Chapter Eleven: I Got That Fire, Fire! I Got That Fire In My Lizard!
I hated logical fallacies, they tend to screw people over.
The very worst one was that damned 'sunk cost' fallacy, which makes our stubborn human brains think 'well I've already come this far, can't stop now'.
For example, I had somehow talked my way up a freaking volcano, to go looking for dragons, to try to tame one, at night, on a long slick path, alone and top it all off I was four! Almost every bone in my body was screaming at me to get my ass back to the castle and dismiss the whole plan otion from my fool head, yet every step was forward.
I could not turn back, it was not just fear driving me.
If I turned back, I would never have a dragon, if I let my nerve fail me then it would break again every single damned time I tried.
I knew myself well enough to know that for certain.
"No turning back Gaemon," I muttered to myself as I pulled a waterskin from my satchel and took a long drink before continuing up. "It can't get any worse at least."
Not five minutes later, it started raining.
It turned out that the gods must have a pretty good sense of humor because they seemed to be laughing themselves to tears. It brought a sort of tired chuckle to my lips as I continue up the now even slicker path.
"What a day," I mutter with an increasingly deranged smile. "What a lovely day."
It did not take me long to make it into that really nice high you hit when you push yourself enough, that revitalizing feeling that you can do anything.
Which was great considering I was about to do something beyond stupid.
Well it was not that stupid; a curious little fact that was only hinted at in the books was that Valyrian children enjoyed a greater protection from dragons than grown Valyrians whom were themselves about the only type of men that wild dragons did not typically attack for the lolz.
It stood to reason given how many examples were in the books of seven-year-olds and such claiming dragons and the instant bonds that formed when a dragon hatched in a crib. I was actually safer at that moment than I ever would be from the predations of wild dragons (as long as I did not actively piss them off).
Of course, that was provided that I did not somehow have more Hightower blood in me than all of my siblings and got eaten in a bite by the first dragon that saw me.
Which presented its own problems since a botched bonding was one hundred and ten percent guaranteed to piss a dragon off.
I did not like my chances against a dragon of any size, even if I was aiming for a small one since I really did not want to gamble on my being the only Targaryen other than Dany to gain the [+500 Fire Resistance] buff.
Predictably enough, I was distracted enough that I slipped and fell on my face.
"Hello floor," I muttered as I pulled myself up.
Maybe I should have worried more about making it to the hatchery before thinking so much about what I would do while I was up there. My physical age presented a bigger challenge on the climb than any other part of the whole venture..
At least the cloak and thick clothing had proven to be a good idea, they kept me dry(ish) and warm(ish) in the rain despite its continued downpour.
It was a sweet, sweet relief when I arrived at a warm vent, the mountain was littered with them as one might expect from a volcano.
I decided that a break would not hurt given that my body felt like it was on fire, since that might not be a metaphor a few hours later, I wanted to rest a bit.
I sat down and reached into my satchel while cursing my sore feet. No amount of exercise countered the fact that I was four and as such a body had its limits regrettably.
I pulled out a small ball of dried jerky and a small 'map.' The thing that had always irked me in my studies was the lack of accurate maps (they made actually ancient maps of my world seem accurate by comparison) so my 'map' was more like a list of collected directions from the servants.
As I bit into the tough meat and looked at over the damned map I came to something of a realization, I'm already lost! Freaking lovely!
I cursed as I pulled out a piece of chalk from my satchel (no way in hell I would bring a quill) and tried to write the path I had come on into the sheet.
That went about as well as you would expect.
"Damn it," I cursed as I put aside the meat and the map and hauled myself up.
I walked over the mountainside and thanked whatever god liked to mock my existence for the stony nature of the mountain. With little choice, I jumped up and started to scratch directions into the rock, I had a good memory so it was surprisingly easy to write it all down, now if only those damned servants had actually given me some precise directions.
If I had been a little less focused on patting myself on the back then I might have not stopped paying attention to my surroundings.
"Well that is good enough," I said with a bit of pride as I looked over the white on black instructions. "Now if the rain does not wash this away, and I don't die, I should be golden!"
