King's Landing, The Red Keep – 130 AC

Riding on Ghost's back, I felt a rare thrill of freedom. The wind whipped past us, wild and fierce, as we soared high above the landscape. For a moment, it was just me, Ghost, and the endless sky—a stark contrast to the claustrophobic confines of courtly intrigue.

Ghost let out a rumbling roar that vibrated through me, a dragon's equivalent of a contented sigh. I could feel the heat of his breath and the power of his muscles beneath me. "You know," I said, leaning into the wind, "it's not often I get to enjoy being this high up without worrying about some bloody war or another."

Ghost snorted, a plume of fire streaming from his nostrils. If dragons could roll their eyes, I'm pretty sure he'd have done it right then. "Oh, so you're missing the high drama of the Red Keep? I thought you enjoyed a good plot twist."

I laughed, though it was more of a chuckle than a full-blown laugh. "Oh, I do enjoy a good plot twist. Just not the ones that end with someone stabbing me in the back or worse, being forced to deal with endless streams of sycophants."

As we glided over the sprawling land below, I couldn't help but think about the changes both of us had undergone. I used to be Joanna Snow, the Stark bastard who knew nothing but the harshness of Winterfell's winds and the coldness of her own illegitimacy. Now, I'm Lucerys Targaryen-Velaryon, and the weight of that transformation is heavy. Sometimes, it feels like I'm carrying the whole of House Targaryen's legacy on my shoulders, which is no small feat.

Ghost, meanwhile, had his own transformation to mull over. Once a direwolf prowling the snow, he was now a magnificent dragon with scales that shimmered like molten silver in the sunlight. He seemed to revel in it, every beat of his wings a testament to his new form. "I never imagined I'd be a dragon," he said with a hint of amusement. The bond between us is stronger than other Targaryen-Dragon bonds, and even stronger than the Stark-Direwolf bond I used to possess. Thanks to the blessing of the Gods, I could now share more than emotions between us. We could talk with each other, and I will never give up this for anything! "There was something quite satisfying about being a direwolf, but flying? That's another level entirely."

I grinned. "I bet. The view is incredible up here, isn't it? I used to think the world was small and confined, but from up here, it's like everything opens up, almost like all the possibilities are laid out before us."

"Quite the change from prowling the woods and biting anyone who looked at us funny," Ghost rumbled. His voice carried a hint of nostalgia, mixed with satisfaction.

"Yeah," I said, a touch of bitterness in my voice. "Though I do miss my old self sometimes. Joanna Snow was more...gentle. Less...politically savvy. The kind of girl who would have fought for justice rather than schemed for power."

"And now?" Ghost prompted, his eyes glowing with curiosity.

"Now, I'm sharper, more calculating," I admitted. "I had to be. Dealing with House Lannister, for instance—let's just say diplomacy doesn't always involve a friendly chat. Sometimes it means showing your teeth and making sure they know you're not to be trifled with."

"Sounds like you've adapted well," Ghost said, his tone approving.

"I suppose I have," I conceded. "But I can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for simpler times. When all I had to worry about was surviving Winterfell and avoiding the ire of my stepmother."

"Ah, the good old days," Ghost said, though his tone was more playful than wistful. "Well, we've both changed. You're not just a Stark bastard anymore. You've got Targaryen fire in your veins now, and I've got scales and wings. It's quite the upgrade, if you ask me."

I chuckled. "An upgrade indeed. But it comes with its own set of challenges. Sometimes, I wonder if I've lost more than I've gained. My Stark self had its virtues, and there's a part of me that misses that innocence."

"Perhaps," Ghost said thoughtfully. "But every change brings new opportunities. And every new form, whether dragon or Targaryen, has its own strengths and weaknesses."

"True," I said, feeling a sense of peace settle over me. "Maybe I can learn to balance the best of both worlds. I just need to keep moving forward and adapt as I go."

As we flew on, the sun dipping lower in the sky, I felt a renewed sense of clarity. Ghost and I had both changed, but perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. With the wind at our backs and the freedom of flight beneath us, the future seemed a little less daunting and a little more exciting.

When we finally circled back towards the Red Keep, Ghost whined in that way dragons do when they're being put out. It was almost a comical sight, the mighty dragon pouting like a petulant child. "Not fair," he grumbled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my bones. "You get to waltz back into the castle while I'm stuck out here, not even allowed to follow you inside."

I couldn't help but snicker. "Oh, come on, Ghost. You've got wings and fire. I think you can manage a little bit of separation anxiety. Besides, I don't see you complaining when you're flying through the sky or basking in the sun."

"True," he grumbled. "But flying's not much fun without you. And don't get me started on the idea of being cooped up in some cold, dank cave. No dragon likes being chained."

I rolled my eyes, giving him a playful nudge. "You wanted the upgrade, remember? The whole 'dragon' gig? You can't have everything, you know. Some sacrifices come with the territory."

Ghost snorted, sending a puff of smoke up into the air. "If by 'sacrifice' you mean I get to sleep under the stars and not be locked in a dungeon, then fine. I'll take it. But you owe me a nice long flight tomorrow."

"Deal," I laughed, watching as he glided down toward the beach.

Ghost snorted and circled down towards the beach. I could see him land with an almost huffy grace before he took off again, soaring out of sight. The audacity of the dragon made me chuckle. Some things never changed, no matter how much we did.

I was met by Ser Erryk, my ever-loyal sworn shield. His presence was a comforting constant amid the chaos of the capital. "Ready to head back, my lady?" he asked, his tone both respectful and warm.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I replied. "Let's get this over with. I'm sure I've had enough excitement for one day."

