Orys Targaryen/Jon Snow
Castle Black – Outside the Walls.
He held Shireen's hands as they walked across the courtyard. "Open the gate," he ordered, and the gates opened. "You ready?" he asked Shireen.
"Yes," Shireen replied. Both looked at the place as they walked out, the place that had forever changed his life.
"They're still there," he murmured as they walked out onto the fields beyond Castle Black. In the morning sun, the dragons looked even more massive, and now he could see that the black dragon was larger than Silverwing. The black dragon's name escaped him, so he questioned Shireen. "Tell me, do you know the name of the black dragon? I know the silver one is Silverwing, but the name of the black dragon escapes me."
"Mmm, I'm pretty sure the black dragon is the Cannibal. The dragon ate Ser Denys and his sons after they tried to claim Sheepstealer yet failed, so they tried their luck with the Cannibal, but they were all burned alive," Shireen answered.
She will be a treasure. He had read quite a lot when he was younger, but it seemed Shireen would be a true help with her knowledge.
"Ah, I remember. The Cannibal was infamous for eating other dragons and dragon eggs. Although I think it's time for a new name. I doubt he'll be eating other dragons again," he said with a smile, which caused the Cannibal to let out a small growl.
As they came closer, the dragons began to rouse with a rumble. He silently lamented never being able to learn the tongue of his true father's house. It was one of the lessons he never got when he was in Winterfell. Because you were a bastard, a voice inside his head said.
"So, any words to use with them? I never had lessons in High Valyrian when I was young," he asked Shireen, who smiled at him.
"Well, I know some High Valyrian commands. Like lykiri is calm, soves is fly, dohaeras is serve, and dracarys is dragonfire, I believe. But we'll work on your High Valyrian together. It won't do for a Targaryen to not speak the tongue of his ancestors," Shireen answered, smiling and squeezing his hand.
"We shall, and thank you," he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Well, let's see if we can call ourselves dragonriders after today," he said, stepping aside from Shireen and walking toward the Cannibal. His stomach was in knots as he walked closer, if the Cannibal wanted to, he would eat him in one bite.
The dragon's mouth opened and closed, its teeth black as its scales, gleaming like longswords, and thrice as thick, if not thicker.
He realized he now truly saw the dragon for the first time. When he walked out of the flames, he hadn't registered much. The Cannibal looked massive, his scales thick, with some uneven patterns, likely places where scars lay beneath. Its horns were not straight but curled at the ends, making him look different from the straight backed horns of Silverwing.
Its feet were as large as a horse's length, if not more, and its wings, black with shagged edges, he suspected could span the width of Castle Black.
He took a step closer and felt that familiar tug, the connection. Was this a warg thing? For a second, he slipped into the dragon's mind. The dragon let him in, and he found it very different from Ghost. He saw himself standing there through big green eyes, and he suddenly felt terribly small.
He snapped out of the connection, both he and the Cannibal shaking their heads.
The dragon growled, and he took a deep breath and said, "Lykiri."
"Lykiri," he repeated as he walked even closer. The dragon sniffed him loudly. "Dohaeras," he said again. The dragon roared at him, and it took all his willpower not to step away.
No, I need a name for him, not the Cannibal.
He looked at him. In the night, he would be almost invisible.
Then the name came to him. "Dohaeras, Nightwing."
He felt that familiar connection again, and he sensed approval.
The dragon roared again, but now lowered its head and looked at him with green eyes. "Good, Nightwing. Dohaeras," he muttered as he placed a steady hand on the giant black snout, his hand a tiny speck upon it.
He felt the connection grow stronger, and he knew the bond was made, yet in the back of his mind he felt something, Nightwing's urge to go flying. "We will."
Nightwing let out a satisfied rumble.
He then looked toward Shireen, and it seemed his suspicions were right. Silverwing had lowered her head to the kind hearted and wonderful Shireen Baratheon.
"Well done, Shireen," he called to her as Shireen laid her hand on Silverwing's snout.
"You too. Do you feel that as well? That connection with them?" Shireen responded.
"Let's fly, Shireen, although I'm kind of jealous. Your dragon is used to people flying upon its back."
