Chapter Text
The soul of the leader of the Hairy Hooligans tribe, Hiccup the Horrendous Haddock III, standing on the cliff of the island of New Berk, watched as his family: wife Astrid Haddock née Hofferson, beautiful daughter like her mother - Zephyr Haddock, brave as his mother son, heir and new leader of New Berk - Nuffink I Haddock, his friends: Tuffnut Thorston, Snotlout Jorgenson, Fishlegs Ingerman and his wife Bully Ingerman née Thorston, as well as his entire tribe - the Hairy Hooligans, saw him off to Valhalla.
Drakkar with his lifeless body was lowered into the sea and people prepared to shoot arrows with flame to set fire to the body of their leader. Hiccup watched with pain in his soul as his wife with tears and trembling hands took aim along with their children. It was painful for his family to say goodbye to their husband, father, as it was for him to say goodbye to them. But their separation was only temporary. Hiccup was sure that they would meet again in Valhalla or in another life. He glanced at everyone who was at his funeral and smiled as he said goodbye to his family and people. But among all those gathered, there was one person he treasured very much.
He looked again towards the drakkar with his body, trying to find out whose arrow would hit first and accurately. And suddenly sounds came from the sky, and purple plasma balls of flame hit the target.
- Toothless! - Hiccup exclaimed joyfully, watching his dragon and his family. They circled above the drakkar. But far enough so that the Vikings' arrows did not touch them.
Arrows flew to the ship and the fires from the arrows joined the dragons' fire. Hiccup slowly approached his family, grieving over the loss. The chief hugged the children goodbye, kissed them on the tops of their heads, and his dear wife - Astrid - on the lips tenderly to console her. Astrid wiped her lips as if she felt his lips touching hers.
- We will meet again, darling! - she whispered, wiping away her tears. - I swear! We will meet!
- We will meet, my love. - he answered, whispering consolation, looking at her with love trying to remember her once and for all in all her beauty as if she were a work of art that he could see once in a lifetime. - I love you Astrid Hofferson! And I will love you forever! Hiccup and Astrid forever! Yesterday, now, tomorrow and the next life!
He turned and saw that Toothless had landed next to his family. 10 years had passed since they last saw each other. It was at the entrance to the Secret World, when he first showed his children that dragons are not dangerous, but friends.
Astrid approached Toothless and explained everything to him. His brother looked at her with sadness, realizing who was gone from this world and turning his gaze to the burning drakkar. Approaching Toothless, he whispered, placing his palm on his muzzle, hoping that he would hear his words.
- We will meet again, brother! - he put his head to his head. - In the meantime, live. I hope you live a long and happy life! When there is no me and you too, we will be together again and fly through the sky like in the old days, I swear!
He pulled away from them and headed towards the light. Hiccup looked at his family for the last time: Astrid, Zephyr, Nuffink and Toothless.
- See you later! - were his last words before dissolving into the light. Light illuminates him, everything is so bright that it hurts his eyes. Hiccup closed his eyes and walked slowly. But suddenly his body became heavier, memories of his life that happened as if yesterday began to quickly run forward in front of his closed eyes. And another picture began in front of him. Something began to happen to his body, and he began to feel some kind of softness, like silk covering him with its body. With his nose he smelled the warmth of the room or premises. With his skin he felt the temperature. With his fingers the softness of what he was lying on. Hiccup opened his eyes. Warm morning light penetrated through the transparent red curtains, falling on the carved wooden bed in which he was lying. The bed was soft, very soft, the softest he had ever lain on. The feeling was strange. Everything around him felt big and alien.
He blinked, rubbing his eyes as if he had woken up from a dream. Still lying on the bed, Hiccup looked around the room. A high red ceiling, walls decorated with tapestries depicting dragons, a heavy chest by the bed, a small table piled high with some books, a fireplace, a curtain made of thin, transparent fabric, a wooden wardrobe. This place looked like something out of a fairy tale or a legend.
Hiccup tried to get up, but his body wouldn’t obey him. He felt that his arms had become much smaller, and his legs barely reached the middle of the bed.
- What… what is this? - he whispered, his voice sounding thin, childish. It seriously scared him, as a grown man.
