Chereads / Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen / Chapter 442 - Chapter 442: Can Spring Be Far Behind?

Chapter 442 - Chapter 442: Can Spring Be Far Behind?

In King's Landing, Daenerys stood presiding over the unveiling of the first Dragonbone Tower. The city had recently experienced another snowfall, leaving everything outside the well-heated Dragonpit blanketed in silver-white. The pristine coating of snow improved the city's appearance, but it also brought challenges. While children played joyfully in the streets, older residents harbored concerns. Snow reaching their ankles meant higher fuel consumption and faster depletion of food stores.

Rumors had spread that the royal family had devised a way to combat the cold, and nearly half of the city had gathered near the Dragon Gate, eager to witness the Dragonbone Tower's completion. This tower, constructed from the remains of the Black Dread, symbolized hope—not only in countering the Night King's Icebone Tower but also in providing much-needed warmth.

The Black Dread's massive black skull, several meters long, had been engraved with intricate golden runes. Its ribs formed the structural support, while wood carvings shaped the tower's body to resemble a crouching dragon. The resulting design, though majestic, exuded an approachable charm due to the proportions—the body was only twice the size of the skull, lending the structure a "cute" appearance.

Now, tens of thousands of people stood fifty meters away, gazing at the tower with anticipation. For most, the promise of warmth eclipsed the distant threat of the Night King. While the Icebone Tower and the Night King's army were a menace restricted to the North, the cold was an immediate and pervasive enemy. Fuel costs had become an unbearable burden for much of Westeros, and the Dragonbone Tower represented a beacon of hope against the bitter winter.

The gathered crowd, dressed in thick, weather-worn sheepskin coats, murmured amongst themselves. Sheepskin, sourced from the Free Cities and the Dothraki Sea, had become affordable enough for most to wear, a small solace in these harsh times. Steam rose from their breath, illuminated by flickering torches, while the hard, dry ground beneath them radiated the chill into their legs. They stomped their feet and huddled for warmth, all while speculating about the Dragonbone Tower.

"So, is the Dragonbone Tower just a big furnace?" asked a man with a stubby chin and dry, weathered cheeks. "Her Grace the Queen's supposed to light it herself?"

"With Viserys away, of course it's Daenerys," another replied. "And I'll bet it's dragon fire she uses to light it!"

"But what's taking Her Grace so long?" the first man grumbled. "Why hasn't she lit it yet? Did she forget to bring firewood?"

The man's complaints earned him a sharp slap on the back of the head from an older man nearby.

"Mind your tongue!" the elder barked. "How dare you speak of Her Grace that way?"

The stubby-chinned man scowled, rubbing his head. "What's the big deal? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking!"

The older man's voice rose, his anger contagious. "What nonsense! If it weren't for Their Graces Viserys and Daenerys, we'd all be frozen stiff by now! You should be thanking them, not whining like a fool!"

Others in the crowd chimed in with agreement.

"Exactly! If the usurper were still in power, we'd all be dead from the cold!"

"Shut your foul mouth before you cause more trouble!"

The commotion soon caught the attention of the Kingsguard. An Unsullied soldier, standing tall and imposing, parted the crowd to address the disturbance. Speaking fluent Common, he demanded, "What is the meaning of this?"

After learning the details, the grumbling man was escorted away.

As the words "Her Grace is coming out" spread through the crowd, every head turned toward the Dragonbone Tower. Thousands strained their necks to catch a glimpse of the royal entourage.

A grand royal carriage rolled forward, flanked by four dragons of different colors circling above. The Kingsguard, resplendent in their armor, led the way, followed by a procession of court officials and members of House Targaryen.

The largest carriage halted in the center of the assembly. Daenerys, regal and composed, stepped out with the assistance of her son Willem. Following her, other dignified women emerged from accompanying carriages: Shinelli, Margaery, Sansa, and Falia, some carrying children, others visibly pregnant. Each was surrounded by attendants and Cupbearers tasked with both protection and service.

