Chapter 48: Dragonstone

Prince Aemon Targaryen

The ships had taken them as far as they could go. Home was in the distance, he could smell it, fire and brimstone, the things he had dreamed about since he was old enough to dream. Belgabad and the other dragons could sense it as well, they were growing restless, determined to take them back to their homes. The dragons had grown during the voyage, Belgabad was as big if not bigger than an aurochs now, and was big enough to mount, Rhaegal and Viserion were smaller and agile. Aemon had decided he and his sister would arrive on their dragons. He mounted up, on the saddle he had been given, dressed from head to foot in black armour, a sword on his back, his sister dressed in armour as well. He looks at her, smiles and then gives the command.

The dragons spring into action, and there is nothing quite like it, the feeling of the wind flying past, of people and ships becoming nothing more than specs in the ground below. He and Belgabad feel as one, they fly into the air, and Belgabad roars, a sound that sends a shiver through him. Rhaegal and Viserion roar in response, following their older brother's encouragement. He smiles in his helm, the display of power they are giving now, is one that not many will forget any time soon. As it should be. They are dragons, they cannot be forgotten so easily. He directs them toward the castle, the island with its rocks and its dragons, it looks an imposing sight, and he feels a call. Home. This was where he was born, where his mother gave him and his sister life. They move toward it, and there are people coming to watch. He brings Belgabad close to the ground, has him unleash a jet of black fire, before bringing him down to land.

He waits for a moment allowing people to come to him, to mill around and whisper, there are armed soldiers coming as well. They bear the Baratheon stag on their armour and that infuriates him, but he keeps the anger from his face as he lifts his helm. In a loud and clear voice, he says. "I am Aemon Targaryen, the rightful King of Westeros, and Lord of Dragonstone. I have come back to claim what is mine." There are whispers at this, and he can hear the fear in some of the voices, queries over what he's going to do to those who bent the knee to the usurper or his brother.

His sister speaks, her voice soft. "I am Daenerys Targaryen, Princess of Westeros. I have come to aid my brother. Is there any who might speak with us?" it is a softness he had opposed, they were dragons they did not ask for help, but his sister had convinced him otherwise.

There is a brief murmur as the people speak amongst themselves, then, a man dressed in the colours of House Massey steps forward. "I am Ser Justin Massey, Your Graces. I can provide you with help if you wish?"

Aemon can hear the plea in the man's voice and he hides a smirk behind a cool tone. "My men are coming into port. How many men are here?"

"Six hundred men Your Grace." The man responds instantly.

A lickspittle, how fun. Aemon thinks to himself. "Very well, send half those men out to the port, I want them to greet my men and see them to lodgings. The rest shall secure this castle for me." He looks to where the Baratheon banners fly in the wind. "Remove those banners and find the old banners, put them on the posts. Do you understand?"

"Yes Your Grace, at once, Your Grace." The man responds.

The man goes to hurry away, but before he can, Aemon remembering the name of a man his brother had told him about long ago asks. "Ser Justin, there was a man here named Vaegon when I was a babe, does he still live?"

The man hesitates for a moment and then nods. "Yes Your Grace he does."

"Bring him to me." Aemon commands, he watches and waits as Massey goes to do as bid, and when the man approaches with someone with silver hair and violet eyes, Aemon dismounts from Belgabad, and walks toward the man.

"Your Graces." The man replies, his voice quavering with emotion. "It is an honour."

Aemon grasps the man by the shoulders as he goes to bend. "No need for that. The honour is all mine." Dany comes to stand at his side, and he kisses the man's forehead and whispers. "Thank you for waiting for us Vaegon. We know you are old, but we are home now." Much louder he says. "The dragons are home! And this time we shall not leave!"

That draws a roar from the gathered crowd, either the dragons, or their own presence has drawn such a thing, Aemon finds he does not care for the reason, all he cares for is the fact that they are roaring for them. He takes his sister's hand and says. "Show us to the castle Vaegon."

The man bows and hurries to show them the way home. He remembers this, even though he has never been here. He remembers the stories Viserys used to tell him, tell them about their home. He feels a pang for his brother, long dead now, buried, his ash to be laid to rest here now though. Daenerys points out the dragons carved into the walls, and he smiles and nods, wondering if now might be the right time to marry her, or whether he should wait till they are crowned and anointed in Westeros. They stop in front of a little grave, and it is here, that Vaegon says sombrely. "This is where Queen Rhaella was buried."

Aemon nods. "Thank you, you may retire now Vaegon, thank you." The man bows and leaves, Vaegon moves to kneel before his mother's grave and whispers. "We are home now mama, your children are home, and we shall take back what was taken from us. With fire and blood."