Dance of The Dragonwolf

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The Following 15 Chapters are available for Patrons. 

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), Chapter 25 (Hightower), Chapter 26 (The Council of 101), Chapter 27 (Jaehaerys and Alysanne), and Chapter 28 (A Last Talk) are already available for Patrons.

Aenar Targaryen

As he lay in his bed in White Harbor, wrapped in furs to keep warm, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over him. It was as if the frigid air outside had transported him back to his days in Winterfell, where he had spent countless nights shivering beneath his blankets. Though White Harbor was not quite as bone-chilling as Winterfell, the cold was still biting and unrelenting, a stark contrast to the warm, temperate climate of King's Landing, where he had spent the past few years. Despite the discomfort, there was something comforting about the familiar chill, like an old friend visiting after a long absence. Aenar hadn't spent much time sleeping in King's Landing in his past life, only a year or two until the War for The Living started.

Aenar's body shuddered as he lay on the bed, feeling the icy grip of death slowly creeping up his spine; the coldness on his chest grew more intense, reminding him of the fatal wound inflicted by the Night King's spear. Even though he tried to ignore the pain, it gnawed at his insides like a hungry beast, refusing to let go of him.

The memory of the Night King's cruel gaze, with his piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold the power of death itself, was still fresh in Aenar's mind; it was as if the nightmarish vision had been burned into his soul and would never let him forget the horror he had experienced. Despite his fear and pain, Aenar knew that he had to be strong for his people and himself, and he refused to give up just yet. Aenar remembered his blood poured out of his chest, and his blood spilled from his chest like a crimson river, staining the snow beneath him.

As Aenar slowly opened his eyes, he was greeted by the gentle warmth of the morning sun that was pouring through the window, casting a bright beam of light that illuminated his bedchamber. With each passing moment, the warmth seemed to spread throughout the room, enveloping him in a cozy embrace that made it difficult to leave the comfort of his bed. However, as the sound of the bustling castle outside grew louder, Aenar knew it was time to start his day. So he forced himself to stand up, feeling the coolness of the stone floor beneath his feet as he made his way towards the window to take in the breathtaking view of the White Harbor that lay before him. Aenar saw his clothes were left in a chair, all prepared by servants; he quickly wore all the clothes the servants had prepared for him.

Aenar realized that he had woken up earlier than both of his parents and even Ser Ryam, the knight guarding his door. Ser Ryam had immediately questioned the prince if something was amiss, but Aenar reassured him that everything was alright. The truth was, Aenar simply felt the urge to explore The White Harbor, to experience the city's bustling streets and the salty sea breeze that blew in from the harbor.

Later

The White Harbor was bustling with life as the young prince strolled through its streets, his regal presence commanding the attention of all those who laid eyes on him. The townsfolk, who had heard of his imminent arrival, had gathered in droves to catch a glimpse of the royal prince, and as he passed by them, they bowed reverently, their faces filled with awe and admiration. Ser Ryam followed closely behind, his hand never straying too far from the pommel of his sword.

"Tell me, Ser Ryam, have you ever been to Winterfell?" Aenar's voice echoed in the streets of the white harbor, breaking the stillness that surrounded them. The young prince turned his head, his dark hair glinting like a dark star in the daylight, and looked over his shoulder at the old knight, his gaze curious and intense. The armor that covered Ryam's body shone like a beacon in the sun, casting a halo of light around him that made him seem almost angelic. The knight, with his weathered face and grizzled beard, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"No, my Prince," the old knight answered with practiced politeness, his eyes sharp like a hawk as he scanned his surroundings. "While I have traversed many lands and seen much in my years of service, the Northest I have ever ventured is White Harbor, which I arrived at only yesterday." He paused for a moment, his breath visible in the crisp northern air, before continuing, "And let me tell you, my Prince, it's a far cry from the warmth and familiarity of my Southern home. The biting cold here is enough to chill even the hardiest of warriors to the bone." With a small bow and a determined glint in his eye.

The old knight was pleased to see that people seemed not to want to harm the young prince, at least not yet. Perhaps they were all proud that the North had two Royal Marriages.

