Game of thrones: A storm is coming

Daeron PoV

I stood at the bow of the ship, the salty wind whipping through my hair, my gaze fixed on the horizon. Driftmark was already a fading memory behind me, but the weight of my encounter with Rhaenys and Corlys still lingered, specially the parting words of Rhaenys. Little brother, huh? I didn't have any siblings before, and to think I'd have a sister who is a fictional character. NJ o, they are not just that.

Bob, a humble coachman, or William, the wandering scholar; they were real people, with real feelings and stories. Even Rhaenys, Corlys or my instructor Garett. Everyone has a life they cherish , a story to tell, a family to return to. I can't decide their existence isn't important or not just because I've thought them merely fictional.

It's been a month since I left Driftmark. I decided to take a detour and didn't go to dragonstone directly. I helped around the ship to pay my fare. It wasn't fun, but it had to be done. I didn't want spread my identity too much for what I'm about to attempt . If I survive, I might be dubbed traitor. If I die , well, that's that I guess. There's a quote I remember from a show, " If you fight and win , you don't have explain your means. If you lose, there's nothing left to explain."

In this one month of travel, my understanding of the world changed. I talked with a lot of common people , and despite them not knowing much, they could paint a clearer picture of the world than any noble or books. I got information about current state of Westeros and how the people lived. Also, it seems Viserys is settling down well as King. I tried to get knowledge about his personality and surprisingly, most people only said good things about him.

Rhaenys's words still echoed in my mind, especially the mention of my blood. Aemon Targaryen. Could I really be his son? Could Rhaenys be actually my older sister? The idea was both thrilling and terrifying. But whether the truth was buried in the past or just a fleeting possibility, it didn't change the fact that I had to create a place for myself.

I couldn't afford to get lost in the mystery of my origins. The game was too dangerous, and I wasn't going to let anyone control me—least of all because of blood I didn't fully understand.

Rhaenys had warned me, in her own way, that the world was cruel, but I wasn't alone in it, but I couldn't ignore her true message: Don't be a tool to be used by others. And so far, I can only think of a few people that would be a threat directly. The king , his brother , the hand Otto are the 3 key players other than Corlys. And all of them have motives to kill me.

I'd thought about her words long after she left me at the docks. The Targaryen blood in me could be a valuable weapon, something to either be wielded as a knife, or cast aside, and I wasn't about to let it be the latter. I needed to make my own mark on my terms. And I needed power, real power, something that couldn't be taken away from me, a true deterrent.

That's where Dragonstone came into play.

I don't have much power physically. Anyone can snatch my sword and kill me; a 9-year-old can't do much to stop him. For that regard, it might have been easier to just stay under Corlys and build myself up slowly, but what is the point of this journey if I don't even follow my own path? I guess it's the one piece fanboy inside me talking!

It might sound childish, but I'd rather die trying to carve out my own path than become a pawn and live peacefully under others. I'll use every part of my brain and resources available to find out any possible solutions, and if not, I'll have to gamble. But I refuse to be used by others.

I guess this comes from my past life. As a simple employee, all I had to do was keep my head down and obey. My opinions didn't matter, and neither did anyone care about my existence. I was one of those nameless people in the crowd, never to be remembered.

I have to prove to myself that my existence matters. I shall do whatever it takes and die without any regrets. But let's not think about death; any gamble can pay off if your risks are calculated . Who knows, I might be the first bastard ever to claim a dragon. 

Although I'd have preferred not to take such risks, my options have been limited. My existence won't be hidden for long. So I need to be prepared and strong enough to weather the storms. The king might not be lenient like Rhaenys and Corlys, as he just took the throne. If I am indeed Aemon's bastard, my existence will be a risk for him. He won the throne after beating Rhaenys due to him being a man. But if Aemon had a son, things would be much different. A legitimized bastard might even cause a civil war, and I believe Corlys wanted to play that angle.

So for my safety and future plan, I have to go and tame a dragon. Pro: I get a dragon. Con: I become dragon food if failed. It will also put me in the spotlight and get attention of key players. But I'd rather die riding a dragon and fighting than die at the hands of some greedy bandit or soldier.

I plan to tame Vermithor or Silverwing, as they are big and more gentle than the rest of them.If not, Grey Ghost or Sheepstealer.

