Chapter 22: Dreamfyre's Flames and the Wedding of Blood and Fire
At the Dragonpit on Rhaenys' Hill, the massive bronze doors groaned open. Captain Delaine led a troop of the Dragonkeepers forward, and behind them emerged the mighty dragon Dreamfyre.
Her wings shimmered pale blue, her scales gleaming like silver in the sunlight, and even her claws and tail shone with a cold azure hue.
Nearby, Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm, gave an eager shriek at the sight of her.
Prince Daemon Targaryen rested an arm around Princess Gael's shoulders.
"Look," he said with quiet pride, "how beautiful she is."
Gael's violet eyes betrayed both awe and fear.
"After Rhaena died more than ten years ago, Dreamfyre had no rider," she murmured. "Will she… accept me?"
"She will," Daemon replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "You are a princess of House Targaryen — Rhaena's kin, with pure Valyrian blood. Dreamfyre will know that."
Gael hesitated. "Perhaps… after our wedding, I could try to ride her."
Daemon frowned. "Delays are dangerous. Don't procrastinate."
At that moment, Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, and his wife Princess Rhaenys Targaryen approached with their children, Laena and Laenor, in tow.
Rhaenys' brows furrowed. "What are you doing, Daemon?"
Daemon smiled faintly. "Gael will tame Dreamfyre and claim her as her mount."
The Sea Snake immediately sensed trouble. "My daughter Laena adores Dreamfyre," he protested. "How can you snatch away a dragon from a child barely four years old?"
Daemon chuckled. "Lord Corlys, you know well that a four-year-old cannot command a dragon. Gael is seventeen — old enough to bond. When Laena reaches that age, she can choose her own. By then, the young dragons in the pit will have matured."
Corlys frowned. "But Laena has always believed Dreamfyre the most beautiful of them all."
Laena tugged at her father's sleeve. "Father, I don't mind. I think Prince Baelon's dragon, Vhagar, is the most beautiful."
Daemon smirked. "You visit the Dragonpit daily, Lord Corlys. One might think you wish to be its master rather than the Master of Ships."
Dreamfyre roared suddenly, hot breath rippling the air. The Dragonkeepers rolled forward a bleeding wild boar carcass, placing it before her.
Daemon turned to Gael. "The first step to taming a dragon is command. Speak in High Valyrian. If the beast obeys your word, mounting her will be far easier."
Corlys, watching her pale, interjected coolly, "Princess Gael, flying is not a game. My wife Rhaenys — the Queen Who Never Was — rode Meleys across the Stormlands, fought at the Field of Fire, and burned Dorne. She was seasoned, yet even she once fell from the skies above Skyreach and was nearly crushed to death."
Daemon's eyes darkened. "And what, exactly, are you implying?"
Corlys folded his arms. "Only offering advice. When young sailors first take to sea, it's wiser to warn them of storms and shipwrecks than to promise treasures."
Princess Rhaenys added softly, "He speaks true. Remember Princess Aerea — Rhaena's daughter. She stole away on Balerion the Black Dread, yet the old dragon did not heed her. She vanished for two years, and when Balerion returned to King's Landing, Aerea died soon after, her body ravaged by some foul curse."
Gael shuddered. "I… I don't want to ride a dragon anymore."
Daemon laid a hand on her shoulder. "They're only trying to frighten you. Look into Dreamfyre's eyes. Command her. Say the word — Dracarys."
Encouraged by him, Gael faced the dragon. She pointed toward the boar carcass and spoke firmly:
"Dracarys."
Dreamfyre twitched her ears, sniffed the girl — then loosed a stream of brilliant blue fire. The boar went up in flames, its meat soon hissing and crisping under the heat.
When the smoke cleared, Dreamfyre began to feast, tearing the charred flesh apart.
Gael gasped in delight and threw her arms around Daemon. "I did it!"
Little Laena and Laenor clapped excitedly, while Rhaenys groaned under her breath and Corlys sighed in frustration.
With the Dragonkeepers' help, Dreamfyre was fitted with a saddle. Confidence blooming, Gael mounted the dragon, and Daemon followed on Caraxes. Together, the two dragons rose into the skies above King's Landing.
Watching from below, Rhaenys murmured, "Viserys and Aemma never took to the skies, yet Daemon and his bride-to-be now both ride dragons."
Corlys's jaw tightened. "Daemon is ambitious — and cunning. He knows he is a second son and will inherit nothing. This is how he builds his own power."
"Do not underestimate him," Rhaenys said gravely. "Once they marry, they will be a pair of dragonriders — like King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne half a century ago."
Above the city, Gael laughed in wild exhilaration. "I never imagined flying could feel so free!"
Daemon grinned beside her. "The world below — King's Landing, the Iron Throne, all of Westeros — lies beneath our wings."
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The Wedding of Blood and Fire
On the day of their wedding, Gael wore an ivory gown cinched at the waist, its bodice adorned with a three-headed dragon of sapphires, garnets, and malachite. Over her shoulders hung a deep red bridal cloak.
Daemon himself wore a dark crimson tunic under a golden mantle.
Maester Barth, the King's Hand, officiated. When vows were spoken, King Jaehaerys placed Gael's hand into Daemon's.
"Daemon," said the king, "may this union make House Targaryen stronger than ever."
Queen Alysanne removed Gael's bridal cloak and smiled gently. "This cloak has graced the shoulders of Visenya, Rhaenys, Rhaena, myself, and Alysanne. May it bless you as well."
Before all the gathered lords, Daemon draped his own cloak upon his bride's shoulders — the mark of his claim.
The Red Keep's great hall overflowed with nobles. Tables groaned under roasted boars, peacock, lark, and honey-glazed lamb. Golden Arbor wine, Dornish plum wine, and fiery Myrish spirits flowed freely.
The bard Diamante sang The Great Conquest while dwarfish jesters, Cabbage and Radish, danced and capered between the tables.
Prince Viserys embraced his brother warmly. "You're married at last. Together we can serve Father and Grandfather — two dragonriders for House Targaryen."
Daemon smiled. "Brother, since Balerion's death, you've yet to take another dragon. Why not claim one anew?"
Viserys shook his head. "Archmaesters say Valyrian blood bonds only once. To take a second mount is unlucky. Dragons have known many riders — but no rider has ever claimed two dragons in a lifetime."
Later, amid laughter and wedding mischief, Daemon's comrades — Raven Greyjoy, Qidan Massey, and Richard Storm — carried Gael into the bridal chamber. When the door shut, Daemon joined her.
He drew her close and whispered, "My dragon Caraxes — the Blood Wyrm — takes his name from the fire worms of Valyria, beasts that burned slaves in the depths of the mines. You, my sweet Gael, are the light of winter. Our child may well be the Song of Ice and Fire."
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