"when a targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin. one side greatness, the other madness."
in which the rebellious nature of the son of daemon targaryen and laena velaryon leads to him meeting the rumored bastard of princess rhaenyra targaryen and ser...
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The light wind blew against Rhaerys' face, his short silver curls moving with the breeze. His eyes focused on the large dragons, belonging to his mother and his father, that flew up in the light blue sky. His mother, riding the larger dragon of the two in the sky, instructed Vhagar to spew her flames and the dragon did so. An enormous cloud of dragon fire was created before Vhagar turned downward, allowing the young boy's father and his dragon, Caraxes, to pass through the flames. The Blood Wyrm screeched his fierce roar as it turned down to chase after Vhagar.
Rhaerys watched with bliss flickering in his eyes. He leaned forward on the battlements of the manse the family lived in as he watched the dragons fly over the manse. The ground and structure shook as the beasts flew over his head. He released a breathy laugh, moving to the other side of the battlements to keep his eyes on Daemon and Laena on their dragons.
"Rhaerys!" an acolyte yelled as she reached the final steps to the battlements. She exhaled a breath of irritation and a hint of relief as she hurried over to the young Targaryen. "What have you been told about being up here without supervision?"
"I wanted to watch Ceraxes and Vhagar," Rhaerys notified as he kept his wide eyes on the dragons in the sky. Suddenly, he felt a strong grip on both of his shoulders. He looked behind him to see the acolyte leading him back to the door that led inside the manse. "Just for a few more moments?"
"No, child," she told him. Her hand turned his head forward as they approached the stone steps inside. "You must get ready for supper."
The table was full of food, and yet, Rhaerys did not touch a single item on its surface. He did not even touch the drink that stood in his chalice. His sisters and parents, however, ate whatever they could. His mother gave him a worried glance, just now noticing his lack of appetite.
"Rhaerys, at least eat your turnips," Laena whispered into his ear. She rubbed his silver curls and placed a light kiss on his forehead. Rhaerys nodded his head and, rather begrudgingly, took small bites of the turnips slathered in a large abundance of butter to satisfy his mother.
"The lamb hearts are excellent," Prince Reggio Haratis lauded as he dug into his food.
"We are fortunate in our cook, Your Excellence," Laena noted. Her eyes dwelled on the man at the end of the table across from her husband. "There's a plum cake yet to be served, which will have us fighting over the crumbs."
"Then before we come to blows..." the prince trailed off as he drummed his fingers against the table. He lifted his chalice in the air and his eyes scanned the faces at the table. Everyone raised theirs, including Rhaerys with some guidance from his Mother, and held it in the air as he spoke, "A toast to Aegon the Conqueror, your exalted forebear, who joined our cause against Volantis in the Century of Blood. On the great dragon, Balerion, he flew to our aid in Lys and burned a fleet of enemy ships, thus turning the tide."
