A Crown for Aegon (ChatGPT)

[The royal chambers buzzed with quiet urgency as King Aegon VI adjusted his ceremonial crown before the gilded mirror. Queen Rhaella stood nearby, smoothing the intricate embroidery of her violet gown while servants flitted about with last-minute preparations.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (adjusting Aegon's collar) "Ten years. Can you believe it's been a decade since we stood in the throne room with Father's crown slipping over your ears?"

KING AEGON VI: (chuckling) "At least this one fits properly. Though I'd trade it all for one more hour in Summerhall's gardens before—"

[A sharp knock interrupted them. The doors swung open to reveal Lord Tywin Lannister, his emerald-studded Hand's pin catching the light.]

LORD TYWIN: "Your Graces. The Great Hall awaits only your presence. Prince Rhaegar has already begun entertaining the Martells with his harp."

KING AEGON VI: (grinning) "Gods help us. Last time he played for Doran Martell, we nearly had a Dornish incident."

QUEEN RHAELLA: (patting Aegon's arm) "At least Daeron is keeping Cersei occupied with guild ledgers by the looks of it."

[Through the open doorway, the distant sounds of celebration drifted in—clinking goblets, laughter, and the occasional off-key note from Rhaegar's performance.]

LORD TYWIN: (dryly) "And Prince Daemon has already bet three lords that he can drink Oberyn Martell under the table."

KING AEGON VI: (sighing) "Why am I not surprised?"

[As they moved toward the door, Rhaella paused to straighten the silver-and-ruby necklace at her throat—a gift from Aegon after Daeron's birth.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: "Do you think they suspect? About the betrothals?"

KING AEGON VI: (offering his arm) "Rhaegar's been reciting Dornish poetry for weeks, Daeron hasn't stopped reciting trade tariffs since Cersei arrived, and Alyssa keeps 'accidentally' spilling wine on Stannis. I'd say they know."

[Tywin held the door as the royal couple stepped into the torchlit corridor, where the sounds of merriment grew louder. Somewhere below, a crash followed by Daemon's uproarious laughter suggested the drinking contest had begun in earnest.]

LORD TYWIN: (deadpan) "Shall we rescue the realm from your children, Your Graces?"

KING AEGON VI: (laughing) "Lead on, my Hand. But first—someone find me a barrel of whatever Oberyn and Daemon are drinking. I've a feeling I'll need it."

[As they approached the grand staircase leading to the celebration, the weight of a decade's rule settled comfortably on Aegon's shoulders—not as heavy as the crown, but far sweeter.]

[The palace courtyard glittered with lantern light as the royal procession descended the marble steps. Nobles from every corner of Westeros stood in hushed anticipation, their jewels and silks shimmering beneath the stars. King Aegon VI and Queen Rhaella moved with practiced grace toward the flower-strewn dais where their children stood in a nervous line—Rhaegar fiddling with his sleeve, Daeron standing stiffly, Daemon grinning like a fool, and Alyssa rolling her eyes at them all.]

KING AEGON VI: (raising his hands) "My lords and ladies! Ten years ago, we began rebuilding a realm shattered by fire. Tonight, we celebrate not just a decade of peace—but the future of our dynasty!"

[A polite smattering of applause. Prince Oberyn Martell, already three cups deep, whooped loudly from the Dornish contingent.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (stepping forward) "It is our joy to announce the betrothals of our children—matches that will strengthen the bonds between our great houses."

[The courtyard tensed. Cersei Lannister's emerald eyes gleamed like a cat spotting prey, while Stannis Baratheon looked as if he'd swallowed a lemon. Elia Martell gently touched Rhaegar's arm in reassurance.]

KING AEGON VI: "Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, our heir, shall wed Princess Elia of Dorne—"

[Wild cheers erupted from the Martell contingent. Oberyn nearly toppled a serving girl as he lunged forward to clap Rhaegar on the back. The prince turned scarlet as Elia curtsied with perfect poise.]

PRINCE OBERYN: (laughing) "Finally! Now we can teach you to drink proper Dornish wine, bookworm!"

