I Don't Dance- Chapter 2

‘Daemon was right’, I thought, as Arrax and I flew through the skies. Flying was definitely different when you were the one in control. Flying on The Blood Wyrm’s back with Daemon in control was miles different from being the one to direct The Cannibal through the sky. He barely listened, but I could give him a few directives through our bond and he considered them before decided if he wanted to or not. Daemon had prepared me for this though. A dragon is not a slave. They did as they willed. The only secret was to make what I willed similar to what they wanted. Dragons had only three basic needs or wants; food, rest and entertainment. Food was simple. Rest was even simpler. Entertainment was the hard part. I could promise that by flying, or even war. I could even promise entertainment by taking the dragon hunting and shoot two birds with the same stone.

A dragon without entertainment deteriorated as quickly as if it was being starved or forced to go long periods without rest. THankfully, the older the dragon, the less entertainment it needed, so I didn’t need to dedicate my entire life to The Cannibal. He was one of the oldest living dragons after all, speculated to be older than even Vhagar by some sources. The most reliable placed him as old as the conquest definitely.

Why isn’t he bigger, then? I hear you ask. Well, the answer is simple. No one fucking knows. He’s at least a few decades older than Vermithor and speculated to be around the same age as Vhagar, but he was still just comparable to Vermithor in size. In the dark cave, I’d mistaken him for bigger, but now that we flew through the sky, It was clear to me. Daemon had taken me to meet Vermithor once or twice before and I found it nearly impossible to tell who was bigger between the both of them.

This was going to be quite problematic. After all, I’d claimed Arrax thinking he’d be bigger and being willing to take whatever challenges came about as a result of my decision because I’d have the second largest dragon in Westeros, but now, I realised that I could have just bonded with Vermithor and gotten essentially the same benefits with less disadvantages. After all, I wasn’t so blind to see how a bastard claiming a dragon like the Cannibal would be seen.

Perhaps sensing where my thoughts were going, Arrax growled and roared before entering into a steep dive. It took all the strength in my small frame to keep ahold of him as he did so. We flew down so quickly, it felt like we were falling, and then as the ground began to get so close, we weren’t falling anymore. Arrax spread his wings and arrested his momentum miraculously. From this high up, I couldn’t clearly see the smallfolk of dragonstone, but I could clearly hear the city’s bells. I guess seeing The Cannibal flying over a city was enough to cause some alarm.

No need to cause even more, so I tried guiding Arrax over to the castle. He wanted to fly across the sea with his new rider, but my promises that we would get to do all that and more tomorrow stayed him for now. I could see the castle come to life at our approach. Arrax and I did a few laps around the place to ensure we were seen before I directed him to land in the middle of the courtyard. I felt my legs vibrate and my pelvis creak as he landed with very little regard for my presence on his back.

My words of reproach were ignored and I swore I could see amusement in his eyes. Fucking bastard. I managed to make my way down and towards the dragon keepers and guards waiting a distance away. “A pig. A big one, immediately.” I barked at one of the servants and watched him scurry away before I turned to the captain of the guards.

“The Cannibal, my lord? Prince Daemon had expected the bronze dragon, or even his mate, but definitely not this one. You’ve cost me a bit of gold” I only smiled at the man who’d been like a second father to me for so long before I turned to face the dragon keepers.

“I advise you to stay away from Arrax. He is still wild, do not mistake him for anything less. I will take charge of his feeding, his cleaning and his measurements for a saddle. I will care for him. THis will be his roost for now, but worry not, he will return to the mountain once our bond strengthens some.

The servant managed to return with the pig surprisingly quickly. The thing was even alive. I looked at it and walked towards it, taking the rope from the servant as I did. Dragging the thing towards Arrax was more difficult than I’d expected. No animal wanted to approach a dragon, I guess. My fourteen year old body found it especially difficult to move the heavy pig. I wasn’t going to ask for help though. I ended up needing a few minutes to drag it over to Arrax. When it was finally close enough, I made sure the rope and I were very much separated before I ordered, “Dracarys.” A blast of green flames covered the pig in a second and my dragon wasted no time in diving into his meal.

“Call the saddlemaker. I require one for my dragon” I shouted over at the servants standing off to the side. They scurried away instantly. Normally, I’d be more polite, but even looking beyond the mediaeval society we were in and how that might be looked upon by the people who actually mattered, these servants were assholes.

Daemon had outlawed speaking ill of me but that had made them more careful about where they spewed their poison. The disease known as the Faith of the Seven had found its way into Dragonstone during the reign of Jaehaerys and the faith’s teaching on bastards was clear and unequivocal. I probably would have no idea of the hatred they had of me if I didn’t spend more time in the secret passages than I did in my rooms. I didn’t need as much sleep as someone my age would normally need so there was a lot of time to explore.

Speaking of my explorations, there was another purpose to them beyond solving my boredom and letting me know what the staff of the castle truly thought about me. I was searching for magic. There was no way the Targaryens left Valyria without a single book, or scroll, or even a tablet on magic. I’d already scoured the library in my younger years so my only hope had been the secret passages.

On one of those adventures, I;d actually managed to finds something useful. As I left the Cannibal to sleep after his dinner, I made my way back to that exact same spot.

