A Crown for Aegon (ChatGPT)

[King's Landing Palace Courtyard, 278 AC. The afternoon sun filters through the lemon trees as King Aegon VI lounges on a marble bench, watching Queen Rhaella chase after a giggling one-year-old Prince Viserys. The toddler wobbles on unsteady legs, clutching a wooden dragon toy. Nearby, the still-unhatched dragon egg basks on a velvet cushion in a patch of sunlight.]

AEGON VI: (grinning) He's got the Targaryen stubbornness already. Just look at him - barely walking and already trying to outrun his mother.

RHAELLA: (breathless, hands on hips) He gets that from your side! (calling after Viserys) Slow down, my little dragon!

[Viserys promptly plops onto his padded bottom, more interested in chewing his toy than continuing his escape. Rhaella scoops him up, brushing grass from his silver curls as she joins Aegon on the bench.]

AEGON VI: (peering at the egg) Still nothing? I was certain our little terror would scare it into hatching by now.

RHAELLA: (adjusting Viserys in her lap) Perhaps it's waiting for Tiamat's new clutch. Our dragons seem determined to repopulate Westeros single-handedly.

[A servant arrives with chilled pear wine, bowing deeply before retreating. Viserys makes grabby hands at Aegon's goblet.]

AEGON VI: (holding it out of reach) Ah ah, my prince. You'll have to wait a few more years for this particular pleasure. (takes a sip) Speaking of waiting - did you see Rhaegar and Elia this morning? I swear, if they blush any harder at breakfast, we'll have to repaint the Red Keep.

RHAELLA: (laughing) Newlyweds. Though I'll take their awkwardness over Daeron and Cersei's... intensity. That Summerhall wedding nearly set the tapestries aflame.

AEGON VI: (groaning) Don't remind me. Tywin's already sent three ravens about "ensuring proper Lannister representation" at Daemon and Ashara's Dornish wedding next year.

[Viserys chooses this moment to smack his toy dragon against the unhatched egg with surprising force. Both parents freeze - but the egg remains stubbornly inert.]

RHAELLA: (scooping up the toy) No no, sweetling. We don't beat potential magical creatures into hatching. (mutters) Even if it's tempting.

AEGON VI: (leaning closer to the egg) You hear that? You're missing out on all the fun. Viserys here has already learned to throw his porridge at the Kingsguard. Imagine what he'll do with dragonflame.

[The egg gives a faint, almost imperceptible pulse of warmth. Rhaella's eyes widen, but before she can comment, the distant roar of Fenrir echoes across the city - followed by an answering call from Tiamat in the Dragonpit.]

RHAELLA: (smiling) They're as restless as we are. Do you think they know about the coming eggs?

AEGON VI: (watching the sky) Oh, Fenrir definitely knows. The way he's been strutting around the pit? Worse than Prince Daemon after his first joust.

[Viserys yawns dramatically, curling into Rhaella's shoulder. The unhatched egg seems to dim slightly in the sunlight, as if sulking.]

RHAELLA: (stroking Viserys' hair) So much change in one year. Two weddings done, two to go. Dragons breeding. And this little one growing like a weed.

AEGON VI: (softly) And yet some things remain stubbornly the same. (pokes the egg) Unlike certain lazy stones I could name.

[The egg gives another faint pulse - perhaps in protest, perhaps in promise. High above, dragon shadows dance across the courtyard, while in the distance, the sounds of a city preparing for more celebrations carry on the warm summer air.]

[King's Landing Palace Courtyard, 278 AC. The golden afternoon light filters through the lemon trees as King Aegon VI and Queen Rhaella enjoy a rare quiet moment, watching their sleeping toddler Prince Viserys curled between them on a silk-draped bench. The unhatched dragon egg sits nearby, glinting in the sun. Suddenly, the peaceful scene is shattered as Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia enter arm-in-arm, followed closely by Prince Daeron and Princess Cersei in what appears to be a tense silence.]

PRINCE RHAEGAR: (beaming) Father! Mother! You'll never guess what Elia and I discovered in the Dragonpit!

