Dance of The Dragonwolf

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The Following 14 Chapters are available for Patrons.

Chapter 12 (House Velayron), Chapter 13 (Reunion), Chapter 14 (Back to Winterfell), Chapter 15 (A Walk Through Memories), Chapter 16 (A Feast), Chapter 17 (A Memory of The Past), Chapter 18 (A Reunion), Chapter 19 (Leaving The North), Chapter 20 (A Song of Happiness), Chapter 21 (A Song of Sorrow), Chapter 22 (Father and Son), Chapter 23 (The Brave Prince), Chapter 24 (The Mourning Dragons), and Chapter 25 (Hightower) are already available for Patrons.

Aenar Targaryen

"Aunt Lyanna, is it true that there are giants in the North, and they kidnap and eat children during the night?" Rhaenyra asked from her seat inside the Housewheel.

The sight was a magnificent one as the entire Royal Family, comprising of the King, Queen, their child, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, embarked on a journey to the North, riding towards Winterfell. To accommodate the large number of people, they had taken three housewheels, each adorned with the royal crest and colors, gracefully moving along the road, creating a spectacle for anyone who witnessed it.

The Royal Family was not traveling alone, as over a hundred soldiers accompanied them, including the legendary seven Kingsguards renowned for their unparalleled skills with a sword, who were sworn to protect the King and his family at all costs. The soldiers formed a formidable wall around the procession, their armor and weapons gleaming under the bright sun as they marched forward with a sense of duty and honor that only a royal guard could possess. As the journey continued, the Royal Family and their party passed through many towns and villages, where people gathered to catch a glimpse of their beloved monarchs. The sound of cheers and applause filled the air, and the King, Queen, and their children waved at the crowds, acknowledging their adoration and loyalty.

As House Targaryen made their way through the rocky terrain, their procession was a sight to behold. The Housewheels, adorned with intricate designs of dragons and fire, rolled steadily along the path while the sound of hooves echoed in the air as the riders on horseback guided them forward.

But what truly caught the eye were the five majestic dragons soaring through the skies, their wings spanning wide as they followed their loyal companions. Caraxes, with his shimmering red scales, flew with grace and power, while Vermithor, the third largest of the dragons, let out a deafening roar as he soared through the clouds. Silverwing, with her gleaming silver scales, glinted in the sunlight, and Vhagar, with his fierce red eyes, looked down at the world below with an intimidating gaze.

And finally, there was Cannibal, the wild dragon known for his ferocity, flying with untamed energy that made him unpredictable. It was a breathtaking sight, a display of power and loyalty that could not be matched by any other House in the Seven Kingdoms.

When the black Dragon had started following them, Aenar had noticed the tension around his family, especially the King. Still, it didn't take long to realize that Cannibal wouldn't harm anyone, not even the Dragons around him.

Whenever that was because he knew he wouldn't be able to win any of the fights without getting seriously wounded himself or because Aenar didn't want him, no one knew, but they were happy that Cannibal wasn't attacking anyone.

Despite the wheelhouses, Daemon and Baelon decided to ride horses instead of just going inside, Aenar had wanted to join his father and perhaps try to ride a pony, but his mother said he was still too young. She also reminded him that his cousin Rhaenyra would be alone in the wheelhouse if he decided to ride a pony, which made Aenar think twice about his decision. Despite this, he still longed to ride alongside his father and uncle, feeling the thrill of the ride and the excitement of entering the castle on horseback.

With a heavy heart, Aenar reluctantly stepped inside the massive wheelhouse, which required no less than ten powerful horses to move it forward.

As he entered the wheelhouse, the sun's rays peeking through the gaps in the wooden slats revealed an expansive interior, much larger than he had anticipated. The space was filled with a plethora of intriguing objects, from antique maps and navigational instruments to old trunks and dusty books. It felt like walking inside a large actual room, and it was filled to the brim with all the necessities needed for living and more. Three large beds, each adorned with plush blankets and pillows, were neatly arranged around the perimeter of the square room. In the center of the space, a magnificent hearth stood tall, its silver bricks shimmering in the warm glow of the flickering flames.

He couldn't help but marvel at the intricate design of the hearth, which was crafted with such precision that even the hottest of fires wouldn't cause a single spark to escape and ignite the wooden walls of the Wheelhouse. With the sound of crackling wood and the comforting warmth of the fire,

Three Tables of Cyvasse were inside if someone wanted to play, but wooden toys for the children were put inside, including an extra room to wash. The water was heated with warm rocks that were warmed up from the hearth.

