The clash of steel rung across the field. A young Targaryen surged forward, like the waves of a maelstrom clashing against the might of the brave sailor. The waves pulled back, welcoming the brave soldier forward, only to overpower him with one giant wave, before devouring him with another.
"I yield!" said the brave sailor.
The buzz and murmurs of the men around him returned to him as he broke focus. The world simply went from the turbulent seas that he controlled to the training field he was simply a part of. The brave sailor, his brother who had the same hair as he but deeper eyes, was on the ground. His sword was thrown to the side and he was bleeding from the back of his hand. Nothing serious, a somewhat deep scratch.
"I thought these were blunted swords," the young Targaryen said.
"They are" his brother replied, "your swings are powerful and fast enough to make them deadly" he added with a grin.
The younger male snorted and held his hand out for his brother.
Aegon Targaryen took the hand of his brother Aenar Targaryen and stood. Both brothers moved away to allow other people to use the battlefield.
House Targaryen of Dragonstone was a smaller family compared to other families of Westeros, consisting of only an island citadel and its villages. They did not house many men there, possibly around five hundred or so combined. What set them apart and made them a family to fear were their dragons.
Aenar stood to the side and only paid half attention to his surroundings. The people were buzzing, whispering and gossiping not about the fights going on now but the one from before, the one between brothers.
At nine Aenar outclassed everyone on Dragonstone with a sword. He was small, lean and quick on his feet. He was fast and found weak points easily. He knew how to attack to put an opponent off balance, and knew how to take advantage of the situations he created to win every time. There was a reason he was almost unbeatable in Dragonstone.
Visenya won over him every time without fail.
The training was done and Aenar chose to leave. Aegon called for him, inviting him to go with him. But Aenar smiled and declined the offer. He would need to unwind, and he liked to unwind on his own.
The adrenaline still pumping through him pushed him to climb to the top of the Windwyrm, the tallest tower and lookout of Dragonstone. It was shaped like a dragon which seemed to scream in defiance. Aenar climbed to the top before climbing out through one of the windows and scaling to the top from the outside. On top of the tower, it felt like Aenar was sitting on the head of a dragon. Something his siblings did often but he didn't.
Aenar did not have a dragon of his own.
It was one of the many differences between him and his siblings.
Aenar was born ten years after Rhaenys was born, a surprise child that nobody planned. His hair was paler than the others, as were his eyes. His mother almost died birthing him and took many months to recover. Rhaenys was fond of saying that she played the role of a mother in those months, always checking in on him through the night and playing with him. Which may have been why she treated him both like a son and a brother most of the time. It was a hassle, having two mothers always on your back about everything. But not a hassle that Aenar cursed. No, he quite enjoyed it, if he was being honest. He liked the attention he got.
The wind picked up and Aenar gripped the 'horn' of the 'dragon'. A dragon flew over him, black as coal. Most would guess it was Balerion, but Aenar knew better. He'd seen Balerion up close and from a distance too many times to mistake him for a dragon with no sheen.
No, that was the wild dragon, Cannibal, equally as black but not one that shone when the sun hit its scales. It was headed to the Dragonmont… No, it was going beyond it. The Cannibal made its home on one of the vents that opened up towards the sea, many fishermen had seen it rest there. The dragon did not come with the Targaryens when they crossed the sea from Valyria, nobody knows where it came from. Some say it was born here, but not from the brood of Targaryen dragons. No, it was here when the Targaryens arrived, and it had hated them ever since. Perhance they had invaded the dragon's territory, or maybe it was simpler and the Cannibal was a descendant of a rival faction of Valyria. There were two scores of Dragon families in Valyria before its doom and Dragonstone was the Westernmost Valyrian outpost. Maybe those who were stuck in this place for a long time had dragons and they were the ones to lay the egg of the Cannibal. Whatever may the reason be, the Cannibal was wild and hated Targaryens.
A bath always followed Aenar's winding down and soon after he would join for lunch. Today was no different.
There were five others in the Targaryen family other than Aenar. His father and mother, Lord Aerion Targaryen and Lady Velaena Targaryen. Then there were his three siblings. Visenya was the oldest, followed by Aegon and then Rhaenys. The three were married to one another, a rarity but not unheard of in Valyrin customs. Most whispered that Aegon married Visenya out of duty and Rhaenys out of love, only half the truth. Aegon loved both sisters equally and simply couldn't choose.
"I hear you cut your brother today" Lord Aerion spoke. He cut into his chicken and chewed it slowly before swallowing.
"I did" Aenar agreed, taking a bite of his food as well.
The table grew tense as father and son spoke. The two were not as close as Aegon was to their father. Aerion favoured his oldest and spoiled him to a degree, put his opinions and necessities above his other children and would not stand an insult to his name.
The cut on the hand was just that.
"Why?" the father asked.
"You may wish to your Master at Ar,s about that" Aenar replied, "if the swing of a nine-year-old could cut someone, the swords were not dull or blunted enough."
"Father I have spoken to Ser Quenton and he's seeing to it that no such swords ever join the training field again."
Aego had not spoken to the Knight and Aenar knew it. But their father did not and the man hummed, passing over the topic entirely.
