Aerion stood at the helm of the ship, looking over at the island ahead of them, there was a large volcanic mountain with a great fortress beneath it. He was amazed to finally be setting his eyes upon his family's castle and it was just as extraordinary as written in the books.
It was built by the Valyrians long before the doom fell upon them. Magic was said to be used in its foundation, and that the dragons of old were capable of liquefying and reshaping stone with dragonflame. He often wondered if there was a way to relearn such magic to help his own cause.
They docked at a small fishing village south of the castle. There were ten ships from the royal fleet that remained anchored on the deep-water ports, stationed to protect the gullet from any potential pirate attacks.
Dragonstone lacked the fertile land to grow crops, and instead relied on fishing and cattle to feed its small populace, the dragons were said to be active on the eastern and western sides of the dragonmont, and some even made their own within it, leaving the smallfolk to remain away unless they were itching to be roasted alive.
The cold and damp wind continued to blow against his skin as he set foot off the ship and down the wooden path of the village, he cocked his head to Rodrik who stood beside him, with his hand rested on the sword that hung off his hip.
"I have an unsettling feeling about this place, my prince." Rodrik said.
There was a darkness to Dragonstone that was unmatched by any other place within the known world, apart from the smoking sea itself, you could feel the magic pulling at you and wanting to keep you there, though Aerion felt like he had found something missing from his soul.
"I feel it as well, Rodrik, there is no need to worry yourself about anything, whatever it is will not harm us." Aerion smirked, though he noticed the frown his sworn shield gave.
They made the long walk from the docks to the inn and had many of the inhabitants looking to him as he passed, perhaps noticing the strains of platinum hair that hung from his hood, or his lilac eyes that burned with a constant fire behind them.
When they entered the desolate building, they found the nearest table and took a seat. Aerion pulled back his hood and immediately got the attention from the innkeeper, who came rushing towards them, knocking himself into a table on his way.
"You grace us with ya' presence, lord." the innkeeper kneeled to the ground, and Aerion made a small chuckle before cocking his head away.
"Stand up, man, and don't call him lord, this is your prince." Rodrik replied "Get us two ales and a bowl of oats, with goat's milk."
"Yes, lord.." the innkeeper stumbled as he got back to his feet "Sorry, m' prince." he bowed his head and disappeared behind the counter.
Aerion looked back at Rodrik and smirked, though his thoughts soon went back to thinking of the dragons that had made Dragonstone their home for years. He had read all about them in Runestone, there was a whole section of a book dedicated to what they looked like, how they behaved from previous riders or rumours spread from the inhabitants of the island.
He thought to go for the safer route of attempting to claim one that had already been ridden by someone previously, rather than putting himself in even more danger that he would be in if he tried to claim one of the wild beasts.
"What are you thinking about?" Rodrik asked.
"Dragons." he said plainly "Vermithor and Silverwing made their lairs within the Dragonmont shortly after the deaths of King Jahaerys and Queen Alysanne. They say it's because of the heat that the volcano emits."
"Is that right?" Rodrik replied, hardly interested in the subject.
The innkeeper returned with two mugs of ale and a bowl of oats mixed with goat's milk, and refused to make eye contact with either one of them, turning around and disappearing once again.
"Does it not interest you? The prospect of me claiming a powerful weapon that'll only make us more powerful." Aerion asked, taking a sip.
"I worry for you, that is all. There are risks that come with having a dragon, you can't have this thought that you will be invincible, many of your closest allies will attempt to take advantage of your newfound power." Rodrik tapped the table "Just think of what you are getting yourself into."
"I know, Rodrik." he said
Word had spread like dragonfire that a Targaryen prince was in the village, and the inn was getting busier every minute, when he looked around, all eyes were on him while they also pretended to not even notice him at the same time, and it made him weary.
Aerion downed the large mug of ale and then beckoned over the innkeeper, wanting to get away from the attention as soon as possible.
"We're looking for a guide that knows their way around the island." Aerion said "Do you know anyone of this sort?"
