Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day - Chapter 261: The Sea Snake and Daemon’s Collusion

Rhaegar’s eyes sharpened as he grew wary of the dragon he had never seen before. Any dragon not under Targaryen control was a potential disaster.

The battle in the clouds intensified, dragon flames piercing the sky. A cold feeling crept into Rhaegar’s heart as he tried to shift his gaze. He possessed the rare gift of Dreamscape, which allowed him to explore the secrets hidden within his dreams.

But his vision moved only slightly upward and then stopped beneath the clouds. It was as if some unseen force was preventing him from seeing the truth above.

“Roar!”

“Roar…”

Suddenly, several dragon roars rang out, converging from different directions. Rhaegar turned his head to see a group of unfamiliar dragons flying toward each other, spitting dragonfire in a fierce aerial battle.

These dragons of varying sizes clashed violently across the vast sea.

“Roar!”

A giant dragon suddenly swooped over Rhaegar’s head, releasing a pillar of dragonfire. Rhaegar’s heart raced and he instinctively raised his hand to block it.

Boom…

A thunderous roar echoed through the sky as the wind howled and the sky darkened.

When Rhaegar opened his eyes, the dragons were gone.

“Dragons…” Rhaegar muttered in confusion, scanning the sky for any sign of them.

A meteor streaked across the sky like a fiery ball, followed by a dense stream of falling stars.

Simultaneously, a snowflake landed on Rhaegar’s eyelashes. In an instant, snow covered the sky, and the sea below froze into a solid expanse of ice.

The meteor shower continued, crashing into the frozen sea, sending up waves of ice and frigid water.

…

Outside the Hot Spring

“Princess, the prince is bathing inside. You cannot enter.”

A dissuasive voice tried to reason.

“Get out of the way. There is no place in Rhaegar’s territory I cannot enter.”

The protest fell on deaf ears as someone shoved the speaker aside. The white stone entrance was covered with a beaded curtain, obscuring the view.

A small hand lifted a corner of the curtain, which was decorated with fine drops of water. A long, white leg stepped over the threshold, droplets adorning the smooth, wet skin.

Rhaenyra stepped slowly into the tub, tilting her head and running her hands through her long, loose hair. She wore a light gauze robe that barely hid her form in the misty steam.

“Rhaegar~~,” she called softly, her voice soft and melodic.

Inside the Hot Spring

Rhaegar was lost in a dream that was slowly turning into a nightmare. His pale face was flushed and he mumbled incoherently, “Great snow… flames…”

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and his body shook nervously. His movements disturbed the hot spring water, causing ripples to spread.

Sensing something was wrong, Rhaenyra stepped forward in her bare feet and said anxiously, “Rhaegar, wake up!”

Rhaegar had been plagued by nightmares for years, his nerves growing more tense each day. He had even taken up playing the harp to relieve his gloomy mood.

Hearing the familiar call, Rhaegar’s eyes snapped open, and he let out a hoarse roar. He sat up abruptly, gasping for breath, and looked around alertly.

“Rhaegar, it’s me,” Rhaenyra said softly as she approached him, worry etched on her face.

Rhaegar’s eyes were bloodshot, his chest heaving violently. He felt dizzy from the sudden movement and lack of oxygen. Holding his spinning head, he looked at Rhaenyra with a helpless expression. The blood in his eyes faded, replaced by a watery sheen.

“Sister,” he murmured, his voice filled with vulnerability.

Rhaenyra was deeply moved by the sound of his voice. She quickly walked to the edge of the heated pool where Rhaegar was sitting. It had been a long time since he had called her with such vulnerability.

The last time had been when he was a boy, awakening from a nightmare and shivering in her arms.

“Don’t be afraid. Another nightmare?” Rhaenyra’s eyes were full of concern as she knelt beside the hot spring and pulled Rhaegar into her arms.

Rhaegar shifted his position, resting his head against her softness and wrapping his arms around her waist. His head throbbed, and his heart pounded frantically.

It was hard to breathe because of the oppressive feeling that lingered after waking from the nightmare. Rhaegar didn’t know if it was the fear or the dizziness from the lack of blood supply.

“Rhaenyra, I had a dream, a very bad one,” he whispered weakly, rubbing his cheeks vigorously, trying to gather warmth.

Rhaenyra stroked his spine gently and kissed his forehead, her lips soft but firm. “Don’t worry, I’m always here for you.”

She didn’t know how to fully comfort him or share his fears, but she would always be his haven.

“Rhaenyra, I dreamt that a child and the dragon he was riding was attacked and fell into the sea.” Rhaegar closed his eyes tightly, remembering a similar dream from three years ago, and spoke almost unconsciously.

Rhaenyra pressed her forehead to his and caressed his cheeks, her voice soothing and sympathetic. “Don’t be afraid. It was just a dream. No one gets attacked by a dragon.”

“No! You don’t understand. I saw it all.” Rhaegar’s eyes opened, trembling with intensity. “That child looked exactly like me when I was young.”

Rhaenyra was stunned and stared at him in horror.

“And the dream I just had,” Rhaegar continued nervously, “it was also a child fighting a dragon, and then it snowed heavily.”

He exhaled sharply as he spoke, his legs causing the water to ripple. Beneath him stretched a thick tree root, its skin dry.

