The Prince that was Promised

Orys Targaryen/Jon Snow

Castle Black – Outside the Walls.

He held Shireen's hands as they walked across the courtyard. "Open the gate," he ordered, and the gates opened. "You ready?" he asked Shireen.

"Yes," Shireen replied. Both looked at the place as they walked out—the place that had forever changed his life.

"They're still there," he murmured as they walked out onto the fields beyond Castle Black. In the morning sun, the dragons looked even more massive, and now he could see that the black dragon was larger than Silverwing. The black dragon's name escaped him, so he questioned Shireen. "Tell me, do you know the name of the black dragon? I know the silver one is Silverwing, but the name of the black dragon escapes me."

"Mmm, I'm pretty sure the black dragon is the Cannibal. The dragon ate Ser Denys and his son after they tried to claim Sheepstealer, but they were all burned alive," Shireen answered. She will be a treasure. I had read quite a lot when I was younger, but it seems Shireen will be a true help with her knowledge, he thought.

"Ah, I remember. The Cannibal was infamous for eating other dragons and dragon eggs. Although I think it's time for a new name. I doubt he'll be eating other dragons again," he said with a smile.

As they came closer, the dragons began to rouse with a rumble. He silently lamented, never being able to learn the tongue of his true father's house. It was one of the lessons he never got when he was in Winterfell. "So, any words to use with them? I never had lessons in High Valyrian when I was young," he questioned Shireen, who smiled at him.

"Well, I know some High Valyrian commands. Like lykiri is calm, soves is fly, dohaeras is serve, and dracarys is dragonfire, I believe. But we'll work on your High Valyrian together. It won't do for a Targaryen to not speak the tongue of his ancestors," Shireen answered, smiling and squeezing his hand.

"We shall, and thank you," he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, let's see if we can call ourselves dragonriders after today," he said, stepping aside from Shireen and walking toward the Cannibal. "Lykiri," he said as he walked even closer. The dragon sniffed him loudly. "Dohaeras," he said again. The dragon roared at him, and it took all his willpower not to step away. No, I need a name for him, he thought. "Dohaeras Nightwing," he surprised himself when he said it.

The dragon roared again, but now the dragon lowered its head and looked at him with green eyes flecked with indigo. "Good, Nightwing, Dohaeras," he said. He laid his hand on the giant black snout, his hand a tiny speck on it. As he did, he felt something—something he'd felt before on the pyre—a bond with this companion. A similar sensation to what he'd felt with Ghost.

Then he looked toward Shireen, and it seemed his suspicions were right. Silverwing had lowered her head to kindhearted and wonderful Shireen Baratheon.

"Well done, Shireen," he called to her. As Shireen laid her hand on Sliverwings snout.

"You too. Do you feel that too? That connection with them?" Shireen responded.

"Yes," he replied as he looked back at the massive dragon. He suspected the dragon was around 140 meters long from head to tail. Then he looked back into the dragon's eyes, saw the purple in them, and thought back to the pyre and the strange connection he'd felt then when he'd looked into the dragon's eye. "Aegon, is part of you in there?" he asked, and Nightwing gave a slight grumble. 'Well, my father said, Aegon wanted to help him. Perhaps part of him would now.' He thought happily.

He knew it was time to mount his dragon—to embrace the other half of himself, the dragon part. "May I mount you, Nightwing?" he asked, and Nightwing lowered his shoulder.

He looked back at Shireen, her excitement evident as she mounted Silverwing with careful steps. With Silverwing still having her saddle, it was easier.

"Ready?" he called out to her after he saw her seated in Silverwing's saddle.

"I want a saddle, too," he murmured to Nightwing, who huffed and shifted beneath him. He could feel the raw strength in Nightwing's muscles and the beating of its heart. 'Power' he thought.

Shireen gave him a nod, her eyes wide with awe as she looked down at the massive beast beneath her. "Ready as I'll ever be," she said, her voice steady but full of wonder.

"All right," he murmured, his heart racing. "Soves," he commanded.

Nightwing let out a deep rumble before spreading its massive wings. For a moment, he thought the dragon wouldn't listen, but then, with a powerful leap, Nightwing launched into the sky, his wings beating against the cold northern air.

Silverwing wasn't far behind, taking off with a grace that contrasted Nightwing's raw power. Shireen let out a gasp of exhilaration as Silverwing lifted her high above the frozen landscape. "This... this is incredible!" she called out, her voice carried away by the wind.

"Indeed it is," he called back.

He leaned into Nightwing's movements, gripping the spines on his back as tightly as he could. Damn, no wonder they had saddles, he thought, as they soared higher and higher. The world below shrank, and the vast wilderness of the North stretched out beneath them. He could see everything—the trees, the frozen lakes, the endless expanse of white beyond the Wall.

He felt the rush of the wind, the strength of the dragon beneath him, and for a moment, he forgot everything: the battles, the hardships, the loss. Up here, he was free. Up here, he was one with the skies.

Shireen flew beside him, her hair whipping wildly around her face, her cheeks flushed with joy. She looked over at him and smiled, her eyes bright. "We're really doing it!" she shouted, barely able to contain her excitement.

"Yes, the first dragon flight in Westeros in over 150 years," he replied, smiling.

He grinned back, but as they approached the Wall, something strange happened. Nightwing slowed, his wings beating less enthusiastically as if an invisible barrier had come between them and the Wall. He felt it, too—a strange pressure in the air, a force that kept them from going any farther.

Nightwing growled low in his throat, clearly frustrated. He tried to push forward, but the air itself seemed to resist him. "It's the Wall," he muttered to himself.

"Shireen!" he called out, turning to her. "They can't cross!"

Shireen looked back, her joy momentarily replaced by confusion. Silverwing also seemed reluctant, flapping her wings but unable to push through the barrier. "What do we do?" she asked.

"We turn back," he said.

He didn't know how, but the dragon seemed to understand his thoughts as Nightwing began to turn away from the Wall. Shireen followed suit, and together, they began to descend. The exhilaration still pulsed through him as they began to land.

As they neared the ground, Nightwing let out a soft rumble, almost in protest of their descent. He couldn't help but chuckle. "We will fly more today, Nightwing," he said, sensing the dragon's discontent at stopping their flight together.

Shireen landed gracefully beside him, her face flushed with excitement. "That was... that was beyond anything I imagined."

He dismounted and walked over to her, embracing her. "That was amazing," he said after they broke apart.

"Truly amazing, and we're dragonriders, Orys," Shireen whispered, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded and said, "Yes, we are."

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