Game of Thrones: The Bronze and Fire Lord

The arrival of the dragon immediately alarmed the entire castle.

The servants hid everywhere, and the soldiers swarmed out.

"Stop, that's Prince Daemon!"

Seeing that there was going to be chaos, Sir Steve shouted again and again.

Facing the dragon, the soldiers were terrified and surrounded it from a distance, not daring to get close.

"What a big dragon, it's worthy of being called Caraxes."

Aemon's eyes only had the "bloodthirsty giant insect", and his breathing became rapid.

As soon as he heard the name, it suited him very well.

"Hiss!"

Caraxes had a rebellious temperament, roaring at the outer soldiers, setting off a second round of hot winds.

In an instant, the whole place was silent.

"Quiet, Caraxes."

The man on the dragon's back looked down and gently patted the dragon's back.

When Aemon looked at him again, he happened to be facing the dazzling sunlight and it was a little unclear.

On the other side, the man on the dragon's back slowly walked down.

The soldiers drew their swords one after another, fearing that the dragon would run away.

Daemon had no scruples. He saw a silver-gold color early on and approached with a clear goal.

"Prince!"

Sir Steve was alert and stood in front of the prince.

Although they were father and son, they had to be on guard.

It was said in the early years that Prince Daemon did not like the son born to his first wife, calling him a dragon cub that would never grow up.

Not long after Lady Rhea gave birth, she turned around and called her son a bastard seed.

The news soon reached the ears of the old King Jaehaerys, who took the newly born prince back to the Red Keep to take care of him.

In a blink of an eye, eight years have passed. Who knows if the father and son can live in peace.

Daemon kept walking and glanced at the white knight indifferently until he could not go any further.

He lowered his head and quietly looked at the only silver-haired boy present.

"Sir, it's okay."

Aemon was very calm and walked from behind to the front.

Less than two feet away, the two Targaryens, one big and one small, looked at each other.

Daemon had a stern face, a tall and thin figure, and wore hard leather armor, revealing a capable temperament.

The most striking thing is that he wore a dead wood crown on his head, and his shoulder-length hair was trimmed to short silver-gold hair.

This made Aemon doubt the purpose of his visit.

He felt guilty about his son.

Or maybe he just came to Runestone City to show off his achievements.

Daemon was also looking at the boy in front of him.

He was of good height, with the handsome appearance of Targaryen, and a little sweat on his forehead from the training.

What satisfied him most was that the little guy was brave and remained calm throughout the whole process.

After a few seconds,

Aemon hesitated and took the initiative to greet him: "Father, hello."

His voice was dry.

There was no emotion, just politeness.

Daemon smiled faintly, glanced at the unique two-point flag among the outer soldiers, and said in High Valyrian: "It seems that you have found a way to get along."

He thought the rumors about King's Landing were false.

What white deer, being crowned prince, being loved...

Is that still his son?

Oh, it turns out that he is precocious.

Aemon raised his eyebrows and spoke in High Valyrian: "You are wearing a crown."

"You are already a prince, I can't just stand still."

Daemon had a smile in his eyes, and he was quite satisfied with his son.

He was proficient in Valyrian.

Not only was it easy to communicate, but it also enhanced feelings.

Aemon opened his mouth, there was nothing to say.

Could it be that he was personally conferred the title by his uncle?

And you are wearing a crown, my dear uncle, your good brother, do you know about this?

Daemon didn't know his son's little tricks, looked around at the soldiers on standby, and said calmly: "You are the master here, why don't you take me as a guest?"

He changed the subject very abruptly.

Aemon didn't say much, turned around and led the way.

He looked calm, but secretly relieved in his heart.

Facing his father Daemon, it would be a lie to say that he was not nervous.

The father and son have known each other for eight years, and the number of times they have met can be counted on one hand.

Before the meeting, he had imagined various situations.

The other party didn't like him and said something hurtful.

Or they would dislike each other and cause some family disputes.

