiful. Just like Rhaegar. The finest of red and black silks. Golden dragons in his hair. Green rings. Where has he been? Who has treated him so well? Whoever did.. may the Seven guide you.

"Aegon, you absolute idiot. You had me so worried. I thought you might be dead. I thought Drogon took you somewhere unsafe, or you lost control of him. And now you arrive looking like the King you are. You truly are Rhaegar's son. Nothing can stop you." I was having a moment, really. I felt like a man watching his son grow up. Maybe because I've been doing so for the past 13 years.
"The Usurper's hammer stopped my father." That's all he had to say? Really? It's been three weeks and he comes with this?
"What do you mean by that?"
"You are right, Griff. Nothing can stop me now. Because I am not my father."
As much as I didn't like those words of his, I didn't care at the moment. He was safe. I thought I might've failed Rhaegar again. I didn't.
"May I.. embrace you again, Your Grace?"
"Not in front of people, Griff. It'd look weird." He hissed, waving his hand towards a more private place.

That private place was Illyrio's gardens. Aegon had planted some of the flowers there, so he held the gardens dear to his heart. There, I lost restraint of myself. Before Aegon could even check whether anyone was there, I wrapped him into a tight embrace. My boy. My son. We may not be bound by blood, but he's like a son to me. When he got older and got more beautiful, resembling Rhaegar, sure, I had fantasized about more, but no other man could replace my dragon prince. And his son.. it'd be the biggest of insults on Rhaegar's grave. That's why I will not allow it. And if he wasn't his son, like the Usurper's men say... Then who would he be? Would I still fight for him out of duty to Rhaegar? Or out of affection? But I won't abandon him. I know he's my prince's son. And I shall give my life for his if need be.

After what seemed like forever, Aegon pulled away and looked like he had something to say.
"Go on." I muttered.
"As king of the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms, I name you lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands." I knelt.
"If the day I seat myself on the Iron Throne comes, I shall grant you back Griffin's Roost, your ancestral home, and all of the titles the traitor Tarth currently holds. I swear it upon the Seven Pointed Star. In the name of the Father, the Mother, the Maiden, the Warrior, the Smith, the Crone and the Stranger.
Rise, Lord Paramount Jon Connington."
He took his sword and lightly touched it on my shoulders, as well as my head.
"Your Grace, you were supposed to do that while I was kneeling." I laughed.
"Says who?"
"The protocol."
"We don't need it."
"Says who?" I retorted back at him.
"Your King." He gave me a harsh look, like if I was some traitor who had rebelled and was getting ready for execution. I tried not to laugh, in my eyes, he's still a boy, not a man of 1 and 20. And he sure acts like a boy sometimes. Looks like one, too.

After my unofficial appointment, I was tasked with securing the Dornish alliance the day our invasion comes, which Aegon had named would be the first day of the first moon of 304 AD. It's the fifth moon of 303 AC. I pleaded with him to delay it, but he has an awful lot of trust in my capabilities. Why? I have failed his father and grandfather, and I am dreading the next year. I pray. I pray to the Warrior for blessings in combat and I pray to the Father to be just and honourable, to allow me to secure the Seven Kingdoms for the rightful king. And I pray to the Maiden, for I have fallen in love. Again. The last time I had done so, the worst of tragedies happened. But this time, I will never show my love. I will shelter it, just in case. No! What am I thinking? Falling in love?! Insults on Rhaegar's grave! Unless.. a mummer's Dragon flies in the skies.

My preparations are going splendidly. I have won the support of Dorne just by repeating old oaths of fealty. Is that all it took? The Dornishmen are vipers. I distrust them. But I'll give Prince Doran Martell the benefit of the doubt. I had negotiated an alliance with Robin Arryn. He's getting married to some Hightower girl. Should the Gods be good, they'll have a daughter and she shall we'd Aegon the Sixth. And that's two great houses won over. Next on my list are.. the Manderlyes of Winterfell. Poor, poor Starks. Massacred by Cersei and the Boltons. Now neither the Boltons nor the Starks are alive. Good. They were traitors who betrayed Rhaegar. I'll come to Westeros and spit on their graves. I hope Lord Manderly will be more amiable.

Goodnight, Rhaegar.