"You'll want Aelyx, m' prince." the innkeeper replied "He's a hermit that lives on the eastern shore, though he ain't been seen in a few moons, he often comes this way for supplies."
Aerion rose from his chair, and dropped a few coppers on the table from his pouch, and made his way out of the inn with Rodrik in tow. Rodrik grabbed him by his arm and pulled the prince back.
"I will search for this hermit. You will head to the castle and await my return." Rodrik said, and Aerion pulled his arm away.
"Do you take me for that child who still needs protecting, Rodrik?" Aerion stood firm, returning a menacing look "Don't touch me again, or I will remove your fingers."
"No, but you're too important to go on this wild goose chase in search of a man that might not even be alive, that is if he even existed and we weren't just fooled. If you go to the castle, they will have maesters and even dragonkeepers that will show you to the Dragon's resting place." Rodrik replied.
Aerion sighed, looking back up at the castle and shaking head "Fine." he lifted his hood and then clasped his hands together "But I am doing this because I want to head into the castle, not because you make some sense."
Rodrik chuckled, and patted Aerion on the shoulder before they head off in opposite directions.
The main gate was shaped into the mouth of a dragon, and the torches that lit up the surrounding area were held by their claws.
"Who goes there?" A guard that was positioned on the walls called down to him, and aimed his crossbow along with four others "I won't ask again."
"Prince Aerion of House Targaryen."
The guardsmen were unsettled as they slowly redrew their crossbows and the gates soon opened up to him. He walked his way into the large outer bailey, big enough to fit even the biggest of dragons.
His presence immediately brought the attention of an older man training a band of new recruits, and he made his way over to him.
"My prince." he said, extending his hand out "I'm Ser Alfred Broom, the master-at-arms here at Dragonstone, we were not expecting you." he chuckled nervously.
Alfred Broom was younger than other master-at-arms he had met, his hair flowed down to his shoulders, and he had a little stubble upon his face.
"Pleasure to meet you, Ser Alfred." Aerion said, though his eyes were not on the man, but rather admiring the architecture "It really is beautiful."
He looked up at the tower in the centre, reaching over the inner walls that protected the main keep from the outer bailey incase of a siege, statues of the dragons sat on the highest peak, there was a bridge that led to another tower shaped like a dragon gazing out across the sea.
"I will escort you into the keep. Our castellan would be most excited to greet you, along with his wife." Ser Alfred turned his heel and looked to the observers "GET BACK TO YOUR DUTIES! This here is the prince, not some fool to look at."
They were stopped by another man has they journeyed up the steps to the main entrance of the keep. Aerion assumed it must be just another guard.
"Ser Alfred." the man nodded "What are you doing escorting a prince of the realm?" he said, bowing his head in Aerion's presence "Let me take him to the castellan."
"This here is Ser Robert Quince, my prince." Ser Alfred looked back at him with the corner of his eye "the fool of Dragonstone." he chuckled, causing Aerion to look back towards the outer bailey, trying to hide the smile on his lips "Move out of the way."
Aerion clocked his head back and saw as Robert clenched his fists, but then stormed off in the huff "I take it there is animosity between the two of you"
"Was it obvious?" he grinned "Always has been, the man would rather eat through our supplies than muster up the strength to pick up a sword, to think he has a knighthood."
He continued to escort Aerion into the Stone Drum, the massive tower which laid at the heart of Dragonstone, and whoever entered did so through the dragon's maw. The hall itself was shaped like a huge dragon lying on its stomach.
They interrupted the castellan and his wife as they ate with their two children, and the hall fell into an immediate silence where there was laughter, and the castellan rose from his chair.
"Uthor, this is Prince Aerion Targaryen." Ser Alfred Broom introduced him "my prince, this is Uthor Bourney, the castellan of Dragonstone, and his wife, Caitlin Bourney."
Aerion nodded his head, and headed over to the table, and instantly made himself at home with sitting down at the other end to where Uthor was.
"Thank you, Ser Alfred, you're dismissed." he looked back over and nodded his head in respect, before turning his focus on the family that nervously sat before him "Don't stop on my arrival, I am in much need of some meat."
