Baptism | Cregan Stark

twenty

(Please do not ghostread)

(note: high valyrian is in italics)

In the skies above Kings Landing, Aelyna soared majestically on her dragon, a silver haired girl on the back of the old king Jaehaerys's dragons back. The bronze fury's scales glint like molten metal, a blend of gold that shimmered with each of its powerful wingbeats. 

Insead of donning the signature black and red, Aelyna wore a different cloak. A cloak she had stolen from Cregan Stark. Aelyna wanted- needed something of him to fall asleep to at night. A token that would ease her nights until she would return to Winterfell for her wedding.

Below, the sprawling city of Kings Landing stretched out, its labyrinthine streets teeming with life just as she had remembered it. The people of the city craned their necks and shaded their eyes, as they watched in awe of Vermithor flying over them. His size shadowed large parts of the city, a dark shadow loomed over the Capitol as though it was an omen of some kind. Children pointed and gasped, their eyes wide with wonder and fear, while vendors bustled marketplaces paused their haggling to stare at awe. The girl seated on top of the beast was unfamiliar to them all. 

The elderly, who remembered the days of youth when Jahaerys and Alysanne flew their dragons, whispered prayers or curses under their breath. Suddenly the aching pain of age in their bones ceased to exist as though they were children running behind the looming shadows of Silverwing and Vermithor.

Aelyna felt a sense of pride within herself as she looked overhead to the wandering eyes of the people. The sight of her and her dragon, a reminder of the ancient house she was born into. 

Bastard or not, she was of the blood of the dragon.

As they continued to fly the dragonpit came into Aelyna's sight. She doubted that Vermithor would even fit. It had been years since abandoning Dragonstone, and he had only grown. Vermithor groaned as he circled the dragonpit, slowly lowering his body to the ground.

Aelyna felt herself become irritable by the dragon keepers already circling them. "Lykiri, Vermithos. Dohaeragon nyke. Lykiri, lykiri." Aelyna commanded as her hand petted the scaled on his back.

She unhooked herself from the saddle, sliding down her dragons wing. She bit the glove from her hand as her hand petted against the scales of his neck "Dekuragon arli." Aelyna's hand remained on her dragon as she warned the dragon keepers. Already she felt suffocated by how one is never alone in Kings Landing. After years of travel she had forgotten just how insufferable the dragonkeepers were, and Vermithor could sense it.                                    

(step back)

They did not listen. In fact one was bold enough to slowly approach the dragon and his rider. "Are you fucking deaf?!" Aelyna's head whipped back "I said get away from him." she scolded

Vermithor did not take the dragon keepers word so easily. His nostrils flared, as he let out a low, rumbling growl. Smoke billowed from his maw. It swirled around Aelyna as she moved along his neck to his face. Aelyna stared back into his eyes, her reflection in his as her hand remained on his scales 

Firmly she affirmed him again "Vermithor. Dohaeras, jorraelagon."                                        

(serve, my love)

Aelyna's open palm on the dragon. She kept her focus on the dragon alone. Vermithor's eyes glanced between his rider and the dragonriders. There was a tense silence between the two, the unspoken bond between the dragons and the Targaryen girl. Slowly Vermithor lowered his head into her touch. Aelyna stood her ground as she calmed herself as she breathed as one with him.