Dance of The Dragonwolf

A Song of Happiness

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The Following 15 Chapters are available for Patrons.

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), Chapter 28 (A Last Talk), Chapter 29 (Set Your Wings Free), Chapter 30 (The Young Dragon), Chapter 31 (A Song for A Lady), Chapter 32 (The Calm Before), Chapter 33 (Lady Hightower), Chapter 34 (The Storm), and Chapter 35 (A Dance Under The Full Moon) are already available for Patrons.

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Aenar Targaryen

As they traveled South, the Royal Family's path unfolded with a delightful contrast to their previous expedition to the North. This time, their way was adorned with a series of castles, each one eagerly extending its hospitality to accommodate the distinguished guests - The Royal Family.

Lord Manderly stood out among the generous hosts, radiating enthusiasm as he organized extravagant feasts once again, surpassing his previous endeavors to honor the esteemed visitors. While the entourage reveled in the luxurious surroundings, Prince Aenar found solace in the company of Rhaenyra and Ghost. Although it took some time, Rhaenyra gradually shed her initial trepidation, finding comfort in Ghost's presence. No longer plagued by fear.

Whenever Aenar had the opportunity, he eagerly joined his father in training sessions, honing his skills in wielding a dagger. His father would impart valuable knowledge, teaching him the art of swiftly drawing a dagger from its holster with utmost agility. The lessons were not only focused on technique but also emphasized the importance of being prepared for any situation that might require the use of a dagger.

Daemon's voice resonated with authority, his words carrying the weight of experience. With a stern gaze fixed directly upon Aenar's eyes, he emphasized the gravity of his message, every syllable etching itself deep into his son's consciousness. "Swords, Aenar," Daemon began, his voice tinged with a hint of caution, "Swords are long and heavy," With a fatherly concern etched upon his weathered face, Daemon continued, his voice carrying a somber tone. "you might be the fastest swordsman in Westeros, but someone with a good hand and a knife, will always slice your throat before you can even pull out the sword in close distance," A hushed silence settled over the room as Daemon's words hung in the air, the weight of his cautionary tale resonating deeply within the young warrior's soul.

Aenar knew that in his past life, he never used daggers; he always preferred swords, so learning how to wield a dagger was something he had never been taught before; Aenar had nothing against it; he loved to spend as much time as possible with his father.

He always wanted an excuse to spend more time with him, he wanted to say that word as much as possible, and now without Lady Catelyn around, he knew he could say it as much as he wanted.

In the depths of Aenar's reminiscence, a nostalgic whisper danced through his mind every time he gazed upon Daemon as if a fleeting echo of Lord Stark resided within him. A constant interplay of emotions unfolded within Aenar's heart, for he couldn't help but draw connections and contrasts between the two. Initially, a part of him feared that he was inadvertently replacing the cherished memory of Lord Stark with Daemon.

Daemon gradually emerged as the father figure he had always yearned for, his paternal essence seeping into Aenar's being, filling the void that had long haunted him. Yet, amidst this profound connection, a disconcerting realization began to surface in Aenar's consciousness: the recollection of Lord Stark's visage was slipping through his fingers like elusive smoke, fading into the recesses of his mind. The once vibrant image of Lord Stark grew increasingly obscure, scarcely gracing the canvas of Aenar's thoughts, leaving him yearning for the memory that was slipping away.