Aerion grabbed a sausage from the platter as the servants placed cutlery and a plate in front of him, he bit down on it as he stared at the man opposite, who finally took his seat once again, and smiled.
"Is it to your liking, my prince?" Uthor said, turning his gaze to his younger wife, slender and pretty.
"The cooks have prepared this beautifully, this is exactly what I needed." Aerion replied, looking down at the younger boy who sat beside him "Your father is afraid of what I might do. Are you scared?"
The little boy shook his head, and Aerion tilted his head back to the castellan "What's this one's name?"
"Yorbert." Uthor gulped, and placed his hand on his daughter's back "and this here is Meera, our youngest."
"Yorbert." the prince exclaimed "You have the name of my grandfather, he was a great warrior and seasoned commander.. I am sure you will go to do great things some day, and perhaps even be a fierce warrior yourself."
"I hope so." the little boy said.
Aerion tugged at a piece of bread, looking down at his plate which was now filled with a selection of foods from the table.
"What brings you to Dragonstone, my prince?" Uthor asked.
"Well.." the prince said, finishing off the bread in his mouth before continuing "I'm here to tame my birthright, good ser, it is high time I had a dragon of my own."
"Ha! I've been here so long, I should try my luck at one of those beasts. I could be a fierce dragon rider myself." The man bellowed but received a worrying look from his wife, and soon calmed as the prince did not join him in his laughter.
"Husband." His wife had a gentle voice that soothed the prince when he heard it "Please lower your tone in the presence of our prince."
"Quiet woman!" he growled at her.
"Do you insult me, ser?" Aerion squinted his eyes "You could never be a dragonrider, you know nothing of the blood that courses through my veins, and that of my family."
"It was a simple-minded jest, my prince, nothing more." The man's demeanour changed back into its original state as he cowered behind his wife.
"I apologise for my husband, my prince. He is a fool and is reminded often to mind his tongue when around those better." she bowed her head, then turned to her children "Run along to bed now, sweetlings."
"You are too kind, lady. I can't imagine it is easy putting up with such an oaf." he said, all while in the company of the man "I am sure he will be more respectful to you now." he looked over to the man, giving him a menacing look "is that not right, ser?"
"That is most right, my prince." Uthor replied, placing a hand over his wife's "Sorry, my love, for I have wronged you."
There was a loud creak as the large red doors to the tower opened, causing Aerion to incline in that direction, and that's when he saw him, walking through the dragon's maw.
Daemon.
"Father?" Aerion clenched his fists.
Daemon gave his son a simple nod as he passed him and stood at the table, fetching himself a goblet of the finest wine that laid there, and then taking a long and tasteful sip, then looking at the castellan and his wife.
"Here I am, a prince of the realm and I have fools sitting in my presence." he paused as they then realised and stood up "Get out of my sight."
Aerion hadn't seen anyone move so fast in his life, they scurried from the great hall as if their lives depended on it, leaving Aerion in the presence of the last person he wanted to see alive.
"Pathetic excuse for a castellan." Daemon mumbled, though not faint enough that Aerion could not hear it from his seat.
"You both share similarities to one another. He is a poor castellan, just as you are a pathetic father." Aerion scorned.
Daemon merely scoffed and took a sip from his cup, and sat down in what was Uthor's previous seat, and lifted his boots onto the table.
"You do bore me often, Aerion." Daemon sighed "Come share a drink at the least before you get grumpy, it has been so long that we have been able to be alone as father and son, you were nine years of age if I recall."
"We've had the years to talk, father, and yet you were nowhere to be seen. I had to be raised thinking I was abandoned in a field of sheep, I am surprised you even recognise me as your son." Aerion hissed.
"Would I have given you a dragon's egg had I not thought so?" he widened his arms as he leaned back on the chair "You are my blood, nothing can change that."
"You must have been confused with some bastard you've fathered on a common whore." Aerion chuckled "I would not be here had I been given a dragon's egg."