I turned around and my heart froze.
"D-d-dr-dragon!" I yelped as I pushed myself against the wall in the hope that I could suddenly sink into it.
The small creature had clearly already finished off the ball of meat and currently seemed to be amusing itself by pocking at the satchel with its tail as if to try and figure out how it worked. I had left a damned ball of meat out in the open on a volcano infested with carnivorous creatures… maybe I was suicidal?
Probably just stupid.
The dragon noticed my attention and turned its pale blue head to looked up at me with eyes of deep silver-blue.
I took a deep breath.
Alright focus, you need to do this right. You are going to die if you mess this up. Get this right because otherwise you are going to be murdered by something the size of a bloody schnauzer, not the best way to die….
Although if it eats me then at least there will be no evidence at least, I admitted internally.
My mind was scrambling over my notes at the speed of a damned supercomputer, self-preservation was a damned remarkable thing.
I began going over the four key rules of dragon-taming.
Alright first rule, do not show fear. I forced myself to control my breathing and to straighten my posture, putting a single foot forward while forcing my heart to even out in its beating, it still sounded like it was auditioning for bongos but what can be done.
The young dragon tilted its head at me while emanating a calm hiss.
No fire, good. No fire is good.
Second rule, be confident and take a position of dominance… I still had not clue what the hell that meant so I decided to wing it.
I walked forward a handful of few more steps and let out the closest thing to growl I could, I felt ridiculous but there was precedent for it… if that song had been literal.
Oh god, I was going off of songs.
I am sogoing to die.
The dragon did not react aside from flicking its tail and giving me a strange look. Lizards did not really have faces suited for an emotional range but something deep inside told me that it was giving me the closest thing to an unimpressed look that it could manage.
Rule three, know the dragon in question. One of the main concerns for the ancient Valyrians was evaluating and tracking as many dragons as they could, dragons were tamed not on the whims of the rider but based on a careful selection by the heads of a Great House based on what was known about the dragon's preferences and personality.
Incidentally this was why Valyrians were willing to let their very young children close to a massive wild dragon but were typically loathed to try and time wild hatchlings, on a societal level they were actually rather averse to dealing with unknowns for all of their power.
I did not have the luxury of caution so I had to rapidly compile what little I had seen of the hatchling.
For one thing, it did not seem particularly aggressive as a foul tempered dragon or particularly aggressive dragon was perfectly willing to attack Valyrians and its own kind for no reason if it figured that it could win.
My still being alive at that point suggested that it was not an aggressive sort.
It also seemed to have been more interested in the satchel than capitalizing on the opportunity to either engage me or retreat. That told me that for one thing my Hightower blood had not been sufficient to strip me of protection from the creatures which was again a solid win if I did not die horribly in the following heartbeats.
It also told me that this dragon was a curious sort and smart enough to take an interest in things that it was not familiar with.
All good points except for the last rule.
Rule Four, there is no set procedure for how a successful bond is formed. The methods by which a dragon becomes bonded to a rider varies wildly and everyone in my dreams, records and family had a different story as to how they managed it.
It ranged from the slightly more common 'it did not kill me when I mounted it' (which was hardly viable right now) to 'I punched it in the face' (Daemon, dick or not that guy was a badass) to the dragon just deciding it liked you and moving to sit next to you (Rhaenyra).
Given what I needed it for, I decided to go with the method that Gaema had used according to her recollections.
I slowly circled the dragon as it moved to keep a pace with me, never once breaking eye contact. If I failed, then I would be super-doomed since it was easily one of the stupidest thing that one could do so close to a dragon.
Almost up there with looking for a dragon when you were four.
I slowly bent down and rummaged one hand in the satchel before I found what I needed.
"Easy now," I uttered before pulling out the offending object. The blue-grey orbs shifted momentarily to it before looking back to me.
I carefully pulled my hands together and drew it out of its sheath before easing myself to one knee to stare at the creature from eye level. My breathing evened up as I focused on the moment that would decide my life.
