Okay, I've gone through your chapter and made corrections based on established names and lore from House of the Dragon / Fire & Blood, while trying to maintain the core of your fanfiction narrative.
Here are the key areas I focused on:
* Character Names: Standardized spellings (Corlys, Rhaenys, Laena, Laenor, Daemon, Vermithor, Silverwing, Jaehaerys I).
* Location Names: Corrected to canonical names (Driftmark, High Tide, Dragonmont, Ironoaks).
* Titles/Events: Adjusted "101st Congress" to "Great Council of 101 AC" and Rhaenys's epithet.
* Consistency: Ensured character name consistency (e.g., "Jen Sifu").
* Minor Lore Adjustments: Clarified Laena's previous betrothal.
* Dialogue/Narrative Po
"Congratulations, Prince."
Jen Sifu took small steps forward and offered praise immediately.
Aemon said with a smile: "Congratulations on what?"
"Excuse my limited knowledge."
Jen Sifu said self-deprecatingly, pointing at the light gray and white little wild dragon, and whispered: "But you should blow the whistle to call them."
"You guessed it right."
Aemon's smile widened.
He specially dug out a piece of dragon bone from the Dragonmont on Dragonstone Island and polished it into the hilt of the Valyrian steel sword "Light of the Kingdom." (Note: Mithril is not from ASOIAF; Valyrian steel is the prized material for swords).
The remaining small section of the dragon bone was repeatedly carved into a dragon bone whistle.
I don't know how much energy it takes to make a whistle that is as long as a finger.
Jen Sifu looked at the dragon bone whistle and said timidly, "Blowing it can summon the dragon?"
From her eyes, you can tell that she really wants to try it.
"I can."
Aemon took off the dragon bone whistle and handed it over, adding: "If the dragonless person blows it, there might be a surprise."
"What a surprise."
Jen Sifu was eager to try.
Aemon said calmly, "Dragonflame or something."
Both are possible.
"Then you must keep it well."
Jen Sifu smiled awkwardly and withdrew her little hand that was raised in the air.
She just had never ridden a dragon, not that she wanted to feel the burn.
Aemon said: "I am going to Ironoaks and tell Johanna to prepare to build a dock."
"Prince, Lord Waynwood..."
Jen Sifu wanted to persuade her again.
Aemon turned and climbed onto the dragon's back, determined to see the mixed character of the nobles in the Vale.
Jen Sifu frowned slightly and shut her mouth tactfully.
Regardless of the outcome of the trip to Ironoaks, building a dock was imperative.
"Hiss—"
Vermithor raised his head and let out a long roar. He flapped his broad brown wings and his huge body rose from the ground.
Silverwing emerged from the clouds and followed her partner.
One dragon is a hundred meters long, and the other is over fifty meters long.
At first glance, the size difference seems to be twice as big, but in fact the visual impact is stronger.
Vermithor is so huge that it is comparable to most sturdy castles. When its wings are spread out, it can completely cover Silverwing.
The two flying together is like the difference between an eagle and a sparrow.
"Hiss~~"
The gray shadow looked around, then turned and flew back to the shore of Chang Lake. (Assuming Chang Lake is an OC location)
It's too small.
Even if they followed, no one would notice the little wild dragon that was the same color as the clouds.
Half an hour later.
Aemon rode Vermithor, broke through the layers of clouds and dived down from the sky.
The scene below changes.
A vast freshwater lake and an ancient castle built on an island in the lake.
There are fishing boats of all sizes moored on the river bank.
The castle has fallen into disrepair and is covered with moss and vines.
"Land, Vermithor!"
Aemon narrowed his eyes and recognized that this was the neighboring Ironoaks.
"Hiss—"
"Hiss…"
Both Vermithor and Silverwing roared, circled around the ancient castle, and slowly landed beside the suspension bridge leading to the island in the lake.
The sound was so loud that all the birds and beasts within a radius of dozens of miles were startled.
Aemon climbed down from the dragon's back and thumped to the ground.
At the other end of the wooden suspension bridge, the butler and servants had come out to greet them.
