A Crown for Aegon (ChatGPT)

[King's Landing Palace Courtyard, 277 AC. King Aegon VI and Queen Rhaella stand beneath the shade of the towering Dragonpit, their dragons Fenrir and Tiamat coiled nearby, lazily basking in the afternoon sun. The Queen rests a hand on her swollen belly, her gaze lingering on the unhatched dragon egg displayed on a pedestal between them.]

AEGON VI: (softly) It's been five years since Pentos gave us these eggs. Two hatched, yet this one remains still.

RHAELLA: (sighs) Perhaps it waits for the right rider. Our children are still young, and now… (glances down at her belly) this one may yet claim it.

AEGON VI: (smiles faintly) A miracle, truly. After Daeron and Daemon, I never thought the gods would bless us again.

RHAELLA: (chuckles) Nor did I. Though I suppose the realm will have much to say about it—another prince or princess so many years after the others.

AEGON VI: (dryly) Let them talk. They've had plenty to say since the day we wed.

[Fenrir shifts, his golden scales glinting as he stretches a wing, casting a shadow over them. Tiamat, smaller and silver-blue, lets out a low rumble in response.]

RHAELLA: (stroking Tiamat's snout) At least the dragons keep them distracted. The smallfolk still gawk at them like they're some spectacle.

AEGON VI: (grinning) Better they gawk at dragons than at our family affairs.

RHAELLA: (raises an eyebrow) Oh? And whose fault is it that our affairs are so interesting?

AEGON VI: (laughs) Yours, for being so stubbornly fertile after all these years.

RHAELLA: (playfully swats his arm) You take that back.

AEGON VI: (holding up his hands) Never. I'd rather face Fenrir's flames than your temper.

[The dragons huff in amusement, as if understanding the jest. Nearby, the sound of construction echoes—the ongoing restoration of the Dragonpit, still unfinished after half a decade.]

RHAELLA: (glancing toward the noise) How much longer do you think Rhaegar and Daeron will take with that pit? At this rate, our next child will be born before it's done.

AEGON VI: (shrugs) They're perfectionists. Rhaegar insists every stone must be placed with "historical accuracy," and Daeron won't let a single measurement go unchecked.

RHAELLA: (smirks) So, never, then.

AEGON VI: (nodding) Likely.

[A comfortable silence falls between them, the warmth of the dragons' presence filling the air. Then—]

RHAELLA: (softly) Do you ever think about what might have been? If Summerhall never happened?

AEGON VI: (expression darkening slightly) Every day.

RHAELLA: (gently) I didn't mean to—

AEGON VI: (shakes his head) No, it's… (exhales) I wonder if Aerys would've been a better king. If Rhaegar would've been happier, not bearing the weight of being my heir out of guilt.

RHAELLA: (placing a hand on his arm) You've given him every honor, every privilege. He doesn't resent you.

AEGON VI: (quietly) I hope not.

[Fenrir nudges Aegon's side, as if sensing his unease. The king smiles, scratching the dragon's scales.]

AEGON VI: (changing the subject) Do you think this one will be a boy or a girl?

RHAELLA: (grinning) Another boy, just to spite you.

AEGON VI: (mock horror) Seven save me. Another Daeron and Daemon running about.

RHAELLA: (laughs) You love them.

AEGON VI: (sighs dramatically) Against my better judgment.

[They share a quiet laugh, the weight of the past momentarily lifted. The unhatched egg gleams in the sunlight, a silent promise of the future.]

RHAELLA: (whispering) Whoever this one is… they'll be loved.

AEGON VI: (kissing her brow) As they should be.

[The dragons curl closer, their warmth a shield against the world's uncertainties.]

[King's Landing Palace – Old Nursery Room, 277 AC. The room is bathed in soft candlelight, the walls adorned with faded tapestries of dragons and old Targaryen heroes. A sturdy wooden crib, freshly polished, stands in the center. King Aegon VI carefully places the unhatched dragon egg on a velvet cushion beside it, while Queen Rhaella runs a hand over the smooth, scaled surface, lost in thought.]

RHAELLA: (quietly) It's strange, isn't it? After all this time, we're back here—preparing for another child, another chance.

AEGON VI: (smirking) You say that like we planned it.

RHAELLA: (laughs softly) No, but the gods do have a sense of humor.

[She rubs her belly absently, then glances at the egg.]

RHAELLA: Do you think it will hatch for this one?

AEGON VI: (shrugging) Fenrir and Tiamat chose us. Maybe this egg is just waiting for the right rider.

RHAELLA: (teasing) Or maybe it's just stubborn, like its future rider's father.