The wheelhouse walls were made out of the best wood, which was constructed from the finest quality wood available. The scent of freshly cut timber lingered in the air, adding to the overall sense of luxury and elegance that pervaded the room.

As his eyes scanned the space, he noticed several plush carpets scattered across the floor, each one adorned with the striking sigil of House Targaryen in bold red and black hues. It was clear that no expense had been spared in creating this opulent space, which exuded an air of power, prestige, and refinement.

The candle holder was not your typical, plain, and ordinary one. Instead, it was crafted to resemble the arm of a mighty, fire-breathing dragon with intricate details. The scales of the dragon arm were carefully adorned with ornate designs and patterns, adding a touch of elegance to the piece. Placing a candle in the holder only enhanced its mystical aura, as the flickering flame danced and cast shadows that seemed to come alive and dance along the walls.

Aenar's attention turned to Rhaenyra, who asked Lyanna about the Giants eating children. Lyanna laughed at the young girl's question.

"Don't worry, Rhaenyra, there's no such thing as giants coming to your bed during the night," Lyanna reassured the young Princess, who actually looked slightly disappointed as if the thought of giants eating children during the night was actually amusing to her.

Rhaenyra, with her curiosity, piqued, leaned forward from her seat and directed her gaze towards Lyanna, her eyes alight with a sense of wonder and inquisitiveness as she posed the intriguing question, "Do Giants exist outside the wall?"

"They do," he blurted out, surprising even himself with his sudden outburst. The declaration caught the attention of Rhaenyra, who had been idly twirling a strand of her silver hair, and his mother, who had been absently stirring her tea with a spoon. Both raised an eyebrow in unison. Their curiosity was piqued as they waited for Aenar to continue.

"How do you know?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity. "You have never been beyond the wall." The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation, as Lyanna nodded in agreement, eager to hear the young prince's response.

"Read in the books. I found a book that talked about the Age of Heroes. It is said that the giants helped to build the Wall." Aenar explained, with a little shrug, a convincing tone, while Rhaenyra tilted her head to the side in slight confusion.

"If giants helped to build the wall, then why are they beyond the wall and not south of the wall? Why were they put beyond the walls?" Rhaenyra questioned. Aenar pursed his lips. The truth was long forgotten by now, and no one knew the truth. He himself had wondered why the Wildlings even existed. If the Night King was defeated 8000 years ago, then why were some people forced beyond the wall instead of all of them living South of the Wall? He understood it when it came to the Children of the Forest, but why were the Wildlings North of the Wall.

Aenar didn't know the answer to that, and he doubted he ever would, but that wasn't important, not anymore.

As Rhaenyra approached the wheelhouse window, she felt a thrill of excitement course through her body. Peering outside, she was greeted with a breathtaking sight - the five magnificent dragons soaring through the sky, their wings beating in unison as they danced and twirled through the clouds. It was a sight that left her awestruck, marveling at the sheer power and beauty of these mighty creatures.

Despite their close proximity, the dragons moved with fluid grace and precision that left her wonderstruck - it was as if they shared a telepathic connection, each one anticipating the movements of the others with ease. For a moment, Rhaenyra forgot everything else as she watched in rapt fascination, lost in the wonder of the dragons' synchronized dance through the sky.

Aenar walked up to Rhaenyra to watch with her. Unlike her, he could feel and see that Vhagar was eyeing Cannibal warily all the time, as if making it clear to the black dragon not to try anything.

As they gazed upon the vast landscape before them, their eyes were drawn to the sight of Cannibal soaring gracefully through the air. His wings are outstretched and powerful. Mesmerized by his aerial acrobatics, they watched in awe as he circled above them, his body a blur of movement against the bright blue sky. Suddenly, without warning, he began to descend at an alarming rate, hurtling towards the earth like a giant arrow, his streamlined form cutting through the air with incredible speed and precision.

In a flurry of motion, the dragon's massive body barreled through the air with incredible speed, leaving a thunderous whistle in its wake that echoed across the land. As it descended closer and closer to the earth, the guards stationed outside the wheelhouse braced themselves, their hands tightening around their weapons as they tried to remain steady in the face of this fearsome creature. The dragon's scales shimmered brilliantly in the sunlight, casting flickers of light across the grass below as it swooped lower and lower, its wings beating powerfully with each stroke.

As Rhaenyra looked on in awe as Cannibal opened his massive jaw, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth that glistened in the sunlight. With lightning-fast reflexes, he swooped down and captured something from the land below, snatching up a large, unsuspecting black bear in his powerful jaws.

