Dragon eggs.
Dragons were the ultimate symbol of imperial power in Westeros.
When Aegon the Conqueror landed in Westeros, he used his dragons to utterly obliterate three ancient royal houses: the Gardener Kings of the Reach, the Hoare Kings of the Isles and Rivers, and the Durrandon Storm Kings (though the Durrandon bloodline technically survived through a lone daughter).
Aegon established the rule of the Targaryen dynasty through absolute, overwhelming violence.
Dragons were simply that terrifying.
Because of this, the price of a live dragon egg was astronomically high. Even petrified dragon eggs commanded figures that beggared belief.
Take the three petrified eggs Illyrio Mopatis would eventually gift to Daenerys Targaryen. The wealth one could acquire simply by selling those three stones was enough to guarantee a life of unimaginable luxury.
Currently, the issue wasn't even the price; there was simply no market for them. Finding one was entirely a matter of luck.
Dragon eggs were the most sacred treasures of the dragonlord dynasty. A dragon egg was traditionally placed in the cradle of every newborn Targaryen child. Throughout history, only a tiny handful of eggs had ever been lost to the outside world. And the few places suspected of hiding lost eggs were universally treacherous, making it nearly impossible for anyone to investigate deeply.
But I need a dragon egg, Arthur thought.
Harrenhal and Storm's End might be invincible against ground assaults, but neither fortress could withstand dragonfire. Looking across the continent, perhaps only Casterly Rock—carved directly into the heart of a massive stone mountain—stood a chance of resisting a dragon's wrath.
More importantly, after this long summer, an equally long winter would follow. The emissaries of the Drowned God and the Great Other were coming. When the world transitioned back into a high-magic era, dragons would become absolutely essential.
Arthur believed that magic had never truly died out; it ebbed and flowed like the tide. Even during the lowest ebb, incredibly gifted sorcerers like the "Witch Queen" Alys Rivers and Brynden "Bloodraven" Rivers had still managed to emerge and wield tremendous power.
This was an era of transformation.
The tide of magic was slowly rising again, and the world was changing with it.
The children of House Stark would awaken as powerful skinchangers, and the Crow's Eye in the Iron Islands already possessed formidable, terrifying skinchanging abilities of his own. Across the Narrow Sea, figures like the Red Woman were beginning to make their moves. Soon enough, the rising magic would even drive the old Lord of the Hightower and his "Mad Maid" daughter to lock themselves away in Oldtown, obsessively delving into the arcane.
The ultimate manifestation of this magical high tide would be Daenerys, the "Mother of Dragons," hatching her three beasts.
Without the rising tide of magic, the dragons never would have hatched. And the hatching of the dragons, in turn, propelled the magical tide even higher.
In this era of resurgent magic, dragon eggs would become more precious than ever. Possessing a dragon meant possessing an unrivaled, singular air force.
Waking a dragon likely requires blood magic and the power of a specific bloodline. 'Only death can pay for life.' But I have the power of the Greenhand, Arthur reasoned.
Daenerys's hatching ritual was forged in blood and fire. But Arthur wouldn't need to go to such extremes.
Arthur's dragon blood was incredibly thin, but he had the innate talent of the "Greenhand." What he lacked in the purity of the dragon's bloodline, he could make up for by infusing the egg with the pure, primal vitality of the Greenhand.
His minuscule trace of dragon blood most likely came from House Lothston, or perhaps House Butterwell—either way, it was a diluted, fourth-generation offshoot of little real consequence. Both the Lothstons and the Butterwells had deep, scandalous ties to Aegon IV, the "Unworthy." A daughter of House Butterwell had even "entertained" the King in his bedchamber.
Ser Lucas Lothston, the former master-at-arms of the Red Keep, had been granted Harrenhal by the King in 151 AC. Both his wife and his daughter were mistresses to Aegon IV, earning Ser Lucas the charming nickname "the Pimp."
But there was no need to judge House Lothston too harshly. Even ancient, deeply respected houses like Bracken and Blackwood had eagerly pushed their daughters into the Unworthy's bed in exchange for royal favor.
In truth, before the fall of House Targaryen, dragon eggs—while precious—weren't quite this scarce.
Aegon III had summoned nine mages from across the sea in a desperate attempt to hatch his remaining stockpile of eggs. Baelor the Blessed had prayed over his egg for half a year. Aegon IV had commissioned massive wooden and iron dragons equipped with wildfire, and had literally traded a real dragon egg as the price for sleeping with a Butterwell maiden. Aerion "Brightflame" had drunk a cup of wildfire, convinced the agonizing magic would physically transform him into a dragon.
The mages failed. King Baelor's prayers went unanswered. The wooden dragons burned to ash. And Prince Aerion died screaming in agony.