…
Driftmark.
High Tide, Hall of Nine. (Assuming "Jiuhang Hall" refers to the Hall of Nine in High Tide; "Climax City" is not a canonical name for High Tide or any Velaryon holding).
"Did the trip go smoothly?"
The Sea Snake, Corlys Velaryon, stepped down from the Driftwood Throne to greet his travel-weary daughter.
Laena smiled and said proudly, "Of course, Gulltown and Crab Isle both agree to form an alliance."
It is rare for a girl to show her mischievous side in front of her father.
"Well done, we need allies."
Corlys smiled and praised his daughter generously.
His two children are the great achievements of his life.
"Mother."
Laena walked to the wine cabinet, picked up a glass of wine and took a sip. (Sake is out of place in Westeros).
Rhaenys Targaryen said "hmm" softly, not interested in the conversation between father and daughter.
Ever since the failure of the Great Council of 101 AC, she has always believed that women should not participate in politics.
Maybe it's not that they shouldn't, but that participating in politics won't be recognized.
No matter how sensible and capable the daughter is, Driftmark will be inherited by Laenor, the second-born child.
Corlys was keenly aware of his wife's emotions. His deep eyes flickered as he mentioned something: "The letter said that you met Daemon's son in Gulltown?"
"Yes, the nobles of the Vale seem to be deliberately making things difficult for Aemon."
Laena answered evasively.
"It's normal to make things difficult for him. That should have been his father's responsibility, but it fell on him."
Corlys was old, so he naturally knew many secrets.
His Majesty King Jaehaerys I (often called the Old King or the Conciliator) intended to spread the family bloodline and placed his hopes on his young and promising grandson Daemon.
Unfortunately, Daemon had no intention of shouldering the burden.
If the previous generation does not work hard, the next generation will suffer a lot.
Laena's eyes flickered and she smiled, "Aemon did a good job, and he developed the river valley in a very impressive way."
She wanted to test her father's attitude.
In recent years, I have heard her father's abuse of Aemon and his son many times.
Corlys glanced at his daughter and said shockingly, "That boy is pretty good. Did you catch him?"
"Father!"
Laena blushed.
Rhaenys frowned and said unhappily, "Corlys, you went too far."
What kind of father would say something like that to his daughter?
"When it comes to family blood, you should be honest."
Corlys smiled slightly, and was very happy: "It seems that my daughter has indeed fascinated that young boy."
Damn Daemon, giving birth to a son who is like a copy and paste.
It's still up to him to ask for it.
Laena had a stern face and kept silent.
I wanted to test my father's attitude, but unexpectedly all her secrets were dug up.
She didn't speak, but someone else wanted to speak.
Corlys snatched the wine glass from his wife's hand and drank happily: "Didn't His Majesty the King choose that boy as Rhaenyra's choice? Could it be that the princess was on a tour to choose a husband and irritated that boy?"
What a wonderful drama, it has been performed by the Targaryen family almost from generation to generation.
Laena was silent for a moment.
It is not difficult to see from Aemon's attitude that he also has a close relationship with Rhaenyra.
She is a latecomer who has surpassed the others.
The Corlys man was very experienced and saw the clues at a glance. He frowned and said, "It is indeed Daemon's son. He wants to step on the royal family and the Velaryon family."
No fear of drowning.
"Okay, Corlys. You've asked enough questions."
Rhaenys's face fell.
He patted his daughter's arm and said softly, "Go back and rest first. Don't pay attention to him."
Laena turned and walked out.
Bang!
The door closed from the outside, and the dull sound broke the silence.
Corlys tasted the wine silently, his eyes as deep as the abyss.
"You shouldn't say this to your daughter. She's still engaged." (Referring to Laena's previous betrothal to the son of the Sealord of Braavos).
Rhaenys was proud of herself.
"So what?"
Corlys said confidently: "I can cancel the engagement anytime I want."
Keeping the betrothal to the son of the Sealord of Braavos was only to discourage the influx of suitors.
Rhaenys rolled her eyes and said, "You are the most powerful noble in the Seven Kingdoms. You should have some pride."