PRINCE DAEMON: (stage whispering) "Seven hells, Rhaegar, she's clearly marrying you out of pity."

[Laughter rippled through the crowd as Aegon continued.]

KING AEGON VI: "Prince Daeron shall wed Lady Cersei Lannister—"

[Tywin's satisfied smirk could've curdled milk. Cersei swept forward with a predator's grace, kissing Daeron's cheek as he stood frozen like a deer in torchlight.]

CERSEI LANNISTER: (sweetly) "Don't look so thrilled, my prince. I promise to only correct your sums most of the time."

PRINCE DAERON: (muttering) "I'm doomed."

[Even Lord Tywin chuckled at that. Queen Rhaella hurried to announce the next match before chaos erupted.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: "Princess Alyssa shall wed Stannis Baratheon—"

PRINCESS ALYSSA: (grabbing a wine cup) "To my future husband—may your personality eventually match your eyebrows in liveliness!"

[The crowd roared as Stannis turned an impressive shade of red. Robert Baratheon nearly fell off his bench laughing, while Steffon buried his face in his hands.]

KING AEGON VI: (rubbing his temples) "And Prince Daemon shall wed Lady Ashara Dayne—"

PRINCE DAEMON: (swooping Ashara into a dip) "My lady, I vow to be almost as beautiful as you by our wedding day!"

[Ashara's melodic laughter rang out as she swatted his shoulder. The Starfall contingent looked equal parts horrified and amused.]

PRINCE OBERYN: (raising his cup) "To House Targaryen—may your marriages be as fiery as your dragons!"

[As the toast echoed through the courtyard, Aegon leaned close to Rhaella, whispering over the din.]

KING AEGON VI: "Well, my love. We've either secured the realm's future or doomed it to chaos."

QUEEN RHAELLA: (watching Daemon attempt to balance a wine cup on his head) "Oh, definitely chaos."

[The celebration swirled around them—a whirlwind of music, clinking goblets, and the beginning of a new era. Somewhere in the crowd, a bet was already being placed on which couple would cause the first scandal.]

[The morning sun bathed the courtyard in golden light as nobles queued to present their gifts. King Aegon VI and Queen Rhaella sat upon their twin thrones, their children arrayed behind them—Rhaegar stifling yawns from last night's revelry, Daemon still nursing a hangover, and Alyssa gleefully recounting Stannis's horrified expression when she'd kissed him full on the mouth during the betrothal announcement.]

LORD TYWIN: (presenting an ornate chest) "From Casterly Rock—a complete set of Valyrian steel cutlery for Your Grace's table."

KING AEGON VI: (raising an eyebrow) "Only you, Tywin, would gift knives and call it diplomacy."

[The procession continued—Dornish spices from the Martells, a Stark-forged greatsword, Baratheon stag antlers the size of a small child. Then the crowd parted as a massive, sweating Pentoshi merchant waddled forward, his golden robes straining over his belly.]

ILLYRIO MOPATIS: (booming) "Magnificences! For the dragonlords who have everything... I bring what was lost!"

[With a dramatic flourish, his servants unveiled a black iron chest. The moment the lid creaked open, a collective gasp rippled through the courtyard. Three fossilized dragon eggs gleamed in the sunlight—one deep scarlet, another cream with gold veins, the last a haunting midnight blue.]

PRINCE DAEMON: (lurching forward) "Bloody hells! Are those—?"

PRINCE RHAEGAR: (reverently touching the scarlet egg) "Dragon eggs... genuine dragon eggs..."

[A stunned silence fell. Queen Rhaella's hands trembled as she reached out, then hesitated.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (whispering) "Aegon... these have been lost since the Dance..."

[The king's violet eyes narrowed as he studied Illyrio's too-innocent smile.]

KING AEGON VI: "Nothing so precious comes without price, Magister. What does Pentos want in return?"

ILLYRIO: (spreading jeweled hands) "Only friendship! A trade agreement, perhaps? The honor of saying Illyrio Mopatis restored dragons to Westeros?"

