Chapter 3- I Don't Dance

Six days since I claimed Arrax, and I still hadn’t been able to do the ritual. Whenever I came close to doing it, something always talked me out of it. My mind was the only special thing about me. Would I really want to risk that for a vague physical advantage? Meagor could get away with madness, but I was already a bastard, hated as a spawn of lust and sin. Very few people needed an excuse to want me dead. No need to give them justification for their unfounded bigotry.

Even more apparent was the fact that I didn’t really need the enhancement. I’d thought the Valyrians too cocksure and arrogant when they called themselves the highest of races, but on Arrax’s back, it was hard to disagree. Since Vermithor didn’t rouse himself from his roost very often, Arrax and I were pretty much kings of the sky here. The Grey ghost and Sheepstealer scurried at our approach. They feared the Cannibal, and seeing some of the most dangerous creatures in the world flee my approach gave me a heady feeling. Speaking of Arrax, I was on the way to meet him right now. The Saddle maker had finally finished modifying one for Arrax’s size, so my days of riding bareback would finally be over. The Maester had advised me to wait till the Saddle was ready to ride Arrax again, but his advice had fallen on deaf ears. Flying was addictive.

I walked up to my dragon, caressing his thick black scales and whispering to him in high Valyrian as he nuzzled into me. I waved my other hand at the servants and dragon keepers carrying the saddle. They moved quickly to set up the saddle while I kept the Cannibal sated. He might have been bonded to me, but he was still a wild dragon nonetheless. He growled as one of the handlers made the mistake of pressing too hard on his neck. The beast had a litany of old scars from countless fights with his fellow dragons. Another benefit of choosing the Cannibal over the others. He had the most experience when it came to fighting other dragons.

When they finally finished attaching the saddle and had left the dragon alone, I stepped back and stopped whispering.  I had no need to ask for his permission now. Our desires were so aligned that there were very few things that could stop us from going into the air. Even the rare sight of the Maester running out from the castle while waving a letter couldn’t do the trick. It was amusing, but not enough to delay this pleasure.

The moment I’d chained myself to the saddle, Arrax took off from the ground in a blur. We accelerated so quickly that I’d have fallen off and gone splat without the chain holding me to the dragon. He levelled off once he got to a good height, and the real fun began. We’d gone on flights in the past few days, but The Cannibal had despised having to hold back for my safety. Now, he was free to do as he desired and he desired a lot of acrobatics, it would seem. Barrel roll after barrel roll, swooping dive after swooping dive. We did them all, screaming in shared pleasure all the way. I’d thought flying was the greatest pleasure I’d ever known even before the saddle. Now, it ruined every other high for me. Drugs, booze, women, all ruined for me. None of them could ever come close to matching the pleasure I felt in this moment.

My bond with Arrax made things feel even better. He felt what I felt and vice versa. His enjoyment stoked mine and mine, in turn, stoked his. A continuous feedback loop of dopamine and pure unadulterated joy. We remained in the sky for close to four hours on that day.

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I looked at the letter in my hands with a scowl on my face. I’d thought I’d have more time, at least. More time to grow into myself, more time to even decide what I wanted to do with my life in this new world. Now, the King had summoned me to King’s landing with all haste, and I knew I’d have no time to dally. The best I could do was wait a few days to prepare an escort. Anymore and it would get suspicious. The thought of refusing didn't even come to mind. Daemon was the King’s brother, but I was nothing more than a bastard he’d never met. I couldn’t rely on Viserys’ illogical love for family to extend to me as well.

All resistance I had to the ritual fell away instantly. I was going to King’s landing. The most dangerous place in the realm for me at the moment, except maybe, Dorne, but no matter what the Targaryens claimed, Dorne was no part of this realm. The Dragonpit ensured that I’d be separated from Cannibal for long periods of time. I needed to be more than capable of protecting myself in case anyone got any ideas in their heads. Don’t get me wrong, no ritual would save me if the king ordered all seven of the Kingsguard to bring him my head but I doubted he’d want to be seen breaking guests right so brazenly. He’d probably send one or two assassins at the very most. Any more, and it would be difficult to claim even the illusion of innocence. THe best part was the moment the assassins came for my head, I’d be free to leave the capital. Only if I survived the attack, of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be leaving much of anything.

