Chapter 83: The Return of the Dragons
Three dragons chased one another across the sky, like streaks of silver, purple, and black light mixed with wildfire.
Their figures were swift, crying and cheering as they soared through the air. Rhaegar could clearly feel the joy and exhilaration of the young dragons.
They fought over roasted meat, competing to fly the highest and perform the most difficult aerial maneuvers.
Dragons possessed long, slender necks, fine overlapping scales, and vast wingspans. Legends claimed they were born of fire itself, though Rhaegar did not know why.
"Dragonflame!"
The three young dragons breathed fire together. Flames of different colors blossomed in the sky, beautiful as stars scattered across the night. The fire resembled crimson flowers in full bloom.
Rhaegar felt that the Silver Emperor and its siblings were truly gluttonous. Although they weighed less than beasts of similar size, their appetites were astonishing, sometimes consuming more than their own body weight in a single day.
After growing tired of play, the young dragons began searching for places to rest. The heat within the Purple Dragon Nest had almost been entirely absorbed by them. When time permitted, they would need to travel to Dragonstone.
That night, Rhaegar received a summons from the Red Keep, ordering him to attend a meeting in the Small Council chamber.
The great figures of King's Landing were burdened with heavy responsibilities. The upcoming grand tourney meant excitement, noise, violence, and chaos, making the already strained manpower of the Gold Cloaks seem woefully insufficient.
Rhaegar entered the council chamber, where King Jaehaerys II Targaryen, Prince Aerys Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, Lord Ormund Baratheon, Lord Tywin Lannister, and others were already assembled.
Rhaegar arrived like a silver flame astride his horse. His silver hair and indigo eyes, his handsome yet battle-hardened bearing, and the lingering scent of blood and fire from war and military camps made him appear both dangerous and captivating.
Lord Tywin studied Rhaegar with a sense of resignation. His wife had repeatedly urged him to groom their daughter, Cersei Lannister, to become queen consort. Yet the prospect of marrying the youngest and most dazzling dragon of House Targaryen seemed vanishingly small. There was only one Silver Prince, and he was far too desired. Everyone wanted the crown, but there was only one.
The young women of Dorne and Storm's End both carried dragon blood and were of suitable age. Especially the girl from Storm's End—it was said that nearly the entire court approved of her.
"This tourney celebrates the tenth anniversary of His Grace King Jaehaerys II's ascension, and even more, the reappearance of dragons," Lord Ormund Baratheon spoke first. Though aged, the Lord of Storm's End remained strong of body. "The scale must be grand, but order in King's Landing must be maintained."
Everyone nodded. Westeros was in a period of peace. After the War of the Ninepenny Kings, House Blackfyre had vanished. Across the Narrow Sea, the Daughters of Valyria had long since fragmented after the Dance of the Dragons, their cities turning upon one another. In such a time, a grand tourney to display royal authority was fitting. The only concern lay in the sheer number of attendees and the chaos they would bring.
"The great lords who have confirmed their attendance include Princess of Dorne, Lord Arryn, Warden of the East, with his wife and heir; Lord Stark, Warden of the North, with his wife, eldest son, and second son; Lord Tyrell, Warden of the South, with his wife and eldest son Mace Tyrell; and Lord Tully, Lord Paramount of the Trident, with his lady wife and their eldest daughter, Catelyn Tully," Prince Aerys announced. He would also serve as Grand Master of Ceremonies.
This list included only the Great Houses of Westeros. Powerful lords such as House Hightower and House Redwyne were temporarily omitted. Prince Aerys felt his spirits lifting. Though his own capabilities were limited, he was the father of a dragonrider, which granted him reflected prestige. Moreover, he adored feasts, music, and spectacle.
King Jaehaerys II had appointed Prince Aerys and Queen Rhaella Targaryen as Grand Masters of Ceremonies, placing them in charge of the heralds and guest lists—an arrangement deemed appropriate.