AEGON VI: (grinning) That would be your influence, not mine.

[She rolls her eyes, then sobers, her fingers tracing the edge of the crib.]

RHAELLA: (softly) I never thought we'd be here again. After everything… after Rhaegar's birth, after Alyssa's… (trails off)

AEGON VI: (gently) We survived.

RHAELLA: (nodding) Barely.

[A moment of silence. The weight of the past lingers between them—the screams of Summerhall, the blood-soaked sheets of Jocelyn's birthing bed, the years of quiet dread before Daeron finally came.]

AEGON VI: (quietly) Do you remember what Grand Maester Pycelle said after Daeron was born?

RHAELLA: (snorts) That it was a "medical marvel" I didn't die from shock?

AEGON VI: (chuckles) No. That sometimes, the body remembers trauma longer than the mind. That it might take time… but life finds a way.

RHAELLA: (raising an eyebrow) And here I thought you only remembered his lectures on taxation.

AEGON VI: (grinning) I remember anything that involves you.

[She swats his arm lightly, but there's warmth in her eyes. Then she sighs, looking back at the egg.]

RHAELLA: (murmuring) It took us three years to even marry after Summerhall. Three years of Father's insistence, the council's whispers… and then two more before Daeron came.

AEGON VI: (softly) And yet, here we are.

RHAELLA: (smirking) Here we are. A miracle baby after a decade. The realm will think we've gone mad.

AEGON VI: (laughing) Let them. They already think we're mad for riding dragons.

RHAELLA: (grinning) Fair point.

[She leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder. The egg glimmers faintly in the candlelight, as if listening.]

RHAELLA: (whispering) Do you ever wonder… if this one will be the last?

AEGON VI: (kissing her hair) I stopped trying to predict the gods' plans a long time ago.

RHAELLA: (smiling) Wise man.

[A comfortable silence settles between them, the kind forged through years of shared grief and quiet joy. Then—]

AEGON VI: (suddenly) If it's a girl, we should name her something terrifying.

RHAELLA: (laughing) What, like Balerion?

AEGON VI: (grinning) Visenya the Second. Just to watch Tywin Lannister's face when he hears it.

RHAELLA: (shaking her head) You're terrible.

AEGON VI: (kissing her temple) And yet you love me.

RHAELLA: (sighing dramatically) Against my better judgment.

[They both laugh, the sound warm and familiar in the quiet nursery. The dragon egg remains still, but for the first time in years, it doesn't feel like an unanswered question—just a promise, waiting.]

AEGON VI: (softly) Whoever they are… they'll be ours.

RHAELLA: (leaning into him) And that's enough.

[Outside, the distant roar of Fenrir echoes over King's Landing, a reminder that even after all these years, magic still lives in their blood.]

[King's Landing Palace – Nursery Room, 277 AC. The nostalgic moment between King Aegon VI and Queen Rhaella is interrupted as the door creaks open. Prince Rhaegar of Dragonstone and Prince Daeron of Summerhall stride in, still dusted with stone powder from the Dragonpit. Rhaegar, ever the poetic soul, carries himself with quiet grace, while Daeron—ever the meticulous planner—looks as if he's mentally tallying measurements even now.]

RHAEGAR: (smiling softly) Father. Mother. Forgive the intrusion.

DAERON: (brusque, but pleased) It's done.

AEGON VI: (raising an eyebrow) What's done?

DAERON: (gesturing vaguely, as if the answer is obvious) The Dragonpit. Five years. Finally.

RHAELLA: (amused) And here I thought you two would take another decade just debating the archway designs.

RHAEGAR: (chuckling) Daeron nearly strangled a stonemason over the wrong shade of black for the outer gates.

DAERON: (defensive) It was charcoal, not jet. There's a difference.

AEGON VI: (pinching the bridge of his nose) Gods help me.

RHAELLA: (grinning) So, it's ready for Fenrir and Tiamat?

RHAEGAR: (nodding) Fully restored. Stronger than before. The lower chambers are reinforced, the ventilation shafts are properly aligned—

DAERON: (cutting in) —and the outer defenses can withstand a siege, should any fool ever try to steal a dragon again.

AEGON VI: (dryly) Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

RHAELLA: (stroking the unhatched egg) And what of this one? Will there be space for a third?

RHAEGAR: (glancing at the egg) There's always space. Though I suspect this egg has its own plans.

DAERON: (practical as ever) If it hatches, we'll adjust.

AEGON VI: (smirking) Spoken like a true steward.

DAERON: (shrugging) Someone has to keep the realm running while the poets brood.

RHAEGAR: (mock-offended) I contemplate.