Despite the bear's struggles and desperate attempts to break free, Cannibal held on tight, his grip unyielding as he savored the taste of his prey. The bear's fur rustled and fluttered in the wind as Cannibal effortlessly lifted it into the air, its limbs flailing helplessly before he snapped his jaws shut with a resounding crunch. Rhaenyra watched in horror as blood and bits of fur flew through the air, painting a gruesome picture against the backdrop of the sky.

He was clearly the second largest dragon in the sky, Vhagar was the first, Vermithor was the third, Silverwing was the fourth, and Caraxes was the fifth in terms of size. Still, she noticed that while Caraxes didn't possess the bigger body, he was obviously faster than the other four, especially on suddenly changing directions.

"Aenar, once we arrive at White Harbor, can you make Cannibal land? Maybe you can ride him?" Rhaenyra asked excitedly, turning to look from the window to Aenar. Before Aenar could even utter a word, Lyanna stopped him from saying anything.

"No, Aenar is too young," spoke Lady Lyanna sternly as she sent her son a sharp look, her eyes conveying her warning. Aenar, who was standing in front of his mother, simply nodded in response, but he knew deep down that he was not yet ready to ride Cannibal. Their bond wasn't strong enough yet. He had dreamed of himself flying with Cannibal for the first time, the dream had been fuzzy, but he remembered the city of King's Landing was mourning.

As the sun began to set on the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the vast landscape, the three big wheelhouses trudged along the dusty road, their wheels creaking and groaning as they went. The royal party had been on the road for days, their horses galloping tirelessly through the rugged terrain. However, as the darkness enveloped the land and the stars twinkled above, the three wheelhouses were forced to come to a halt. The horses, their nostrils flaring with exhaustion, desperately needed rest and sustenance. As they settled down for the night, they knew that they would have to continue their journey at the break of dawn.

As the guards who were guarding the Royal Party, they couldn't help but feel a sense of unease when the sky darkened even more, and the sound of flapping wings grew louder. Suddenly, they saw the massive shapes of five dragons descending from above, their wingspan so vast they blotted out the moon.

The guards watched in awe and trepidation as the dragons landed with a thunderous boom, causing the ground to tremble beneath their feet as if a small earthquake had just occurred. Even from a distance, the heat emanating from the dragons was almost unbearable, and the guards could feel the hairs on their arms standing on end.

The dragons looked more like flying mountains than creatures of flesh and bone, and the guards couldn't help but wonder if they were dreaming or if this was some sort of hallucination. But as they saw the dragons' eyes gleaming with intelligence and felt the heat of their breath on their skin, they knew this was no mere illusion. To think that such massive beasts could not only fly but also breathe fire was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time.

All five dragons landed close enough to the Wheelhouses except Cannibal, who had landed much further away than everyone else. The Kingsguards and House Targaryen were the only ones who weren't afraid of the Dragons.

Prince Aenar had decided to bring Queen Alysanne her dinner. He briefly wondered whether or not the King was asleep, and the Kingsguard let him through as he climbed the small ladder that led him to a door made of silver, opening it slowly in case they were sleeping. As Prince Aenar entered the dimly lit chamber, he noticed that the King was lying motionless on his grand bed, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

Turning his attention to the other side of the room, Aenar saw that Queen Alysanne was also present, but unlike her husband, she appeared to be wide awake, her eyes scanning the page of a parchment she held in her hand. Her brow furrowed in concentration, seemingly lost in thought.

Aenar squinted his eyes and tried to make out the details of the room, but the light of a single flickering candle was not enough to illuminate the majority of the space. He could see the shadows dancing on the walls and the occasional glimmer of light reflecting off a polished surface, but he couldn't quite tell what was in the room.

Aenar cleared his throat since it seemed she hadn't heard him walk in. "Your grace." He called out respectfully. His voice made her escape her thoughts. Her purple eyes quickly found the bright eyes of Aenar, almost glittering like stars in the darkness. For a moment, her eyes widened in shock.

"A-Aemon!" She almost called him, but she quickly remembered that her son was dead and in front of her was her great-grandson.

"I'm Aenar," the prince said briskly as he set the plate of steaming hot food on the nearby table. Alysanne's heart was still pounding from the shock of seeing him as she realized with horror that she had almost mistaken Aenar for her dead son. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of memories that had clouded her vision, and looked at her great-grandson standing before her.

"Might I ask what you were looking at?" Aenar asked curiously but kept his distance. He didn't want to bother his great-grandmother. His great-grandmother grabbed the piece of paper before showing him the other side; Aenar saw that it was a good pencil drawing of someone he didn't recognize.