He raised his hands in front of him. They were small like a child’s, the skin was smooth, the nails were trimmed, without traces of scars and calluses that he was used to seeing. Carefully sliding off the bed, he approached the large mirror in the corner of the huge room. His bare feet. Gods, he had feet! He was missing his left leg! But now the leg was there! His legs were short and awkward, almost tangled in the long shirt he was wearing. When he reached the mirror, his breath caught.
There, in the reflection of a huge, obviously very expensive mirror, a child was looking at him.
Silver-colored hair fell on a beautiful child's face, and large, previously unseen beautiful dark-indigo eyes looked at him with bewilderment. Remembering the conversation with Fishlegs about colors and shades, Hiccup remembered the color, this dark indigo. He touched his face, his nose, his hair. It was not him, or rather he, but only another. It was the face and body of another person, or rather a child of about three years old.
- Who am I? - he whispered, his voice trembling. - Where am I? - he asked the reflection in fear, thinking that the answer would appear before him.
He closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts.
- I... died? - he thought, having difficulty digesting what was happening. - Maybe I'm dreaming? - he pinched himself and realized that this was not a dream.
Hiccup sat on the edge of the huge and luxurious bed, trying to comprehend what had happened. He was sure of only one thing: he was no longer who he used to be. Memories of the past and images of this new world intertwined in his head, haunting him. Other pictures of life flashed before his eyes. A huge parade, a celebration inside a beautiful hall, people in expensive clothes watching him. He remembered the noise, the voices that this child, who was now him, heard.
His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. Before he could say anything, the door opened and two women entered the room. The first was a young girl with chestnut hair, braided into a neat braid. Her eyes were warm and her smile was a little timid. She wore a simple gray dress with a white apron, her hands folded in front of her.
The second woman was older, her face slightly lined, and her hair under a dark cap was almost completely gray. She looked serious but kind, her figure spoke of being used to handling children.
Both bowed, lowering their heads.
- Good morning, my prince, - the young girl said, her voice soft.
Hiccup froze, his eyes widening in confusion at the title they were using for him. He felt a slight tremor in his hands.
- Who... are you? - he asked, stumbling slightly.
The young girl looked up, her smile growing a little wider.
- I am Lyra, my prince, - she said. - And this is Mira. We are your new nannies. We are here to take care of you.
- Baby-sister? - Hiccup asked, feeling his confusion grow.
The old woman, Mira, leaned forward slightly.
- Yes, my handsome prince. We are here to look after you. If you need anything, just say so. And we will do it.
Before Hiccup could answer, another figure entered the door. It was a girl of small stature and about fifteen or fourteen years old, wearing a long elegant dress of pale gold, her silver hair neatly arranged, her eyes the color of violets, and a black crown with red gems on her head. Her face was soft and kind, but in her eyes he could see love for him and something else that he could not yet understand. She was a girl of incredible beauty, like in fairy tales, even the goddess Freya in his imagination was not as beautiful as this girl.
She paused for a moment, smiling.
- Good morning, my little dragon! - she said, her voice full of love.
Hiccup froze, his gaze darting between her and the maids. It was completely alien and unbelievable, but he felt that she was... his mother. A new mother.
- Good morning, mommy! - he greeted her a little more quietly, trying to hide his confusion. He did not know how to react to this. He was much more in a big shoot than when he first met his real mother - Valka. When she introduced herself to him surrounded by a hundred dragons.
The woman laughed, slightly bowing her head. But she noticed his confused and perhaps a little scared look.
- Rhaegar, my dear boy, did you sleep badly? - she asked, sitting down next to him on the stool that two maids had prepared for her. - You look so strange, my dear. What is wrong with you?
The words of his new mother echoed in Hiccup's head. Rhaegar - that was his new name. He whispered the name, testing the sound. It sounded so powerful and beautiful, as if it suited someone great, this name was so majestic and powerful that if the names of people were associated with animals, then his new name would be associated with a dragon. His heart was beating wildly, but he forced himself to remain calm.
- Yes, mother... everything is fine, - he answered slowly, feeling how strange these words sounded from his lips. Just a couple of minutes ago, he was a grown man who was being escorted by his family, friends, tribe to Valhalla. But now he was a small child.
