High Above the Open Seas
In the skies, three massive figures soared northwest toward King's Landing, with the largest, Vhagar, leading the way. On the mighty dragon's back, a young figure—unusually untethered—paced across Vhagar's scaly back before sitting in the saddle.
Vhagar is an old dragon, thought Aegon the Younger as he observed the seas below. Yet he tolerates my presence, even if he isn't eager for another rider. I could ride with my grandmother or my father, but then I couldn't move around freely. He smiled to himself as he dug his toes in to keep his balance. High above the clouds, he felt exhilarated, weightless.
"Look ahead! The capital is in sight!" his father's voice shouted from nearby. Rising from his saddle, Aegon stretched his wings and gave a sharp whistle, a signal for Vhagar to glide, so he could soar above and take in his first view of King's Landing. The sprawling city below gleamed under the sun, its septs and keeps mere dots, each hinting at the stories they held.
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The Streets of King's Landing
The city buzzed with activity. From the docks to the markets, King's Landing was alive with its usual bustle—until enormous shadows covered the ground. Its people were used to dragons, yet the figure in the sky was far larger than most they had seen. Whispers filled the air as Vhagar circled the capital thrice, roaring loudly and igniting roars from within the Dragonpit itself. Other dragons responded, filling the city with deep echoes that stirred awe and confusion among the people below.
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At the Dragonpit
Three figures awaited the arrival of Daemon and his family. Otto Hightower stood with his son and his grandson, Prince Aegon the Younger. Dressed finely in a green doublet, young Aegon looked every bit the confident prince, standing tall despite his youth. His own dragon awaited him, yet to be ridden because of his age, though he wore the air of one accustomed to command.
"Grandfather, what are they doing?" Aegon asked, watching Vhagar circle the city.
Otto opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a strong gust of wind as two red dragons, Meleys and Caraxes, landed near them. Otto dusted himself off, adjusting his cloak as Daemon dismounted with his usual mirthful expression.
"Where is my brother?" Daemon asked, smiling slightly, his tone half-mocking. His dislike for Otto was no secret.
"The king is occupied, so he sent me to meet you and welcome the young prince," Otto replied, his voice cold.
"Yes, where is my namesake?" the Elder Aegon chimed in, his confidence barely masking his eagerness.
Moments later, an even stronger gust forced those on the ground to shield their eyes as Vhagar finally descended. As the dust settled, a winged figure walked towards them, humming a haunting melody. The sound struck a primal chord in everyone nearby. Aegon the Younger's heartbeat quickened, drawn by something he couldn't name, while Otto and his son fought to hide their unease. To those of Targaryen blood, the song felt like a command, and to others, it invoked an instinctive fear.
Seeing the effect, the winged prince smirked. "I suppose being shirtless is improper," he muttered, stopping his melody as he approached.
Rhaenys, anticipating this, met him halfway, handing him a backless shirt and a trench coat she had commissioned to offer him some modesty in court. As he donned the coat, Aegon turned to his younger namesake with a welcoming smile. "Now that I'm presentable—I am Aegon Targaryen. And you must be my cousin and namesake," he said, embracing the elder Aegon, who seemed taken aback by the imposing figure before him.
"Uh…yes, I am," the younger boy stammered, still processing the other's towering form and sharp features.
Releasing him, Aegon the Elder turned to Otto and his son with a casual glance. "And I suppose you're the 'Lord Cunt' my father complains about," he remarked nonchalantly. Daemon let out a booming laugh, while Rhaenys sighed and gave Aegon a light smack on the back of his head.
"Mind your manners," she chided.
Otto, struggling to conceal his irritation, adjusted his stance, responding coldly, "My prince, I do not appreciate your words."
Aegon looked him up and down, unfazed. "I wasn't asking for appreciation. Now, cousin," he turned to Aegon the Elder, his expression brightening, "how about showing me your dragon? Then we can finally meet my uncle and the rest of the family."
Recovering quickly, the elder Aegon nodded, pride flashing across his face. "Yes, I'd be happy to. I'll have the keepers bring Sunfyre," he said, visibly excited.
With a nod, Aegon the younger followed, eager to see the dragon his cousin was so eager to show off. As he glanced back at Otto, he saw the resentment simmering in the Hand's eyes but thought little of it. He was here for family, and King's Landing would soon see just how formidable the Targaryens could be.