RHAELLA: (laughing) You brood.

[The brothers exchange a look—Daeron's exasperation warring with Rhaegar's amusement—before Rhaegar turns back to his parents.]

RHAEGAR: (sobering slightly) You should see it. The pit… it's as it should be. Worthy of dragons.

AEGON VI: (softly) Just like Old Valyria?

RHAEGAR: (shaking his head) No. Something new. Something ours.

[A beat of silence. The weight of the moment settles—dragons back in the world, a dynasty reforged, a future unfolding.]

RHAELLA: (smiling) Then let's not keep them waiting. Fenrir's been restless lately—he'll be glad for the space.

DAERON: (nodding) Tiamat already tried to melt a statue in the garden yesterday.

AEGON VI: (sighing) Of course she did.

RHAEGAR: (grinning) She said it was ugly.

RHAELLA: (deadpan) She's not wrong.

[Laughter fills the nursery, bright and unburdened. The egg, still silent, seems to hum faintly in response—as if dreaming of fire and wings.]

AEGON VI: (clapping his hands) Alright. Let's go see this architectural masterpiece before Daeron drags another mason to the dungeons over a misplaced brick.

DAERON: (muttering) It was load-bearing.

[As they leave, Rhaella lingers for a moment, her hand resting on the crib. Then, with a final glance at the egg, she follows her family—ready to welcome their dragons home.]

[King's Landing Dragonpit, 277 AC. The massive structure stands renewed, its great dome gleaming in the afternoon sun as the royal procession arrives. Fenrir and Tiamat circle overhead, their excited roars echoing across the city as they anticipate their new home. King Aegon VI and Queen Rhaella lead the way, with Princes Rhaegar and Daeron following close behind, all gazing up at the impressive restoration.]

AEGON VI: (whistles low) I'll admit, boys - this is far more impressive than I expected. The stonemasons deserve double pay.

DAERON: (immediately) Absolutely not. We're already over budget by twelve percent.

RHAEGAR: (laughing) He's been keeping ledgers in his sleep. I caught him muttering about mortar costs last week.

RHAELLA: (patting Daeron's arm) Your grandfather would be proud. Aegon the Fifth always said a Targaryen should know the cost of every brick in their castle.

[Fenrir lands with a thunderous impact just outside the pit, his golden scales shimmering as he eagerly sniffs at the entrance. Tiamat follows, her silver-blue form gliding gracefully to the ground.]

AEGON VI: (calling out) Easy there, you great beast! You'll crack the new stones before we've even dedicated them!

RHAELLA: (amused) Too late - look at the scorch marks on the threshold already.

DAERON: (groaning) I told you we should have used dragonproof marble from the Stepstones.

RHAEGAR: (grinning) And I told you no one wants to see a prince weep over shipping costs.

[The dragons shuffle excitedly, their massive tails sweeping across the courtyard as they investigate their new home. Aegon approaches Fenrir, placing a hand on his snout.]

AEGON VI: Well, my friend? What do you think? Better than perching on the Red Keep's towers?

[Fenrir responds by blowing a warm gust of air that ruffles the king's hair, then eagerly pushes forward into the Dragonpit's main chamber. Tiamat follows, her movements more cautious but no less excited.]

RHAELLA: (watching them explore) They seem... pleased.

DAERON: (relieved) Thank the Seven. I wasn't looking forward to explaining why two dragons rejected five years of work.

RHAEGAR: (gazing upward) The acoustics are perfect. When they sing at night, all of King's Landing will hear.

AEGON VI: (dryly) How delightful for the smallfolk. Nothing like a dragon's lullaby to ensure peaceful sleep.

[Inside the pit, Fenrir begins circling his new space, testing the temperature of the stones with his claws while Tiamat investigates the specially designed nesting areas.]

RHAELLA: (leaning against Aegon) It's strange, isn't it? After all these years... dragons properly home again in King's Landing.

AEGON VI: (squeezing her hand) And hopefully the first of many. Who knows - perhaps our new babe will claim the last egg, and we'll need to expand.

DAERON: (immediately panicked) Don't even jest about that. The construction permits alone—

RHAEGAR: (laughing) Breathe, brother. One dragonpit at a time.

[As the dragons settle into their new home, a comfortable silence falls over the royal family. The moment is broken when Fenrir suddenly sneezes, sending a small burst of flame across the ceiling.]

AEGON VI: (sighing) And so begins the redecorating.

RHAELLA: (smiling) Just like home.

[The princes laugh as the dragons continue exploring, their joyful roars echoing through the newly restored Dragonpit - a sound not heard in King's Landing for generations.]