 Although, from my recent knowledge, there seems to be another dragon named Cannibal, I'm not going to get within even one mile of his cave location. That guy has the worst record after all despite being the biggest dragon currently and old as Baelerion. That guy eats dragons for breakfast, and not just humans. But he's probably like Vhagar, old and grumpy.

The sea stretched out before me as we sailed toward Dragonstone. The journey had been uneventful so far, just the endless expanse of water and the occasional call of gulls. But in my mind, the tension was building. Every inch closer to the island, I felt the weight of my decision pressing harder on my shoulders. The journey to Dragonstone was long, the sea rougher than I had anticipated. The ship creaked and groaned as the wind howled around us, but I kept my eyes on the distant silhouette of Dragonstone. It loomed over the water like a jagged crown, its dark cliffs rising from the sea like a fortress of ancient stone.

Every part of me was on edge, my mind racing with the risks of what I was about to do. The weight of my decision was heavier than I expected, but I couldn't turn back now. I was here for a reason: to carve my own fate. Dragonstone—my first step toward power, toward claiming my destiny. But with that step came danger, the kind of danger I hadn't fully prepared for.

I had spent the last few days strategizing, plotting how to approach the dragons. They weren't just mindless beasts—they were living, breathing symbols of power. And if I could claim one, I could stand at the head of the world. But I had to be cautious. The last thing I needed was to get myself killed by a creature that could incinerate me in a heartbeat.

Dragonstone loomed on the horizon as we approached, its jagged silhouette rising from the water like a sharp tooth. The volcanic island was as foreboding as ever, but it was also the perfect place to hide away from prying eyes. The dragons weren't kept in cages—they roamed free, the ancient beasts still loyal to the Targaryens, still living in the caves of Dragonmount. Getting to them wasn't going to be easy. I'd need to be swift, silent, and, most importantly, lucky.

Dragonstone was home to dragons—real, living dragons. The kind that could turn an entire army into ash. The idea of claiming one for myself, of having that kind of power, was intoxicating. But the reality was daunting. Even the idea of trying to get close to a dragon was a gamble, and the odds were not in my favor.

I slipped off the ship under the cover of darkness, my heart pounding as I made my way toward the cliffs. I couldn't risk being seen; I couldn't afford to make a single mistake. Once I was on land, I moved as quietly as possible, keeping low to avoid any patrols or guards who might be watching the mountain. Dragonstone was never truly deserted, but tonight I hoped the skies would be clear enough for me to slip past unnoticed.

It was late at evening when I finally reached the foot of the mountain. The moonlight cast an eerie glow over the path, the jagged rocks seeming to stretch out into infinity. The air smelled faintly of sulfur, and the distant sound of the dragons' growls echoed through the night. I felt my heart race in my chest as I took a deep breath and began the climb.

The path was steep, the rocks slick with age and wear. The higher I went, the colder the air became. I had expected it, but it didn't make it any easier. Every step felt like it could be my last. The thought of falling into the dark abyss below kept my mind sharp, even as my thoughts wandered to the dragon I planned to tame.

Vermithor. Silverwing, Grey Ghost. Maybe even Shepstealer. They were the ones I was after—big, powerful, but not as temperamental. I had done my research, after all.

But there was a problem. Vermithor was known to be particularly protective of his space, and his mate, Silverwing—well, she was wiser, and a bit less difficult to approach. But I would figure it out. The alternative was worse: being an easy tool for anyone who thought they could use me.

As I neared the top of the mountain, a sharp gust of wind howled through the narrow pass, and I froze. The air shifted, and I caught the unmistakable sound of large wings beating in the distance. My heart skipped a beat. The dragons—they were close.

I crept forward, careful to stay hidden in the shadows, but then a low growl broke the silence. It came from behind me. My instincts kicked in. I spun around, just in time to see a massive shape descending from the dark sky—a shadow with glowing eyes.

It was Grey Ghost. A dragon with a reputation as fierce and relentless as any beast of such destruction in the world. His pale, almost translucent scales shimmered in the moonlight, and his wings were as vast as the night itself. I could see the fire in his eyes, the cold intelligence that made him a terror to all who sought to tame him.

I cursed under my breath. I hadn't expected him to be here, let alone so close. He had been elusive, a dragon that many thought to be just a story told to scare off would-be dragonriders. But there he was, his massive wings beating with the force of a storm as he landed on a cliff just a few feet from me.

