Using the rope ladder dangling from the heavy saddle, Gaemon swiftly climbed onto Bahamut's broad back.
There's an old saying: Stand high to see far. It was an absolute truth.
Even though Bahamut had only just passed out of its hatchling phase, its massive body rested nearly ten feet off the ground when sprawled flat. Sitting firmly in the saddle, Gaemon found himself towering over everyone in the training yard.
Perched high upon the beast, Gaemon finally understood why the ancient Dragonlords of the Valyrian Freehold had viewed themselves as gods. The sheer, terrifying power beneath them fundamentally separated them from mortal men.
Shaking his head to clear the grand, intoxicating thoughts, Gaemon refocused on the immediate task: taking to the sky.
He settled into the thick leather seat, adjusting his weight to ensure the saddle was properly balanced. He then grabbed the heavy iron chains attached to the saddle and locked them securely into the reinforced rings of his riding leathers. These chains were vital; they anchored him to the beast, ensuring that violent aerial maneuvers, sudden dives, or unexpected turbulence wouldn't send him plummeting to his death.
Falling off a horse on the ground was dangerous. Falling off a dragon miles above the earth was a guaranteed, messy end.
Once he was fully strapped in and secure, Gaemon projected his intent to Bahamut. Because he had hatched the dragon and possessed the magic of the bloodline, their minds were intimately connected. He didn't need to shout complex commands or crack a whip; a simple mental push was enough for the dragon to perfectly understand its rider's will.
Feeling Gaemon's readiness, Bahamut shifted. The dragon planted its massive winged forelimbs into the dirt, pushing its chest off the ground. It took two rapid, thunderous strides forward before pushing off violently with its muscular hind legs. With a deafening crack that sounded like tearing canvas, Bahamut unfurled its massive wings and drove them downward. The resulting cyclone of air blasted the dirt yard as the platinum beast hauled itself into the sky.
Sitting in the saddle, Gaemon felt the incredible, raw physical power required to lift tons of muscle and scale off the earth.
As Bahamut launched almost vertically into the air, Gaemon experienced the intense, terrifying sensation of being pinned flat against the back of the saddle, the ground rapidly falling away behind him. If he hadn't securely chained himself to the seat, the violent angle of the takeoff would have forced him to cling desperately to the handholds just to avoid sliding off the dragon's tail.
With every powerful beat of its wings, Bahamut caught the rising air currents, climbing higher and higher. The dragon's uniquely aerodynamic and slender build made the entire ascent look incredibly elegant from the ground.
Once fully airborne, Bahamut transformed. The creature that seemed slightly cumbersome and heavy on the ground suddenly moved with the effortless, fluid grace of a fish darting through water.
For Gaemon, the initial rush of the ascent brought a wave of overwhelming vertigo. The world violently shifted around him. The towering walls of the Red Keep shrank into models, and the people in the yard turned into tiny, insignificant ants.
It wasn't until Bahamut leveled out several hundred feet above the city that Gaemon's stomach finally settled, and the vertigo gave way to a surge of pure, unadulterated euphoria. Looking out over the sprawling capital, a fierce pride swelled in his chest. The sky is endless. Where in this world could I not go?
He gave a gentle tug on the reins attached to the saddle's handholds, guiding Bahamut into a wide circle. The dragon responded instantly, banking smoothly to spiral around the highest towers of the Red Keep.
From this vantage point, Gaemon saw the castle as a conqueror would. Maegor's Holdfast, the Tower of the Hand, the White Sword Tower, the massive curtain walls, the training yards, and the stables were all laid bare beneath him. He realized with chilling clarity that, perched on this dragon, he could effortlessly reduce the impenetrable fortress to a pile of molten slag.
Pushing the dark thoughts aside, Gaemon decided to test the dragon's maneuverability. He guided Bahamut into a steep, low-altitude dive directly over the castle.
The dragon roared past the towers, its massive wings generating a localized hurricane. The violent wind pressure ripped through the courtyards, scattering papers, throwing servants to the ground, and throwing the previously orderly Red Keep into absolute chaos.
As the royal officials, guards, and servants scrambled for cover, they looked up and saw the small figure riding the platinum beast. The courtyard immediately erupted into a cacophony of shouts, gasps, and frantic whispers.
Some were awestruck, others terrified, and a few immediately began calculating what this meant for the balance of power.
"Gods be good! Is that Prince Gaemon?!"
"Gaemon the Glorious!"
"The Prince is only six! It's impossible!"
"Another dragonrider for House Targaryen! Their power only grows."
"Abominations of incest... The Seven will punish them for this..."
The sudden, chaotic uproar echoing from the courtyards eventually reached the royal apartments.
King Jaehaerys, who had been buried in paperwork in his study, frowned at the sudden commotion. He glanced up at his eldest son, Prince Aemon, who was standing nearby.
"Go see what has the entire castle in an uproar," the King commanded.
As the heir to the Iron Throne and the Prince of Dragonstone, Aemon was being rigorously groomed for rule. Jaehaerys kept him close, having him serve as his cupbearer to slowly introduce him to the complex realities of governing the realm. Aemon was level-headed, responsible, and diligent, qualities that pleased the King immensely.
"At once, Father," Aemon replied, quickly turning and leaving the study.
A moment later, Aemon returned, a massive, disbelieving grin plastered across his face. Instead of reporting verbally, he walked straight past the King's desk, threw open the heavy wooden shutters of the study window, and gestured for his father to look outside.
Understanding the silent cue, Jaehaerys rose from his chair, stretching his stiff back after a morning of reading reports. He walked to the window and followed his son's gaze up into the sky.
The majestic silhouette of the platinum dragon immediately caught his eye.
"Hah," Jaehaerys chuckled softly, his tone incredibly calm, as if watching a six-year-old ride a dragon was an everyday occurrence. "The boy took to the sky faster than I anticipated. I thought he would wait a few more years."
"Father, it's actually Gaemon!" Aemon laughed, his voice thick with pride and astonishment. "I can't believe he's flying at his age!"
High above the Red Keep, the chaotic chatter of the court meant nothing to Gaemon. As the minutes ticked by, he completely acclimatized to the sensation of flight. The initial apprehension was gone; now, he only wanted to fly higher and faster.
Acting on the impulse, Gaemon pulled back sharply on the reins. Bahamut roared, banked hard away from the Red Keep, and shot out over the sprawling expanse of King's Landing.
While a dragon in flight is incredibly fast, it is anything but stealthy.
As the massive beast swept over the city, casting a terrifying shadow across the crowded streets, the smallfolk looked up in awe. The entire capital ground to a halt as thousands of eyes tracked the dragon and the tiny rider strapped to its back.
"Who is that?!"
"Is there a dragonrider that small in the royal family?"
While the commoners were confused, the nobles residing in the city's manses recognized the silver-haired boy immediately.
"That's Prince Gaemon! And his dragon, Bahamut!"
The streets of King's Landing buzzed with feverish excitement. Today, the entire city had borne witness to the birth of a new dragonrider.