PRINCESS CERSEI: (cutting in sharply) Unless it's how to properly organize a royal household, I doubt it's more important than what we—

PRINCE DAERON: (pinching bridge of nose) Cersei, please. Not everything is a competition.

[Viserys stirs slightly in his sleep as Rhaella shoots Aegon an amused look.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (whispering) And here I thought newlyweds were supposed to be blissful.

KING AEGON VI: (grinning) Oh this is bliss. Our version anyway. (louder) Well? Don't keep us in suspense, children.

PRINCESS ELIA: (excited) The Dragonkeepers believe Tiamat will lay her clutch within the fortnight! And from the size of her—

PRINCESS CERSEI: (interrupting) How lovely. Meanwhile, I've completely redesigned the Summerhall staff rotations. (produces scroll) Every servant accounted for, every—

PRINCE RHAEGAR: (ignoring her) —and Haegon thinks there might be four eggs this time! Four!

[At this, even Daeron looks impressed despite himself. Cersei's scroll droops slightly.]

PRINCE DAERON: (practical as ever) We'll need to expand the heating vents in the pit's nursery chamber. And increase security—

PRINCESS CERSEI: (brightening) Which I could oversee! With proper Lannister guards of course.

KING AEGON VI: (chuckling) Let's wait until the eggs actually exist before we start fighting over them, shall we?

[Little Viserys chooses this moment to wake with a cranky whimper, rubbing his eyes. Rhaella scoops him up as the unhatched egg gives a faint pulse.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (smirking) See? Even the babe knows better than to get between you all and dragon politics.

PRINCESS ELIA: (moving to coo at Viserys) Oh but he'll want one someday! Imagine him flying alongside his nieces and nephews!

PRINCESS CERSEI: (tight smile) Our children will be first in line for bonding, naturally. As the heir's—

PRINCE RHAEGAR: (suddenly poetic) The dragons will choose who they choose! Just as the songs foretell!

[An awkward silence falls. Even Viserys stops fussing to blink at them all. Aegon breaks the tension by clapping his hands together.]

KING AEGON VI: Right! How about this—you four plan the welcoming feast for the new eggs, and try not to start a war over hypothetical dragonriders? Meanwhile, we'll keep working on this stubborn one. (pats unhatched egg)

PRINCE DAERON: (nodding) Reasonable. I'll draft seating charts.

PRINCESS CERSEI: (immediately) Those are my charts to draft!

[As the newlyweds continue their bickering out of the courtyard, Rhaella bounces a giggling Viserys while Aegon shakes his head fondly. The unhatched egg gives one last, stronger pulse—almost as if laughing at the chaos of House Targaryen.]

[King's Landing Palace Courtyard, 278 AC. The late afternoon sun casts golden light across the courtyard where the royal family is gathered. King Aegon VI bounces a giggling Prince Viserys on his knee while Queen Rhaella watches with amusement. Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia sit close together on a marble bench, whispering sweet nothings, while Prince Daeron and Princess Cersei stand slightly apart, engaged in what appears to be a heated debate about household management. The unhatched dragon egg rests nearby on its velvet cushion, seemingly indifferent to the family drama.]

PRINCESS CERSEI: (pointing aggressively at a scroll) "The wine cellars must be inventoried weekly, not monthly! Do you want our guests drinking vinegar at our next feast?"

PRINCE DAERON: (exasperated) It's been inventoried the same way for fifty years, woman!

[Before Cersei can retort, Dragonkeeper Haegon comes sprinting into the courtyard, his leather robes flapping, face flushed with excitement.]

HAEGON: (bowing hastily) Your Graces! My princes! Tiamat—she's—the eggs—!

KING AEGON VI: (standing abruptly, nearly dropping Viserys) Out with it, man!

HAEGON: (beaming) Five eggs, Your Grace! Five perfect dragon eggs! Tiamat delivered them just now in the pit!

[A collective gasp sweeps through the courtyard. Even Cersei looks momentarily awestruck. The unhatched egg gives a sudden, sharp pulse of warmth.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (clutching Aegon's arm) Five? That's... that's one for each of our children!

