The Bronze Dragon-A House of the Dragon fanfic

Chapter 1

My father had visited King's Landing at regular intervals over the next few years. My grandfather was off gallivanting in Pentos with his new wife, Laena Velaryon, and they're two children; Baela and Rhaena, and meetings between them were an impossibility. A pity; if my grandfather had taken more care with my father, they might have averted the catastrophe that befell Westeros.

What can be said of my uncles Aegon and Aemond? What we know is that Aegon from a young age tended to slake his lusts on serving girls and indulged heavily in wine. Aemond had been described as a fierce youth and quick to anger, though that is certainly not the way my father described their younger years. As for my mother, she and my father shared something of a friendly bond even before their marriage; she often ascribed it to father's patience with her.

My father's visit to King's Landing just after his 14th nameday is perhaps the one that history has recorded most, if only for an incident in the Red Keep's training yard that would be one of the root causes of the war to come...

King's Landing, 126 AC

If there was one thing Daevar hated about visiting the capital, it was the heat. He was more used to the cooler climate of the Vale, and he already felt himself beginning to sweat under the bronze cuirass he wore as he made his way through the Red Keep. True, the rune-inscribed armour was meant to serve as a symbol of office more than anything, but he often wondered why Lamentation didn't fill that alone. As it was, the Valyrian steel sword of House Royce was strapped to his hip, often being eyed by members of the City Watch.

He had been passing through the corridors of the old castle when quite literally bumped into Aemond. The boy seemed to have been crying earlier; his bloodshot eyes gave it away. His cousin had always been annoyed that he did not have a dragon yet, but something had happened this time. "Aemond, what's wrong?" Daevar asked.

"They gave me a pig." The boy replied. "Aegon and Jace and Luke. They took me down into the Dragonpit to see Jace with Vermax and said they had a dragon for me, and they gave me a bloody pig." Aemond was not a boy given to displays of anger or frustration, but Daevar could see it on his face. Aegon had gotten to him this time. "Even Daeron has a dragon, and he's a year younger than me!"

"I don't have one." Daevar reminded him. True, Gerold had ordered part of the hillside around Runestone to be hollowed out in preparation for Daevar to claim one, but he hadn't. He preferred the idea of keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground instead of flying over it, where all it took was one mishap for everything to go wrong. Dragons were powerful, but not invincible. There was a reason why Rhaenys and Meraxes hadn't survived their last incursion into Dorne, that stubborn principality that defied their house to this day.

"Still..." Aemond trailed off.

Daevar pulled the boy into a hug to console him. "A dragon doesn't define our worth, Aemond. It just means we have to make up for it in other ways." He said, patting the hilt of Lamentation.

Aemond gave Daevar a weak smile. "Not all of us have Valyrian steel swords, though."

"Then we find another way to make up for it." He said before looking him up and down. "Have you put on muscle, cousin?" Daevar was mostly asking to make Aemond feel better, but despite having just ten years, the boy seemed just as well-built as some of the other lads who were years older than him.

"Some, I think." Aemond replied, feeling his arms instinctually, before giving Daevar a cheeky grin. "You still look thin."

"Watch it." Daevar replied, laughing as the two of them embraced. It had been too long since they had last seen each other, that much was certain.