Chapter:The Fire Within
The training yard was nearly empty, save for Daemon Targaryen and the hiss of Caraxes's breath behind him. The red wyrm's head loomed over the walls, eyes half-lidded as he watched his rider.
Rhaegar approached quietly, but Daemon had already noticed him.
"You move like a thief," Daemon said, his voice dry. "Best hope you don't steal from the wrong dragon."Rhaegar swallowed, stepping into the yard. "I want to learn," he said simply.Daemon's brow arched. "About swords? Or something else?"
"About dragons. The bond."
At that, the Rogue Prince's expression shifted. He gestured for the boy to sit beside him, and when Rhaegar obeyed, Caraxes stirred, rumbling low, the sound thrumming in Rhaegar's chest.
"You feel it?" Daemon asked.
"The sound?"
"No. The pull. The way your chest answers his growl."
Rhaegar frowned, focusing and indeed, his heart seemed to stumble, caught in rhythm with the dragon's rumble.
"That is the beginning of it," Daemon said. "When dragon and rider are joined, it runs deeper. Caraxes does not merely obey me; I feel his fire when he breathes, his hunger when he hunts. When he soars, the wind touches me as much as him. Sometimes I wake with ash on my tongue, though I've never left my bed."
Rhaegar's eyes widened. "It is like sharing a soul."Daemon smirked. "That is one way to put it. The bond is more than command. It is kinship. But it is not gentle. Dragons do not whisper; they roar. They will scorch through your thoughts, carve their way into you until you cannot tell where you end and they begin."
Rhaegar sat silent, fingers tight against his knees. He remembered the cavern, the suffocating black, the voice in his skull. He remembered not words of fire and hunger, but something else ,something older.
Daemon leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Do you know why Targaryens are bound to dragons, boy?"
Rhaegar shook his head.
"Because we are kin to them. Blood of the dragon is not just a boast. It is a truth. Some say it runs from Valyria's very making, that fire shaped our line as much as flesh. That is why only us or near enough can hope to ride. To bond with a dragon is to wake the fire in your veins, to call to a brother long sleeping."
"And if the dragon refuses?"
"Then you are nothing to it." Daemon's eyes hardened. "And if you try to take what you are not given, you die screaming."
Caraxes rumbled again, lowering his head until the hot gust of his breath swept over them. Daemon did not flinch, only lifted a hand to touch the scaled snout. "But if the bond is true," he continued, "you will find yourself stronger than before. As though the beast's will is twined with yours. You may even hear it in your mind, feel it in your dreams."
Rhaegar's heart leapt, but he kept his face still. "Has that happened to you?"
Daemon's lips curved faintly. "Sometimes. But dragons are not poets. Their voices come as fire and blood, not words. What they give, they give in feeling, not speech."
The boy lowered his gaze, hiding the storm behind his eyes. Daemon spoke as if sure of the truth, yet Rhaegar knew otherwise. He had heard Cannibal's voice not only in feeling, but in Valyrian words, sharp and clear.You have a heart, boy. But an older soul.
The memory shivered through him, bright and terrifying. He almost asked almost confessed but Daemon's gaze was too keen, and his warnings too sharp.
Instead, Rhaegar forced a careful nod. "I want to understand. To be worthy."
Daemon studied him long, then clapped a hand on his shoulder, heavy as iron. "Then learn patience. Dragons are not won in a day. But if you carry the fire, it will show itself. Do not rush to meet it or you may not live long enough to learn."
Rhaegar bowed his head, but inside, the secret burned hotter than any forge.
Daemon spoke of bonds as kinship. Yet what lived inside Cannibal was not only kinship it was memory, age, knowledge deeper than flame. A bond unlike any his uncle described.
And though he dared not speak it, Rhaegar knew this: his path was already set