His new mother gently stroked his head.
- Did you have a difficult dream? You look so thoughtful, my dear.
- Just a little hungry, - he answered, trying to distract her. Hiccup was indeed hungry, even though he ate a yak leg before he died.
She was surprised and smiled. Her surprise was probably due to the fact that he said these words very clearly for a three-year-old child.
- Then we should dress you and go down to breakfast. - She said before turning to the maids. - Lyra, Mira, help him change.
The maids nodded and said.
- Yes, my Queen.
Queen, his mother is a Queen! He is now from the Royal Family. Previously, he was the chieftain of the Hairy Hooligan tribe on the island of New Berk. But now he is a prince of some kingdom that he has yet to understand.
They came closer and began to tidy him up. First, they washed his face with warm water, which they themselves brought in jugs along with a basin. And then they began to change Hiccup for his new day in a new body and in a new life, which he did not want and did not expect. Mira and Lyra dressed him in a light shirt of fine linen, a silk waistcoat with embroidered dragons and a warm cloak. Hiccup paid special attention to his new clothes. These were not simple clothes, but a whole work of art. Never in his life had he worn such an expensive and beautiful outfit. Even his outfit at his own wedding seemed simple compared to this child's outfit.
Little Hiccup, or rather Rhaegar, was dressed in elegant but comfortable clothes, appropriate to his status as a royal prince. Shirt: made of fine white linen with light silver embroidery along the edges of the collar and cuffs, which depicted stylized dragons. Doublet: soft velvet of a deep red color with the Targaryen crest, a three-headed dragon, carefully embroidered on the chest in black and gold thread. Trousers: black wool, slightly tight so as not to hinder movement, but look strict. Belt: dark leather with a silver buckle decorated with a dragon's head. Cloak: a light cloak of dark gray satin, lined with soft fabric, fastened with a silver brooch in the shape of a dragon's head. Shoes: dark brown leather boots with soft soles, decorated with thin silver inserts.
- Do I always have to be dressed so expensively? - he murmured quietly, which made Lyra smile.
- Of course, my prince, - Mira said sweetly, buttoning his cloak.
When the maids finished dressing him, his new mother extended her hand to her son with a slight smile. Hiccup looked at her uncertainly and carefully took her hand, after which she took it and carried it in her arms. Her palm was warm, and there was something reassuring, almost calming, in this touch.
But for Hiccup, everything around him remained strange. The corridors of his new red house stretched like an endless labyrinth, their vaults were high, the ceilings were decorated with carvings and coffers, and the walls were massive stone blocks interspersed with precious mosaics. Every step on the cold stone floor, covered with carpets with images of dragons, echoed in his mind.
Hiccup was glad to be picked up. Thanks to the extra height that his new mother-queen gave him, he looked at everything around him with wide open eyes, trying not to show his confusion.
- Where am I? - he repeated mentally, feeling his heart beat faster. On the walls of the corridors hung huge tapestries depicting these scenes: dragons flying over fields ablaze with fire, and troops bowing before a three-headed dragon. On another tapestry was depicted a man like him with silver hair, holding a sword in his hand, standing in front of something, and next to him were two women with silver hair.
- It's like this place lives on the memory of the past, - he thought, looking at the tapestries. - The memory of dragons that I never knew. Why am I here? Why do they call me Rhaegar?
As they passed the huge windows, Hiccup glanced outside and was amazed by what he saw. The huge city spread out before him, like an endless sea of houses and streets drowning in haze. From this height, the city seemed like a toy, and the sea beyond it stretched to the horizon.
The halls were richly decorated: massive wrought iron chandeliers with gemstone pendants reflected the light, softly illuminating the rooms. The floors were covered with carpets with exquisite patterns depicting dragons in flight.
But even in this luxury, Hiccup felt cold. The walls, as if soaked in something ancient and gloomy, pressed on him.
- What is this place? - he thought. - Everything is so expensive here! Even Valhalla in my imagination was not so rich? There is so much grandeur and ... power here.
Along the corridors stood guards in armor decorated with symbols of a three-headed dragon. Their gaze was sternly directed forward, but Hiccup felt their eyes follow him.
Servants passing by bowed low. Some of them seemed afraid to look him or his new mother in the eyes.