"Heh." Daemon scratched his head "Your mother has appeared to have lied to you then, I placed one in your cradle at birth."
Aerion gave him a look of confusion, and there was a pause between them as he thought hard on what his mother had told him, but he shook his head and began to tap his fingers against the cold wooden table.
"Why exactly are you here, father?" Aerion asked "Had the King not banished you from these lands."
"I have reasons that will remain my own." Daemon responded "I should ask the same of you, are you finally breaking free of the bronze bitch's blood and claiming your birthright? You must be like a lost hatchling around here, do you even know where to look?"
"No." he admitted "I came seeking the maester, he may know where to find one."
Daemon chuckled "That fool? You had better luck asking a blind man in the fishing village below." he rose from his chair and came closer to Aerion, and leaned against the table "How badly do you want this?"
"More than anything." he looked up "Runestone has been stolen from me by Ser Gerold, I need this to reclaim it."
"Then as your father, I will assist you." Daemon smirked.
There was something else that pushed him, he wanted to know more about his dream and why it felt so real to him, he learned of the prophetic dreams his ancestors had, how Daenys the Dreamer saw the Valyrian freehold's demise and it urged Aenar to sail to Dragonstone.
"Have you ever had a dream that felt real?" he asked, scratching at the arm on his chair as he looked at his father and for the first time saw him as a potential mentor to assist him in his troubles.
"I can't say I have." Daemon shrugged "Why?"
"I think the future is shaping in my mind… or at the least, I am being given a message from the fourteen flames." he ran his hand across the forehead "I had a dream, it felt so real at the time, and in that dream I was burned alive by a dragon, with its bronze scales. I still feel the pain even now."
"Gods you sound just like Viserys." Daemon sighed "There is only one dragon in all of the realm with scales of bronze, and that is Jaehaerys old mount, Vermithor, The Bronze Fury. I will believe your fantasies for a moment, if your attempt is to change the fate shown to you, then claiming that beast would do exactly that."
"I didn't speak of changing my fate. I just want to understand it." Aerion picked himself up onto his feet "Can you help me or not, where is Vermithor's lair?"
"Deep within the Dragonmont." Daemon answered, and began to walk out from the tower "Come then, we don't have long to lose."
"Where is Caraxes? I did not hear him overhead." Aerion replied, following his father.
"He enjoys resting upon the Dragonmont, as do all the dragons." his father replied.
The entrance to the inside of the dragonmont was at the far end of the castle, and guarded by a column of six dragon keepers, they were each armoured in gleaming black, wielding swords with hilts made from dragonbone on their hips, and their helmets crested by a row of scales that continued down the back of their armour, and diminishing downwards.
They were not known to speak the common tongue, and answered to no one but the King and the dragonriders, when Daemon led him there, they all bowed their heads to him.
"We welcome you back to Dragonstone, my prince." one of the dragon keepers spoke to Daemon "Is this one that seeks to be bound to a dragon?"
"Yes." Aerion replied "I seek Vermithor, and I fully intend to claim him as my own."
"Then you are granted entry into the Dragonmont, but proceed with caution, young one, Vermithor has been strained since the death of King Jaehaerys and he is not one for company." they bowed their heads once more as Aerion passed them.
"Will you not be joining me?" Aerion cocked his head back to notice Daemon remained in place.
"You must take this journey on your own, Aerion, just as I did when my father brought me here." Daemon nodded his head, it seemed almost as if his mannerism had changed around him "Do not let Vermithor see any sign of weakness, or he will burn you alive, just as it was in your dream."
Aerion grabbed one of torches that was held up by the dragon's claws and carried it infront of him as he journeyed through the caves, he could feel the heat emitted from the moment he entered and he could see why the dragons loved to rest here.
The rumbling of sleeping dragons echoed throughout and made him shiver with an unsettling fear that he attempted to rid himself of before he came face to face with a dragon. What if he was not worthy enough. Would this be the end of his journey before it has begun?