As I turned to head back to the Red Keep, Ser Erryk fell into step beside me. I hadn't had much chance to talk with him, so the walk through the winding paths of King's Landing became a rare opportunity to get to know my sworn shield. Erryk's armor clanked softly as we walked, a reassuring presence that contrasted sharply with the chaos of the city. His stoic demeanor was softened by the kind smile that peeked out from behind his helmet.

"So, Ser Erryk," I started, trying to break the silence, "how's life treating you these days? Any thrilling stories to share from your latest patrols?"

He chuckled softly. "Not many thrilling stories, I'm afraid. Mostly just the usual drudgery of keeping the peace in the capital. Though there was that one time I had to disarm a drunken lord who thought he could take on the entire city guard. That was a bit of a spectacle."

I laughed, imagining the scene. "Sounds like quite the event. Did you have to wrestle him into submission?"

"Something like that," Erryk said with a grin. "Though mostly it was just a matter of talking him down and making sure he didn't make too much of a fool of himself."

As we continued walking, I found myself more curious about Erryk. "You've been with me for quite a while now. What made you decide to become a sworn shield? I mean, it's not exactly the easiest job."

Erryk's expression grew thoughtful. "I suppose it was a combination of things. Loyalty to your family, for one. Your mother had a way of making you want to stand by her side. And then, when you came into the picture, it felt like the right thing to do. You've got a way of inspiring loyalty, even if it's not always obvious."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Inspiring loyalty, huh? I've always thought I was more likely to inspire a swift kick in the rear."

Erryk chuckled again, a sound that was becoming increasingly familiar and comforting. "You've got a sharp wit, no doubt. But there's something about you that makes people want to stick around and help. Even when you're being difficult."

"Good to know," I said with a smirk. "I'll try to remember that when I'm giving you all sorts of grief."

Erryk smiled. "I'm sure you will. And don't worry, I'll be right here to take it. Besides, someone's got to keep you out of trouble."

We continued our journey in comfortable silence for a while, and I found myself reflecting on Erryk's words. There was something reassuring about having someone so steadfast by my side. It made the chaos of the capital seem a little less overwhelming.

As we reached the Red Keep, the familiar walls loomed large and imposing. I glanced at Erryk, who gave me a reassuring nod. "We're almost there," he said.

"Thanks, Ser Erryk," I said, feeling a sense of gratitude. "For everything."

He inclined his head slightly. "It's my honor, my lady. Always."

Back at the Red Keep, I found myself wandering the familiar halls, though they didn't feel as familiar as they once had. It was strange, really, how much a place could change when you're the one who's different. The tapestries were the same, the stone walls just as cold, but everything seemed to echo with a new kind of silence, one that I hadn't noticed before. Maybe it was the weight of my new identity settling in, or perhaps it was the lingering thrill of flight, of feeling truly free for the first time in what felt like ages.

Ghost's words stuck with me, that mix of longing and acceptance. I suppose we both had to make sacrifices—he couldn't follow me into the castle, and I couldn't quite leave behind the pieces of myself that still clung to who I used to be. The Stark in me wasn't completely gone, not yet, but it was fading, being replaced by something sharper, something forged in fire rather than snow.

I leaned against one of the stone pillars, letting the coolness seep into my skin. The transformation hadn't been easy, and it wasn't something I could simply shrug off. The Stark blood in me wanted to resist, to cling to the old ways, the honor, the simplicity of the North. But the Targaryen-Velaryon blood—it demanded more. It demanded power, control, a fierceness that I hadn't known I possessed until recently.

I couldn't help but think back to the way I had dealt with House Lannister. The old me, Joanna Snow, might've tried to find some middle ground, some way to settle things without bloodshed. But Lucerys, the Targaryen-Velaryon, she had no patience for that. The Lannisters had wronged us, and I wasn't going to let that slide. The ruthless efficiency with which I handled them was startling, even to me. But it felt right, in a twisted, necessary way. The world was harsh, and I had to be harsher to survive it.

As I made my way to my chambers, I thought about Ser Erryk. There was something comforting about knowing he was there, not just as a sworn shield but as someone I could talk to, someone who understood the chaos and absurdity of our lives in Westeros. His words had grounded me, reminding me that I wasn't completely alone in this mess, even if it felt like it at times. He wasn't just following orders; he was genuinely invested in protecting me, and that meant something.

In my chambers, I kicked off my boots and collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the canopy. The room was quiet, save for the distant sounds of the Red Keep settling into the night. I let out a long breath, feeling the tension ease from my shoulders. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of change, and I hadn't had much time to process it all.

Lucerys Velaryon, a name that still felt strange on my tongue, yet it was who I was now. Not a Stark, not a bastard, but a dragon rider, a force to be reckoned with. The gods of Old Valyria had seen fit to make this change, and who was I to argue with the whims of the gods? There was a certain freedom in accepting it, in letting go of the past and embracing the fire that now burned within me.

I turned onto my side, pulling the blankets up to my chin. The cool silk against my skin was a reminder of the luxuries that came with my new station, but also of the expectations. There was no room for hesitation or doubt. If I was going to survive, I needed to fully embrace who I was now, to be the dragon in both name and spirit.

As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a renewed sense of purpose settling in my bones. The past was behind me, and the future, while daunting, was mine to shape. I was Lucerys Velaryon, and I would carve my own path through the chaos of Westeros, with fire and blood if need be. The game was far from over, and I intended to play it to the end.