- Why are they afraid? - he thought, squeezing his mother's hand a little tighter from confusion. - What do they think I am? Why am I here?
Finally, they came to a bright room. The doors, massive and carved, opened before them, and Hiccup stepped inside, smelling the fresh bread and fruit.
The room was spacious, but not too pompous. The windows overlooking the courtyard let in the soft morning light. On the walls hung paintings of dragons, battles, and scenes from the life of this clan. The furniture was made of dark wood, the table was covered with a snow-white tablecloth, and on it were plates full of delicious dishes.
The Queen Mother, whose name Hiccup did not know, gently sat him down at the table.
- Eat, my dragon. - she said, smiling. - We have a long day ahead of us.
Hiccup nodded obediently, trying to look calm. He reached for a piece of bread, spread honey on it and began to eat, thinking about what had happened to him and why his new mother was calling him a dragon, which was inappropriate for him.
The food was very tasty, even if it was just bread. But each bite was difficult for him. He looked around, noticing every detail of the room.
- Everything is different here, - he thought. - So... magnificent and beautiful. This place breathes power. But why am I here? Why do they call me a prince? Maybe the gods are mistaken about something?
Every look of Rhaella, full of love, raised new questions in him. Her concern was sincere, and it calmed and scared him at the same time.
- She sees me as her son, - he thought. - But I am not her son. I am Hiccup. I... I was Hiccup.
He felt a weight on his shoulders, as if this role of a prince was too much for him.
- If I'm in this world now, - he mused, looking away, - I need to figure out why and how to get out of here. And if this is my new body, I need to use it for something important.
Mother notices his anxiety
- You look so thoughtful, my dragon. - she noted, tilting her head slightly. - Is something troubling you?
Hiccup flinched at her voice, but quickly collected himself.
- No, Mother. I'm just thinking...
She smiled softly and ran her hand through his hair.
- You've always been so thoughtful. It's very good. Your mind is your strongest weapon, remember that. You are the Prince of Dragonstone, heir to the Seven Kingdoms and the Iron Throne, our future king. You must be smart and wise to rule us, Rhaegar Targaryen. - she said softly, brushing a strand of silver hair from Hiccup's face.
Hiccup nodded, feeling the strange warmth of her words again. He now understood where he was and what he was the prince of. Dragonstone, the Seven Kingdoms, and the Iron Throne. These names were unfamiliar to him. But now he had information about something.
He looked at her, smiling slightly, but questions were still spinning in his head. Why was he here? What did all this mean? These thoughts seemed to surround him, as if shielding him from the present moment.
Suddenly the door opened, and a young boy of about eighteen years old entered the room, along with a man dressed in heavy white armor with a white cloak and a sword on his belt. The boy's steps were confident, his posture was proud, and his gaze was commanding. He wore a long dark red cloak, lined with fur, which emphasized his status, and a golden crown with dragon patterns sparkled in the morning light. And the man in armor also had a straight posture, was tall, had pale blue eyes that looked like sad and short-cropped blond hair. He was handsome in appearance, looking strong and graceful, like a very experienced warrior.
- Good morning, my queen. - said the young man, turning to his mother. His voice was melodic, deep, and there was strength and confidence in it. - And our little prince is here too.
- Good morning, your grace. - the warrior in white armor greeted politely with a bow.
- And good morning to you, Ser Barristan.
He turned his gaze to Hiccup.
- Good morning, my prince! - Ser Barristan greeted the child with a smile.
- Good morning, Ser Barristan. - Hiccup greeted the warrior, slightly stumbling. Barristan, he had never heard such a name before.
Hiccup looked up slightly, meeting the man he thought was his new father. His father looked like a king in a fairy tale. His silver hair, long and smooth, fell to his shoulders, perfectly groomed. His face, marked by features of ancient, incredible beauty, was aristocratically refined, but not devoid of courage. High cheekbones, a straight nose and piercing purple eyes made him strikingly handsome.
The king's clothes were as majestic as he was. A dark red doublet embroidered with golden dragons clung to his figure, emphasizing his slenderness and strength. The crown, decorated with small precious stones, was a masterpiece of jewelry art: each pattern depicted dragons soaring into the sky, decorated with precious stones, and on the top of the crown were visible dragon heads.