Although my first thought was to communicate with him , his demeanor didn't look like one for conversation. I turned to flee, heart pounding in my chest, but it was too late. Grey Ghost let out a roar that shook the very earth beneath my feet. The sound was deafening, sending an icy shiver down my spine. His eyes locked onto me, and I could feel his gaze burning through me, like he could smell my fear.

I scrambled, my limbs pushing on the rocky path, but the dragon was faster. He lunged, snapping his jaws just inches from my heels. I barely dodged in time, the air thick with the heat from his breath.

I ran, my legs pumping as I tried to put distance between us. But Grey Ghost was relentless. He soared above me, his wings cutting through the air with terrifying speed. I could hear his claws scraping against the stone, as he tracked my every movement.

I had no choice now but to keep moving, to pray the rocks would offer me some kind of escape. I darted into a narrow crevice between two jagged rocks, my heart hammering in my chest. Grey Ghost's screech echoed around me, his fury undeterred by the darkness.

I pressed myself against the cold stone, trying to slow my breathing, hoping the dragon would lose track of me. I could feel the heat of his breath as he hovered nearby, his wings stirring the air like a hurricane. But just as I thought I might be able to slip away, I heard the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against rock. Grey Ghost was coming. And if I didn't find a way out, I would be the next victim of the dragon's wrath.

I bolted forward, my feet barely touching the ground as I sprinted for cover in the narrow crevices of the mountain. Behind me, the deafening roar of Grey Ghost echoed through the night, signaling the hunt had begun. My heart hammered in my chest, the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears. I had no plan now—only survival.

I stumbled over jagged rocks, my breath ragged as the dragon's heavy footsteps grew closer. I could hear it, its massive form thrashing through the caves. It was gaining on me.

Damn, this was a mistake!

I turned a corner, but the path narrowed, forcing me to press myself against the stone wall. Grey Ghost's claws scraped along the rock, the sound sending shivers through my spine. I felt its hot breath wash over me, the heat radiating from the dragon's body enough to make the air shimmer.

I forced myself to stay still, to control my breathing, to make myself seem as small as possible. But I knew it was only a matter of time before the dragon would find me. And once it did... I would be nothing more than a meal.

I took another breath, trying to calm myself. If I was going to make it out of here, I had to think. No panic. Just think.

I couldn't outrun Grey Ghost, but maybe I could outsmart it. I remembered something from the stories I had heard—dragons were territorial, yes, but they were also prideful, driven by their instinct to protect their hoard. Maybe I could use that against it.

I searched desperately for anything I could use, anything to distract or confuse the creature long enough for me to escape. My eyes landed on a pile of sharp rocks near the base of the cave. Without thinking, I grabbed a handful, turning and hurling them down the path. The sound of the rocks tumbling down the mountain rang out, echoing through the cave system.

It worked. For a moment, Grey Ghost's attention shifted, the dragon's massive head swinging toward the noise. I seized the opportunity, sprinting through the cave and toward the opposite entrance, hoping that the dragon's instincts would drive it to investigate the sound rather than pursue me.

But the time I gained wasn't enough. I heard the dragon's wings once more, and the ground beneath me began to shake with the heavy, thunderous steps of its pursuit. I was trapped. There was no escaping the beast.

Grey Ghost was close now. Too close. I could hear its claws scraping against the rock as it pursued me relentlessly. I had no choice but to turn, to face the dragon head-on.

In a flash, its enormous eyes locked onto mine, and I saw the hunger there. The fear in my chest was replaced by a strange resolve. If I was going to die here, it wouldn't be as some helpless child. I would face the dragon, fight for my life.

But before I could make another move, there was a distant shout from above in human voices, and the dragon hesitated, its predatory gaze shifting to the new threat.

I didn't wait to see what happened next. I bolted for the exit, my legs burning, my heart pounding. As I reached the outside, the cool night air was a welcome relief. I didn't stop running until the sound of Grey Ghost's roars faded into the distance.

For now, I was alive. But I had learned something valuable tonight: claiming a dragon wasn't just about courage and bloodline, it was about knowing when to run.

And maybe, just maybe, I wasn't ready for Grey Ghost yet. But I was still determined to tame a dragon here.