As Prince Aenar and the knight strolled through the bustling market, the early morning sun casting a warm glow upon their faces, they couldn't help but chuckle at the witty banter exchanged between them. The streets were still relatively quiet, with only a few scattered shoppers shuffling about, their arms laden with goods as they made their way to their respective shops. The inviting aroma of fresh sweets and strong tea wafted through the air, tempting the young prince to indulge in a few bites. Many of the shopkeepers noticed the prince's presence and eagerly beckoned him over with a wave of their hand, offering him the finest wares in their inventory.

Aenar wasn't interested in buying sweets or clothes; as he perused the various stalls, his eye caught sight of a stunning display of necklaces. They sparkled in the sunlight, each one more beautiful than the last. Aenar knew that he had found what he was looking for. One for Rhaenyra, Laena since they were his friends, and one for Aunt Gael; she was getting married in just a few days, and he wanted to give her something to commemorate the occasion, even if it was just a small token of his love and support.

Aenar caught sight of a small shop that had just opened for the day. The shopkeeper, an old man with a kind face, stood behind a desk sipping on a steaming cup of green tea. What caught the prince's attention was that the entire shop was housed within a simple carriage, which had been expertly converted into a charming storefront.

Aenar could feel the tantalizing aroma emanating from the cup of tea in his hand, its fragrant steam swirling around him and filling his nose with its sweet and spicy notes. Although the tea was undoubtedly delicious, his eyes were soon drawn to the curious array of trinkets and treasures scattered across the old wooden desk before him. The desk itself had clearly seen better days, its surface marred by a thousand scratches and scars, but it was covered by a small, vibrant green carpet that gave it a cozy, inviting feel. And upon this carpet lay a collection of necklaces, each one more fascinating than the last - there were shining chains of gold and silver, strings of beads and shells, and delicate strands of woven silk, each one imbued with its own unique story and history.

"Might I know how much these are?" The old man, who was sipping his cup of tea, put it down and returned Aenar's smile with a gentle one of his own before kindly addressing him. The way the old man's eyes twinkled, and his wrinkles formed intricate patterns on his face.

"Ahh, A Young Prince, it is an honor to meet you, your grace." The old man spoke with a respectful bow of his head; his hands were old and full of wrinkles, he had a long white beard that reached his collarbone, and his long hair covered his eyes.

The old man had an unassuming and harmless appearance that he directed toward Ser Ryam and Prince Aenar. As they conversed with him, they couldn't help but notice a glint of metal that caught their eye on his robes. It was a small dagger cunningly concealed among the folds of his clothing. The sight of the dagger made the Kingsguard, standing nearby, instinctively tighten his grip around the pommel of his sword.

"One cost only one copper, my prince." The old man spoke in a raspy voice with a smile hidden behind his beard; his almost closed eyes turned to look at Ser Ryam standing behind Prince Aenar, who was keeping an eye on him.

"There's no need for that, young knight. My dagger is always used only to make my necklaces. I'm too old even to try something." The old man spoke gently; Aenar could see the old man wasn't lying; his face was wrinkled, and he looked as old as Uncle Aemon from his old life.

"I'm not young anymore," Ryam murmured under his breath; this earned a chuckle from the old man, showing his mouth no longer had teeth.

"Then, I'm not 113 name days, old knight." The old man spoke; Aenar couldn't help but notice the man's blindness and wondered how he was able to craft such beautiful necklaces with his lack of sight. Despite the wrinkles and age spots that adorned his skin, Aenar's eyes were drawn to the scar that sat on the man's cheek. It was a deep scar.

"113 name days. You were here alive even before the dragons came." Aenar spoke, looking at the old man who nodded with a small frown behind his beard.

"I was young when the dragons came, powerful beasts. I lost my sons fighting for Aegon. My great-grandsons died during the Maegor's rule. And I'm still here. I doubt anyone from my great great grandchildren even knows I exist," he said, his voice trailing off into a quiet whisper before his face turned to look at Aenar, who shifted slightly uncomfortably.

"Choose your necklace, young Prince, it's small, but it can bring joy." The man offered, pointing at his table full of different kinds of necklaces.

