I can feel him before I see him, even in the darkness of the cave; the pulse is there, vibrating through my chest.
"It's you, isn't it, the one from my dreams, I can sense it,"
The dragon's head lifts from the shadows, nostrils flaring, eyes opening, but it doesn't move toward me, only watches, curious.
"It's too dark in here, I can't see you,"
Dark green flames erupt from my hand, casting long, flickering shadows across the cave. The ground trembles as the dragon rises to full height, the cave stretching wide around us.
"There you are, I knew you'd be a big fucker, but seeing you in person, it's completely different."
The giant dragon lowers its head until it's right in front of mine, its massive, muscular body is fully visible now. The connection hums between us, unspoken and undeniable, I reach out and touch the rough, dark obsidian scales along it's neck.
"You feel it, don't you?"
A deep, resonant vibration shivers through the cave, not a simple rumble, but a living, throbbing growl that echoes through stone and bone alike, aware and attentive.
"I've heard of how the Targaryen's ride dragons," I continue softly. "That's how they came to power, they speak a language I don't yet know called High Valyrian, but I know you understand me even without it."
No fear crosses me as I walk along his massive flank toward his wing, as he watches me closely.
"I don't see a saddle or anything," I say with a grin. "Guess it's bareback, reminds me of the good times in Gallipoli, you're pretty much a horse just one hundred times bigger, what could go wrong."
"Help me up, will you?" My voice is firm.
A low, primal tremor pulses from deep in his chest as he extends his wing just enough for me to climb, step by step, I haul myself up, using every ounce of strength my small body can muster. His back stretches beneath me like a road, spikes and jagged scales make it tricky to find balance, but I eventually find a spot a few meters from the base of his neck. I lean down and grip two massive spikes, steadying myself, one wrong move and I'd fall, but I hold fast.
"You know what I want, get us out of this cave."
The dragon's body shifts, long, unused muscles stretching beneath me, a low, sharp growl coming from deep in his throat, I nearly lose my grip, but as he settles, anticipation surges through me, a mix of thrill, trust, and control.
We move deeper into the cave, my lingering flames illuminating the path, shadows dance across his massive form as cracks above begin to let in light, thin at first, then brighter. Soon, a huge opening appears, the salty air hits my nose, morning sunlight glints off the waves below, and a vast, open space stretches before us.
He turns to me and releases a thunderous roar that rips through the walls, sweat beads on my forehead, not fear, but from knowing what's coming.
"No point in waiting,"
"Forward, dive!"
The drop is sudden, wind slaps my face, rocks flash past, my stomach lurches. His wings snap wide, and we skim the surface of the waves, water spraying up in mist. This is what I call pure, indescribable freedom, I never want to lose this feeling.
"Up! Fly, you beast! Hahaha!" I yell, gripping the spikes as he coasts upward.
"Higher! To the clouds!"
His muscles shift, wings flapping powerfully, and soon we rise above the clouds, the world a sea of gold and white beneath us.
"I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!" I scream, voice lost to the wind.
Confidence settles over me, any nervousness that was there melts away.
"Dive! Harder! Now, damn it!" I yell, gripping the spikes tight.
The dragon answers with a deafening roar.
We dive, twisting through the sky, my stomach flips, wind tearing past my face, and then he lifts us, wings slicing the air as we climb higher, spiralling above the cliffs. The spray from the waves far below drifts up, sharp and bracing, but I can't focus on the ocean anymore.
We sweep around the island, gaining height, circling wide to take in the view. From this vantage, the landscape stretches beneath us, sheer cliffs, black stone jutting from the surf, the restless ocean rolling endlessly, and then, through the haze of wind and sunlight, I see it, Dragonstone.
"So I ended up on Dragonstone, huh? Interesting," I mutter.
The fortress rises from the cliffs as if grown from the rock itself, towers thrust upward like teeth, dragon statues perched on every battlement, tiny figures move across the courtyards, then freeze, heads tilting toward the sky, ants beneath us, awe, fear, disbelief etched into every step.
"You see that!" I shout, gripping the spikes tighter. "They look at us like gods, this is real power!"
Then I heard it.
A piercing, echoing roar splits the air, not ours, the dragon stiffens beneath me, muscles tightening, I feel the hunger flare, the thirst for blood.
"Fuck we made to much noise!"
"Easy! Steady now!" I bellow over the wind, forcing my voice through the rush of air to calm the beast.
Above, a scarlet dragon appears, sleek copper, red, wings flashing in the sun, her rider leans forward, dark hair whipping in the wind, she circles us, calculating, only the blood of the dragon can claim dragons, and she has never seen me before, a small child, yet commanding a beast far larger than hers.
I can feel her eyes on me, the way they linger, confusion and curiosity warring in her gaze. She's probably thinking, how is this child riding a dragon this size? who is he? I'm six years old, and yet here I am, riding on the back of a living mountain, I catch the flicker in her expression, shock, disbelief, caution, and I know she's trying to make sense of me just as much as I'm trying to navigate this world.
She points downward toward an open stretch on the island, six years in a pit have taught me to distrust everything, but I glance at my dragon, patient, controlled, hunger simmering but restrained.
Finally, I decide it might be wise to speak with someone I assume belongs to the royal family.
I nod.
"We land, down beast."
The scarlet dragon dives first, landing gracefully, I follow. The descent is brutal, the ground shakes, sand and pebbles scatter, my body jolts.
"We'll need to work on that landing," I shout, brushing dust from my hands, "What if I'd fallen off and died?"
The dragon stretches almost knowingly, letting me slide down his wing. I hit the ground hard, small and unsteady, he settles beside me, his immense body pressing against the earth.
I reach up and run my hands along his neck to his face.
"You need a name, can't just call you beast, but you can be fucking sure you ain't getting a proper one till I get one."
I could give myself a name, but what's the point? I've thought about it, sure, but now I have a dragon, and that changes everything. Deep down, I've always suspected I'm a bastard one of the Targaryen's, maybe another Valyrian house, no doubt. The people in the pits have called me that my whole life, but whose child am I, exactly, that's the question.
When this woman sees me, a small child walking toward her beside a massive dragon, I'll only tell her what she needs to hear, play the part, act a little clueless, draw out a bit of pity, earn some leverage. Who can resist a seemingly innocent child, who does not even have a name? Some might call it cruel, but fuck them, I'll use everything at my disposal to survive in this world. I know bastards aren't treated like trueborn children, but the difference between me and the average bastard? I have a giant fucking dragon at my command.