Rhaella smiled and nodded softly to the king. - Good morning, my husband, - she greeted him. Hiccup found her voice so strange, as if she said it without any love, like a bad actress on stage.
His father approached the table, his steps were calm, but every little detail in his movements betrayed his sense of self-importance. He looked at his son, raising an eyebrow slightly.
- Rhaegar, - he said with a slight smile. - Will you not greet your father?
Hiccup, shuddering slightly, put down the bread he was holding in his hands and stood up. His voice was quiet but confident.
- Good morning, father.
Aerys smiled, his eyes sparkling with pleasure.
- It is good that you remember how an heir should behave, - he said, sinking into the chair next to his mother.
Sitting back down, Hiccup began to study this man he had to call father. His movements were confident, even graceful. There was a mixture of kindness and a hidden threat in his voice.
- He is handsome, like his mother, - thought Hiccup, examining his father's features.
The king began to talk to his mother, calling her "my wife" and addressing her with some warmth, but there was a certain detachment in his tone.
- How did our son spend the night? - he asked, raising his glass of wine.
- Everything was fine, - answered Rhaella, smiling. - He was a little thoughtful this morning, but that is normal for such an intelligent boy.
Aerys looked at Hiccup, nodding slightly.
- Are you thinking, Rhaegar? That is good. A king must be able to think.
Hiccup had a hard time keeping his expression calm.
- King... - he thought. - Am I supposed to be the king of some Family of Kingdoms now?
Hiccup watched his parents talk to each other, exchanging phrases full of formal courtesy.
- I was discussing the building of a new Wall this morning, - Aerys began, turning to Rhaella. That was his mother's name. - It should please the Starks and increase our borders.
- I'm sure it will be a wise decision, my king, - Rhaella replied, holding his gaze.
Hiccup noticed how carefully they chose their words when addressing each other. - This sounds more like a dialogue between strangers than between husband and wife, - he thought.
But he couldn't help but notice how similar their features were. Silver hair, piercing violet eyes, delicate faces... They looked as if their faces had been carved from the same stone.
- They are beautiful, - he mused. - But they are so similar. It is strange and unusual. There is something about it that makes you wary.
Hiccup felt like an observer in a theater, where everything happening was alien to him. He wanted to ask what kind of world this was, why he was here, but he knew that these questions would lead nowhere from the mouth of a small child.
- I must be careful, - he decided. - If I really am this Rhaegar, I must behave as expected. - Deep down, he was filled with fear and confusion. He was trapped in the body of a child, in this alien world, surrounded by people who saw him as someone else.
Hiccup tried to concentrate on his food, but thoughts about where he was and who he had become did not give him peace. There was a strange silence in the room, only occasionally broken by the quiet remarks of Rhaella and Aerys.
- You look as if you are lost in thought, my son, - the king said, looking up from his glass of wine, noticing his thoughtful expression. His purple eyes looked straight at Hiccup, as if he were a child.
- I'm just thinking, Father, - Hiccup replied with a small smile, trying to appear calm.
His gaze fell again on his parents' faces. Silver hair, piercing violet eyes of different shades, noble features... They really were very similar to each other. Too similar.
- Like two mirrors, - he thought, and this feeling of strangeness intensified when the father-king suddenly turned to Rhaella.
- Sister-wife, pass me the apple, - he said, pointing to the plate with red apples.
Hiccup froze. He was sure he had misheard. Sister-wife? His gaze darted to Rhaella, but she seemed to attach no importance to the words, calmly handing her husband the fruit.
- What? - Hiccup blurted out in surprise.
Both parents turned to him.
- What, my son? - the king asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.
- Father, did you call Mother... sister-wife? - he clarified, feeling his stomach clench with a strange premonition.
- Yes, that is true, - the king answered calmly, leaning back in his chair. - Your mother is my sister. We are both Targaryens, and we have the blood of the dragon in us. - The king took a sip of wine, as if his words contained nothing unusual. - In our house, in the house of Targaryen, in the house of the Dragon, it has always been customary to keep the blood pure. — he began, his voice calm, but with a note of strange pride and irritation at the same time. — We are not like other people. We are the blood of Old Valyria, the blood of Dragons. And to keep the dragon blood “pure”, we marry brothers and sisters.
