Chapter 1. Dragon Rider

225 3 0
                                    

Visenya Velaryon had done it after years of wanting and praying to the seven for a dragon. She finally got one, not just any dragon, one of the fiercest in the world. Her egg not hatching as an infant had been a good thing. After all, a dragon the size of Vermax did not seem ideal when fighting a war against other larger, tougher, and battle-seasoned beasts. She didn't have anything against her brother's dragon and had always been happy for him to have such a loyal beast since birth, but any person with sense knew that dragons grew slowly, and this war was not waiting for anyone. It needed to be fought, and sooner rather than later.

She was only ten and six when she claimed the most feared creature on Dragonstone, much to her mother's dismay. On the other hand, Daemon proved to be a proud father when he spotted his daring stepdaughter in the sky, seated upon a large, black-scaled monster. He called for Rhaenyra to join him on the balcony, pointing to the sight in front of them, awe written on his face.

She gasped, fear lurching in her chest, for her only daughter was riding saddle-less on the creature that smallfolk referred to as The Cannibal. Rhaenyra's hands rested on the stone top of the balcony, clutching it as if she were about to witness her baby being thrown off the beast or, worse yet, eaten before her eyes. "We must stop her," she began, looking to her husband, "If we mount Ceraxes and Syrax, we could save her, talk some sense into her to get her back on the ground."

Daemon, more calm and collected than the overly protective mother beside him, let out a soothing sigh, "It is a test ride." He reasoned, "If Cannibal did not want to be ridden, he would not allow Visenya to get close enough to mount him. He already chose her as his rider, and now he tests her courage and strength in the air."

As if in unison with his words, the dragon soared upwards, his coal-black wings flapping against the strong wind. He steered to the side below the clouds, the Velaryon girl turning sideways with him, her hands and legs tightening firmly to the beast's horns. The two were horizontal, and the Targaryen mother feared how well of a flier the dragon could be, for they were descending faster to the sea, and she heard a faint scream that brought her to push herself into her husband's arms, distress taking over.

Daemon's eyes were fixated on the flying reptile, "As much as I loathe admitting this, Cannibal has fought and killed numerous dragons in all his years of living compared to any other dragon. Possibly, even my Ceraxes would not stand a chance against him."

Rhaenyra knew this to be true, but the hope of trying to save her daughter did not leave her head. With Daemon's words echoing in her mind, she remained where she was, praying to the mother that her daughter would soon have her feet back on the ground of Westeros. "What was she thinking of claiming a wild dragon? There is Seasmoke and Vermithor still residing on Dragonstone, couldn't she have chosen a one that was previously ridden?"

Daemon did not comment; he was intensely focused on the sight before their eyes.

Visenya, gripping the beast, had never felt so terrified yet so free. The shouts from Dragonstone and its fishing village could be heard from even the sky, and she enjoyed the fear her new dragon gave them, perhaps a little too much. Her thighs, though seated in what could possibly be the most comfortable position, were still victims of pain, for Cannibal's bumpy and sharp horns were not only situated on his head but rather stretched throughout his entire body. She could already feel the cuts and scratches on her legs and hands. This did not seem to matter to the young maiden, for it was a small price to ride possibly the most fiercest dragon in the world.

Cannibal was indeed testing her strength, soaring to the side, descending and ascending up and down, giving the girl little to no breaks to catch her breath. Finally, as if he decided she was worthy, he dipped strongly downwards before extending his thick and powerful wings to catch himself before hitting the water. The two, dragon and dragonrider, glided gracefully above the sea. Visenya could now loosen her grip, her hands sore from the chaotic ride. She gave them a shake, her fingers aching.

A Dance of Frost and FlameWhere stories live. Discover now