Above Harrenhal, the sky lay heavy with settled gray clouds.
This castle, once scorched by the dragonfire of Balerion the Black Dread, still thrust its highest, blackened Kingspyre Tower toward the heavens. Crows rose and fell among the half-ruined stones, their cries harsh and grating.
Yet at this moment, the sky belonged to living dragons.
Each beat of Vhagar's wings stirred air like a howling gale. This near two-hundred-year-old she-dragon rarely flew at full strength anymore, yet today she seemed to take pleasure in it.
Aemond lay pressed along the base of Vhagar's neck, not seated.
He had not fastened the saddle straps, nor did he even hold the reins.
His legs were spread, straddling the gaps between the great dragon's rough scales, his body clinging tightly to them.
His frame swayed naturally with the rhythm of Vhagar's flight, like a sailor standing upon a pitching deck.
Those violet eyes were half-lidded—not in defiance of the fierce wind, but in enjoyment: enjoyment of the speed, the height, the feeling of hanging his life by a single thread.
Relying solely upon his own flesh and will to sustain that supreme sense of control.
Not far off to the left, Helaena rode Dreamfyre. Dreamfyre's length approached over eighty meters.
The silver-blue she-dragon was half Vhagar's size, her flight lighter and more graceful.
Helaena sat properly within her saddle, every safety strap secured, both hands gripping the reins.
When Dreamfyre passed through a thin bank of cloud, Helaena turned her head toward Aemond—and her eyes widened in alarm.
"Aemond!" Her cry was torn apart by the wind, yet her lips were clear. "Are you mad?!"
Aemond heard her. He turned and gave Helaena a smile. He spread his arms—not for balance, but in a posture as though embracing the sky.
Vhagar seemed to sense her rider's mood and loosed a thunderous roar.
The roar shook the forests below along the shores of the Gods Eye, startling flocks of birds into the air.
And then Aemond did something more reckless still.
He commanded Vhagar to draw nearer to Dreamfyre.
The two dragons had kept a safe distance, but Vhagar began to turn, her immense body carving an arc through the sky as she gradually closed in upon Dreamfyre.
Helaena's heart leapt into her throat.
The two dragons flying so close together in the sky was extremely dangerous—wings could collide, and the turbulent air currents would interfere with one another.
Not to mention that a casual movement from Vhagar could easily overturn Dreamfyre.
"Aemond! Careful!" she screamed.
Vhagar climbed higher, until Vhagar and Dreamfyre flew side by side.
Dreamfyre gave an uneasy hiss, instinctively wishing to pull away from this ancient and powerful mother, but Helaena forced down her fear and soothed the dragon beneath her.
Five meters.
At that distance, Helaena could see every scar left by battle upon Vhagar's scales.
She could feel the scorching breath she exhaled.
She could see Aemond—still not using the reins, relying only on his hands and feet to maintain balance.
Then Aemond crouched.
Not from losing his balance, but in a posture of gathering strength.
"No…" Helaena understood his intention.
He jumped.
Not cautiously, not with hesitation.
It was a full leap—his figure carving an arc through the air, crossing a dizzying height.
Helaena's scream caught in her throat.
Time seemed to slow.
She saw Aemond stretch out his body in midair, saw the wind tear open his cloak.
Then he landed upon Dreamfyre's back.
He landed behind Helaena.
Dreamfyre, the silver-blue dragon, let out an uneasy hiss.
Helaena instinctively seized the reins, and Aemond wrapped his arms around her.
"It's all right! Dreamfyre! It's all right!" she shouted in High Valyrian.
Dreamfyre struggled for a few seconds, then began to calm.
Meanwhile, Vhagar gradually drew farther away, flying alongside Dreamfyre.
Helaena gasped for breath, her heart pounding wildly.
She turned her head and saw Aemond seated just behind her, his hands naturally around her waist, that smile still on his face.
"You…" Helaena's voice trembled. "You're mad… how could you dare…"
"This is merely my usual training," Aemond said lightly. His arms tightened a little, pressing their bodies closer together upon the dragon's back.
"Training?!" Helaena nearly burst into tears. "Without any protection! Without any safety measures!"
"If Dreamfyre had been startled and thrown you off, if Vhagar hadn't kept the distance under control, if—"
"There are no 'ifs,'" Aemond cut her off, resting his chin upon her shoulder, his lips close to her ear.
"I only know that I can do it."
Helaena could not speak.
She felt anger, she felt lingering fear—but at the same time, she also felt a kind of absurd admiration.
Perhaps only Aemond would dare do such a thing.
Only he would treat his life as a wager, the sky as a training ground, and an act nearly suicidal as merely training.
At that moment, Lothorne, drawing closer beside them, let out a hiss.
The small black dragon had been following nearby all along, and now he flew a little closer.
Aemond looked toward Lothorne and made a gesture.
The young dragon immediately understood. He accelerated to Dreamfyre's side and extended a foreclaw—not in a posture of attack, but in a gesture of receiving.
"I'm leaving," Aemond said beside Helaena's ear.
Then he rose again.
This time it was not a jump, but a smooth turn of his body.
With one hand he seized the edge of Dreamfyre's saddle, his body hanging in midair, while the other hand reached toward the claw Lothorne extended.
The black dragon stretched out his claw, and Aemond grasped it firmly.
Aemond hung entirely beneath Lothorne's claw.
Helaena held her breath.
She watched Aemond suspended hundreds of meters above the ground. Beneath his feet lay the Gods Eye; the only thing supporting him was a single claw of Lothorne.
Then Lothorne began to descend slowly.
Not a steep dive, but a steady spiral downward.
Lothorne's altitude gradually lowered.
Helaena guided Dreamfyre downward as well, following the descent.
She forced herself to focus on riding, yet her eyes could never leave that figure hanging beneath the dragon's claw.
At last, Lothorne landed beside the Gods Eye, in a clearing within the forest.
Then Aemond dropped lightly to the ground. He did not even stumble, clearly having practiced this many times before.
Dreamfyre landed shortly afterward.
Helaena climbed down from the dragon's back. The moment her feet touched the ground, she rushed toward Aemond. Her fists struck his chest—not heavily, but full of emotion.
"You're mad! You're absolutely mad!" Her eyes were red.
"How could you dare do such a thing?! If Lothorne hadn't caught you, if Dreamfyre had thrown you off, if—"
"But I did it," Aemond said, grasping her wrist and stopping her blows.
"And this was not the first time. At the Gods Eye, Vhagar, Lothorne, and I have trained many times."
Helaena's eyes widened. "Many times?"
"Since Lothorne became able to carry a rider in flight," Aemond admitted.
"At first it was only short distances, at low altitude."
"Later the difficulty gradually increased."
"Vhagar is too old and not suited for such delicate maneuvering, but Lothorne is very clever and learns quickly."
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