I stopped at one of the hallways in the family wing and pushed in a set pattern of bricks that let me get enough leverage to drag open the false wall. I walked in and made my way into the cavern with no torches or lights. As I got deep enough, I started to see glowing blue dots. I would never have been able to discover this if I didn’t get lost here two years ago. When my torch had gone off, I’d thought it was over for me, but then the place started glowing and I understood that only darkness could guide the way. I walked forward, following the lights for what felt like miles. When I got to my destination, I felt in my pocket for a small vial that I’d taken to carrying with me. Injuring myself whenever I wanted to walk in would have gotten very suspicious and inefficient after some time, so I’d taken to bleeding myself on a weekly basis and storing it in small vials like this one. A bit freaky but dead useful.

A splash of blood on the wall, and the thing just disappeared. One of the first true displays of honest-to-god magic and still drove me bonkers whenever I got to see it in action. I walked into the library/laboratory with a bright smile on my face.

With a dragon of my own, it was now time to do the ritual Visenya recommended in her journal. Reading the journal taught me a lot of things about my ancestors. Aegon had been the leader and strategist, Rhaenys had been the politician, and Visenya, the scholar and warrior. Her journals claimed she’d even been a better fighter than Aegon himself. I took it all with a grain of salt but I couldn’t deny being interested.

Why was I here today? Because there was something Visenya had credited with her skill as a warrior and dragonrider. A ritual. She’d called it the ritual of claiming and acceptance. It helped to strengthen the bond between a rider and their dragon so much that sometimes it was unclear whether they were one person or two. It would enhance me physically, my senses, my strength, and even my magic, and do the same thing to Arrax. His intelligence would reach new heights simply because of the ritual.

It was a marvellous thing, and I’m sure you’re already asking yourself, ‘What’s the catch?’ Sorcery is a sword without a hilt, after all. The downside was that I’d share everything with the dragon. A dragon’s rage is a terrible thing, after all. Looking at all this, I was pretty sure that doing this ritual with Balerion had led to Maegor’s madness. Visenya hadn’t been known as the most stable of people, either.

Was I going to risk that, though? Yes. Hell yes. As a bastard with a dragon, I’d be needing any help I could get. The tourney at Duskendale showed that I couldn’t compare with some of the most skilled knights out there. I still lost half as many spars as I won against the city watch guards. Guards. Not knights or lords, guards. I needed an advantage. I’d made up my mind already, all this was just delaying the inevitable.

I picked up the notes I’d made on the ritual and made my way to my room. I’d do it on the morrow.

XXXXXX

THE LORD COMMANDER

“I don’t think I’m communicating clearly, your grace. I said the boy claimed the Cannibal. A bastard rides the second-largest dragon in the realm” Otto Hightower spoke to the king in a tone that barely hid his frustration at the King’s response.

“I heard you clearly the first time, Otto, but what do you expect me to do? Aegon has claimed a dragon as is his right as a Targaryen.”

“The bastard is no Targaryen” The hand to the king interrupted him in a way that made me place a hand on my sword. Only King Viserys’ shake of his head stayed my hand from doing something drastic.  ‘Jaehaerys would never have taken such disrespect’ even as the thought crossed my mind, I already cursed myself for it. It wasn’t my place to question the kind, only to protect and serve.

“Yes, your objections to my legitimising him were noted, Otto. However, that doesn’t change the blood he carries in his veins. What would you have me do to my nephew who has done nothing more than his right?” The King asked rhetorically, and his hand was forced to hold his tongue. All for the better. I could tell that whatever he wanted to say would have been treason for true.

“The blood he carries matters little, your grace. He and his father have disobeyed the crown at every turn. Daemon was instructed to send the whore away, and he disobeyed to have the bastard. He was instructed to leave it unclaimed, and he did the exact opposite, naming it after the conqueror himself. He was instructed to not let the boy near a dragon, and now the boy has claimed one of the largest in the world. The boy's very existence is an affront to your rule, your grace, and the rest of the Kingdoms are watching very closely” The implied threat there was enough to force even Viserys to act.

“Watch your tongue, Otto.” The King growled out. Not the reaction I’d have preferred but a reaction all the same.

“Your grace, I think what Lord Hightower is trying to say is that the royal house of the dragon has never been more endangered” Lynol Strong spoke up next and I paid my full attention to him. He was a fair bit more intelligent and tactful than the rest of the King’s council of selfish grasping Lords.

“Speak” The King said a single word and we patiently waited for the Master of Laws to collect his thoughts.

“There are six dragonriders in Westeros, your grace. Of those six, three belong to House Velaryon, Daemon is exiled and his son’s loyalties unknown. The only rider the royal House Targaryen can call on is the Princess, Rhaenyra. Who, no offence, your grace” He said while looking at the young princess who was pouring wine into the King’s cup for a few seconds before continuing “is a young girl, inexperienced in the ways of war, who rides a dragon smaller than every other dragon with a rider. If there was to be a rebellion today, House Targaryen would find itself outnumbered and outmatched in the air.”

For the first time since the Hand raised the issue, the King seemed to seriously be contemplating the words of his advisers. “Daemon is my blood” He finally said, like that solved anything.

“I understand your fears though. Send a letter to dragonstone. It is time for my Nephew to finally meet his family. Summon Aegon to court.”

“Yes, your grace” The Grand Maester said with deference and noted something down on the scroll he usually hid in his sleeves.

“And now we must discuss the Stepstones, your grace” Hightower continued, perhaps seeing that there was no need to flog the dead horse.

A/N; How does this look?