Chapter 3. The first dragonlord
Dragonstone. Last week of 70 BC
The trip in the ratchet had not been boring. Basically because with the gold he had been able to pay the passage, but the captain had made him clean the floors to earn some stale bread and roast cod. Vaegon preferred not to say anything, but it came to mind when in his previous life, he went on his father's yacht to one of the business parties he organized. He even remembered seeing his father having sex with the secretary on duty, while his mother was drowning her sorrows in bourbon. Then he had gone for a walk alone. Now that he thought about it, he had always been alone...something that had not changed. But he still missed them.
When night fell he was allowed to go to a humble cabin, so to speak, in which instead of a bed there was a straw. Then he would have to go into the water to prevent the issue of lice. After barely sleeping due to the rocking of the ship, Vaegon was awakened by the captain with a knock on the door and a rude shout, for him to get out before he kicked him out.
"What you have to put up with," Vaegon complained, getting up tiredly.
And so for the next two days, he continued that routine, with the only variation being maybe some soup or stale cheese. He tried to stay silent, the less contact he had with the crew, especially because some drunken sailor had slapped him when he got his cabin mixed up, being on guard would be much better for him. He already had enough fears to deal with, such as a storm, or a pirate attack, and he could end up at the bottom of the sea, without anyone knowing the end of him. That was one reason why he couldn't sleep well, and deep down he was grateful for the exhaustion of the work, and he drank some water.
Two days later, they finally sighted what was once the westernmost outpost of the Valyrian Frankish fiefdom. Then he smiled, although he felt his stomach churn and his legs limp. He could not hide his joy when he was in the canoe, and he jumped out, getting half his tunic and his entire cloak wet, and he ran away. He did not want to know anything about those merchants, nor see them ever again. But still he thanked them from a distance.
He continued walking for a while without any control, until he stopped when he felt a stone on his boots. Then he stopped for a moment, his stomach growling from not having eaten anything since last night. And he stopped for a moment out of fatigue.
"And now what do I do?" he asked himself. He was on the island, but it was the first time he was there, and that was a serious problem. At that time he was alone and without a single gold coin. But he smiled for a moment as he saw the ancient Targaryen stronghold.
Vaegon headed with the cloak covered towards the fortress, it took him almost an hour to get there. But when he arrived he was stopped by the guard. Vaegon flinched for a moment, but took a step forward.
"Let me pass," he said. "I am Prince Vaegon Targaryen."
The guards laughed, though they didn't laugh as much when Vaegon removed his hood, revealing his Valyrian features and the Valyrian steel dagger.
"Let me pass!" he thundered "Call the castellan, this is Lord Aenar's dagger!"
One of the guards hesitated, but one of the several servants alerted Sir Vance, the castellan of Dragonstone. He was a middle-aged man, bald and with a thin beard, and he did not recognize Vaegon, since he had never seen him. However, he did recognize the dagger. So he advanced towards the entrance with the guards standing at attention in his presence.
"And what are you doing here…my prince?" the castellan asked without hiding his skepticism.
"I ran away to claim my dragon!" Vaegon bellowed.
It was not a very prudent response, but the castellan had met Princess Rhaena, and that boy had the same character as him. And he had them take him inside.
Vaegon had a good meal of roast aurochs and radish soup. There he was alone with the castellan and Maester Ulm, who kept their eyes on him. Although they didn't say anything, it was obvious to him that they had sent a raven to the capital. Far from being restrained, he smiled guiltily, and she considered his words well before finishing the banquet.
"And how many dragons are there on the island?" he asked curiously.
"There are four dragons on the island," the maester said kindly, but without taking his eyes off him. "Vhagar, the sheep thief, Greyghost… and the Cannibal," he said with a shudder when speaking of that beast.
"Do you know where Vhagar is?" he asked innocently.
The maester looked at him as if he had grown a second head.
"You will not do anything so dangerous," the maester forbade him. "You are too young for such recklessness, and their majesties will be very worried about you."
Vaegon pouted.
"I am a third son," he lamented. "And I want to prove that I am better than my brothers," he spoke with some resentment.
The maester sighed.
"Someday you will understand that you are very loved," he told her in a benevolent tone.
Vaegon remained silent, and chose to go to the chambers that had been prepared for him. Those had been the same ones his father had stayed in when he was held hostage by Visenya Targaryen. It was a little run down, but they had fixed it up and he was decent. But he had to think about something, the king and queen could appear at any moment. And after conquering his sleep, he slipped out of his room before dark, because the guards were asleep. He seriously thought that this was a serious problem for the security of any castle.
"Stop there!" shouted a hoarse voice.
Apparently the castellan had smelled something like that, so Vaegon had to run throughout the fortress, followed by a handful of guards. He passed by the stone drum tower, and set off down the stairs in all directions. In the end, he managed to avoid them near the double wall, and slipped away under the cover of darkness, while several screams could be heard in the distance, probably thinking about the fury of the kings.