At a loss for words, Rhaenyra asked cautiously, “What is the connection between these two dreams?”

“My dreams don’t just come for no reason. They must be prophetic,” Rhaegar said, a shiver running down his spine. “These two children, they are my children!”

“They’re in danger… what will happen?” Rhaenyra listened intently, her mind racing.

Rhaegar turned to face her, staring directly into her purple eyes. A few meters away, a leafless weirwood tree, its branches like the claws and teeth of a monster, loomed ominously. On its trunk, a ghastly face with bleeding eyes seemed to gaze at the siblings clinging to each other.

Rhaegar, lost in thought, said, “It is likely… that they will lose their lives!”

He knew the terror of a dragon fight all too well. One wrong move and you could be consumed by Dragonfire. These two dreams, connected as they were, must be a warning from his prophetic gift.

Rhaenyra’s face fell, her eyes flickering with confusion. She reached out to touch her flat belly, a new worry taking hold.

“Rhaegar’s child… is it not…?” she whispered, trailing off as the weight of their shared fears settled heavily between them.

It took Rhaenyra half a second to shake off her unease. Her eyes flared with anger as she met Rhaegar’s gaze, biting her lower lip. “Whose dragon was it in the dream? Aegon’s or Daemon’s?”

The only ones she could think of who could threaten Rhaegar were her half-brother and her evil uncle. Daemon in particular was highly suspicious.

Rhaegar and Daemon had long feuded. Lately, rumors had it that Daemon was stirring up trouble on the Stepstones Islands and seemed to be planning something big. Rhaenyra couldn’t help but be cautious. Not only was it a nightmare, but it might affect her heir.

“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling it’s not them,” Rhaegar replied, doubt flashing in his eyes. The two dragons in the dream-one with green scales and the other with dark red-didn’t resemble Sunfyre or Caraxes.

Unable to get a definitive answer, Rhaenyra gritted her teeth and pulled Rhaegar into her arms for comfort.

A gust of wind lifted the curtain and stirred the steamy mist that enveloped the grim-faced Weirwood tree nearby. Rhaegar leaned back and murmured, “Rhaenyra, I sense a curse surrounding the Targaryens. The end of one nightmare is the beginning of another.”

The feeling had started when he couldn’t heal his father’s wounds, and now it was getting stronger.

Rhaenyra held Rhaegar like a child, her chin resting on his silver hair as she bit her lip. “Shh! No one can hurt us. Dragonfire will dispel any evil.”

“You’re right,” Rhaegar said, his voice soothing as his mind began to settle. He had been startled by the snow and meteor shower in his nightmare and had shared everything that was on his mind. Rhaenyra wasn’t supposed to know about these prophetic dreams – it only added to the bad mood.

After a long time they separated. Rhaenyra sat at the edge of the hot spring and dipped her legs into the water. Rhaegar rested his head on her lap, telling her of his recent troubles.

After a moment, he rubbed his cheeks, pinched the corner of her dress, and muttered, “Rhaenyra, why are you wearing a dress? It’s disrespectful to the hot springs.”

“Go away, and think of something pleasant,” Rhaenyra retorted, sending a blank stare his way. “You occupied the Isle of Faces, and that green man, who boasts of being the island’s guardian, blocked me from coming in.”

If it weren’t for outsiders, she wouldn’t have had to wear a dress. Under the dense fog, it quickly got wet and was not comfortable against her skin.

Rhaegar laughed. “Don’t be angry. Gal is quite capable. He’s a very skillful mage, maester, and gardener.”

“Hmph!” Rhaenyra grunted softly, kicking the water hard.

“Oh, Rhaenyra, now you’re even kicking me,” Rhaegar said pitifully, holding her thigh tightly and not letting go.

Rhaenyra turned her head proudly, her cheeks flushed red.

…

Driftmark.

The fire crackled softly, casting flickering light across the lavishly furnished room, perfumed with the sweet scent of burning incense wood.

A round table and two chairs adorned the space beside the fireplace.

Seated in one of the chairs, cloaked in a blanket, was the Sea Snake, his expression solemn, eyes cast downward, his long hair cascading over his shoulders.

Though the physical wounds from three years prior had long since healed, the pain in his heart remained unhealed.

“The Triarchy continues their movements, trading goods and slaves in abundance, steadily amassing their strength,” a magnetic, low voice sounded from across the room.

The Sea Snake, without looking up, added another piece of firewood to the flames, watching them dance as he spoke in a deep tone, “The dragonfire of the last war ignited the seeds of discord, fostering deep resentment among the nine free-trading city-states towards the Targaryens and Velaryons.”

Or rather, against the dragons themselves.

His companion chuckled playfully but remained silent.

As the Sea Snake extended his hand towards the warmth of the fire, he murmured, “More than a curse has been sown; an unprecedented opportunity presents itself.”

“We must seize this moment, for it is an imminent transformation of the entire world, one that will shake it to its core.”

With a cold, calculated gaze, the Sea Snake turned his head towards the figure seated on the opposite side of the table, beside a wine cabinet adorned with bottles.

There sat a man, legs crossed, a smirk gracing his lips.

Under the flickering firelight, Daemon’s ruggedly handsome face was illuminated.

Arms folded, his eyes deep in contemplation, Daemon became lost in thought.