A Dragon is not a Slave

Warrior Queen

The night had been long and full of digging. Even with all the men he'd brought, plus the thirty or so Dothraki tripping over their size within the cave walls, the going was slow and laborious. And because no Stark had ever gotten anything done by standing by watching, Jon labored with them until they'd struck into the mountain so far, a whole cavern opened up, like the womb of a woman ready to be filled. It was yet another amazing sight, black shining obsidian, winking in the torchlight and from what he could see, so much that they could make a whole arsenal from it and still not deplete the source. The sun was rising when Jon left the cave and took to a cliff path, to catch a breath of real air before sleeping at last, and this time with a sense of accomplishment.

It might have been later then he first supposed, or else the rest of the island had early risers, for up on the plains he found a game of sorts going on between two of the dragons and a crowd of the braver Dothraki screamers. He'd stuck to the path but found his pace slowing, watching the youths chase down several calves, directly competing with the beasts above them. The game, as far as he could tell, was to prevent the dragons hunting their prey too soon. Or maybe there was not enough food, and here was the means to feed oneself. Madness, he shook his head. What sort of folly does this little girl queen allow...

A thunderous screech tore through the sky, and the larger dragon filled the air with sound and wind. Jon had to shield his eyes to catch the sharpest glint of silver from on top of the massive creatures back.

She can ride them, he realized dumbly. He'd known all along she could ride them, of course, it had been said in all the most recent ravens that he'd poured through before coming south, but it didn't mean much until he actually saw it. So it's all true. She set free all the slaves from in those strange foreign cities who's names are hard to pronounce. She destroyed an entire fleet alone and still she rules those cities by proxy... She even burned a sacred temple, and yet the Dothraki follow her. He was slightly overwhelmed by the thought of it, and wondered, not for the first time, what the rest of her army looked like. Could he do those things? Rule so many? Not without dragons. he decided.

She didn't stop the young riders, she drew her dragon low over them, as though herself on a horse, galloping with the horde. The other two dragons joined, swooping so close over Jons head he had to duck down, and when they called loudly for her, she may have looked his way. The smallest of all three, and yet easily the quickest darted down and stretched it's legs along the ground, slowing to a rumbled halt, joined raucously by his brother in a half-playful tackle. The impact shook the ground, powerfully. Safely on Drogons back, she circled around above.

"Visyrion!"she called, through the wind and the green worm turned to her, and flicked it's tail.

The riders whooped and parted as she cried out a word Jon didn't understand. Just then the green dragon belched out a massive flame which scattered a few horses and riders, and set the terrified calf ablaze. He had to shield his face from the heat, which he felt even where he stood. The screamers filled the plains with their cries, as the green dragon tossed the now mangled carcass high enough in the sky that the dark one swooped down to catch it in his jowls. Deftly the little queen clung tight, and turned to face what Jon had heard her call her blood-riders. They roared to her their respect, riding as close as they dared to the dragons, and brandishing curved blades high above their heads. Though it was with a scowl that he watched her laugh, he did note that her face was as carefree as he'd be likely to see it ever. A queen unlike any I've ever met. he admitted to himself, A warrior queen.

She steered the beast straight up into the sky then, leaving the two younger and the treacherous riders to their sport and Jon to turn back on his way. From then he found himself adrift in thought, following the path doggedly while his mind was somewhere up in the sky above. His thoughts rambled and so did his feet, until thirty minutes led to forty, and still the path had not brought him to the castle gate, like he'd thought it would. Instead he found himself at water level, beneath the highest ramparts of Dragonstone with the stone path stretching on before him, winding here and there. He paused, entirely lost, with only the crashing waves beside him and fatigue gnawing at his eyes.