He walked carefully across the moor, he was a little cold and could barely see anything in the moonlight. His ankles hurt, but he didn't stop his advance. Now he needed a dragon, whatever it was, before the conciliator and the kind one applied the punishment of the century. He moderated his walk, more out of fatigue than anything else, past the two miles. He had given him a tug, and he stopped for a moment to rest, but he did so hidden among some bushes. Then at dawn he set out again. And he wandered from one place to another, until he came across a shepherd and his flock near one of the villages. The man was very simple in good faith, and he gave him some cheese, for which Vaegon thanked him.
Then he set off to the slopes of Montedragón. This place was inhospitable and reeked of danger, as it was full of caves with eyes staring at him. He had to find Vhagar as soon as possible. Preferably before he had a panic attack. Besides, the road was rocky and it was still a little cold, if he continued like this he would catch a bad flu.
He was walking carefully, trying to find Vhagar, it was likely that he was in one of the caves, it was not too big yet. However, he found no trace of any dragon.
"Neither Vhagar nor any other dragon," he said in disbelief after visiting another of the caves. But the smell was very strong, and it was only for a moment, but he found the remains of the dragonbone. It took Vaegon a second to process this, and he turned around, his face contorted with fright and trying to make as little noise as possible.
However, he found the sky darkened. Vaegon looked up, and what he saw was not a mountain, but only because he moved with a life of his own, black as coal, with stony scales like steel, and with bright green eyes that looked at the world with malice. Two thick leather wings, two heavy legs, elongated tail and neck. His mouth could swallow a mammoth or four aurochs without any problem, his tusks were as long as Dornish spears, and a scar on his face.
Vaegon stared at him in disbelief at what was before him. He had seen the badly wounded Balerion in the dragonpit, but the Cannibal seemed just as large, perhaps even larger, spanning five hundred feet in length. In practice it was triple the size of Vermithor or double Vhagar. He would be happy to have a dragon like that, unfortunately that dragon was looking at him with pure rage. And he roared at him, making a good part of the island tremble, frightening the sheep thief.
The Cannibal stared at him and smiled cruelly, Vaegon was paralyzed with fear, and vomited the roast meat he had eaten in the night. But the dragon would not devour him so lightly. Dragons needed to singe their prey before devouring them. Vaegon was engulfed by a flare of green fire, and felt his heart leap out of his mouth. But the fire stopped and he felt nothing. He slowly opened his eyes, and touched his body. He was covered in ashes, and naked, completely naked. But surprised to still be alive, and the Cannibal was also surprised, demonstrating a reasonable level of intelligence.
"I'm still... I'm still alive," said Vaegon, unable to hide his stupor.
And the dragon roared at him again, making him fall to the ground. But Vaegon got up from the ground, and approached the Cannibal step by step, who narrowed his eyes at such audacity.
"Dohaerās Draco!" (serve me Dragon) Vaegon shouted at the top of his lungs with his high-pitched child's voice.
But the Cannibal was not one to let himself be subdued just for the sake of it, and he once again enveloped Vaegon in a flare that incinerated everything around him fifty meters away.
"You are Draco!" Vaegon shouted emerging from the flames.
The Cannibal roared again, this time in a way so horrifying that it would freeze the blood of any living being. Then he began to thrash about violently, and looked menacingly at Vaegon until he touched his snout, so wrinkled and stony, but pleasantly warm. The monster let out a defeated groan. And he lowered his head in respect.
Vaegon began to laugh like a man possessed. That was surreal, and on top of that he was naked, but at least he had accomplished his goal. And he fell to the ground laughing and crying, he really didn't want to scream. He spent a few minutes lying on the floor, he really needed to rest. But he finally stood up, and climbed onto the dragon's back through its right wing. He had difficulty, because the Cannibal's scales were sharp as swords and were making small cuts on his arms and legs. Although in the area near his neck he tried to adjust himself. But then he noticed something shiny, and in the middle of the upper horns, he saw a Valyrian steel stuck between several of his horns. Vaegon grabbed the scabbard with all his strength, pulling it from his dragon, revealing a sword that was almost as long as the prince himself.
And the cannibal roared mightily. And he took flight. Very carefully, he clung to the dragon's back, luckily it seemed as if the scales were holding him up.
"To King's Landing!" he shouted full of joy.
The cannibal roared again, and increased his speed. He took them all day, and much of the night. The excitement was such that Vaegon's small body did not need to eat or sleep. The fresh wind and the beauty of the sea intoxicated him. He had never felt so free. But he looked at the sword and it had a strange inscription in High Valyrian that said "Vaoserys" and in his head he wanted to wonder who that dragon belonged to before.
When he finally made the capital visible. The dragon strengthened its rhythm and, tearing through the sound, circled the city three times, while the city's dragons roared at a hostile presence.
"There," he said, pointing to the red fortress.
And the dragon landed in the gardens of the red fortress. Vermithor roared at him and Silverwing was cowed by the Cannibal's presence, although he remained grim in his presence. There was a calm before the storm. Vaegon slid down one of the dragon's wings, and trudged along with the sword in his hands.
But the last thing he heard before falling to the ground unconscious was some screams and the footsteps of the guard.
Notes.
In the next chapter Vaegon will have to face the consequences of his actions.