Fortunately, Daemon acted like a father and treated him well.

There was no need for the father to divorce the son.

…

In the spacious hall.

"My husband, what brings you to the valley?"

Lady Rhea sat in the main seat and asked curiously, "Finally remembered that you still have a family, and ran back to reunite with your family?"

Daemon stood in the hall with a cold expression.

Lady Rhea raised her swan neck proudly and said sarcastically, "Although I don't want to, the goats in the valley may be able to."

"After all, our sheep are more beautiful, you can pick any nest to keep warm."

These are all insults that the other party has said.

As the family motto of the Royce family, "We remember."

Daemon listened to everything, shifted his gaze elsewhere, and a contemptuous arc appeared at the corner of his mouth.

If it weren't for seeing his son, he would indeed prefer to find a goat to hug and sleep.

Aemon was right next to him, and he was stunned at the moment.

My mother is very aggressive, which is completely opposite to her usual frugal appearance.

Yes, Lady Rhea is still outputting.

She looked up at the crown on her husband's head, her eyes were full of hostility, and she laughed, "I heard that you won the war, but you didn't throw yourself into your brother's warm embrace, and chose to stay in the Stepstones to play house?"

A remote place where no one lives.

The other party actually thought that by occupying there, they could be on an equal footing with the king's brother.

What a joke.

Daemon remained silent, just glanced at his son next to him, his expression unclear.

"What is your purpose in coming to Runestone City?"

Lady Rhea restrained herself a little and said vigilantly, "Are you here to show off your ridiculous crown, or to take away your bloodline?"

She knew her husband too well.

He would not set foot in the valley without a reason.

It must be said that women's intuition is very accurate.

Daemon raised his head, his eyes completely on his son, and said lightly, "You are well-educated, and you look like a Targaryen."

"Haha, hearing compliments from your mouth is like a dog changing its diet to eat shit."

Lady Rhea sneered and spoke in a sarcastic tone.

Daemon looked down on her and turned to walk out: "I'll leave my son to you. The valley is more suitable for him."

After that, he called Aemon: "Take me out for a walk. I can't breathe in this castle that smells of sheep dung."

"Daemon, he is my son and will never leave with you."

Lady Rhea said.

Daemon turned a deaf ear and strode out of the door.

Seeing that his mother did not stop him, Aemon pondered for a moment and followed his father Daemon's footsteps.

The couple are not compatible, so it is better to keep a distance.

As soon as he went out, he saw Daemon took a deep breath and cursed: "Bitch!"

Aemon: ...

You are worthy of you, a living father!

You are really sweet.

Daemon was suppressed enough and did not have a big quarrel in front of his son.

It's almost red.

...

Outside the Runestone City.

Two silver-haired figures, one big and one small, walked together on the green grass.

The father and son were not familiar with each other, and neither of them said a word. The more they walked, the more silent they became.

"Hiss... Gah..."

Caraxes lay crouched not far away, with his slender neck raised high, watching with great interest.

Aemon looked over at the sound, and a trace of envy flashed in his eyes.

Among all the dragons he had seen, Caraxes was definitely a giant dragon.

Its size was much larger than Syrax.

Even compared with the older Dreamfyre, its size was not inferior at all.

Thanks to its slender body that was as flexible as a snake, its length was even longer, reaching an astonishing 60 meters.

With a pair of wide blood-red wings, it was simply a nightmare for ground enemies.

"Do you like it?"

Daemon suddenly asked.

Aemon was startled when he heard it, and replied: "It's huge and fierce."

"Targaryen men should get in touch with dragons earlier."

Daemon nodded slightly and changed direction with his feet.

Aemon was delighted and followed closely.

"Hiss!"

Caraxes roared, and his huge body swayed slightly.

Daemon walked to the ferocious dragon head and stretched out his hand: "Come, give me your hand."

Aemon did as he was told.

Daemon didn't say anything, holding his small hand with red marks from sword practice, and pressed it against the side of the dragon head covered with scarlet scales.

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