By the time the moon rose, everyone was already tired.
The watching crowds dispersed along the same road they had come by, while the courtiers and dignitaries went to the riverside to dine.
As people left the riding grounds, they discussed today's tournament and tomorrow's main event.
Apart from the knights' jousts, the most spectacular sight had been the flight of the three dragons, circling through the sky.
For the first time since the dawn of the world, a Dragonbond rider and the blood of House Durrandon, the Storm Kings, through the maternal line, had become one, forming a new Dragonlord house.
Gendry had changed into a light black-edged coat patterned with gold, marked with seven pairs of golden quartered shields. Daenerys still wore her purple gown.
Gendry looked up at the black dragon Balerion and the white dragon Viserion above him.
Balerion let out a joyful cry, circling around the Dragonbond rider, "Storm."
The black dragon's leathery wing even brushed Gendry's face. Dragons were willful, yet clever.
The white dragon Viserion wanted to do the same, but when the black dragon gave him a hostile look, the white dragon became much more obedient.
"All right, Balerion, don't bully your little brother all the time." Gendry caught the black dragon by the tail. The dragon's heat was like armor left baking beneath the sun.
Dragons were Fire and Blood. Wherever dragons flew, they brought thick smoke and the smell of sulfur.
"I want all Seven Kingdoms to hear my voice. I want both shores of the Narrow Sea to call my name," Gendry thought as he breathed in the dragon's scent.
This was a new heroic tale. The legend of the Dragonrider Storm would be passed down through the ages. Dragonlord Storm was certain to leave a bold stroke in history.
...
On the north bank of the Blackwater Rush, a temporary wooden platform had been built for the feast, raised some distance above the ground, and the guests were seated in ordered rows.
Six fat, dripping goats and two sturdy aurochs turned slowly on iron roasting spits by the river, while kitchen boys brushed them with sauces and herbs.
Outside the tents, large dining tables and long benches had been set up. Beets, strawberries, and freshly baked bread were piled high on the tables.
However, the lords, noble ladies, and knights had not yet begun to eat. The King and Queen had gone to feed their dragons.
As a matter of courtesy, the guests had to wait for the King.
Besides, they were also eager to feast their eyes on the dragons' hunt. Such a sight was rarer than any delicacy in the world.
Near the river, the Dragonkeepers had already fenced off a sizable area with wooden rails.
Gendry and Daenerys first waited together for the young dragons to eat.
Dragons could eat far more than humans. A dragon could consume several times the daily food of a creature its own size, and they also loved to hunt.
"Click."
The Hound, Sandor Clegane, had the Dragonkeepers open the prepared cages, releasing a panicked flock of goats into the enclosure.
These goats had been delivered recently. They were wild and full of life, but they could not escape the pressure of the food chain.
The guests crowded along the edge of the high platform, watching the dragons hunt.
Even the kitchen boys and knights' servants craned their necks for a stolen glance. Dragons were miracles returned to the world.
"Roar."
The colorful dragons circling in the air became even more active at the arrival of food. They wheeled high into the sky, then folded their wings and came plunging down with a howl.
This was a dragon's favorite tactic. This was how Harren had been turned into roast pork long ago.
The roars of the three dragons shook the wilds, enough to make a hundred lions tremble, let alone goats.
The flock began to run wildly, foam spilling from their mouths. Some goats even froze where they stood.
"Baa, baa, baa."
The bleating of goats rose and then cut off abruptly, one after another, as the dragons' shadows covered them.
The flock did not even reach the edge of the enclosure. The dragons' attack was clean and decisive.
The dragons descended, and all three opened their jaws. Smoke rose, and then came dragonflame.
"Hunt, Balerion."
The black dragon Balerion spat out a spiral of black-red flame, and the goats let out shrill screams. Balerion flew first over a lone goat.
The black dragon snapped one goat's spine, then a second, then a third. The dragon moved quickly, beyond human imagining.