Historically, there were two known instances of a ritual involving exactly seven dragon eggs.
The first occurred during the Dance of the Dragons. After Aegon II's golden dragon, Sunfyre, died, the King ordered seven eggs brought from Dragonstone to attempt a hatching ritual.
The second, more recent instance occurred just decades ago at Summerhall. When Aegon V, "Aegon the Unlikely," attempted to hatch dragons, he also used seven eggs—one for each of the Seven Gods.
So, the possibilities are limited to a few specific locations, Arthur calculated.
Across the Narrow Sea, there was Pentos, Braavos, and the smoking ruins of Valyria.
In Westeros, the prime suspects were Dragonstone, the Red Keep, and the Red Lake in the Reach. Secondary options included the Hightower in Oldtown, the Mountains of the Moon in the Vale, the cannibal island of Skagos in the North, and the ruined palace of Summerhall in the Stormlands.
Dragonstone seemed like the most obvious choice, but it was heavily guarded private property. Stannis Baratheon was notoriously rigid, unforgiving, and strictly adhered to the law. And the fat cheesemonger, Illyrio, was surrounded by a literal army of Unsullied.
Those places are either too far or too dangerous, Arthur mused, studying his map. Are the ruins of Summerhall or the Red Lake my only viable options?
He needed a dragon egg, and he had the "formula" to hatch it ready to go. But he also suspected the chances of finding one in those two locations were incredibly slim.
Aegon III, "the Dragonbane," might have despised dragons, but his regents weren't idiots. Lord Peake, in particular, was a greedy, treacherous man perpetually short on coin; he would never have left such immense wealth unaccounted for. Besides, House Targaryen had only lost their dragons at that point; they hadn't lost their minds. If there really were dragon eggs hidden away in the Reach, Houses Tyrell and Hightower would have torn the region apart trying to find and hatch them.
Harrenhal. Harrenhal.
Suddenly, Arthur's eyes lit up.
The dragon egg he sought might not be at the edge of the world; it might be right under his nose.
Aside from the aforementioned locations, it was entirely possible an egg was hidden within Harrenhal itself.
Of course! It makes perfect sense. Harrenhal was home to a dragonrider and the Witch Queen. Aemond One-Eye and Alys Rivers. Alys even claimed she was carrying Aemond's child.
Arthur found no flaws in this logic.
You couldn't talk about Harrenhal's history without mentioning those two figures. One was a brutal, one-eyed second son; the other was a bastard and a witch with mysterious origins.
Aemond's mount, Vhagar, was a she-dragon who had laid numerous clutches of eggs throughout her long life. Furthermore, Aemond had been given a dragon egg in his cradle when he was born, though it had never hatched.
During the Dance of the Dragons, Alys was at least forty years old. Though she looked much younger, rumors claimed she had given birth to a string of stillborn children. She managed to survive the capture of Harrenhal by the "Rogue Prince" Daemon Targaryen and his Black faction forces.
When the Greens recaptured Harrenhal, Aemond One-Eye executed every remaining member of House Strong in the castle. However, he spared Alys and took the older woman as his bedmate. Aemond never married; he shared a deep bond with Alys and was with her right up until his death at the Battle Above the Gods Eye.
Given this context, it was entirely plausible that Aemond had given Alys a dragon egg.
Furthermore, Alys hadn't left Harrenhal after the Dance. She had lingered in the ruined fortress for quite some time, even during the ensuing Winter Fever.
After the Dance, Alys stayed right here, Arthur thought, his hands clenching into fists.
Following the Dance, the dragon-blooded lineage of the Green faction was practically extinct. Alys, carrying Aemond's alleged child, was arguably the last fringe survivor of their line.
In 132 AC, during the regency of Aegon III, a band of broken men and outlaws gathered at Harrenhal, accepting Alys as their "Witch Queen." Acting on orders from the Hand of the King, Tyland Lannister, two Kingsguard knights—Ser Regis Groves and Ser Damon Darry—marched on Harrenhal with a hundred men to retake the castle.
After insulting the Witch Queen, Ser Regis died suddenly and violently. Some claimed Alys used magic to literally explode his head, while others insisted he was killed by a crossbow bolt or a hurled stone.
Because the realm was soon consumed by the Winter Fever epidemic, the Iron Throne abandoned its efforts, allowing Alys to rule Harrenhal unbothered for an extended period. Eventually, she vanished from history, and the matter was simply forgotten.
It's upstairs, Arthur realized, a bold theory taking shape in his mind.
If the Witch Queen had eventually died in Harrenhal as the world's magic waned, then it was highly likely a dragon egg was still hidden somewhere within its walls.