[POV: Prince Raegon]
King Jaehaerys I, the Conciliator, was a man of peace. He built roads and laws, not kingdoms with fire and blood. But even in his old age, his mind was sharp, his senses aware of the magic in his House. From the moment Prince Raegon was born, Jaehaerys felt something truly unique about his great-grandson.
Raegon, for his part, naturally spent a lot of time with the Old King. Jaehaerys was a steady presence, full of old wisdom. More importantly, he was the only one in the Red Keep whose presence didn't fill Raegon's mind with the chatter of animals. The King treated him not just as a child, but as a young man with an old soul, discussing serious matters and history in hushed tones as they walked the castle gardens.
When Raegon was ten years old, Queen Alysanne, the Good Queen, passed away. Her death hit King Jaehaerys hard, leaving him deeply sorrowful and the court heavy with grief. Raegon, watching his great-grandfather, felt the pang of loss. He knew this would further hasten the Old King's decline. The absence of the Good Queen was a wound the King would never truly heal from.
One particularly cold autumn evening, with the wind howling like a hungry wolf around the Red Keep, Raegon went to see the King in his solar. Jaehaerys sat by a roaring fire, bent but still alert, reading an old Valyrian book.
"Great-Grandfather," Raegon began, his voice calm and mature for his age. "I... I've been having dreams."
Jaehaerys slowly put down his book, his eyes, the color of old amethyst, fixing on Raegon. "Dragon dreams, boy? You have the blood for them, purer than any in a century. Tell me." There was no surprise in his voice, just quiet expectation. He seemed to have known about Raegon's abilities, or at least suspected them deeply.
Raegon sat on a low stool by the fire. He had planned this for years. He couldn't reveal everything, not yet. The White Walkers, the literal end of the world, would sound like madness. But the civil war… the Dance of the Dragons… that was a more immediate, understandable threat, and one he could try to prevent.
"They aren't just dreams," Raegon said, choosing his words carefully. "They're clear. Too clear. I see visions of the future. I see a time, not far from now, when the dragons… they will dance."
[POV: King Jaehaerys I]
Jaehaerys leaned forward, his face serious. "The Dance of the Dragons. Our histories speak of such. A time of great trouble for our House, a warning from the past." He remembered the legends, the dark tales of Targaryen fighting Targaryen. But for Raegon to see it as a future event… that sent a chill down his aged spine.
"Not the past, Great-Grandfather," Raegon said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The future. I see fire and blood, but not against our enemies. Against ourselves. Dragon against dragon." The boy described burning cities, shattered House Targaryen, omitting specific names, but the images were vivid. Jaehaerys saw the devastation in his mind's eye. "The trouble starts now, in the quiet whispers, in the resentments. The fight for power, the questions about who is truly in charge… it will break us."
Jaehaerys listened, his face growing paler. His eyes, fixed on Raegon, seemed to see the horrors Raegon described. He knew how easily his House could turn on itself. He had spent his long life trying to prevent it. The passing of his beloved Alysanne, the recent loss of his son Baelon, had left him feeling the fragility of life and the realm. This vision from his great-grandson was a bitter truth.
"This isn't just a dream, boy," Jaehaerys said at last, his voice raspy. "This is a vision. A true warning. You have a gift, Raegon, a sacred trust. How can we stop this... this madness?" He looked at Raegon, seeing not just a child, but a possible savior.
[POV: Prince Raegon]
Raegon looked into the ancient King's eyes, seeing not just a monarch, but a worried great-grandfather, a man burdened by duty. "It will need foresight, Great-Grandfather. It will need… strong decisions. And a clear line of succession." He hinted at the solution he knew was needed: a definitively settled succession. He couldn't directly say, "You must name me heir after father and betroth me to Rhaenyra," but he could plant the idea firmly in the King's mind.
[POV: King Jaehaerys I]
Jaehaerys closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He was a King who valued peace above all else. He had worked to avoid conflict his entire life. The vision of his house destroying itself was a bitter truth. He placed a trembling hand on Raegon's shoulder. "You are truly a dragon's son, Raegon. And perhaps, the hope this realm will need. I understand now. Your words… they have shown me a path." He knew what he had to do. His duty was to the realm and to House Targaryen, even from his deathbed.
[End POV: King Jaehaerys I]