The green dragon Vhagar and the white dragon Viserion also breathed their own flames, revealing different colors of dragonflame.
The green dragon's flame was orange-yellow, faintly threaded with green, while the white dragon's flame was pale gold, touched with red and orange.
The fire shooting from the dragons' mouths was like a spear of flame. A sudden wave of heat swept through, and the goats were scorched black.
The wild dragons burned and killed the flock, then began to eat.
Roose Bolton watched with his own eyes as the black dragon Balerion's black-red flame spiraled down onto a goat's head. With several soft pops, the goat's eyeballs burst like melting jelly.
Balerion cruelly tore away more than half the goat's head. As he swallowed, he breathed fire again, continuing to roast the goat carcass on the ground.
Balerion kept tearing charred mutton free with black teeth as sharp as swords. The grass around him burned as well, and the air filled with thick smoke and the smell of scorched lamb.
Vhagar and Viserion also began eating their prey.
"This is the power of dragons, the power of fire." Roose felt dread and a shiver deep within him.
Roose glanced at the white Direwolf belonging to the Stark bastard below the high platform. The Direwolf seemed restless, scraping at the ground as if trying to get out of the dragons' line of sight.
"Quiet," Jon Snow Stark kept murmuring, soothing his wolf companion.
"The Kraken, Direwolves, and lions once all proclaimed themselves kings, but they were no match for the Dragon house," Roose thought, his conviction hardening.
"Joy at the sight of a dragon." The beautiful and alluring Black Pearl raised her cup, though her hand trembled slightly.
She had seen a hundred rare wonders in the Sealord's menagerie, but none could compare to dragons.
"The people of Braavos never joke about dragons," the Braavos envoy muttered to himself.
Though the dragons were only the size of foals, the power of their flames was already astonishing.
If they grew to the size of woolly mammoths or giants, their flames might melt gold and split stone.
The guests looked again and again. Though they had not gone near the dragons, they seemed to feel the illusion of heat. The closer one came to dragons, the greater that heat became.
The smell of ash, sulfur, and charred meat slowly spread through the air.
The guests imagined themselves as the hunted goats, not the dragons doing the hunting.
"That black dragon truly is ferocious." Great Lord Mace Tyrell wiped the sweat from his brow, still shaken by the vicious-looking dragon, and said to Lord Paxter beside him.
"Indeed, ferocious. People are saying it is the Black Dread reborn," Paxter Redwyne replied in a low voice.
Paxter had been in a poor mood. The two ridiculous Redwyne twins had been far too useless.
But after witnessing the dragon hunt and the Dance of the Dragons, Paxter's spirits improved somewhat.
This was an unprecedented miracle. Tournaments happened every year, but dragons had vanished for more than a hundred and fifty years.
"Are the two of you afraid as well?" the Queen of Thorns asked her twin guards.
Alaric nodded. Warriors might pride themselves on fearing many dangers less than others, but almost everyone feared fire.
"After such a bloody spectacle, I doubt even roast meat will taste good anymore," the Queen of Thorns complained.
Dragons were dragons. Once they were fully grown, dragonfire could turn a knight into roast meat inside a tin can.
The lords of the Stormlands, the Crownlands, and the Riverlands were delighted, while the lords from other regions were caught up in shifting thoughts.
The dragons grew larger by the day, just like the King's authority.
Once the dragons had eaten their fill and grown drowsy, they entered one of their rare quiet moments.
Gendry stroked Balerion's distinctive horn. The black dragon was now the size of a medium foal, gazing at Gendry with molten-red eyes.
Among the three dragons, the black dragon was the tallest, fiercest, and wildest. The green dragon and the white dragon were less dangerous than he was.
The black dragon had a proud and solitary heart. Only the strong could command him well, and dragon taming had to begin early.
"Grace, coldness, power." Margaery looked at Gendry. This was the power of a Dragonlord and a King.