Corlys shook his head and laughed: "Pride can't turn the modest castle of High Tide into the thriving port it has become, nor can it make you get rid of the title of 'The Queen Who Never Was'."
"However, detailed and careful planning can help you weather every storm."
This is the life experience of an old sailor.
It is all thanks to these experiences that he has come this far.
Rhaenys knew she couldn't convince her husband, so she said helplessly, "Corlys, you're still upset about that matter."
"That position was supposed to be yours."
Corlys stared at his wife and said, "Don't you dream about losing the ballot all these years?"
Rhaenys was speechless.
How could I not care?
That day was a denial of her life, and everything about it is still fresh in her mind.
"Viserys is a mediocre man, how can he sit on the Iron Throne?"
Corlys became more and more angry as he spoke, and asked, "I am doing my duty as a subject and just want my bloodline to be closer to the Iron Throne. Is that wrong?"
His children are no worse than anyone else!
Some members of the Targaryen family throughout the ages were unable to ride a dragon.
Why couldn't Viserys marry Rhaenyra to Laenor, and why couldn't Daemon's son marry his daughter.
Even Aegon the Conqueror had a mother named Velaryon.
Each shout was like a steel knife chiseling at Rhaenys's heart.
Rhaenys's chest felt stuffy and she could hardly breathe: "Corlys, stop talking."
"I'm just complaining."
Corlys calmed down and supported his staggering wife.
He actually knew very well that his wife was just as depressed as he was.
The couple has a common code.
That's "family".
Live for family, for each other's family.
Rhaenys closed her eyes and sighed, "I don't care about Laena, but don't even think about Laenor marrying the princess. He is not qualified to be a husband."
A wise child is better than his mother.
She knew better than anyone what Laenor's orientation was.
Even if he became a prince, he couldn't reproduce his bloodline.
Corlys hesitated for a moment and agreed: "Okay, I'll give them a chance to choose."
"I'm going to find Laena. She's terrified by you."
Rhaenys felt slightly relieved.
After she leaves.
Corlys called a servant and asked, "Where is Laenor? Where is he?"
The servant blushed and stammered, unable to speak.
"Go out."
Corlys looked gloomy and threw away his sleeves.
No need to guess, which lover he is having sex with again.
…
Vale, Ironoaks.
Aemon walked across the wooden drawbridge and saw the closed castle gates.
"Prince, please use it."
The old butler took the tray from the servant and handed it to him respectfully.
Aemon's eyes were stern, and the old butler felt uneasy under his gaze.
"Thanks for your hard work."
When cold sweat broke out on his forehead, he picked up a piece of bread, dipped it in salt and ate it.
This is considered to be the completion of guest etiquette.
Boom!
The castle gate slowly opened, revealing a rather dim and cramped hall.
Ironoaks was built on an island in the lake, so its area was naturally not very large.
Compared to a normal castle, the hall is small.
Aemon walked on the bluestone floor tiles in the hall and saw an old man with a small mustache sitting in the main seat from a distance.
The old man looked to be in his forties or fifties, with sparse hair and gray temples, and wrinkles on his face that looked like ravines.
He is not young, and his eyes are particularly bright and shrewd.
Narrow eyes, high cheekbones, and thin lips.
At first glance, he looks cunning and mean.
"Are you Prince Aemon Targaryen the Dragon Slayer?"
Lord Waynwood tilted his head, holding a rustic young girl in his arms. (Assuming "Red" was a descriptor or an OC first name you might want to remove or clarify. I've used the house name).
Below him and to his left, stood a row of girls with their heads down and no words.
People are of different ages and have different appearances.
"That's me, Lord Waynwood."
Aemon walked to the center of the hall and looked around unconcealedly.
On the main wall of the hall hangs a banner of House Waynwood.
A broken wheel on a black field, quartered with green. (Corrected Waynwood sigil description if that's what "broken rudder on a dark green background" was aiming for; if not, your OC sigil description is fine).
The girls standing in a row in the hall all wore simple accessories with corresponding family emblems.