Rhaella smiled slightly, nodding in agreement.
— It has been our tradition since the days of Old Valyria, Rhaegar. — she added. — It has been like this for centuries, since the time of Aegon the Conqueror.
Hiccup listened, but with each word his inner bewilderment turned to shock. He felt his palms begin to sweat, and his head was spinning from the information he received.
— Brother and sister? — flashed through his mind. — They are siblings? Is that even… normal?!
He tried to take a piece of bread to distract himself, but his hand was shaking.
— So… you are… siblings? — he asked, looking from one to the other. - Yes, - the new father confirmed with a slight grin and a hint of disdain. - Exactly. It is our pride, Rhaegar. The blood of the dragon must remain pure.
These words, spoken with pride, caused only one feeling in Hiccup - disgust.
- This is wrong, - he whispered, not realizing that he was speaking out loud.
- What did you say, son? - Rhaella asked sharply, feeling that her son's expression was beginning to change.
But before Hiccup could answer, his stomach clenched, and he suddenly felt himself vomit right on the floor next to his chair. For a moment, everything froze. Rhaella jumped up from her seat, her face expressing a mixture of worry, fear and surprise. Ser Barristan moved from his place with loud steps.
- Rhaegar! Are you alright?!" she exclaimed, rushing towards him. - Call the maester!
Aerys stood up too, his eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a word. He just took his son in his arms. Hiccup looked up, shaking, his face pale.
- Sorry... - he muttered, but his voice was weak.
Rhaella wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
- You must have eaten too much or slept poorly, - she said softly, trying to calm him down. - Come on, we'll take you to your room. - While Rhaella called the maids and "knights" to clean up the mess, Hiccup couldn't stop thinking about what he had just heard.
- This isn't right! - he thought. - This is against everything I know. Brother and sister? How can this be right? And why do they think this is pride? Where have I ended up?! Oh gods! Why are you always like this to me! I'm clearly cursed by the gods now! - He glanced at his father, whose name was Aerys. He recognized this from his mother's screams. He was also scared and worried about his tiny son. - He talks about it as if it were completely natural. But it's not. It's wrong!
For a moment, Hiccup imagined Tuffnut and Ruffnut making love and he felt even more disgusted and vomited again.
When his parents took him back to his room, Hiccup felt even more lost than when he woke up. His world seemed to have turned upside down.
- If this is their tradition, their pride, - he thought, looking at his trembling hands, - then what does this do to me? I am a part of this world. I am... their son. I am the product of this vile... act. Oh, gods!
And in that moment, he realized that living in this world would be much more difficult than he could imagine. If he lived, of course.
The servants carefully watched Hiccup in his room, helping him with everything, asking everything, next to his mother, sitting on the edge of the bed. Inside, he still felt dizzy and weak. The words "sister-wife" still echoed in his head, causing a new wave of disgust when he looked at her. She was worried about him and asked if everything was okay. It was cute, and he only nodded his head and involuntarily enjoyed her touch on his face. It was nice to receive such affection, even from such a strange mother. For a moment, he remembered his own mother and how she gently stroked his face when they spent the whole day together on dragons. He forgave her for being absent for 20 years of his life. He would treat Rhaella with understanding and love. He could not judge his mothers.
He had barely had time to come to his senses when the door creaked softly. A fat man with a gray beard and a long robe, decorated at the neck with numerous links of chain, entered the room. The old man looked as one might expect from a man who had spent a long life in service. His hunched shoulders were framed by a heavy gray robe, which seemed too big for his emaciated body. The old man's face was wrinkled, and his nose was hooked, like that of a bird of prey. His eyes were small and watery, but something cunning, almost mocking, glittered in them, a fat belly. White hair surrounded his head like a crown, and his long beard was carefully combed.
- Your Grace, - he said in his drawling, slightly hoarse voice. - The servants reported that the prince has become ill. I came to see if he was okay.
Mama nodded, still sitting. Hiccup sat on the edge of the bed, his palms still shaking. He looked at the maester and decided that, despite his strange appearance, he had to be honest.