He ran his hand across the pillar that laid ahead of a large opening, etched into it was 'Vermithor' in the Valyrian language and he knew he was finally in the right place. He took the left through the corridor and waved his torch, though it still remained so dark ahead of him, Aerion could not see if a dragon was present.
That is when he heard it, the grumbles of a hungry dragon waiting for his next meal, he saw the shadow move ahead against the light of the torch. And in that dark space, was an orange light growing ever brighter until dragonflame burst across the rocky ceiling.
Aerion moved his hand in front of his face, and looked away from it as the heat emitted from the flames was too much to handle, though he took a few deep breaths and continued forth towards the now visible dragon, the flames shining against the bronze scales.
Vermithor closed its mouth and snarled at the prince, stamping it's feet and causing a few large rocks to fall from the ceiling, shaking the volcano's foundation as if it was about to collapse in on itself, but it soon stopped as if nothing happened at all.
"Lykirī" Aerion urged as he stepped even closer, gently placing the torch down in front of the creature, and raising his hands. Vemithor let out a loud roar but Aerion kept his ground, despite the fear that lingered within.
"The fourteen flames are with me." he mumbled under his breath. He tilted his head further down the dragon's body, noticing the ropes that led up to his back and slowly Aerion made his way towards them, being careful with each step.
As he passed the dragon's teeth, his hand shook as he reached out to him, his eyes closed, and brushed it against his scales "I may never replace Jaehaerys, but give me this opportunity to be your rider, and together we'll be feared across the realm and wars will end before they even begin."
Aerion saw flashes of his dream with each step, reliving the same moment over and over again, and feeling the complete agony that came with it, but he kept walking despite the pain, gripping tightly onto the ropes, and he watched as Vermithor's eye followed him.
The prince felt as if he was living in two worlds, with his own mind playing tricks on him, bringing him back and forth from reality, as he climbed the ropes, his hands were bloodied and then they were not.
Once he was on the dragon's saddle, he envisioned the Iron Throne before him and the scene in his dream played out in his mind, and that was when he realised, it was him all along, he was the rider that would burn everyone in his path. Was this to be his fate? Were the gods telling him to claim the throne for himself and his bloodline, or was it to stop a war that is to come.
Vermithor let out a vicious roar and swung its head up and let out a burst of flame towards the stone ceiling again.
"Sóvés!" Aerion called out to him, though Vermithor remained in place, swinging his head to look at him with one of his eyes, he repeated the phrase "Sóvés!" with more determination than the last.
The dragon lifted himself up from the resting position, and immediately began to flap his wings out through the crack above big enough to fit something as big as himself through.
Aerion could only let out a laugh of pure joy, he finally felt what the dragonriders before him did, the breeze of wind against his face that he longed for.
He began the slow descent towards the sea, and skimmed his wings across it. Aerion released his hand from the handle on the saddle and spread them open, screaming at the top of his lungs, though quickly gripping it tight as Vermithor made a quick turn to the left.
Vermithor let out a loud roar, evening snapping its jaw, though soon turned towards the castle, and descended down into the outer bailey. Aerion's heart was practically beating out of his chest as he climbed down the rope.
He looked around as the household guard looked in amazement at the sight of a newly claimed Vermithor. Aerion ran his hand across the dragon's jaw, and placed his head upon him just beneath the teeth "We're destined to bring forth change in the realm."
There was a single set of claps coming from behind him, and he clocked his head towards it to see Daemon once again, with a wide grin on his lips, and with the familiar face of Rodrik following along after him/
Aerion stepped back from Vermithor, and made his way across the bailey towards Daemon, clasping his hands behind his cloak.
"You were right. It was Vermithor in my dreams, it was my fate to lay claim to him, and now we will show Gerold and anyone who decides to stand against us the error of their ways."
There was a newfound commitment within Aerion's soul, he finally found the piece he was longing for. He believes the gods have a plan for him and will see to it no matter the personal cost.
Daemon leaned in, planting his hand up Aerion's shoulder "Do not let this power you are feeling get to your head, it will cloud your judgement. Don't expect Vermithor to completely bend to your will."
