Essos Conquest 2

Daenerys held onto her own dragon as it hissed softly, watching its sibling scurry forward.

The hatchling moved with purpose, its tiny claws scraping against the earth as it reached the monstrous beasts before it. It lifted its head, letting out a soft, high-pitched chirp.

The response was almost disinterested.

Bahamut huffed, his nostrils flaring, but his gaze was indifferent. Igneel simply shifted his wing, making space for the small creature but offering no further reaction. Albion, the closest in color, tilted her head slightly but then lay back down, uninterested.

The hatchling did not care.

Instead, it climbed.

Aegon and Daenerys watched in silent surprise as the small dragon latched onto Bahamut's side, using his enormous scales as footholds, climbing upward with determination. Bahamut rumbled low in his throat but did not shake the creature off.

When the hatchling reached the massive dragon's back, it spread its tiny wings, flapping twice before settling down between Bahamut's great shoulders.

Aegon let out a breath of amusement.

"It has courage," Daenerys murmured.

"Or foolishness," Aegon corrected.

Daenerys stepped forward now, her midnight-black hatchling squirming slightly in her grasp before she set it down.

The creature did not hesitate and strode forward confidently, its golden eyes locked onto the towering forms before it. It let out a hiss, then a soft but sharp growl.

Bahamut ignored it.

Igneel, however, turned his head slightly, exhaling a slow breath through his nostrils. The black hatchling did not flinch, merely flicked its tail and stood its ground.

Then, it turned sharply away and began climbing Igneel instead.

Daenerys gasped softly as her dragon scaled the red beast, its tiny claws digging into the great, molten-colored scales. Igneel let out a deep huff, glancing at the small thing moving along his body. But like Bahamut, he did not remove it.

Instead, when the black hatchling finally reached Igneel's back, it spread its wings and let out a fierce cry.

Aegon glanced at Daenerys.

Daenerys watched in awe as her dragon settled against Igneel's massive spine, as if it belonged there. A slow smile touched her lips.

"Balerion," she whispered.

Aegon raised a brow.

"You name it after the Black Dread?"

Daenerys turned to him, her violet eyes gleaming in the torchlight.

"It feels right."

Aegon let out a quiet hum, his gaze shifting back to the fearless hatchling now perched atop Igneel, staring at the world below as if it already owned it.

"Then so be it," he said. "Balerion the Black."

Daenerys smiled. A real smile, not the cold, practiced one she used in front of Viserys or the wary ones she had given Illyrio. This one was hers, and it was genuine.

Aegon glanced at the cream-colored hatchling, still nestled between Bahamut's great wings, and exhaled softly.

"You don't think it will bond with you?"

Aegon shook his head.

"No. If it were meant for me, it would have chosen me the moment it hatched."

His tone was certain. There was no disappointment, only understanding.

Daenerys studied him for a long moment.

"Then who?"

Aegon turned his gaze to her, and for a moment, he was silent. Then, finally, he spoke.

"One of our children."

A shiver ran down Daenerys' spine at his words. The way he said it was not as a possibility but as an inevitability.

"You are certain of this?" she asked quietly.

Aegon's purple eyes burned in the dim light.

"As certain as I am that we will conquer."

There was no doubt in his voice, no hesitation. Strangely, Daenerys found herself believing him.

A future child. A dragon waiting for a rider not yet born.

It was a thought that unsettled her… but also fascinated her.

Morning came swiftly, the first rays of sunlight breaking across the endless Dothraki Sea. Warriors had already gathered, their horses shifting beneath them as they waited for their leader. The air buzzed with tension and anticipation.

Aegon stood before them, Bahamut, Igneel, and Albion looming behind him. Their great forms cast shadows over the assembled horde.

Daenerys sat atop a silver mare, observing quietly.

She had seen Viserys try to command before, and she had witnessed the way the Dothraki mocked him behind his back. They saw him as weak and pathetic, a beggar with a crown too large for his head.

But Aegon?

The moment he raised his hand, silence fell.

And then he spoke.

His voice carried over the gathered warriors, strong and commanding. "We have spent years in these lands, proving our might! We have crushed the so-called great hordes, tamed the lands, and stood against the cowards of the west who tremble at the sight of us!"

A cheer erupted, fierce and wild.

Daenerys felt the energy in the air, the raw loyalty these men had for him. It was not fear, nor was it blind devotion.

It was earned.

Aegon raised a hand again, and silence followed.

"But now, our time here has ended." His purple eyes swept across them. "The world beyond these lands belongs to us. Essos, Westeros… they will bow, or they will burn. We will take what is ours."

The roar of approval that followed shook the very ground beneath them.

Aegon smirked, then turned his back to them, walking toward Bahamut. He reached up, gripping the mighty dragon's horned head, and whispered something only the beast could hear.

Bahamut's golden eyes flashed, and then.

A deafening roar shattered the sky.

Igneel and Albion followed, their cries ringing through the morning air.

The Dothraki raised their weapons, their voices joining the song of fire and blood.

Daenerys exhaled, shaken.

This was what a leader looked like.

Viserys could have never done this.

As the horde roared in approval, she knew one thing for certain. Aegon was no pretender. He was no beggar king.

He was a conqueror.

And the world would soon know it.