Conversation died there and everyone focused solely on their food. And after they all went their respective ways.
Sunrise found him bent over a book, devouring the words in the text. The more he read the more he wished to continue, and the more he continued the more invested he grew in the book.
"You should be asleep, brother."
Aenar raised his head and found Visenya at the door, still dressed in her sleeping gown.
"As should you" Aenar replied before going back to his book.
He didn't hear her footsteps but heard the scrapping of wood on stone before the wood groaned. Visenya drew attention to herself no matter the training grounds or a ball, but she was also light on her feet and could easily approach anyone without notice.
"And what might you be reading at this hour?" the woman asked.
"The same one you'd caught me reading three nights ago. Books of this volume, they are not finished in one night, sister."
"So am I to think you've stayed up every night since then to read?"
"I choose to not comment on that."
Visenya chuckled and Aenar smiled.
"How are you doing?" she asks.
"I am… just as I was the last time we spoke."
"The last time we spoke, Father did not try to berate you."
Aenar marked the page he was on before closing the book gently. It was an older book and he needed to be careful with its pages, lest the book be ruined.
"It is not the first time Father has berated me" Aenar turned to his sister, his eyes distant. "I injured Aegon, and father does not like when his precious heir is injured. Even if I am better than Aegon with a sword and he refuses to see it" Aenar drew in a breath and exhaled. "I love my brother dearly but I can't stand the favouritism."
"Father will see your worth soon, brother. Perhaps once you claim a dragon he'd start seeing it."
" I think you mean 'if' I claim a dragon," Aenar raised a brow. "There were many Targaryens who had no dragons before me. I might be like them."
"And you believe that?" Visenya asked.
"I believe it is time I retire. I'm sure I'll be woken in a few hours to join the sparring grounds. Pray I don't cut our brother again and incur Father's wrath."
With a tight smile, Aenar exited the library, leaving a very worried Visenya behind.
This morning was different from the rest. For one, nobody was sparring in the training grounds. And for good reasons too. Daemon Velaryon had come to visit. House Velaryon was one of three other houses to have come to Westeros Pre-Doom and together with the other three controlled the trade on the Blackwater. House Velaryon and Targaryen were also connected through marriage, the current Lady of Dragonstone being a Velaryon herself. They were cousins.
Lord Daemon Velaryon and Aegon were good friends, but unlike Aegon, he already had two children, Aethan and Corlys who were closer in age to Aenar. So the three were good friends.
"Is it true that you defeated your brother in a spar?" Corlys asked.
"That's nothing new. I come out on top most of the time" Aenar boasted with a grin, a genuine one at that.
"Now if only you had a dragon, you'd be above Aegon" Aethan sighed, before quickly making a recovery when he saw Aenar's face fall. Aenar shook his head and smiled to reassure him.
"Maybe we can go to the Dragonmont and help you claim on" Corlys suggested.
Aenar denied the help but Corlys insisted. The younger boy was always good at convincing others, and Aenar was no different from the others.
The three went to the Dragonmont together, the Velaryon boys excited to see some dragons. House Velaryon may have been Valyrians, but they were no Dragonriders. So any chance they got, the boys loved to see Dragons.
Balerion and Meraxes were curled up together when they got there, Vhagar off to the side eating. All three dragons raised their heads when they saw the three boys passing by, but did not do anything.
"A new batch just hatched from Meraxes' clutch" the Dragontamer spoke in pure Valyrian, "come have a look."
Three new dragons were born not too long ago, one crimson, one azure and one emerald. All three of the dragons were playing when they were brought to Aenar and the two. The children watched the dragons with fascination, feeding them burnt meat.
Suddenly all three dragons stood alert. A dragon roared and a shadow passed over them. Aenar looked up and saw a large black dragon pass over them. The dragon landed with a loud boom and glared at the three small dragons with its acidic green eyes.
The Cannibal.
It had come to feast on the baby dragons. It always fed on the baby dragons and dragon eggs. That was how it had gotten as big as it did.
The Dragontamer pushed the three boys away but Aenar broke away from them and rushed for the babies that the man had left. Aenar stood between the wild Dragon and the babies, glaring up at the large beast.
"You will not feed on these dragons!" Aenar shouted. One of them could be his ride, his bonded dragon.
Cannibal roared in Aenar's face but the boy did not move, even if he did want to move out of the way. Something inside him rooted him to the place, but it was not fear.
The Cannibal stared as did Aenar. The dragon leaned forward and gently nudged the young Targaryen. A little confused and almost falling back, Aenar positioned one leg back to steady himself. It nudged him again before pushing him up. Aenar fell on the dragon's snout before free-falling when the Cannibal raised its head. Aenar quickly grabbed onto one of its spikes and was going to use it to get down but ended up clutching it tightly when Cannibal took to the skies.
Aenar was barely aware of the world around him as he took to the skies with the wild dragon. When Cannibal straightened in the skies, Aenar was completely awestruck with the view and tuned the world out, just like when he did in combat.
It was why he had not realized when the wild dragon flew him away from Dragonstone, nor when his siblings tried to call out to him but were not able to reach the faster Cannibal.