It was roughly an hour or two until we reached Dragonstone. The sea was calm and most of the crew kept to themselves, barely having to work the ship. While the other guests slept under the wooden floor of the boat.
From the soothing swaying of the ship I decided to sit down on the stairs that lead to the ship's wheel and took a nap.
Later that night one of the crew kicked me awake and said to me ,"fuck off stow away, we're here". Not sure how much of a beggar's appearance I had but it seems everyone instinctively knows I'm a bastard. If I remember correctly there is no love for bastards in Westeros except Dorne. Putting on my bag I looked around for the three eyed raven but he was nowhere to be seen.
Getting off the ship I decided to roam around the village beneath Dragonstone. I wished to ask for directions to the dragon pit of the island and visited the local tavern.
Inside were sailors, dockworkers, the fisherfolk of Dragonstone. I looked for the most drunk man of the lot and asked for directions to the pit, offering to buy a beer for him which I would not pay for.
At one of the corners of the place I found my target, an old man covered in dirt not due to being unclean but from hard work. I felt inherently guilty of scamming the man but there's nothing else I could do besides roaming the entirety of the island.
"The caverns of the dragons?" Said the man through mumbled lips when I asked. "Who wishes, I mean, want to go there? Especially now boy? The dragons... I mean the Targaryens are distraught. Haven't yee heard?"
"Only that a king has died. Anyway could you tell—"
He grabbed my shoulder wanting to continue the conversation, "oh I've heard it was worse. Word from the castle is that the bards of kings landing are calling it the butcher's feast."
At the mention of the name of said event I urged the old man to speak of what he heard, the full story. "The death of the king is said to be more than sickness. But that is not what is important. They butchered a DRAGON boy." He said with wide eyes, "before they found out about the king's demise, they held a feast for the entire Targaryen family. Blackfyre to even the Hightowers and the extended family of the house. Who knows how many silver hairs garnished the room. When the food was served." He burped, "Apologies, the food was covered in a silver plate or cover who knows. What's important is that when it was revealed, they found the parts of the dragon Arrax, from the son of our now Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen."
"She's queen now?" I was a bit surprised how fast everything was moving and surprised that there wasn't a male heir with all the Targaryens around.
"Hush now, I'm not done. Quickly they set their guards to find Lucerys Velaryon and the other children who had yet to attend the dinner for unknown reasons. They found his neck sliced open."
"Jesus Christ this wasn't supposed to happen this way." I said.
"Wait who? Never mind that boy, that was just the first one killed. They found one of Aegon's sons dead in a hallway, you know, Aegon son of the Hightower wench. The next victim was Aegon, the child of Elia Martell, the first wife of the much beloved Rhaegar Targaryen. And apparently one of the Blackfyres had a loss or two, no one really cared to mention them. Hopefully they'll find who done, did it."
I sat there taken aback from the news. The revelation of Rhaegar Targaryen brought questions on whether many of his side of the family are alive currently.
"Then why is the Queen here and not at King's landing?" I asked, realizing the odd move of Rhaenyra.
"Her eldest son is a ward to the Starks. She wished to see him unharmed I bet. Although what harm could a Stark do, they're honorable I've heard. Now where's my drink?" He asked bothered by my presence.
"You still haven't answered where the pit is."
"Ah yes, it's not a pit but the Dragonmont. It's a dormant volcano I think at the centre of the island. Shouldn't take too long on foot. What is it with boys wanting to see dragons? It's not like you'll return alive." He said.
"Alright thanks." I said leaving the table while he drank the last of his cup of beer. It was only after leaving through the doors that I heard the drunken man yell for me to complete the deal.
I walked for one or two hours in the direction of what I thought could be the center of the island, hoping the mountain I picked was the Dragonmont. It was still dark when I reached the base of it. I could see many caves marking the entrance and knew it was the right place with the burning scars left near them.
Barley one step in I saw the three eyed raven fly out of the cave entrance I picked. The raven hovered in front of me wanting to show me something. I followed outside just a couple meters away when red wings flew out of the cave, it was Caraxes the Blood Wyrm.
In person, seeing its long neck move around like a serpent was something special. The dragon roared as it soar through the skies with its unique screech echoing in the clouds. From below I could make out a silhouette on its back, Daemon Targaryen. Where could he be going so soon?
The raven entered the cave right after and I waited until it came to fetch me in case another dragon came flying through. Several minutes passed till he appeared and squeaked for me to enter. At first the cave felt like any other if you overlooked the massive cave ceiling. When we went further in, the dragonkeepers were doing their rounds. The monk-like order tasked with protecting and caring for the dragons were making their way to us. I hid quickly in the dark of the cavern system behind a large rock.
The three eyed raven went in their direction with an intent to guide them elsewhere. Seeing that they paid him no mind he began to harass them and I took the chance to sneak past them. Thankfully my small stature helped me hide from rock to rock as I entered further in. However the darkness of the cave grew with the lack of light and I stumbled around without direction. Suddenly I tripped over a ledge and fell to the ground hitting my head on a rock. I began to bleed a bit from the hit but I couldn't give a damn when I made out the rock to actually be a dragon egg.
