First Meeting: A Dunk & Egg Fanfiction
I really wanted to read what went down from Aegon's perspective and since no one was writing it, I decided to write it myself.
(First, a few disclaimers. 1. I have not written fanfiction since I was a 1st year college girl many years ago writing my own lame melodrammatic version of the final Harry Potter book before it was published. 2. I don't know a lot about horses or armour, so the parts I couldn't take from the book, I sort of glossed over. 3. There were interruptions with group chats and I paused several times to check election results. And 4. Finally, the most important disclaimer: I am not George R R Martin and I don't own anything, but if I was, I wouldn't admit to it because I can't write Winds of Winter)
P.S: Photo from the show. Illustration from the book.
Aegon was having a bad day. Not only was Daeron not taking him to Ashford, he had also shaved off all his hair. For safety, he had said. But Aegon could deal with a cold head if he could just go to the tourney as a squire, like he was supposed to. But Daeron didn't want to go to Ashford. How was Aegon to become a knight for Uncle Baelor's Kingsguard someday if he never got to be a squire in the first place?To make things worse, the inn was quite empty. Forget running into other knights who might let him join their party, it seemed even the locals had all already gone off to Ashford. All Aegon had was a drunk brother (and the gods knew Aegon loved him, with Aemond off to the citadel, Daeron was all he had, but he could be trying at times) who scarcely remembered he had a brother once he had a few cups in him.
The day had been hot and there had been nothing to do inside anyway, so while Daeron got himself drunk, Egg slipped away to wash himself in the little stream outside. While he was drying himself, he heard hoove beats. Aegon's heart leapt with joy. At last! Perhaps some knight was riding late to the tourney. As he peeked into the stable and saw the man riding in however, his hopes fell again. This man was clearly smallfolk, in a dusty, shabby cloak of an indeterminate greyish shade. He looked to be around his brother Aemond's age.
A farmer going to the tourney perchance? But no, the horses were healthy, strong even. Was he going to watch the tourney, perhaps? And make some coin by the sale of horses while there? He had three horses. Could Aegon hitch a ride with him? And then find some knight to squire for?The man alighted and his eyes fell on Aegon. He wore a broadsword, Aegon noted. And he also wore a shield on his back. A sellsword, then? Or just some farmer carrying arms in case there were robbers on the road. It did not matter as long as he was going towards Ashford. Aegon could maybe pay him for a ride. Daeron had coins, and he was too drunk to notice if Aegon took some.
Before he could say anything however, the man spoke first."Hello there. Are you the stable boy?"How wonderful. He looked like a stable boy now. At least his disguise was working. Thanks brother!
"Could you tend to them?" The man spoke again. Aegon looked up. And then he looked really up again. The man was tall and lean. He looked like he could fight. He wore a grayish dusty cloak and a belt made of rope, from which hung the broadsword. What was he?
"I could, if I wanted." He answered.
"None of that!" The man frowned. "There will be a copper for you if you do it well, and a clout in the ear if you don't."
Don't let my father hear you say that, Aegon thought.
As the man left, Aegon saw the device on his shield. A winged chalice. Those weren't the arms of any house he had read about. He would have to ask Aemond when he met him.
Oats for all three and the palfrey needed rubbing down, the man had said. Aegon didn't mind. This was a squire's job that he had trained for, after all. And besides, he liked horses. He had wanted one of his own for his name day but father said he was still too small. His cousin Valarr let him ride with him sometimes, if they were both at the Red Keep. But most of the times, he was at Summerhall with his father and brothers. Daeron taught him sometimes, when he was not in his cups. There was no question of Aerion teaching him anything, of course. He looked around. Surely, the man was going to rest a while, mayhaps even spend the night at the inn? He did look tired. Aegon walked up to the black horse as it quietly chewed its oats. This one was different from the other two horses, he could tell, with its gleaming flanks and rippling muscles. It could fit right in at his father's stables. He patted down its shoulder. The horse nuzzled against his chest. It liked him. Aegon touched the saddle bag. It was something hard and metal! He peeked inside. Armour! Mail, helmet, the works. The man was a knight, after all!