"I wouldn't expect such a lesson from you, father, yet you continue to impress me." Aerion chuckled, then embraced Rodrik after "Did you have any luck with this hermit?"
"No. There was sign that someone was settled on the eastern shores but I could not find him." Rodrik smiled "But looks like we do not have to, you finally have what you wanted after sixteen long years. How does it feel?"
"Liberating." Aerion smirked.
"I am proud, son." Daemon tilted his head and unsheathed Dark Sister "However, both a dragon and it's rider must be strong if you want to succeed against your enemy. Could you defend yourself if he was not there?" he said, pointing towards Vermithor.
"You wish to battle me, father?" Aerion scoffed, "I will prove just how far I have come."
Aerion unsheathed his sword and began to circle his father, looking for any weakness to take advantage in his father's defence, but found nothing that wasn't exceptional.
Daemon was the first to strike, lunging forward and striking towards Aerion's torso, to which he swiftly blocked the attack, using speed to clash their swords together, the loud clangs could be heard throughout the castle.
Aerion then stepped back as Daemon almost sliced his neck open, laughing as he took deep breaths "I believe you may be getting slower in your old age, father."
The danger of being sliced in half with one wrong move made Aerion feel more alive, the fast pace of his heart was as if it was going to burst out of his chest.
"Slow? I have never been slow." Daemon yelled, going for another strike, to which Aerion quickly moved around his attack, being quick on his feet had its advantages.
He could tell that his faint chuckle after each attack was annoying his father beyond belief and driving him mad.
"Ser Rodrik has trained you well." he said, nodding to the sworn shield that spectated the duel from a distance "Though you still have much to learn still."
"What do you know about anything? You're never around." he questioned, circling his father once more, his eyes solely focused on Dark Sister, awaiting any attack he may attempt.
"You may not want to believe this, Aerion, but I ensured I knew exactly what you have been up to for quite some time." Daemon said "since I would never get the answers I wanted from your mother."
Aerion looked at him with confusion, and it was then that Daemon made another strike, aiming for his lower left leg, and Aerion managed to block the attack but fell to the ground.
"Did I strike some confusion within you, boy?" Daemon laughed.
"What do you mean you have been keeping an eye on me?" Aerion rose from the ground, rubbing his shoulder, which was smacked hard against the ground "Since when?"
"Since always." Daemon revealed "You are my son, and therefore it is my duty to keep an eye on you, and make sure you do not do anything stupid, like running away with a tavern wench."
Aerion shook his head, looking at his father with an enormous rage building up inside him
"It had to be me. That bronze bitch would have let you get away with anything."
Without a single word, Aerion began a barrage of strikes towards his father, each with more anger behind it than the last, with the intent to harm, though Daemon parried each of them with ease, and they opened up a weakness in Aerion's defence.
Daemon smacked the blade out of his hand with Dark Sister, holding the tip at his throat "Do not let anger take control, let that be the lesson I teach you."
"You've been watching over me..but refused to even give me the time of day!" Aerion yelled, pushing himself away from the blade "I needed you, and you were never there." a flurry of emotions was swarming out of him at once, after having been built up over years of abandonment.
Vermithor rose from his resting position and began to grit his teeth at Daemon as Aerion's emotions got the better of him, causing those around them to clear the bailey.
"I need you to calm down, Aerion." Daemon said, sheathing his sword "you need to learn to control your emotions or they will consume you, just as they have already."
"You are the last one to be telling me to exercise restraint." Aerion shouted.
"Then listen to me, Aerion, calm down." Rodrik replied.
Aerion listened and threw his blade onto the ground, falling down beside a wall, breathing heavily.
"Let us leave this conflict in the past, hm?" Daemon knelt down beside him "I know you hate me, and you can continue to do so, if you use it to your advantage."
"You are right, father.." he agreed, muttering under his breath, though enough for Daemon to hear him.
He reached out for Daemon's hand as it was offered and got back up to his feet, and wiped off the dirt gathered on his trousers.