"There are other concerns," Lord Tywin added. "Foreign guests may also arrive, and their reception must be handled carefully. Those from Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh must not be placed together—they will quarrel the moment they meet. Likewise, Braavos, Pentos, and Lorath once formed the Triarchy and fought wars against the Daughters."
These were obvious matters. The Free Cities lacked unity, constantly feuding among themselves. Even Braavos, the most powerful, intervened only to preserve balance and its own supremacy.
Rhaegar silently agreed. Aegon the Conqueror's decision not to provoke Essos had been wise. No ruler could control nine heads that despised one another.
The discussion returned to dragons. The Small Council's question was simple: how many more dragon eggs could hatch?
The answer disappointed them.
Despite King Jaehaerys II ordering dragon eggs placed beside his other grandsons, none had shown any sign of hatching.
Rhaegar found this strange. According to later histories, only Daenerys Targaryen had hatched dragons, yet many dragon eggs and dragonblooded people had existed. Several Targaryen eggs had gone missing, and beyond Daenerys, there had been many dragonseeds.
Perhaps only Daenerys possessed an exceptionally strong dragonlord bloodline. Or perhaps the hatching of these three dragons had not yet triggered a greater magical tide.
Had King Jaehaerys II not personally witnessed Rhaegar's dragons, he would have had little interest in the Return of the Demon Dragons. His own father had perished at Summerhall while pursuing that very dream.
But Rhaegar had succeeded. Dragons had returned—an opportunity of immense historical significance to the Dragonlord dynasty.
"In other words, we possess only three dragons, and all are young?" Lord Ormund frowned. Dragons were valuable, but also vulnerable. Young dragons were small, unstable, and difficult to control. At present, it was people who needed to protect the dragons.
"These are the last three dragons in the world," Lord Tywin said. "They are full of vitality and grow stronger each day. Especially the silver one—it is the fiercest and largest. These are not like the sickly dragons of a century ago. These three are wild, strong, and full of life."
"But Prince Rhaegar commands all three," Lord Ormund said. "Aside from the silver dragon, would the others accept different riders?"
"I doubt it," Rhaegar replied, shaking his head. "They hatched together. They are inseparable, and they obey only me."
The lords exchanged glances. These were the last dragons—and Rhaegar, the last dragonrider. No amount of protection would be excessive.
"We must safeguard these three dragons," King Jaehaerys II said solemnly. "And we still possess many dragon eggs and two young princes. This is a tremendous strategic asset for the future."
In King's Landing, the tourney was about to begin. Colorful banners fluttered above the Dragonpit.
Black banners bearing red dragons. Silver seahorses. Roaring lions. Crowned stags. Grey direwolves of the North.
Commoners and nobles from Westeros and beyond gathered—not only for the tourney, but for the return of dragons.
All eyes turned toward one sealed area: Prince Rhaegar's military camp, rumored to house the dragons. Though the people of King's Landing had heard countless dragon tales, the sight of living dragons ignited awe and terror alike.
Prince Rhaegar led his soldiers from the camp and raised his hand.
The soldiers stood in disciplined ranks, clad in black scale armor beneath banners bearing the black field and red dragon.
A sharp whistle pierced the air.
Three dragons rose from within the camp, circling before descending to land before Prince Rhaegar.
The demon dragons spread their leathery wings, stirring violent gusts of wind.
The crowd held its breath, staring at the silver, black, and purple dragons—the most magnificent creatures in the world.
Though only the size of small calves, their growth was relentless. Soon, they would usher in the true Return of the Demon Dragons. The largest, the silver dragon, already radiated dominance.
"Dragonflame!"
The three dragons leapt skyward once more. Flames of silver-gold, black-red, and violet erupted across the heavens like fireworks.
Once, House Targaryen conquered Westeros with three dragons.
Now, three demon dragons had returned.
The black banner with the red dragon snapped in the wind, and the dragon upon it seemed almost alive.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like the story please give it some power stones and reviews. And if you want to read 40+ advance chapters or just want to support me please join my patreon at [email protected]/Translatingfanfics