The Lion And The Dragon

Blood Of The Dragon - Aegon "Targaryen" POV

I had been plagued by nightmares for two weeks now. Nightmares of people in pain, people dying and burning. A red dragon falling into a lake, badly wounded and a black one flying out of the lake. Nightmares of death and destruction. All of them share one thing. In the end, I seat myself upon the Iron Throne to reign over dust and bone. As if. I have no intention to be king of some wasteland. Should I ever have to burn my enemies, I shall. But I will be merciful when they kneel and swear fealty to their rightful king.

It was another hot summer day in Pentos. The last time I remember a cloudy, snowy day was during the Long Night in Westeros, two years ago. Griff wasn't in the Magister's palace today. I had looked for him everywhere, but I was told by Illyrio that he went somewhere for "old times' sake". What in the world does he have in Pentos? Whatever. It doesn't matter. Illyrio gave me wine, and the more I looked at him, the more I saw.. myself, really. When he was slim and young, we must've had similar features. Now he's just a drunken fat man ruling over a Free City. Time is cruel.

I had longed for Griff's company the entire day, for he is my closest companion. I was lonely, so I started playing my harp. I sang a song in High Valyrian, about the Dance beneath the Gods' Eye, and the deaths of Prince Aemond and Prince Deamon. It was a mournful tune, as the two men danced away my birthright, killing themselves while doing so. In my mind, they were fools. A son comes before a daughter. That's a lesson my aunt had failed to learn and paid with her life for it.

I had desired my birthright 1 and 20 years, but no more. I heard a roar which shook the entirety of Pentos. It must've been a dragon, only such a creature can cause this sound. I had ran, looking for the dragon I knew there was. Then I saw him. It was Drogon, Daenerys' old mount. Drogon's scales were black, his horns and spinal plates were blood red, and his eyes were smoldering red pits. When I came closer, I found that his teeth were as black as coal as well.

As everyone had ran away, I was the only one in front of the dragon. He had looked me over, deciding whether or not he'd attack me.
"Dohaeras, Drogon." I said, trying to sound intimidating. How could I intimidate a damn dragon? I'd give it a shot.
He had glared at me, roaring once more to scare me off. I wasn't afraid. I was born for this. I either die now, or I claim him for my mount. There's no other choice.
"Dohaeras!" I tried to come closer to mount him.
"Ivestragi nyke kipagon ao, Drogon." I had hoped that a dragon could understand High Valyrian. Could they? I honestly don't know. My High Valyrian had a hint of Pentoshi accent to it, yet he seemed to understand me.
"Iksan se anogar hen zaldrizes.  Mazoregon nyke hae aoha kipagiros." Am I really trying to reason with a dragon? As if today couldn't get more bizzare.
I had touched his scales. They were hard and spiky, but I didn't get cut. He had stepped closer to me.
He had a saddle on his back, probably from Daenerys. But.. is this really Drogon? Didn't he die in Blackwater Bay? The usurper woman probably lied. I will come with him and burn her world.

I mounted the Dragon. I half-expected him to throw me off, but.. he didn't. On the saddle lay his whip. I grabbed it and shouted a command:
"Sovegon!"

And so I flew on Drogon, and looked at the city below. I wanted to fly west, but I needed to wait. One dragon cannot win a kingdom. Instead, I flew east. At first, I let him lead me, until he turned south. In which case I cracked the whip and shouted:
"Dohaeras!"
I know what happens when a Dragonrider rides south these days. Poor Aerea. She didn't deserve her fate. I do not wish to emulate her. I do not know for how long we have been flying or where we are. I saw cities. Different cities, villages, different peoples. I saw grass and I saw mud. I saw storm and I saw sun. I was getting tired. I didn't know where I am, yet when I saw a huge city below me, I landed.

Immediately, people swarmed me. People of tanner skin, speaking a language I didn't know. Where was I? "Where am I?" I asked in High Valyrian, hoping some would speak it. Of course they didn't, they were peasants. Yet I saw a man with a huge retinue arriving. He was fat and old, I would say ugly, even. Yet he seemed to have great power. He spoke to me in almost perfect High Valyrian:
"Greetings my esteemed dragonriding friend. You have landed yourself in Yunka'i, if you didn't already know."
Yunka'i? Am I in Slaver's Bay? Did I get that far? How long have I been flying for?
"Good Master, I apologize for my rudeness and indecency. I had just claimed this dragon, and I flew wherever he brought me." This wasn't a total lie. But it made it seem less awkward.
"No rude gesture on your part, friend. May I ask, kind sir, what is your name?"
"Aegon of the House Targaryen, sixth of my name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm."
"Then we shall feast this king!"
I guess he didn't know about Cersei.

After feasting for five days, I have started missing Pentos. I need to fly back. Griff must be worried. Illyrio as well. They must have sent search parties for me. Poor Griff probably thinks I'm dead already, with how depressing he is. I had said goodbye to the Master of Yunka'i, mounted Drogon and flew back to Pentos. As I was leaving, the only words I could think of were:
Fire and Blood.