I waited for nightfall and dressed in my riding leathers quickly. There were no guards at my door, and I found it easy to sneak out of the castle.

I arrived at The Cannibal’s roost in the courtyard, his bulk taking the entire space. He was already awake on my approach. Dragons needed less sleep than humans, after all. I whispered to him in High Valyrian, begging him to be silent as we left the castle. I climbed the saddle and whispered again, “soves” He clambered onto his feet, and started rushing straight at the castle while waving his wings. The very first time he’d done this, I’d screamed myself hoarse in fright, but this time I just watched with a smile as he took to the air in a vertical climb as we got close enough to the castle. He levelled off when we were at least a hundred feet above the Island, and flew us straight at the dragon’s mount. While the faith didn’t have the dominance they’d gain in Baelor’s rule, Jaeharys’ had been good to them. They were powerful enough that I wasn’t going to take the risk of being caught doing magic, and the Dragonsmount was the one place I was sure no human would accidentally wander upon me. No one with half a brain cell would dare travel the expanse claimed by all the dragons on dragonstone. Even the so-called ‘tame’ dragons, who knew human riders were still more likely than not to eat any random humans they encountered.

I smiled when we arrived and took out my tools from the satchel on my side. I’d been gathering the materials for years now, with a mixture of clandestine trips to the kitchen, the marketplace of Dragonstone and negotiations with several of the traders that visited the port of Dragonstone. Was there anything one couldn’t acquire with sufficient gold? The answer was no. At least, that’s what acquiring these tools had taught me.

I started with the  salt. A precious commodity in this world that cost me a pretty penny. Spreading it in a circle around both Arrax and myself, forming runes of High Valyrian as I went, I whispered the words Visenya had written in her journal. Her instructions had been precise and I followed them to the letter. The next part was the blood. One of the first ways I’d figured that there was magic in this world was the fact that my blodd did not go bad. Whenever I stored some blood for future, it remained as fresh as it was the day I’d produced it. It was undeniable proof that some of the magic of the ancient Valyrians still lived on, to this day.

I used all my store of blood to line the runes, and then I had to do the hard part. I had to take some of Arrax’s own blood. I didn;t even bother approaching his scales since I’d never succeed, and even the inside of his body was tough and difficult to penetrate with my limited strength. He would have to help draw his own blood for the ritual. Luckily, I’d already explained the ritual to him, and he seemed eager to improve himself with it, so convincing him to bleed a bit was less difficult than it would otherwise have been. Not easy, by any means, but it only took ten minutes for him to bite his tongue and dribble drops of blood down on all the required points. His blood was the final catalyst, and the runes started sizzling before I even finished the ritual. I hurried to complete the last part. Visenya had told me that Dragon blood evapourated quickly. It burned so hot it couldn’t stay liquid for long.

I stretched my hands to the sky and screamed in the language of my ancestors, “Gods of Old Valyria, hear my prayer. Make me his, and make him mine. Bond us. I give all that I am, blood, spirit, essence, and he does same. Join us, bind us, make us one. The best of me and the best of him. Burn all that remains” I finished the incantation and watched the salt runes catch fire . They burned an ethereal blue flame. My fascination didn’t last long as I felt my body erupt in pain.

It felt like lava in my blood, running through and burning the impurities. I could try my best to describe the pain, but words would fail. Instead, I’ll give an example. Have you ever been kicked in the nuts? Now imagine that pain multiplied by a hundred and spread out across your whole body. Good, now you understand a portion of the pain that went through me. I wasn’t alone in my pain though. A distant part of my mind noted that Arrax was also roaring in pain. His seemed less intense than mine though. I didn’t notice much of anything beyond that since I passed out very quickly.