I extended my right hand forward before the dragon which had begun to move slowly towards me before stopping just a foot or two away which meant it was within lunging range.
"I hope you don't kill me," I muttered.
Arguably the most honest words I would ever spay.
I sucked in a breath a dragged the hunting knife across my open palm. I forced my eyes to stay open and not break contact as I bit back the urge to scream like the small child that I was.
"Here," I hissed as I offered my bleeding palm to the dragon that would likely kill me in a moment or two.
The dragon hissed slowly as it smelled the fresh blood and its tail beat to its side as it raised itself up and snaked forward until its head reached my hand and passed its long scaled tongue across the wound. I tried to keep the discomfort from showing on my face.
Not once breaking eye contact as its raked across my wound, my discomfort limited to cursing my own weakness.
Finally, it raised its head and stared eye to eye with no more than an inch between me and several rows of teeth. Expelling smoke on to my face as it did so.
Finally it closed its eyes and eased its head onto my hand. I felt all the tension drain from my body at that very moment.
"I guess you are not going to kill me then," I chuckled as I suddenly felt-bone tired.
…
"That should do it," I smiled through grit teeth as I carefully pulled the strip of cloak from over the scolding heat of the vent wrap it had around my injured hand. I hissed once more from the fresh pain as it seared my flesh.
I had little choice if I wanted to avoid infection.
The dragon curled up at my side looked up at me with a curious tilt of the head.
"Don't worry about it," I grinned through the pain as I scratch the softspot behind the little white horns, a spot most dragons found pleasurable if Syrax was a fair judge. "I'd rather a small cut than getting roasted."
It had been a few hours since our little agreement had been reached and I finally felt good and ready to get a move on before a bigger beast ate us both.
"Come on then," I muttered as I pulled myself up and threw on my satchel. "Time to go show you off."
The little dragon uncurled itself and crawled along with me as I began to make my descent before launching itself a meter or two in the air. It lazily did circles around me as we made our way down.
"I guess you will be needing a name," I couldn't seem to stop smiling. I felt strangely grateful to be alive at that moment.
What the heck do I call the little dragon? I asked myself.
I supposed that I would need to figure out its sex first. Dragon could assume a different sex if it suited them, but they tended to remain with the same ones as they were born with unless needed.
"I guess that I can't check," I mused to myself. "That would be a quick way to get rid of any good will on your part…"
Hmm… maybe a gender-neutral name? Actually…
"Screw it you're a girl, there are not enough famous female dragons!" I joked, although I hoped that 'she' could remain as minor as dragons could be. Glory often came at the cost of death, and death did not suit me. "But what to call you?"
I looked over the young creature. She was pale blue like a cloudless sky with a white underbelly of glimmering scales, claws and horns like snow, she actually looked a lot like a single cloud on an otherwise clear day.
She also seemed to glide around me with as easy a grace as I had ever seen on a dragon, almost as if to show off how fine an acquisition she was.
"Hmm… how about Clearsky? It sounds sort of tacky but…" I gave it only a moment's thought before I shrugged it off. "Eh, I like it. I can even call you 'Sky' for short."
The Clearsky looked at me as she glided about and I could swear I heard her snort.
"It's either that or Fluffles," Yap, it was a growl that time.
"Clearsky it is then!" I laugh.
It was a little bit before I finally ran into a group of men-at-arms led by none other than my bull.
They stopped in their tracks up the steps as Clearsky dropped to the ground in front of me, growling protectively.
"Prince Gaemon!" The tall bull shouted with a genuine smile on his face, that was a first. Then again, he was screwed if I had died so it was understandable. "You were successful!"
I step forward and pat Sky reassuringly, "Indeed Ebermen, I'd like to introduce you to Clearsky."
He made a slightly pained expression at my choice of name but quickly crushed it behind his expression of relief as he turned to the other men.
"You!" He pointed to the lankiest of the dozen men. "Report back immediately that the prince is safe!"
"And leave out my Sky if you would," I add with my usual bright smile. "I want to surprise them."
"Y-yes milord," the boy (heh, he was at least fourteen years my body's senior at the time) answered quickly before launching himself down the path.