As Aenar perused the array of necklaces before him, his eyes swept over each piece with a discerning gaze, admiring the craftsmanship and attention to detail that had gone into their creation, despite the plethora of beautiful necklaces that lay before him, three in particular, caught his eye, beckoning him closer with their intricate designs and unique features. Two of the necklaces boasted a small figure of a dragon, its scales gleaming in the light as it breathed golden flames, while the third necklace captured the essence of a mermaid emerging from the depths of the sea, the curves of her body expertly carved into the precious metal.

"I want these three," Aenar said; the old man grabbed the ones he wanted before giving them to Aenar.

"The dancing dragons, if you combine them. They come together." The old man spoke with joy as he handed Aenar the three necklaces, but as the young prince was about to grab them, the old man leaned his face closer; Aenar could see his blue eyes behind his hair, now looking like dirty water.

"You keep running away from what you can't escape," the old man spoke softly, his voice filled with wisdom. "But don't you see, my dear boy? If you keep running, you will be running for eternity. You must embrace the Flame, embrace the fire that burns within you, and let it guide you on your path." The old man spoke hushedly before leaning back away from Aenar. Ryam gave him three copper coins for the necklaces.

Aenar felt a cold chill in his body; a flash of light passed through his eyes like lightning, and in that split second, he could see the piercing blue eyes of the Night King staring back at him, his face way too familiar. Aenar's heart raced as he struggled to catch his breath, feeling as though it would burst from his chest at any moment. Cold, he thought, The sensation of his skin crawling, as though thousands of ants were marching across it, made him feel like he was falling apart, like a sandcastle eroded by the pounding waves of the sea.

As Aenar sat lost in his thoughts, the sound of Ser Ryam's voice calling him "Your Grace" jolted him back to reality. With a quick intake of breath, Aenar composed himself; he could see the knight was concerned for him.

"I'm fine, Ser Ryam," Aenar spoke in haste, his breath visible in the frigid air as he rubbed his gloved hands together to generate warmth. The biting cold of the Winterfell evening had never bothered him much, but whenever the Night King was anywhere near, he would feel the chill deep in his bones, as if his own body was freezing from the inside. "Let's return back inside the castle," he said, his voice low and weary as he turned towards the towering walls of the fortress.

Later

As the family gathered around the table to break their fast, the smell of fresh bread and sizzling bacon filled the air. Rhaenyra was particularly excited for the day ahead. After finishing their meal, the family put on their coats and boots and made their way outside to explore the castle grounds. Just as they were about to set out, Daemon told them that House Velayron would arrive soon. The Ship of House Velayron was due to arrive any moment; for this reason, Prince Baelon and his children and grandchildren were already waiting at the dock to welcome the ship and its crew.

The first sight of House Velayron approaching wasn't the ship, but Meleys flying towards them, her red scales shining against the sunlight; As Meleys soared towards them, the other five dragons that were stationed near White Harbor let out a roar. The sound echoed through the harbor, causing the seagulls to take flight and the sailors to hurry to their posts. Meleys landed near the docks, her powerful wings stirring up a gust of wind that sent a few crates tumbling over. She was easily larger than any ship Aenar had seen.

Aenar saw Princess Rhaenys on top of Meleys, wearing bronze armor as she gazed down at Prince Baelon, the dust clearing out, the dragon baring his large teeth, but none of them was afraid.

"It's been a while, my Niece," Baelon spoke first, hoping to break the ice between them; he felt Vhagar gazing at Meleys with malicious intent; same for Caraxes and Cannibal, who let out a roar towards Meleys, the red Dragon looked at the other dragons whose size was bigger than the wall surrounding White Harbor, all the dragons were giving Meleys and Rhaenys warning looks, especially Cannibal who looked like he wanted to tear Meleys apart. His massive jaws opened and closed with a loud clack, making it clear that he was ready to pounce and rip Meleys apart if she dared to provoke him.

