ASOIAF: The True House of Dragons

A blinding flash of lightning exploded across the dueling ground, blasting a shallow crater into the earth. The nearby soil was instantly scorched black.

Aegon and Argilac, the Storm King, were hurled backward by the sheer force of the impact.

Aegon slowly pulled himself from the mud. For a moment he just stared at the smoking pit before him, dazed, then lifted his gaze toward the stormclouds above, disbelief etched across his face. That bolt—how had it struck the ground between them, and not the two "iron-clad" warriors locked in battle?

Argilac lay where he'd landed, motionless.

Seeing this, his adviser, Evenstar Selder, rushed forward to lift the old king's head—but Argilac lashed out, slapping his hand away with a sharp, violent strike.

The Storm King stared skyward, howling incoherently. His fists clenched and slammed again and again into the sodden ground.

Selder could only step back in silence.

Orys approached Aegon and asked quietly, "Your Grace, what now? Do we press the attack?"

Aegon exhaled heavily, wiping the rain from his face. He simply stared at Argilac, now pounding the mud like a tantruming child, and slowly shook his head.

After a while, Argilac seemed to surrender to fate. The old king stopped thrashing. He lay in the muck, gazing up into the curtain of falling rain, unfazed as the water pooled in his eyes.

Targaryen soldiers began murmuring among themselves. Some could already sense how this war would end, and murmurs turned to whispers of excitement.

The Stormlands warriors, by contrast, stood silent and still in the rain, heads bowed, looking like broken men.

Defeat meant the end of the Storm Kingdom. Grief hung thick in the air, as rain and tears mingled freely on every face.

Princess Argella emerged from the crowd and ran forward. The hem of her once-white silk gown was soaked in mud, and the rain had plastered her clothes to her body, outlining her graceful figure.

She dropped to her knees in front of the Storm King and knelt beside Argilac's head, gently stroking his bearded face, overcome with sobs.

The Storm King stirred, his voice hoarse and quiet as he looked to the sky and asked, "Why, Janna?"

Argella slowly shook her head, offering no reply.

"Why didn't you strike Aegon down? I chose this storm for you—to unleash your divine power at its peak. Don't you see? You've destroyed the Stormlands!"

Argilac's voice grew louder, angrier. He seized his daughter's pale arm and shook it violently. His eyes were wide with fury, brimming with tears—though whether from sorrow or rain, none could say.

"You're the traitor who killed the Stormlands! You ended a legacy that stood for thousands of years! You're a disgrace to every soul in the Stormlands—"

Argella collapsed against his chestplate, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to speak.

Aegon brought his sword crashing into the ground beside them, silencing Argilac's tirade. He stepped forward, towering over the old king, and said coldly, "Remember this: this is not your daughter's fault.

The Targaryen dynasty unifying Westeros is the will of the times. Did you think having her strike me down with lightning would save the Stormlands?

Dragons have three heads. Even if I fall, my two queens will avenge me.

Can you make it rain every day for the rest of your life?"

Argilac was struck dumb, his mouth half open, staring blankly up at the dark clouds above.

At that moment, Evenstar Selder of the Stormlands knelt before Aegon. Turning to the old king, he said, "His Grace Aegon speaks true. This is fate.

Even a storm can't defeat the Dragonlord.

We concede defeat. We, House Tarth of Evenfall Hall, will honor our vow and recognize His Grace Aegon as the rightful King of Westeros."

"You!!!" Argilac glared furiously at his captain of the guard.

Aegon was quietly pleased. He remembered Selder—back during the Battle of Rhoss Island in the War of Volantis, Aegon had saved his life while riding Balerion. A man who remembers such debts is one worth keeping.

Selder's act stirred the rest of the Stormland lords. One after another, they knelt before Aegon and pledged their allegiance.

Argilac struggled upright, trembling with rage, pointing at his kneeling vassals. He tried to speak, to shout them down—but no words came.

At last, his hand dropped, limp. He closed his eyes and slammed his fists into the muddy earth again and again.

Aegon stood over him, waiting patiently for the Storm King to surrender.

"Since you've all chosen to submit to the Targaryen dynasty, I won't stop you..." Argilac rose from the ground and walked alone off the battlefield. "I'll pass the crown to Argella. I won't let the Stormlands, the legacy of my ancestors, die in my hands."

He paused, then turned to glance at Aegon with a sideward smirk. "And don't you forget—you promised me a Dragonseed."

Aegon could only stare at the old fox strutting off with a shake of his head.

Then he bent down and lifted Princess Argella into his arms, holding her tightly and showing her off to the Targaryen soldiers as his "prize."