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When I came to, I found myself laying on the floor in the same clearing I’d used for the ritual. My thoughts didn’t experience the usual blurry sluggishness upon my awakening. I’d never transitioned from sleep to wakefulness so quickly. It felt surreal, as I stood in the clearing, locking eyes with my dragon. Arrax had woken before me, and seemed to have settled for watching me sleep. Now that the ritual was concluded, my bond with Arrax felt deeper, more primal, more. I could feel the very core of Arrax’s essence, where before we could only convey vague feelings and impressions. I’d never truly needed the whip that came attached to the saddle for directing Arrax, but the ritual ensured that I’d never need to shout or speak to do so again.

This was proven when Arrax lumbered forward and laid down his neck so I could climb on to the saddle without me having to say anything or even express my desires. He knew what I wanted as much as I did. That’s also why I didn’t bother speaking to direct him to take off. He just did. Our next destination wasn’t the castle as originally planned. Arrax was hungry, and had grown tired of having the servants bring him his meals. He wanted to hunt. Luckily, it hadn’t taken too much effort to convince him to avoid the hatchery to sate his hunger. Before the ritual, I’d ensured he was consistently plied with food to ensure that he was never hungry enough to succumb to his cannibalistic instincts, now that his brain capacity had been enhanced beyond the instinctive mind of a beast, he could understand that cannibalism was bad and was unlikely to succumb to those desires unless he was ever truly starved. Even Men could become beasts when hungry enough.

We had two choices, we could either hunt on the Island itself, or fly a bit further for more interesting prey. The latter option was most tempting, but only the fact that I hadn’t warned anyone at the castle stayed my hand. Disappearing for a night might have been overlooked. Doing the same for a few days wouldn’t end well. We went towards the Blackwater instead. Dragonstone had very little wildlife variety. Nothing entertaining to hunt. The bay, however, was teeming with undiscovered fish species. Besides, I needed to fly further distances with the Cannibal. We had to work on his skills after all.

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“Introducing, Aegon Waters, rider of The Cannibal.” The Herald spoke out in a booming voice as I rode into the courtyard of the red keep. I swallowed the scowl that threatened to build across my face. It wouldn’t do to be seen as being as unreasonable and volatile as my father. Blowing up at an insult that was technically true was practically guaranteed to have me placed in the same category as Daemon in these people’s eyes. Lesser even, for I was a bastard.

“Arrax” I told the herald as I rode past him. “His name his Arrax. ‘The Cannibal’ is nothing more than a title” The man nodded as I passed and I felt the smile I was holding on to become more genuine. When I was close enough to the King and his enterouge, I smoothly dismounted and went on one knee. It grated at my pride to bow to a man like Viserys. A man so weak, his weakness would destroy a century of Targaryen dominance and lay the groundwork for the extinction of his house. Truly pitiable.

“I am at your service, your grace. My sword and the hand that weilds it are yours to command.” I said in the customary greeting that Knights in the crownlands had used for centuries. The significance of it was probably missed by most of the people here, but it amused me so that was enough for my purposes.

“My Nephew. It brings me great joy to see you well. Your growth is impressive. Quite big for four-and-ten, aren’t you? Just like your father” He spoke with a wistful tone and seemed to trail off until the Queen cleared her throat and he coughed before continuing.

“Rise. Be welcome in my halls and partake of my bread and salt” He said. I could hear the smile in his voice.

I stood up and watched him break off a bit of bread, dip it in salt and eat, while I did the same with the bread the servant brought my way. With the niceties over, I could pay attention to the King;s entourage. His wife stood by his right hand side, and the Princess by his right. I could see why she was called the Realm’s delight now. She was beautiful. Valyrian looks taken to their fullest extent. Bright purple eyes, silver hair and skin as pale as snow. She was breathtaking.

I felt an elbow did into my side and realised I’d been staring. I ignored the muffled chuckles of my new sworn sword and tried to pretend like I hadn’t just been undressing the King’s daughter right in front of him. Luckily for me, it seemed like she’d also been doing the same. I turned to the rest of the family, noting Aegon and Aemond, looking hale and hearty. Aegon was only about four years younger than I was so there wasn’t much to note about the ten year old. He looked just like every other ten year old. The same could be said for Aemond as well. The most interesting party was the missing one. Otto Hightower hadn’t shown up. Unsurprising.

A/N; How’s this chapter look?