Taking another quick look behind him, he put them on. It wasn't easy work because it was made for someone bigger than him and the mail coat fell well below his knees. But it would do. Now, to ride. He had sneaked into the stables at Summerhall a few times, but the stable hands would be there. He stared up the horse. He could scarcely reach its back with his hands.
I can do this, he said to himself. Their ancestors used to ride dragons. He himself had a dragon egg put in his cradle. Someday, it might hatch. Surely horses were smaller than dragons. He hopped a couple of times, and then caught hold of the stirrup, missed, tried again, and hauled himself upward in a series of awkward, determined scrambles—feet slipping, fingers clutching at the mane, at the bridle, at anything he could grasp at, but not letting go. There. He had done it. He took hold of the reins. If only he had a sword! He would ride into Ashford by himself right now, enter himself in the lists and knock Aerion off his horse with his lance.
Aegon went cold. It was the big man. He was back. He tried to scramble back down.
"My Lord, I didn't mean to offend..."
The man strode forward and seized him, not roughly, as stern as he was trying to look, and put him down on the ground.
“Thief,” the man said, but Egg saw that he was holding back laughter. He had been scared and embarrassed at being caught, but this made him angry. He might be puny now, but he was going to grow someday.
“Take off that armor, and be glad that Thunder didn’t kick you in that fool head. He’s a warhorse, not a boy’s pony.” The man said.
Aegon took off the helm and flung it to the straw. “I could ride him as well as you,” he said. He could. He'd seen plenty of warhorses.
“Close your insolent mouth ! The hauberk too, take it off. I'm a knight, I'll have you know."
“You don't look to be a knight.” Aegon retorted. He wriggled out of the chain mail and let it fall.
“What, all knights look the same, do they?" The man replied. “Now pick up that mail, shake off the dirt, and put it back where you found it. And the halfhelm too. Did you feed the horses, as I told you? And rub down Sweetfoot?”
“Yes,” Aegon replied, as he shook straw from the mail. So he was a real knight? And he hadn't given him a beating either, though he had found Aegon wearing his armour and riding his horse. He looked poor, but he seemed a kind man. Perhaps a good knight too, even if his belt was made of rope.
“You’re going to Ashford, aren’t you? Take me with you, ser.”
The man looked a bit exasperated.“And what might your mother say to that?”
“My mother? My mother’s dead, she wouldn’t say anything.”
The man paused as something flickered in his eyes.“Are you an orphan boy?” he asked. There was something about the way he asked that question. Perhaps Aegon could appeal to their commonalities. He did lose a parent, after all. It wasn't lying if didn't expressly say anything about his father.
“I was once,” The man admitted, his face softening just a little bit.
"Till the old man took me in, and made me his squire, and taught me everything he knew. The best he could."
“If you took me, I could squire for you and you could teach me, the best you could.” Aegon said quickly.
“I have no need of a squire,” he said.
“Every knight needs a squire,” Aegon said. “You look as though you need one more than most.”
The man raised a hand threateningly. “And you look as though you need a clout in the ear, it seems to me. Fill me a sack of oats. I’m off for Ashford … alone.”
Aegon stared at him. He didn't need to take orders from this stupid man. He would go right back and take Daeron's horse and... no he couldn't. He had never ridden a horse all in his own, that too out in the country. He turned and started filling a sack. Stupid, stupid man. He was going to Ashford, one way or the other.
The man climbed on his horse, and then turned a threw a penny at him with a smile."For your help." He said.
Aegon didn't catch it. It dropped on the hay with a dull thump. He made no move to pick it up. He didn't need money. He wanted to be a knight's squire. As a matter of fact, he wanted to be this knight's squire. The man shrugged and rode out. Was he really leaving without him? He was his one chance to the tourney! Aegon watched as the sound of hooves faded into the darkness. Then, he picked up the penny, his tiny fist tightening around the small, hard shape. Did not need a squire, did he? He, Aegon Targaryen would see about that.
"Where have you been?" The innkeeper called out as he entered the dining hall. "Your brother already went up. Are you hungry? I could get you some of the leftover fish but I'm afraid there would be no more lamb till the cart arrives in the morning."
"Fish is fine," said Egg as he slipped the penny inside his tunic.