The moment their skin touched, Aegon used his chip to scan Argella's unique talent.

[C-rank – Storm God's Blood: In stormy weather, you gain the ability to control storms. The strength of your control scales with your mental power; Mental Power +10.]

Same C-rank as mine, but bound to specific weather. Still—deadly strong, Aegon thought.

As he held Princess Argella, the Targaryen warriors erupted into cheers. Even Stormlands soldiers shouted in excitement, thrilled to serve a king so bold and valiant.

Aegon had defeated the Storm King in single combat, won the hearts of the enemy's troops with his sharp words, and even captivated the Storm Princess with his looks. In every way, he embodied the might and charisma of a true king. Naturally, he had earned the allegiance of the Stormlands.

Cheers roared in wave after wave, each louder than the last.

Aegon carried Princess Argella toward Storm's End. She clung to him tightly, arms wrapped around his neck, face buried in his chest, letting this strong man bear her weight.

Despite the pouring rain, the people of Storm's End poured from the gates, lining the streets to witness this epic moment.

It was clear: the Dragonlord's legendary conquest would be immortalized in history and sung by countless bards for generations to come.

Having conquered a foreign king and claimed the heart of a princess, Aegon now strode like a demigod of the Age of Heroes—bathed in legend.

The Stormland vassals watched Aegon carry their princess through the gates of their stronghold, and could not help but admire his courage. Just moments ago he was locked in deadly battle—now he walked boldly into his enemy's fortress. Such daring was beyond anything they had ever seen.

That night, Aegon entered Storm's End and personally washed the mud from Princess Argella's delicate body. Her cheeks flushed red as she lowered her head, allowing him to cleanse her in silence. The air was thick with tension and intimacy—only the sound of water and their quickened breath remained in the chamber.

Later, in Argella's beautifully adorned bedchamber, the two were consumed in a deep and passionate union.

Aegon had once promised the Storm King that he would not marry Argella—only give her a child. There was no need for formalities.

Storm's End itself was a towering and majestic stronghold, rising straight into the sky.

Massive battlements crowned its summit, and from afar, the fortress looked like a colossal spiked fist punching toward the heavens—unyielding, defiant, and indomitable.

Its footprint was not as expansive as Dragonstone, home of House Targaryen, but it was built with unparalleled solidity. Every wall and structure was formed from stone blocks weighing tens of tons. One could only wonder how the ancients of the Age of Heroes had managed to move such titanic stone.

Aegon and the Targaryen army remained at Storm's End for a few days to rest. During that time, Argilac never once came to see Aegon. It was said the old king had locked himself in his bedchamber, refusing all visitors save for meals.

The next time Aegon saw him was at the ceremony where Argilac passed the throne to his daughter.

The old king personally placed the crown—passed down through his line for thousands of years—on Argella's head. He stared at it with deep sorrow, and at last, unable to contain his grief, broke down in tears.

He waved off his former retainers who tried to comfort him, and left the great hall alone—departing Storm's End.

Determined to leave the land of his heartbreak behind, Argilac boarded a ship to Volantis that same day, where he would join Aegon's father, Aerion, to serve as a permanent member of the Federal Council.

Argella remained standing where she was, watching her father's lonely figure fade into the distance. Her heart swirled with complex emotion. She understood the pain and helplessness in her father's heart—and the weight that came with this transfer of power.

The old king's silhouette finally vanished at the far end of the hall.

Argella turned her gaze to Aegon, eyes full of resolve. She knew the burden she was about to bear. Though some fear lingered in her heart, it was outmatched by her determination.

Queen Argella of the Stormlands stepped forward with elegant poise, approaching Aegon as he stood observing the ceremony.

In that moment, the grand hall fell utterly silent. Everyone present—whether they were lords of the Stormlands or bannermen of House Targaryen—held their breath in anticipation of what was to come.

Argella's ornate robes swayed gently with each graceful step. When she reached Aegon, she knelt before him.

Then, slowly, she lifted her fair, slender hands and raised the Storm Crown high—offering it up like a sacred tribute to the gods.

Aegon leaned forward slightly and solemnly accepted the crown she presented. He placed it carefully on the raised platform to the side.

He extended his hand once more, helping Argella to her feet, and smiled.

"From this day forward, you are the Lady of the Stormlands. May you uphold the laws of House Targaryen and guard this land in its name."

"I shall obey Your Grace's will. House Durrandon will forever be loyal to you and your kingdom, my king." Argella bowed her head and offered a graceful curtsy.

Aegon wrapped an arm around Argella's slender waist, and the two walked side by side toward the Storm Throne.

