The Dragon's Legacy

Chapter Nineteen

Martyn Hightower stood by the rocks of the castle of Storm's End.

I will see the boy that my sister died bringing to this world. Martyn thought to himself. Even if he is born of abominations line... I must see what kind of man he has grown up to be.

Martyn had not seen Daemion for years. Last he had seen him, Daemion was a boy of five. But now they singed songs of admiration and fear of him. "The beautiful Daemion Targaryen." Some had called him.

"Dragon!" A man on the tower yelled.

Martyn Hightower watched as the large scarlet black dragon landed near Storm's End. His nephew, Ceryse's only son, Daemion Targaryen had finally come. And behind him were two ships, none Velaryon.

"Go to the drgaon and greet prince Daemion." Martyn Hightower ordered 3 of his men.

Two ships?! Martyn wondered to himself. He had heard of his nephews valour and mastery of sword, but by the looks of it you don't have a mind for strategy nephew, Martyn thought to himself.

If the negotiations fail to satisfy, they must be ready for battle, for Dorne is not to be trusted. They would kill everyone on Greenstone before they go back to their pile of sand Martyn Hightower thought to himself.

One of the three soldiers who had run to the Dragon returned and spoke. "My lord, prince Daemion is coming to your presence."

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When he had last seen Daemion, he was a small and skinny boy with shaved head and large deep violet eyes. Quite Frnakly the boy Martyn had seen was neither a Hightower nor a Targaryen.

But now, the boy... was not a boy, but a young man. An inhumanly beautiful, tall man, who by the looks of it no longer was ashamed of his mothers hair, his sisters hair, their fathers hair.

The boy looks more Targaryen than Hightower despite his raven hair... much like Queen Visenya herself, and that incest son of hers but yet... I can see Ceryse... Martyn thought to himself.

"Lord Hightower." Daemion spoke formally with a far deeper voice than Martyn had expected and stood in front of Martyn and looked down to look him in the eyes. "Uncle."

"Daemion." Martyn spoke as he studied his nephew. "You have grown nephew."

Daemion was wearing a long black leather coat on top of a crimson shirt. The long black coat was like nothing Martyn had ever seen, but one thing was for absolute, this Black leather coat truly brought out the deep colour of Daemion's eyes.

But what caught Martyn's eyes was the Dark Sister on Daemion's waist. The sword of queen Visenya.

Martyn had not seen anything remarkable nor notable of Daemion's looks when he was a boy. But now... the beauty of old Valyria was mixed with Ceryse's long straight raven hair and Maegor's strong physique.

Daemion nodded his head slowly. "What brings you to Storm's End?" Daemion asked. "I did not write you a letter to ask for your aid Uncle."

"I believed you forgot to write one nephew." Martyn spoke. Martyn did not know why Daemion was avoiding him. He had expected Daemion to write to him when he had started his campaign in Stepstones, but to his surprise and disappointment nothing was ever sent to him.

"Had your aid was required dear uncle, I assure you I would have troubled you with its burden." Daemion spoke, his face displaying an emotion unknown to Martyn.

"Need not to say such things nephew. I allowed you to endanger yourself in battle against Dornish pawns in Stepstones. But I will not do that now." Martyn spoke almost sincerely. "You are of my blood Daemion. You are a Hightower as much as you are a Targaryen."