The Dragon's Legacy

Chapter Four

"So he left." Aegon said slowly. " Yes Sire he left with the young prince." Orys confirmed with a slight frown, he never held any grudges against the boy. The boy reminded him of himself, especially when Daemion played with his silver head cousins, much like him when he played with Aegon when they were younger.

"Your grace." Orys called out to him. Aegon didn't answer, looking outside of the window of his keep "Aegon." Orys said strictly. "Did I do the right thing Orys?" Aegon asked with a low voice. " I drove them away, I had to." "Did you now?" Orys asked almost sarcastically "Are you trying to say something Orys?" Aegon snapped at his half brother. "If you truly thought this is what Rhaenys would have wanted than you are truly a fool Aegon."

"I had to protect Aenys! Do you think Visneya would let Aenys live now that Maegor has a son?!" Aegon yelled.

"Do you truly take Visenya as a Kinslayer?! She loved Rhaenys more than you did!" And with that Aegon's fist found it's way to Orys's face, knocking him on the ground.

"Don't you dare speak of her you bastard." Aegon yelled. Orys slowly stood up "If that's all your grace." And with that he left the kings chamber.

—

On the other side of the Red Keep, the children of dragon were breaking their fast.

"I will miss cousin." Viserys said. It was only natural, Viserys was nine years of age and the only child close to his age being six year old. "I enjoyed sparring with him." Viserys added, one more memory to chersish. "You always lost to him Viserys." Aegon teased his brother. "He bested you too Aegon!" Viserys said quick, trying to get back at his brother. "Once! And I was ill!" Aegon responded annoyed "Is that why you never sparred with him again? To not lose anymore?" Viserys continued. "Enough, both of you." Rhaena silenced them.

"Yet, with all his strength, he was not confident in his talent." Viserys said, feeling sorry for Daemion. "With a father like uncle Maegor nothing less than perfect would be enough." Aegon said. He couldn't say he knew his uncle well, but he knew his uncle is the greatest warrior of their time. And he will not accept anything less than perfect from his son.

"Uncle is not kind nor considerate... I worry for Daem. What if uncle pushes him too far?"Rhaena asked worriedly. She did not know what answer to expect.

"Your concern for our cousin is touching Rhae almost as if you are fond of him." Viserys teased.
Rhaenas face turned red. "Well father did suggest a betrothal as I recall." Aegon teased. Rhaena's face turned crimson red. "A jest! that's what it was! And you two can burn in the deepest depth of seven hells!" Rhaena said quick to her younger brothers. And stood "I've lost my appetite." And with that she left the chamber.

She was indeed fond of Daemion. She didn't quite understand it herself. She had blamed it on her youth but he was a but a child. But she did feel something for him. What? Perhaps one day she'll find out but today is not that day.

—

Dragonstone was as magnificent as described. But it was not home. He wanted to go back to the Red keep. To grandmother, to uncle, Aegon, Viserys and her.

But time moves on so should he.

—

And with Ser Gawen Corbray blow, Daemion landed on the ground.

Ser Gawen Corbray was considered the deadliest knight of the seven kingdoms, there was no man more suited to the role to train Daemion in Maegors mind. After all Ser Corbray himself had made Maegor the warrior he was today.

Maegor watched from afar as Daemion fought Gawen Corbray. It was more of a beat down truly. Daemion was but a boy and see Gawen was not holding back.

Another blow and Daemion found himself on the ground once more. "Embarrassing. Again." Daemion stood up and yelled "I AM DONE! You do not fight with honor!" "Do you believe it's honour that wins a fight?" Saying that he shoved the tip of his wooden sword in the ground and lay his hands on top of the handle.

"Tell me my prince, do you prefer to have songs written for your honour or you'd rather to make history as you your grandmother before you? Do you believe in 500 years people would remember how brave were then men who fought against your grandfather? Or they'd remember the man who bested all those "brave" men and conquered seven kingdoms?"

"He didn't conquer now did he? He merely bought it with gold." Daemion whispered rather loudly, loud enough for Ser Gawen to hear and laugh "You are smart lad. I'll give you that, but you are a coward."

And with that Daemion grabbed his wooden sword and in a desperate attack, he was counter attacked and Ser Gawen knocked him down with heavy punch in the face.

" I'm no coward!" Daemion yelled. Feeling furry running through him as if it is in his blood.

"Oh but that you are. If not why unlike everyone else in your in your house you shave your head? You almost look like an egg boy."

"You know damn well WHY!" Daemion screamed.

"Spare me your poor excuses. Even lord hand Orys Baratheon grows his hair, and he does not even posses violate eyes." Ser Gawen scoffed.

"But he does not bear the name Targaryen." Daemion said, with a slight tear in his eyes, hoping no one would notice, which fortunately no one did.

"No one will ever forget what is your heads colouring. Wear it like damn armour. Embrace it and no one shall dare to use it against you my prince." With that Ser Gawen offered his hand to Daemion which he accepted.

"Queen Visenya trusted me with you father and your father has trusted me with you." Ser Gawen Corbray patted Daemion's shoulder. "Allow me to make you the greatest swordsman that House Targaryen has or ever will see."

Daemion slowly nodded. Now instead of tears, a look of determination had conquered his face.

Daemion raised his wooden sword. "I will defeat you." "One day my prince. But not today." Ser Gawen said with, one may dare say, a smile. So did Maegor.

Their training lasted whole evening. Daemion tired and frustrated took his shoulder plate off and throw it away.

Ser Gawen watched as he did that. " Remember Young one. The armour doesn't make you a man. It's the man that makes the armour."

—

Each hit threw him on the ground. But for every time he fell, he got back up.

through blood and tear, through pain and sweat he had to become something more.

His bond with Modread gave him the strength. His determination gave him strength. His goal gave him strength.

"... find your strength in me..." Words that echoed in his head.

He will hold on to those words. Always.