Once seated upon the throne, Argella nestled quietly into Aegon's embrace.

The lords of the Stormlands knelt on one knee before them, heads bowed. Each laid their sword before them, hilts turned toward Aegon and Argella—a symbol of offering their strength and allegiance.

Together, they proclaimed, "To His Grace King Aegon and Her Highness Princess Argella, we swear upon our blood and souls: eternal loyalty to the Targaryen dynasty, eternal loyalty to our liege lords of House Durrandon. May the king's light guide our way forward, and may the wisdom of the princess lead us in protecting our homeland."

Aegon swept his gaze across the assembled vassals and responded firmly, "Your loyalty honors me. I hope we'll stand together in days to come. May the banner of House Targaryen forever fly over the Stormlands. Let our alliance be as unshakable as Storm's End itself."

The nobles shouted in unison, "May the glory of House Targaryen shine eternal over the Stormlands! May our loyalty be recorded in the pages of history!"

...

After the oath ceremony concluded in triumph, Aegon held three days of grand celebration within Storm's End.

During that time, he and Lady Argella reveled in a newfound closeness, indulging in the joys of their union.

Aegon remembered well the promise he had made to the old Storm King: to give House Durrandon a Dragonseed and preserve the legacy of Storm's End. He devoted himself fully to this purpose, leaving nothing to chance.

But the wheel of fate continued to turn, and sweet days pass swiftly.

Only a few days later, Aegon received several critical messages at Storm's End—each one bearing great consequence for the Targaryen conquest.

First: the Kingdom of the Reach and the Kingdom of the Rock had officially announced an alliance. Together, they vowed to resist the advance of the Targaryen dynasty.

Second: the Kingdom of the North had gathered its forces in the Neck to counter the Targaryen threat. King Torrhen Stark personally led thirty thousand men, preparing to march south.

The Neck bordered the Riverlands—its defense was intertwined with the region. With the Riverlands already under Targaryen control, the Neck now lay vulnerable.

Yet despite the North's seemingly aggressive stance, it posed the least actual danger. Torrhen and Aegon had long come to a secret understanding and planned to stage a show of unity—of wise kings and loyal subjects—along the banks of the Trident.

Third: Houses Hightower and Tyrell from the Reach each sent envoys to Aegon, seeking secret alliances with House Targaryen. It was clear both families hoped to benefit from the upheaval sweeping Westeros.

Fourth: pirates from the Stepstones had begun raiding the coast of Cape Wrath, while Dornish raiders emerged from the Red Mountains, harassing the Dornish Marches. Aegon dispatched his newly appointed Admiral, Corlys Velaryon, to root them out. Corlys, younger brother of the fallen Aethan and second son of Daemon Velaryon, would carry out the mission with support from the Federal Council.

...

Fifth: unrest had erupted in the Vale—sparked by a plot from the Dowager Queen.

The Three Sisters had risen in rebellion. The so-called "Sistermen" renounced their fealty to the Eyrie and crowned Lady Marla Sunderland as their queen. The young King Ronnel Arryn now faced threats from without and rebellion from within.

Queen Sharra Arryn had mustered troops at the Bloody Gate to hold off Queen Rhaenys and her dragon, Meraxes. But her defenses were little more than a spider's web in the face of a King-tier Dragon. When the gate fell, Queen Sharra and her son retreated to the Eyrie to regroup.

The Vale, beset by internal unrest and outside pressure, was now in a crisis similar to that which had befallen the Iron Kingdom under Black Harren.

To avoid repeating the Iron King's fate, Queen Sharra devised a different approach—one that relied on charm rather than steel.

She had a carefully chosen half-nude portrait of herself sent to Aegon. In it, she appeared like a blooming rose—radiant and seductive. Along with it came an offer of marriage, on the condition that King Aegon recognize Ronnel as his heir.

In her youth, Sharra had been known across the Seven Kingdoms as the "Flower of the Mountains"—a beauty unmatched.

Though time had touched her features, it had only deepened her allure with a graceful maturity. Her portrait was eventually delivered to Storm's End, and upon seeing it, Aegon found her appearance indeed beautiful—curvaceous and regal.

Sharra Arryn was ten years Aegon's senior, and had just turned twenty-four—an age of perfect elegance and strength.

Aegon resolved to ride Balerion to the Vale—not out of desire for Sharra's beauty, but to swiftly subdue the kingdom and proceed with the plan he had arranged with Torrhen Stark.

The united forces of the Reach and the Rock were already gathering, pressing closer and closer to King's Landing along the Blackwater Rush. If the Conquest was to succeed, its pace had to accelerate.