With a graceful dismount, Rhaenys descended from the back of her fiery dragon, feeling the cool air rush past her face as she landed on the solid ground. As soon as she did, Meleys let out a mighty roar, signaling her readiness for flight once again. Without hesitation, the dragon spread her wings, creating a powerful gust of wind, nearly knocking Rhaenys off her feet. Meleys then took to the sky, soaring over the towering wall that separated them from the other dragons.

"Indeed, uncle. It's good to see you," Rhaenys spoke with courtesy, a fake smile splattered on her face like a cold mask; as she reluctantly bowed at her uncle, Aenar could feel the bitterness in her words, reminding him a little of Prince Oberyn when he had first met him.

Rhaenys quickly greeted everyone else; she complimented Rhaenyra and Aenar with a genuine smile.

"Where is Lord Corlys?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. He didn't want to wait any longer than necessary. As the question hung in the air, a speck appeared on the horizon, gradually growing larger and larger until it became clear that it was Lord Corlys's ship.

As Aenar gazed out from the bustling docks, his eyes were drawn to the magnificent sight before him. The ship, which had just come to a stop, was a grand vessel that seemed almost as large as Bright Roar. He watched as the skilled sailors deftly dropped the heavy anchor, causing a loud thud reverberating across the harbor. The ship's imposing figure was a sight to behold, with its towering masts and intricate rigging, which swayed gently in the sea breeze.

The Young Prince stood on the dock; his heart was filled with a sense of excitement and anticipation. The salty sea air filled his lungs with every breath he took. Suddenly, there was a loud thud, and a wooden platform appeared, connecting the ship to the dock. The Prince watched as Lord Corlys stepped onto the platform with an aura of grace and confidence that seemed to radiate from him. Following closely behind were Laenor and Laena.

To Aenar, Corlys reminded him a little of Tywin but perhaps less ruthless but just as ambitious.

Laena's heart leaped with joy when she spotted Aenar waiting for her; her eyes twinkled like a star in a dark night sky as she quickened her pace to reach him. Despite her parents' disapproving glances, she rushed towards him with a smile that could light up the entire town. As soon as she reached him, she threw her arms around him, tightly embracing him, almost causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground.

"I missed you, Aenar." She exclaimed before pulling away from him.

"I missed you, too. Laena." Aenar spoke brightly as Laena turned to face Rhaenyra, who looked slightly annoyed.

"Nyra, your hair is perfect." Laena complimented, and the adults watched as the kids greeted each other; Lyanna was happy her son had friends of his age. Laenor greeted Aenar only after Lord Corlys spoke with Prince Baelon.

"It's good to see you, Lord Corlys. I heard you are having problems with the free cities." Prince Baelon spoke with courtesy, shaking the man's hand.

"Nothing major, my Prince. Just small pirates." Lord Corlys spoke with enough respect in his voice. His gaze analyzed everyone around him, especially Prince Aenar.

Aenar's attention turned to Laena, who gently nudged his shoulder to grab his attention as they started walking towards the castle.

"Aenar, how is Cannibal? Can I see him from up close?" She asked, almost too quickly; Aenar laughed at her antics.

"We can see him later. My father promised me we would ride Caraxes. I'm sure you and Nyra can join." Aenar answered; the promise of flying on top of a dragon made Nyra and Laena excited.

"Before I forget. I brought these two for you." Aenar abruptly stopped; The girls looked at him with a puzzled expressions, wondering why he had stopped in his tracks. He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out two beautiful necklaces made of silver that glittered in the sunlight. As he presented them to the girls, they were stunned by the intricate design and delicate craftsmanship of the necklaces.

Laena's small hands eagerly grasped the delicate necklace, her youthful eyes fixating on the intricate design before her. As she examined the stunning piece of jewelry, her excitement could no longer be contained, and she burst out in an exclamation of pure joy, "Aenar! It's beyond perfect!" The necklace was truly a work of art, with a magnificent dragon intricately carved into it, appearing almost lifelike. Laena was completely enamored with the stunning piece, and Rhaenyra couldn't help but share in her friend's excitement. The two of them marveled at the necklace's dazzling beauty, their eyes transfixed on the sparkling gemstones that adorned it.

"Thank you, Aenar."