PRINCE RHAEGAR: (eyes shining) The gods have blessed us indeed!

PRINCESS ELIA: (pressing a hand to her belly) And perhaps... one for the next generation as well?

[This earns a sharp look from Cersei, who immediately grabs Daeron's arm possessively.]

KING AEGON VI: (grinning like a boy) Rhaegar, Daeron—fetch your siblings at once! Tell Daemon and Alyssa to meet us in the Dragonpit immediately. (to Rhaella) My love, should we bring Viserys?

QUEEN RHAELLA: (adjusting the sleepy toddler in her arms) And miss his first dragon eggs? I think not. Though someone should fetch his padded gloves—last time he tried to pet Fenrir, he nearly lost a finger.

PRINCESS CERSEI: (already marching toward the exit) I'll oversee the security preparations. We'll need double the guards and—

PRINCE DAERON: (grabbing her elbow) You'll do no such thing! This is a family moment, not a military operation!

[As the group begins moving excitedly toward the Dragonpit, the long-unhatched egg gives one final, almost petulant pulse before falling still—perhaps sensing its time may finally be coming to an end. High above, Fenrir's triumphant roar shakes the windows of the Red Keep, announcing to all of King's Landing that the age of dragons has truly returned.]

[King's Landing Dragonpit, 278 AC. The massive cavern echoes with the sounds of excited chatter and the occasional rumble from Fenrir and Tiamat, who lounge nearby, looking immensely pleased with themselves. The five newly-laid dragon eggs rest in a nest of smoldering embers, their shells shimmering in different hues under the torchlight. King Aegon VI and Queen Rhaella stand with Prince Viserys in her arms, while Princes Rhaegar and Daeron (with their wives) examine the eggs with awe. The heavy doors creak open as Prince Daemon and Ashara Dayne burst in, followed by Princess Alyssa and a stoic Stannis Baratheon.]

PRINCE DAEMON: (grinning wildly) Five eggs?! I told you all Tiamat was looking plump last week!

PRINCESS ALYSSA: (rolling her eyes) You also said that about Lady Olenna Tyrell at the feast, and she nearly had you thrown into Blackwater Bay.

STANNIS: (flatly) A fortunate near-miss for the realm.

[Laughter ripples through the family as they gather around the nest. The eggs pulse faintly with warmth, their colors shifting in the dim light—deep emerald, pale silver, molten gold, blood-red, and midnight blue.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (softly) One for each of you. Just as it was in the days of the Conqueror and his sisters.

PRINCESS CERSEI: (immediately) The gold one will go to our line, of course.

PRINCE DAERON: (sighing) Cersei, the dragons choose their riders. You can't just—

PRINCESS CERSEI: (smug) And yet, which egg do you think will match Lannister colors?

PRINCE DAEMON: (snorting) Oh, here we go.

PRINCE RHAEGAR: (poetically) The eggs will sing when they're ready. Just as Fenrir and Tiamat did for Father and Mother.

ASHARA DAYNE: (gently touching the pale silver egg) And if they don't hatch?

KING AEGON VI: (grinning) Then we'll have five very expensive paperweights.

[Even Stannis cracks a slight smile at that. Viserys, now fully awake, reaches chubby hands toward the eggs, babbling excitedly.]

QUEEN RHAELLA: (bouncing him) Oh no, my little dragon. You'll have to wait your turn.

PRINCESS ELIA: (smiling) Or perhaps not. The gods work in mysterious ways.

[Fenrir lets out a low, approving rumble, while Tiamat curls protectively around the nest, her golden eyes gleaming. The long-unhatched egg, now brought into the pit and placed nearby, gives a sudden, almost jealous pulse of heat—as if realizing its time as the "last hope" may be ending.]

PRINCE DAEMON: (grinning at Aegon) So, Father, does this mean we're officially the most flammable family in Westeros again?

KING AEGON VI: (clapping him on the back) Son, we never stopped being flammable. We just ran out of things to burn for a while.

[Laughter fills the Dragonpit as the Targaryens—old and new—stand together, surrounded by fire, legacy, and the promise of wings yet to come.]