From a short distance, Aemon smiled faintly, his aged face alight with satisfaction as he observed Dany and Willem approach the Dragonbone Tower. Connington and Sam stood nearby, similarly absorbed in the moment. The successful completion of the Dragonbone Tower marked a pivotal moment, one that would make the Long Night far more bearable.

"The 'purple flesh' that Viserys returned to us has begun to grow," Sam remarked, his eyes following Dany and her son. "Westeros's ability to endure this endless cold has improved significantly."

As Daenerys ascended the temporary steps leading to the tower, Sam turned to Connington and asked, "Lord Connington, I read that after the dragons became extinct, summers began to shorten. When the Long Night ends, do you think summers will grow longer again?"

"I suppose so," Connington replied, grinning broadly. The Tower's completion had clearly lifted his spirits, even to the point of humor. "You know, Your Grace once told me something quite profound."

Intrigued, Sam asked, "What did Your Grace say?"

Connington's grin widened as he recited, "He said, Winter is here, so can spring be far behind?"

Sam repeated the words to himself, a hopeful warmth spreading within him. Winter is here, so can spring be far behind? It was as though the phrase had blown away his worries like a refreshing spring breeze.

Dany and Willem climbed to the top of the tower, which stood over ten meters tall. The young prince placed his small hand on the Black Dread's skull, the surface warm to the touch, and exclaimed, "It's so warm, Mother!" He leaned forward, attempting to press his cheek against the skull.

Dany, amused by his childish eagerness, gently pulled him back. "You're a prince now, Willem! Behave yourself," she chided lightly, a smile gracing her lips.

Her gaze lingered on her son's golden crown, which sparkled in the light of the engraved runes. The memory of Viserys's words at a banquet in Braavos years ago suddenly resurfaced:

A crown makes the wearer look taller and symbolizes their status, but its true meaning is that when disaster strikes from the sky, I will protect you all and always look upon you with hope.

Now, both Dany and Willem wore crowns. The golden light reflected from the runes on the Black Dread's skull illuminated their faces, mingling with the hope radiating from the gathered commoners and the endless snow around them.

As mother and son placed their hands on the skull together, the runes flared to life, emitting a soft golden glow that bathed the area in light.

"Wow…"

"It's so bright!"

The light wasn't blinding, but in the muted gray of the Long Night, it stood out like a beacon of warmth. Moments later, a wave of heat began to emanate from the tower.

Victoria rolled up her sleeve, extending a hand to feel the rising temperature. Margaery, visibly pregnant, inhaled deeply and smiled as the cold, dry air softened. She glanced down at her son Duncan, wiping his nose as the warmth brought color to his cheeks. Nearby, Aemon, lulled by the heat, looked drowsy, a frequent occurrence of late.

As the heat wave spread, the gathered crowd marveled at the transformation. Sweat began to form on their foreheads, and the snow clinging to the city gate reliefs started to melt. Dripping water was soon audible amidst their awestruck murmurs.

"It's so warm!"

"It's like magic!"

"Feels incredible!"

Just as the atmosphere reached a crescendo of joy, Hermine noticed something in the distance: dragons soaring quickly toward the city from the horizon. At first, her heart lifted—Viserys must have returned! But as she observed their speed and formation, her smile faded.

Something wasn't right.

"Mother! Father's back!" Willem exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the approaching dragons.

Dany, too, turned her attention to the horizon. Her expression grew serious. The number of dragons matched what she expected, but something was amiss. The largest yellow dragon was missing, and a smaller purple dragon had joined the group.

The unease thickened as Hali, riding on a green dragon, bypassed the city walls and landed directly beside Dany—a breach of protocol that underscored the urgency.

Hali dismounted hastily and leaned close to whisper in Dany's ear. Her words sent a chill through Dany despite the warmth of the Dragonbone Tower.

"Your Grace," Hali said, voice taut with urgency, "the White Walkers are coming from the sea!"