Dance of The Dragonwolf

Set Your Wings Free

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The Following 15 Chapters are available for Patrons.

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), Chapter 35 (A Dance Under The Full Moon), Chapter 36 (Magic is Dark and Full of Lies), Chapter 37 (A Prince and A Princess), Chapter 38 (A Tourney of Sacrifice), Chapter 39 (Words are like an Arrow), Chapter 40 (Viserys's Decision), Chapter 41 (Aenar's Answer), Chapter 42 (You Will Doom Us All), Chapter 43 (The First Cry of War), and Chapter 44 (Revenge is a dish best served Cold) are already available for Patrons.

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Aenar Targaryen

Death sits heavily on her bones. The stench, the idea, the wonderment. It all weighs her down until she's been consumed by it. At night, she dreams of ragged green cloaks with streaks of reddish-brown dragging down the cloth.

Alicent is quiet as she goes down the main corridor, for the Realm's Delight slept in the chambers down the East Hallway, tucked away in gowns of silk and satin. Aemma Arryn kept her chambers in the same direction, and she was known for being a light sleeper, often prone to going to the gardens in the early evening. With the flickering of a dimming flame, she guides herself to the wall, laying her head against it slowly. The wall was warm and dark, safe and rough.

"My lady?"

Her eyes open wearily. She was exhausted, tired beyond just sleep. Shining purple eyes stared back at her with such....

Light.

"Do you need help-- Lady Alicent!"

It takes her a long moment to realize who she spoke to, and it sends ice through her veins, for she takes much too long to bow low to him. Her curtsy takes her low, a hair's breadth away from the ground, and Prince Viserys smiles when she rises.

"Lady Alicent, do you remember me?"

How could I? You barely glanced at me that day we met, for I was a shy child, and you were a handsome boy.

He's man, yet his smile was the rising of a youthful sun that burned bright for the first time. He was tall beyond belief, towering over her with the most lovely silver-gold hair that reflected a soft orange from the flickering flames around them. It shone like a halo of fire, a crown for a Targaryen king, and Alicent felt overwhelmed at the sight of him.

"I was going to ask, Lady Alicent if you needed me to escort you to your chambers, for I thought you a maiden lost." Prince Viserys takes her offered hand, kissing the edge of her knuckles in a way that sends a flame back through her until every part feels warm.

Alicent cannot help herself.

She laughs.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

Prince Viserys watches her face for a long moment. "Are you sad, Lady Alicent?" He stepped back from her, eyes furrowed thoughtfully. "Where are you going, my lady? It's very late. A lady shouldn't be alone, even here in the Keep."

"I don't know. I suppose I was just walking."

The Prince beams, "Can I walk with you? Perhaps I can cheer you. My wife is asleep, and I'm restless myself." He offers her his arm, bending it so she might slip her own into it. It's not a gesture taken lightly, for anyone who saw them may gossip of a married man with the Hand's ambitious young daughter. Surely, he should be embarrassed to be with a woman wearing an out-of-fashion dress with unplaited hair.