"Right, Men!" the bull bellowed. "Gather around the prince and let us see him back to the king safely!"
The men were not as unflappable as my guard, they gave sky a wide berth which dragon did not mind as it stayed close to me, crawling instead of taking flight as if to ensure I was at arm's (wing's?) length. I took advantage of their separation to get an update.
"How did it go?" I whispered to my shield.
"Not well," he whispered back. "The queen wants my head as is her right."
Well that was to be expected, I would have to mitigate that to the best of my abilities since I had no intention of rewarding cooperation with death. "And the king?"
The Bulwer was slow to respond, "He… he was quite concerned."
"You are a bad liar Ebermen," I knew that on a good day I was an inconvenience, best kept away from the king's leisurely life of resolute ignorance and hedonism, he would probably not be too bothered to have turn into Dragon-Chow. "It is for the best that way, should contain the uproar."
"I would not be so certain," the bull added cautiously. "As we departed the castle it seemed as if something had stirred everyone in the apartments to frantic action, I would think it was your absence save for my having already departed along with the other teams sent to find you."
That was… unexpected. If only Alicent was angry then it would be of little to no concern, she could be managed as long as I avoided pushing her too far for a time and gave a sufficiently heartfelt apology.
I wondered how everyone else was reacting.
"And what did my sister have to say about all of this?" I queried, I felt a tad bit… disappointed that her reaction was not mentioned.
Bulwer shrugged slightly enough that some of the men might have assumed that he was just rolling them, "She had yet to be roused when I departed, understandably it was dubbed an urgent matter."
"Of course," I passed one hand down Sky's neck. I surprised me how quickly I felt the bond growing, I'd known the creature for a few hours and I already felt a strangely close bond with it.
I had not expected it to happen so quickly.
Bulwer eyed Sky before snorting, "I had thought that you would prefer looking for a larger beast."
"She picked me," I answered solemnly. More specifically she chose my meat…
Bad choice of words, thank the gods that I did not say it out loud.
"As you say," he answered as was his custom.
As the castle became visible I saw that we were being expected.
Sure, enough the Hand was waiting for us at the gate.
Why was it that I always had Strong to deal with whenever things went sideways? The man was difficult to deal with and was by far the most suspicious of me.
Since cuteness would be off little help, I opted to go with audacity.
"Lord Strong!" I smiled. "Beautiful night, is it not? I could not help but go for a walk!"
He gave me a cold look for a moment, whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the most glorious sound I had ever heard as he caught sight of the dragon.
"I am not familiar with this word my lord," I tilt my head. "What does 'Eep' mean Lord Strong?"
The Hand cleared his throat, "It is nothing, my prince. I was merely surprised to see that you have acquired a…"
I had never actually managed to break the man's nerve before.
"Dragon?" I smiled wider while scratching Sky's head, the little she-dragon softly exhaled smoke as if to confirm her identity while starring intently at the Hand.
"This is Clearsky," The Strong's confusion almost immediately evaporated as he raised a brow, seemingly reassured by his opinion of my choice in name.
YOU try naming a dragon! Had the man been Criston Cole I would have put the phonetics of his family name to the test.
My smile wavered but I clung to my audacity. "I can't wait to show him to mother and the king."
"That might have to wait, my prince," Lord Strong said before looking up at Bulwer (I often forgot how massive my Shield was, most everyone seemed titanic from my vantage point). "See that the prince is returned to his room for now."
"Why?" I asked but the Hand was already turning away.
"Lord Strong!" I repeated myself.
"We will speak later my prince-," Strong began to say before Sky reacted to my rising agitation.
The young dragon hissed and let out another small puff of smoke, her lips peeling back a touch this time to reveal the glimmering white fangs beneath.
"What. Is. Happening. My Lord Hand," I asked through grit teeth. I was tired, but something was happening, something bad enough that my vanishing and subsequent return with a dragon had become a secondary concern.
The Lord Hand eyed me for a moment before saying two words, "Your uncle."
I was not sure whether the hiss was me, Clearsky or both of us.