[Behind the thrones, Prince Daeron muttered to Cersei:]

PRINCE DAERON: "He wants tariff exemptions. I'd stake the royal treasury on it."

CERSEI LANNISTER: (smirking) "Finally, something interesting happens at court."

[King Aegon rose slowly, circling the eggs like a wolf assessing a trap. The crowd held its breath.]

KING AEGON VI: "We accept your gift, Magister... and your trade proposal. Though if these eggs hatch, history will remember it as House Targaryen's doing—not Pentos's."

[Illyrio's smile never faltered as he bowed deeply. The children crowded around the eggs—Alyssa poking the blue one experimentally, Daemon trying to lift the heaviest, Rhaegar staring as if in a trance.]

PRINCE RHAEGAR: (softly) "Dreamfyre's clutch... they must be..."

PRINCE OBERYN: (grinning) "Well? When do we get to see you lot sit on them like broody hens?"

[Laughter erupted, breaking the tension. As servants carried the eggs toward the throne room, Aegon caught Rhaella's hand beneath their robes.]

KING AEGON VI: (quietly) "Either we've just been given a miracle... or the most dangerous bargaining chip in the realm."

QUEEN RHAELLA: (watching their children's awestruck faces) "Let's hope our ancestors were right about blood and fire."

[The celebration resumed, but now with a crackling undercurrent—the unspoken question hanging over every toast and dance: After a century and a half, could dragons truly return to Westeros?]

[The king's private chambers were bathed in flickering torchlight as Aegon and Rhaella stood over the three dragon eggs resting on velvet cushions. The distant sounds of the ongoing celebration drifted through the balcony doors—laughter, music, the occasional drunken shout. The eggs seemed to drink in the firelight, their stony surfaces shimmering with hidden depths.]

KING AEGON VI: (running fingers over the scarlet egg) "Dreamfyre's last clutch, if the maesters are right. Laid the year the Dance ended."

QUEEN RHAELLA: (cradling the cream-and-gold egg) "Do you think they remember fire? Or have they been sleeping too long?"

[A tense silence stretched between them. Somewhere below, Prince Daemon's uproarious laughter echoed—likely having convinced Oberyn Martell to do something foolish.]

KING AEGON VI: "The old texts mention two ways. The slow path—keeping them close, waiting for a dragon's soul to wake them naturally. Or..."

QUEEN RHAELLA: (sharply) "Blood and fire. Like the tales of Aerea and her stolen hatchling."

[The unspoken horror hung between them—Summerhall's tragedy, the cost of playing with forces no one truly understood.]

KING AEGON VI: (firmly) "No sacrifices. Not after what happened to Father and Grandfather. We try the old way first—you and I."

[He lifted the scarlet egg with reverence, pressing it against his chest where his doublet bore the three-headed dragon sigil.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (smiling faintly) "You look ridiculous. Like a broody hen sitting a clutch."

KING AEGON VI: (grinning) "Says the woman cradling hers like a babe."

[They settled onto the great canopied bed, the midnight blue egg between them. The distant celebration continued—glass clinking, a bard's off-key song about the Doom of Valyria.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (quietly) "What if they don't hatch for us?"

KING AEGON VI: (watching torchlight dance across the shells) "Then we give them to the children. Rhaegar first—he's got the most Targaryen in him, despite his bookishness."

QUEEN RHAELLA: (snorting) "Gods help us if Daemon gets one. He'll name it something obscene and teach it to steal smallclothes from the laundry."

[They laughed together, the sound mingling with the distant revelry. As the hour grew late, Rhaella rested her head against Aegon's shoulder, the eggs warm between them.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (murmuring) "Do you think they dream? The dragons inside?"

KING AEGON VI: (watching the play of shadows on the ceiling) "If they do, I hope they dream of clear skies and endless hunting grounds. Westeros could use that kind of fire again."

[As the last of the celebration's noise faded into the predawn hush, the eggs lay nestled between the king and queen—waiting, as they had for over a century, for the right moment to wake.]