- I threw up at breakfast, - he said, trying to sound confident. - Because I found out... that...
- Ah, - the healer drawled, raising his eyebrows slightly as he sat down opposite him. - And what is this shocking truth, my little prince?
Hiccup looked at him, still trying to process it.
- I found out that my parents are... brother and sister.
For a moment, the room was silent, Mama, the servants, and the man with the chains around his neck. Then the healer chuckled, his watery eyes glittering.
- And that worries you so much?
- And it doesn't worry you? — Hiccup asked sharply, feeling a wave of indignation roll over him.
The healer shrugged slightly, his face maintaining a strange expression of calm irony.
— Your Highness, you are a Targaryen. For your house, this is not only a common thing, but also a tradition dating back to the times of Old Valyria. It is part of your history, your blood.
Hiccup frowned, his gaze darkening.
— You think this is normal?! Siblings... together?! — he shouted.
Pycelle leaned forward slightly, looking at him with surprised eyes.
— Norms, my prince, depend on time, place and tradition. For Targaryens, this has always been a way to preserve the power of the dragon's blood. You must understand that this is not a mere whim, but a necessity and tradition of your house.
Hiccup shook his head, his hands clenching into fists.
— This is wrong. In my world, this would be forbidden and it is disgusting.
— Your world? — Pycelle asked, raising his eyebrows.
Hiccup stopped short, realizing he had said too much.
— I mean… what seems strange to me.
Pycelle chuckled again, his tone becoming slightly condescending.
— You are young, my prince. The world seems black and white to you, and the truth is absolute. But in time, you will understand that the truth is only a mirror of what is convenient for the strong.
Hiccup did not answer, but inside he was seething. The healer, noticing that the prince did not want to continue the conversation, stood up.
— The prince is fine, my queen. — he answered Rhaella. — If you need anything else, my queen, just call.
Rhaella nodded. — Thank you, Maester Pycelle. - thanked the man whose name was Maester Pycelle, and he headed for the exit, but turning around at the door, the Maester added:
- My queen, the prince sees the world differently. This is perhaps a sign of early maturation. It is very beautiful.
When the door closed behind the Maester, Hiccup was left with the servants and his mother, still feeling disgusted by what he heard.
- Dragon's blood ... - he thought. - Maybe that's what they call it. But for me it is not an excuse. And what is it?
- Rhaegar, do you want me to read to you, my son? - asked his mother, taking out books.
Hiccup thought and nodded, maybe through the books he will learn something else that will not be more.
- Yes, mother.
- Okay, - she said. - What do you want me to read about?
- About this place. About the Seven Kingdoms. - he answered. - What are these Kingdoms.
Rhaella nodded and began to read a book about Westeros. This is the continent he lives on, where there were once Seven Kingdoms. The North, the Vale of Arryn, the Weasterlands, the Stormlands, the Reach, Dorne, and the Kingdom of the Isles and Rivers. She read about each of the Kingdoms in Westeros, their histories, their kings, when they were founded, and who founded the dynasties of these Kingdoms.
Hiccup listened carefully to everything his mother read to him, memorizing every detail of the story. But then he wondered why he was called a prince of the Family of Kingdoms. If his new house, Targaryen, did not belong to any of these houses.
- Mother, why am I a prince of the Family of Kingdoms if I am not a Stark, Arryn, Lannister, or Gardener? - he asked her.
- We, son, are the lords of the Family of Kingdoms because our ancestor Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys conquered these seven separate kingdoms and founded their dynasty.
Hiccup felt uncomfortable at the mention of a certain Aegon the Conqueror having two sister-wives. - How desperate, pathetic and… disgusting a bastard do you have to be to sleep with two of your own sisters? - he thought with disgust. - But still, how did that sister-fucker conquer these kingdoms?
- Mom, how did they conquer Westeros? - Hiccup asked childishly, forgetting that he had once been a grown man.
- Of course I will, my boy. - Rhaella said, smiling wider at him. - Aegon did not have a large army. But he had something that no one else had - Dragons.
Hiccup's eyes, now dark indigo flowers, widened in surprise and, probably, from the fourth shock in recent times. He looked at Queen Rhaella and asked loudly, frightening his mother.
- Dragons?!