"Good lad." Gendry looked at the black dragon. Balerion was exceptionally calm only in his hands.
Even a dragon like this could be moved about by Gendry with ease.
It was not only because of Gendry's divine Bloodline, but also because a dragon's body was mostly neck, tail, and wings, making it lighter than it looked.
Gendry felt that a dragon's body had a unique mechanical structure. Lightweight Dragonbone and huge leathery wings allowed dragons to fly, much like a special kind of bird.
"It still needs more fire, more tempering," Gendry thought.
By next year, the 300th year after the Conquest, the black dragon would at least grow to a wingspan of twenty feet, about 6.096 meters, with a body length of six or seven feet.
Now that they had the fire and heat of Dragonstone instead of Slaver's Bay, Balerion and the others would grow even faster.
But even then, the black dragon still would not be able to carry Gendry. It could only carry Daenerys, and would have to grow larger still.
Gendry and Daenerys brought the dragons back to the King's great tent.
The Hound, Sandor Clegane, also rose and left with the Dragonkeepers.
The Hound's strength was already terrifying, not to mention the open and hidden safeguards Gendry had arranged.
Once the King and Queen returned, the feast and revelry began.
Food and wine were served, and the lords and guests laughed and talked merrily.
Servants poured wine without pause, and no cup ever ran dry.
The guests swarmed around the young royal couple like flies.
"With such fierce dragons and such military strength, we need only go deep into their caves and cut off the heads of the lions and Kraken," Mace declared grandly. "Glory belongs only to King Gendry."
Mace was speaking of two kings: Tommen and the King of the Iron Islands.
"In fact, there is still one more king," Eddard Stark reminded him.
"The King-Beyond-the-Wall?" Great Lord Stannis Baratheon asked.
"That's him." Eddard nodded.
The North and the Riverlands had been plagued by this endless cycle of war. The Riverlands had been ravaged by the war brought by the lions, while The North faced the double pressure of the Kraken and the wildlings.
"But the wildlings have few horses and few weapons, and there is still the great Wall," Prince Oberyn said. He was seated on the other side, far from the lords of The Reach.
"That is true, Prince. But what is frightening is not the King-Beyond-the-Wall, but the White Walkers and wights behind him, the so-called Children of the Long Night," Eddard said quietly. "Lord Commander Geralt's expedition is meaningful, but I fear he will not bring news back to us."
The Old Bear's all-in gamble was destined to be a road with no return.
...
On the Anatomy of Dragons
The first point concerns a dragon's body proportions.
According to the original text, the ratio of body length to wingspan is 1:3.
The second point concerns a dragon's weight.
Most of a dragon's body consists of neck, wings, and tail, and Dragonbone is light.
The book makes it clear that dragons are lighter than other animals of the same size, which is why they can fly.
So I think there is no problem with a divine-strength character carrying a dragon the size of a small foal, especially when that dragon weighs less than a foal.
The third point concerns dragon colors and dragonfire.
A dragon's colors and its fire are like those of dinosaurs. They are colorful animals, not creatures of a single color.
Dragonfire also seems to be connected to the dragon's own color, almost matching it exactly.
The fourth point concerns dragon growth.
In the original work, dragons have a bit of a magical cheat and grow extremely quickly.
In just over a year, before the end of the year, the black dragon had already reached a wingspan of twenty feet, while the other dragons were as large as foals, and that was with the dragons wandering around Slaver's Bay.
Here, with the suitable volcanic environment of Dragonstone and the help of Pyromancers, I think it is a reasonable inference that the dragons would grow even faster than they did originally.
The fifth point concerns dragon taming.
The black dragon is the wildest and fiercest.
I believe black dragons are more compatible with the Feral Bloodline and strength-type Pyromancers, making them easier to tame and ride.
Another point is that in the original work, Daenerys spent a great deal of time on political struggles, rule, and administration. She could not spend much time with her dragons, which was also one reason the dragons later went out of control so quickly.
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