𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗 || Cregan Stark

13 | Dragon-song

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
D R A G O N - S O N G

-

"The stable boy said he saw him gracing over the Sheepshead hills."

The young voice of her handmaiden ushers behind her. A chilling reminder in the wind.

Viserra sits, her cloaked arms wrapped around herself.

Her gaze is distant, far-removed, staring out into the open plains.

"That's a five-day ride from here," Marra continues. "But then again... dragons fly faster than horses gallop."

Viserra is silent, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon, where the sky meets the rolling hills.

The wind carries the scent of pine and the bite of frost, brushing against her cheek as she remains motionless. The words spoken by the young woman hang in the air, unanswered, as if they too have been lost to the wild expanse before them.

The sound of footsteps against the frosty ground nears her.

Soon, Marra steps into her view.

"Perhaps he'll wish to go home."

Karnax has no home. Not really.

He is estranged and peregrine and accursed.

Viserra gave him what he could not find elsewhere.

"Perhaps he'll wish to burn them all down," the Princess says at last, her voice low and quiet.

He wouldn't be the first.

Marra's face contorts slightly.

"M'lady—"

"Some say Targaryens can't burn, but it's not true. I know it's not true."

Viserra would like to see them burn. For them to reduce to ash and smoke and bone.

She would like to burn, too.

She draws her arms closer to herself, breathing in the biting cold, tethered to a world that refuses to let her go.

Marra's pale brow furrows, her youthful face twisted with wariness. She opens her mouth as if to say something but then closes it again. What words could she offer that wouldn't sound like a hollow echo of what's already been said?

Viserra's eyes remain fixed on the horizon, her thoughts drifting to places both distant and intimate. The chill in the air seems to seep into her very soul, intertwining with the memories of her past and the present uncertainties. She's become a figure of cold determination and brooding silence, the weight of her grief and desire for vengeance etched deeply in her expression.

Marra shifts uneasily beside her, the silence stretching between them.

"Perhaps we will see him soon," she says then, her voice a gentle intrusion. "It is not in a dragon's nature to abandon their rider."

Viserra's gaze wanders absently.

Perhaps she was the one to abandon him. Perhaps she was the one to abandon everything.

She purses her lips.

"I will find him," she says.

She always does.

Marra hesitates.

"I'm sure Lord Stark would prepare a retinue for you, if you were to ask," she says, tilting her chin down and bringing her hands behind her back.