"You can call me Grandmother," she said softly, her voice filled with fondness as she spoke to her grandson. "No need to address me as 'your grace' when it's just us two." With a gentle nod, Aenar handed over the drawing to the queen, watching as she quickly tucked it away in a nearby closet with a sense of secrecy.

"My father talks about him. He says he was the future of King's Landing and that he was a good man." Aenar spoke with a hint of sadness, he had never met Aemon Targaryen, son of Jaehaerys, but he remembered his great uncle Aemon, who had revealed the truth before he had sworn himself to the Wall. He still remembered when the man who had helped him the most had closed his eyes, never to open them again.

Aenar, Dany, and Rhaenys had burned his body with their dragons, just as he had wanted. A Targaryen funeral. Aenar approached his grandmother, thinking of a way to ease her pain.

"Grandmother, I know my words won't bring Aemon back, I know I'm young, but I know that we get to live, so those that left can live in our memory. As long as we remember them, they're never dead, we remember them, and we cherish our memories. That's how we keep them alive." Aenar spoke. His grandmother looked at him, her eyes full of tears, before motioning for him to get close.

As soon as he reached her, her face lit up with joy, and she spread her arms wide open, pulling him into a warm and loving embrace. Aenar felt the world's weight lifted off his shoulders as he embraced his great-grandmother, feeling her love and comfort wash over him like a warm blanket on this cold night.

"You're a smart dragon, my grandson." She spoke softly before kissing his cheek tenderly.

"Now, I understand why Baelon speaks so highly of you," Alysanne added, looking at Aenar's eyes, a sincere smile spread on her old face. Aenar quickly wiped away her tears with his hand, making his grandmother kiss his cheek tenderly.

"Tell me, Aenar, what is that you like?" His grandmother asked as Aenar brought her the table where the plate full of food was resting before he sat beside her in her bed.

Aenar looked deep in thought as his great-grandmother ate bread with vegetables.

"I like spending time with Rhaenyra and Laena, and I like to spend time with my parents. Fighting, exploring. And I like to sing." Aenar confessed he had never told anyone he could sing, not even his parents, but he felt he could tell that his grandmother.

His words earned him a curious look from Alysanne. "You know how to sing. Might I hear you?" She requested with a smile as she swallowed her food. Aenar motioned that the king was sleeping on his bed.

"Don't worry, Jae won't wake up even if Vermithor peeked his head inside the wheelhouse and roared as loudly as possible." Alysanne japed. Aenar chuckled. He could almost picture the massive head of Vermithor trying to peek inside a small door to wake up his rider and fail at it.

"Alright," Aenar agreed as he cleared his throat. His grandmother was listening to him intently.

Our mighty fallen

Begotten power

Shoulder to shoulder

Never surrender

Apples drop beside the tree

Old man please, remember me and

All of us still chase our dream

Underneath the canopy

Steady we ride

Silhouette flying over the grass

As the daylight now dies

Our stallions breathing their last

Duty chain us

Our demons haunt us

Fighting for seeds of our crown

Death by sundown!

Steady we ride

Watching scenes playing out from our past

Like the smell of her hair

Those times always fly by so fast

Needles broken

The feeling's woken

Should we just let it all fade

Is it just time?

Our mighty fallen

Begotten power

Shoulder to shoulder

Never surrender

Apples drop beside the tree

Old man please, remember me and

All of us still chase our dream

Underneath the canopy

Steady we ride

Silhouette flying over the grass

As the daylight now dies

Our stallions breathing their last

Duty chain us

Our demons haunt us

Fighting for seeds of our crown

Death by sundown!

Steady we ride

Watching scenes playing out from our past

Like the smell of her hair

Those times always fly by so fast

Needles broken

The feeling's woken

Should we just let it all fade

Is it just time?

After he finished his song, His grandmother took his hand in hers, kissing his little hands.

"Aenar, you have a beautiful voice. I'm sure every lady will be happy to hear it." Alysanne teased, kissing the top of his head as Aenar rested his head against her shoulder.

Talking with each other for two more hours about when she was younger, the queen told her grandson about all the times she rode Silverwing, even mentioning how this wasn't her first time going North. As the night grew darker, Alysanne watched over her grandson, who had fallen asleep in her arms. The soft rhythm of his snoring was a peaceful lullaby to her, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment as she held him close. With a gentle kiss on the top of his head, she carefully laid him down on her bed, his tiny form nestled among the pillows and blankets.

"Sleep, my little dragon. Have sweet dreams." Alysanne spoke softly, kissing the top of his head. Aenar smiled in his sleep, a smile of happiness.

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