"I love it, cousin," Rhaenyra spoke sincerely before showing it to her parents. Laena and Nyra wasted no time wearing their necklace, showing them off to everyone. Daemon looked at his son with pride.

"That's a thoughtful gift, Prince Aenar." Princess Rhaenys spoke with a furrowed brow towards the young prince, sounding slightly impressed. Aenar felt embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head.

"It was nothing, Princess Rhaenys."

Soon they resumed their walk towards the castle; Corlys was busy talking with Prince Baelon about their trade deals with the free cities, telling him how Vaemond was left in Driftmark to rule until he returned.

"Laena, how has your training been?" Aenar questioned the lady; the last time they talked, she had promised that she would start training on how to use a short sword. He wanted to see if she had kept her word.

Instead of answering his question, Laena quickly pulled out her short sword that had a dull blade. With practiced precision, she deftly maneuvered the sword's pommel around her dainty fingers as if performing an intricate dance. Rhaenyra and Aenar watched her every move with rapt attention, their eyes following the sword's graceful arc as Laena tossed it effortlessly from one hand to the other.

Aenar had to admit she was good at handling a sword despite her age. Laena finished her little show with a flick of her wrist; the sword soared high into the air, spinning elegantly as it ascended. The blade completed a full rotation, seemingly suspended in mid-air for a moment before Laena's practiced hand reached out to catch it effortlessly by the handle.

"That was Amazing, Laena." Aenar and Rhaenyra praised her; the girl looked pleased that Aenar was praising her.

"When I became a dragon rider. I will be a warrior and a Dragonrider." Laena claimed, sheathing her dull sword. Corlys and Rhaenys looked pleased to hear that from their daughter.

"Father, can I learn how to wield swords like Laena?" Rhaenyra asked her father; Viserys chuckled under his breath before shaking his head in denial while Aemma looked at her daughter.

"You're still young, my dear. Wait until you're nine name days." Aemma told Rhaenyra sweetly; the princess didn't look pleased but nodded nonetheless, that was until both Laena and Aenar tugged to the side.

"Don't worry, Nyra. We both can train you in secret." Aenar promised, with Laena nodding along; Nyra hugged them with a bright smile in gratitude.

"Thank you, Aenar. You are the best." She praised them as she pulled away from him, as he suddenly had a sly annoying smirk on his face.

"I know I'm the best. All bow before the mighty Dragon Prince." his being only four name days made him sound funnier, and his dramatic proclamation was met with a burst of laughter from the two girls and the adults who watched them—mainly Lyanna, Daemon, Aemma, and Rhaenys.

Later - Night

"Feasts are so annoying," she groaned, casting a disdainful glance at the revelers below as she sat beside Aenar, Rhaenyra, and Laenor. They were sitting on the high table in the hall; they could see everyone from where they were sitting. After arriving at the castle, her mother told Laena to take a bath and dress accordingly for the feast. She had wanted to play outside with Aenar and Nyra, but her mother told her that she needed to present herself as a proper lady of House Velayron.

Lord Manderly seemed very pleased with himself that he had the entire royal family in his castle and had the opportunity to have a feast with them; House Mandery was very rich, so it didn't bother him much. He could have a feast every day for an entire year, and he wouldn't lose much.

One of Lord Manderly's grandsons was talking with Laenor about Voyages in the sea. Usually, Aenar would have wanted to indulge himself in the conversation. Still, even though he was never a big fan of feasts, he knew their importance, to show the full strength of one house, their wealth, the opportunity to talk with important lords and to announce important news.

Aenar knew that, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it. The grand hall was alive with the resounding chatter of people from all corners of the trade town, eagerly indulging in the delectable feast that had commenced half an hour prior. The sumptuous aroma of various cuisines wafted through the air, enticing the appetite of every individual present. The tables were adorned with a plethora of savory dishes, each delicacy more tantalizing than the last, from the succulent boiled chickens cooked to perfection in clay pots to the mouth-watering salmon baked with tangy lemons to the velvety mashed potatoes infused with tender deer meat, a rare and highly coveted delicacy that only the wealthiest of Westeros could afford. The diverse range of dishes served was a testament to the town's thriving trade industry, featuring not only Westerosi cuisine but also exotic dishes from Braavos, elevating the feast to a truly cosmopolitan experience.