Shireen laughed, and Nightwing gave an indignant growl.
"Okay then, prove me wrong," he said with a smirk, and Nightwing puffed out smoke and lowered its back.
He took a deep breath and climbed onto the dragon, which was quite the hassle, yet the scales gave him enough purchase to make the climb, which was around ten meters until he reached the shoulders of the Cannibal and found a comfortable enough seating place. He grabbed the spikes on its back and looked back at Shireen, her excitement evident as she mounted Silverwing with careful steps.
"Ready?" he called out to her after he saw her take a seat.
"Let's do this," he murmured to Nightwing, who huffed and shifted beneath him. He could feel the raw strength in Nightwing's muscles and the beating of its heart. Power, he thought. Sheer power.
Shireen gave him a nod, her eyes wide with awe as she looked down at the massive beast beneath her. "Ready as I'll ever be," she said, her voice steady but full of wonder.
"All right," he murmured, his heart racing. "Soves," he commanded.
Nightwing let out a deep rumble before spreading its massive wings. For a moment, he thought the dragon wouldn't listen, but then, with a powerful leap, Nightwing launched into the sky, his wings beating against the cold northern air.
Silverwing wasn't far behind, taking off with a grace that contrasted Nightwing's raw power. Shireen let out a gasp of exhilaration as Silverwing lifted her high above the frozen landscape. "This... this is incredible!" she called out, her voice carried away by the wind.
"Indeed it is," he called back.
He leaned into Nightwing's movements, gripping the spines on his back as tightly as he could. Damn, no wonder they had saddles, he thought, as they soared higher and higher. The world below shrank, and the vast wilderness of the North stretched out beneath them. He could see everything, the trees, the frozen lakes, the endless expanse of white beyond the Wall.
He felt the rush of the wind, the strength of the dragon beneath him, and for a moment, he forgot everything, the battles, the hardships, the loss. Up here, he was free. Up here, he was one with the skies.
Shireen flew beside him, her hair whipping wildly around her face, her cheeks flushed with joy. She looked over at him and smiled, her eyes bright. "We're really doing it!" she shouted, barely able to contain her excitement.
"Yes, the first dragon flight in Westeros in over 150 years," he replied, smiling.
He grinned back, but as they approached the Wall, something strange happened. Nightwing slowed, his wings beating less enthusiastically, as if an invisible barrier had come between them and the Wall. He felt it too, a strange pressure in the air, a force that kept them from going any farther.
Nightwing growled low in his throat, clearly frustrated. He tried to push forward, but the air itself seemed to resist him. "It's the Wall," he muttered to himself.
"Shireen!" he called out, turning to her. "They can't cross!"
Shireen looked back, her joy momentarily replaced by confusion. Silverwing also seemed reluctant, flapping her wings but unable to push through the barrier. "What do we do?" she asked.
"We turn back," he said.
He didn't know how, but the dragon seemed to understand his thoughts as Nightwing began to turn away from the Wall. Shireen followed suit, and together they began to descend. The exhilaration still pulsed through him as they began to land.
As they neared the ground, Nightwing let out a soft rumble, almost in protest of their descent. He couldn't help but chuckle. "We will fly more, Nightwing," he said, sensing the dragon's discontent at stopping their flight.
Shireen landed gracefully beside him, her face flushed with excitement. "That was... that was beyond anything I imagined."
He dismounted and walked over to her, embracing her. "That was amazing," he said after they broke apart.
"Truly amazing, and we're dragonriders, Aemon," Shireen whispered, a smile spreading across her face.
He nodded. "Yes, we are." He took her in his arms, holding her close. "May I kiss you again?"
Shireen's eyes widened, and she nodded. His lips found hers, and that same hunger returned. He didn't know what it was, but something about it made his blood roar. His tongue found hers, and they battled, and for a moment it was only them.
After that, they broke apart, both looking at each other with widened eyes. "Well, you can do that more often," Shireen muttered shyly.
He let out a quiet breath, something between a laugh and disbelief. "As my princess commands," he replied, a faint grin forming.
This time, when he kissed her again, it was lighter, almost playful, yet no less meaningful.
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