I touched it and could feel that the outside was warm. It was laid recently. Lifting it up was a bit of a chore as it was large, maybe even bigger than a normal dragon egg. Whatever colour it was remained a secret in the dark of the cave and I carefully placed it in my bag. Carefully I started to march again when I heard the raven flying towards me. With its black feathers it was invisible in this place but I can hear its wings flapping in front of me.
Slowly I walked after it as he probably scouted beforehand the cave system of Dragonmont, I hope. Running into another dragon that isn't Vermithor would be worse–or it would lead to the same outcome if I did find him. It felt like hours had passed walking in the dark and surely the sun had come out by now. Every once and a while we saw the torches of the dragonkeepers, looking for the egg I bet or partroling.
Suddenly I felt the raven fly on top of my head. It pecked my head and a thought came to mind. In the pitch darkness in front of me is Vermithor. As the raven is magical I deduced it could see clearly what was in front of us so I trusted it and raised my hands in front me as I walked cautiously. I was praying that the bronze fury was sleeping and that surely the three eyed raven wasn't guiding me into its jaws. After a few meters of tip toeing I felt my hands touch a wall. I kept them there, afraid that it wasn't a wall, but I felt the heartbeat of a dragon. A minute passed with my hands feeling the strong rhythmic beats of Vermithor, he was in a deep slumber.
I breathed out a nervous breath of air and steeled myself. First I placed a foot on its scales, sensing no movement I stepped off the ground beginning the climb on its immense back or neck, could be the tail? Each time I lifted my foot I waited a minute or two for the slumbering dragon to adjust to the moved weight. About half an hour passed until I felt my body laid horizontally on top of it.
What the fuck do I do now? If I wake him up, would he take it well if I bothered him? Does he already have a rider in this timeline? Questions started to circle in my mind and I realized this wasn't a good plan as there was only the part of getting here not what comes after. A groan came from the raven on top of me and my heart stopped with worry.
Sensing no movement I relaxed but the three eyed raven did something I didn't expect, it spoke "Sổvẽs!" in an inhuman voice. Vermithor awoke with a burning rage as a fire ignited from his chest and came out, lighting his home. He looked at me with his bronze eyes and I was far enough on his back where he could turn his neck to take a bite. In a flash the raven soared towards him pecking his nose disrespecting the hierarchy of winged creatures. They say dragons are intelligent creatures and it was plain for whoever else could see that Vermithor needed revenge for the act.
He raised his body and charged after the raven at a speed that could frighten anyone as it was magical to see such a large mass move as Vermithor did. Meanwhile I climbed further up his back where he couldn't possibly turn around and finish me off. High Valyrian could be heard as the dragonkeepers screamed at one another of what was happening but not even them could calm the enraged dragon. I made it to the base of his neck when the light of the entrance of the mountain could be seen. In the light of the morning I saw the three eyed raven reach the end of the cavern and the jaws of Vermithor as he caught his prey by lunging at him.
A small scream I heard come out of pain in Vermithor's mouth as the raven perished. Due to the impulse of the attack, Vermithor began flying outside of Dragonmont soaring high into the clouds so as to not harm itself if it came down. I barely held onto his scales as he rose in a vertical manner trying to get me off. He roared with fury as I held on and when we reached enough height he began swirling around increasing his effort.
"Lykirỉ" I yelled trying to calm him followed by "Dohaerẩs", the word for serve. But the dragon would not obey no matter how much I repeated the phrase. Seeing neither of us relenting in our efforts, Vermithor started to breathe fire around him hoping to burn me.
Slowly he began to cook me alive and it finally pissed me off enough to forget my fear of heights, "Fine you lizard, you'll find my wrath to be greater than your fury." I said in High Valyrian.
More and more I climbed up his neck. The closer I got to his head the more he twirled it nearly getting me to fall off, with my legs flying into the air a couple of times yet still I went on until I reached my destination. I reached his massive head and the heat of his fire became intolerable. With my nails I made my way to his right eye. When I could see the reflection in his large eye all I saw was pure fury, unyielding with the pride of Valyria.
He roared enough for the people of Dragonstone to hear from the skies above them. With great effort I pulled out my dagger made of bone and prepared to stab.
"One last time Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, Dohaerẩs!" I yelled at him.
Vermithor answered with fire as he spat it out while diving at full speed to the ground. I don't know what demon possessed me but I held on playing a game of chicken with the flying lizard as we plunged ourselves to an early grave.
I never took my eyes off his, not even sparing a glance to the ground. Vermithor stopped breathing fire and released his tucked wings bracing for the fall. With his long years of being a dragon he managed to stick the landing perfectly with the expectation of me. We stared at one another neither wanting to blink first as if we were children fooling around.
" Dohaerẩs" I said trying to keep the charade of strength but my voice came out tired.
Vermithor moved the iris of his eyes so slightly as to look at the dagger aimed at him. He closed his eyes and rested his head onto the grass land of Dragonstone allowing me to step onto solid ground. I placed my hand on him, petting the great dragon and he allowed me to. Vermithor let me claim him.