The tables were overflowing with an abundance of pies, each one more tempting than the last. There were succulent strawberry pies with a tangy twist of lemon, creamy cheese pies with a hint of savory herbs, and even exotic pies from far-off lands, their flavors a mystery waiting to be discovered.

As the meal progressed, guests indulged in a dizzying array of desserts, each more delectable than the last. Cheesecakes with their velvety texture and delicate flavors, boiled eggs drizzled with sweet honey, and fragrant apple cakes with a hint of cinnamon were just a few of the treats on offer.

For those with more adventurous tastes, there were cod cakes with their savory seafood flavor, cream cakes with their fluffy texture and rich cream filling, and honey cakes that tasted like a sweet kiss from the gods. Honeyfingers from Tyrosh, oatcakes filled with juicy blackberries, and pinenut oatcakes with their nutty crunch were just a few of the other delights that filled the air with their heavenly aromas.

Daemon was drinking wine with Lyanna and Viserys; Aemma was mainly listening to them as they talked about Viserys's future boys. Lyanna then brought up her first time hunting in the Wolf's Wood, much to Daemon's amusement.

As Daemon drank wine, he saw Lord Manderly saying something to Prince Baelon. Usually, Daemon wouldn't care what his father was talking about with the northern lord, but when he heard Aenar's name being mentioned, his curiosity was peaked; as he listened closely, it didn't take long for Daemon to realize that Lord Manderly was thinking of himself as worthy enough to have a royal marriage for his own house.

"My granddaughter Isla is the beauty of our house. I'm sure she would make Prince Aenar very happy." 

As Daemon listened to the man's suggestion, he couldn't help but feel a surge of disbelief and irritation rise within him, causing him to erupt into a burst of mocking laughter that echoed throughout the room. However, as the laughter died down, a part that was tempted to reach for his blade and cut the man's throat for daring to suggest such a foolish and dangerous idea. His son was more worthy than all his worthless family; second, his granddaughter was over fourteen-name days older than Aenar. While age hadn't stopped the lords before from marrying young ladies to old lords and visa versa. Daemon would never agree to it.

My son deserves a girl with Valyrian blood, nothing less, Daemon thought, Lyanna giving him a glare for laughing like that in front of everyone, but Daemon didn't really care.

Daemon's attention was drawn toward the direction where his son was supposed to be sitting, but to his surprise, he found the seat empty. As he scanned through the feast, he realized that his son wasn't the only one missing; Rhaenyra and Lady Laena were nowhere to be seen either.

The sudden realization sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but wonder where his son had disappeared. With a hint of worry and concern in his voice, he turned to his wife and asked.

"Lya, where's our son?" She could sense the fear in his voice and also noticed the absence of their son, which made her feel equally uneasy.

"Did they sneak out? Where's Ser Ryam?" As she and Daemon stood up.

Aenar

"They must be around here," Aenar's voice was heard as Rhaenyra, Laena, and Aenar walked out of the town.

Ever since the grand Arrival of the royal family in White Harbor, the city had been pulsating with excitement and activity. The bustling streets were alive with the sounds of people chattering, merchants haggling, and children playing games. For Aenar, Nyra, and Laena, this presented the perfect opportunity to slip away unnoticed. With so many people milling about, they could easily blend into the crowd and make their way outside the city walls.

Once they were out of the gates, it didn't take long to find them despite the darkness of the night. They quickly saw the sleeping figures of the Dragons.

All of them were sleeping beside one another, except Cannibal and Meleys, who were keeping their distance from the other four dragons. Vhagar was sleeping at the highest point of the landscape.

Aenar, Rhaenyra, and Laena gracefully made their way toward the sleeping dragons. As they drew closer, the dragons began to stir from their deep slumber, their nostrils flaring and their eyes blinking open as they sensed the approaching figures. Among them was Vhagar, who had been resting peacefully until the trio's arrival. With a keen sense of awareness, Vhagar quickly scanned the area, her piercing gaze locking onto the figures before her. However, upon realizing that it was not her rider Baelon who had come to disturb her rest, Vhagar gave a mighty yawn and settled back down into her nest, her powerful wings folding in around her as she drifted off once again into a peaceful slumber.

Vermithor and Silverwing lay sound asleep, nestled beside one another in a tender and loving embrace, their powerful necks coiled around each other in a protective and affectionate manner. Despite their fearsome reputation as fierce and untamed creatures of the sky, these two dragons were known to have a close bond.

Suddenly, the sound of soft footsteps echoed across the land, causing Vermithor and Silverwing to stir from their slumber and slowly open their eyes. As they peered over their massive shoulders, they saw three small figures approaching them, their curious gazes fixed on the dragons with a mixture of awe and trepidation. However, despite the children's obvious interest in them, Vermithor and Silverwing remained unfazed.

The only ones who were interested in Aenar's arrival were Cannibal and Caraxes; the latter was never hostile towards Aenar and always enjoyed his presence.

Aenar watched in awe as Cannibal slowly approached; the dragon's green eyes shone like precious jewels in the darkness of the night, casting an eerie glow on everything around him. The only source of illumination came from the full moon that hung high in the sky, its soft blue light bathing the landscape in an otherworldly hue. As Cannibal drew closer, Aenar could see the intricate details of his scales, each one gleaming in the moonlight like a polished gemstone. The dragon's wings were spread wide, casting a shadow over Aenar that made him feel small and insignificant in comparison.

As the Cannibal's massive form slowly approached Aenar, who was standing bravely in front of the trio, the ground trembled beneath the weight of his colossal feet and wings. With each step, the sound of his approach echoed like thunder throughout the surrounding area. The Cannibal's head, which was alone bigger than a house, loomed menacingly over Aenar, casting a shadow that engulfed the entire area.

The black dragon approached Aenar with curiosity; leaning closer, Aenar could feel his hot breath from his nose, his green eyes looking at him in a friendly way; Aenar extended his hand to touch his jaw when Rhaenyra made the mistake of taking a step closer.

Cannibal's attention was drawn to her, and his demeanor changed completely. The once friendly-looking dragon now appeared ferocious, with his green eyes resembling the fiery glow of Wildfire. As he growled, baring his large teeth, Rhaenyra felt a wave of fear wash over her. She quickly began to retreat, but with each step, Cannibal seemed to grow more agitated. Deep within his throat, she could see a green fire starting to build.

"Gīda Cannibal. Kesīr. (Calm Cannibal. Here)" Gently extending his hand towards the beast, Aenar could feel his heart pounding in his chest. But as the black dragon leaned closer, its menacing form now towering above him. Cannibal's once ferocious demeanor seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of calm and docility as Aenar's hand made contact with Cannibal's sharp black scales.

"Sȳz Cannibal. Iksi raqirossa (Good Cannibal. We are friends.)." Aenar spoke with a bright smile as his hands touched the dragon's nose; Cannibal poured at his touch and seemed to agree with his words.

Seeing that Cannibal wasn't dangerous to Aenar, Caraxes stopped building up the fire in his throat and decided to lie down. He let out a roar to the night sky, followed by the other dragons nearby. Their roar was booming in the night sky.

Laena couldn't help but watch in awe as Aenar was stroking Cannibal's scales.

Having a dragon is amazing. When the time comes, I want to claim a Dragon as large as Cannibal. She thought with conviction; her eyes flickered at Vhagar and Vermithor, who were sleeping soundly, before quickly turning her attention back to Aenar.

After a few minutes of silence around them, the only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. Suddenly, breaking through the tranquility, the unmistakable sound of galloping hooves echoed through the air. Aenar pulled away from Cannibal as he saw his father and mother dismounting their horses, their faces almost white with concern. Cannibal walked away as Daemon and Lyanna hugged their son, kissing his cheek before checking if all of them had any injuries.

"Don't sneak out like that. Why did you come here?" Daemon questioned Aenar strictly, as Lyanna was busy telling Rhaenyra and Laena to come with them back to the castle.

"Cannibal was feeling lonely, Kepa."

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