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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
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"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
158: Dragon Rider
The dragon pit was stifling.
Daenerys stood at the edge of the great enclosure, her arms crossed over her chest, her violet eyes fixed on the two dragons that prowled within.
This place had once been used by the Masters to train their slaves for the fighting pits…a place of blood, suffering and death. Now it was a home for her children.
Viserion and Rhaegal moved restlessly across the sands, their massive bodies leaving deep furrows in the ground. They were beautiful…cream and gold, green and bronze, but there was something in their eyes that had not been there before. Something restless. Something hungry and dangerous.
'They are not happy,' Daenerys realized. 'They have not been happy for a long time.'
A group of servants approached the pit, carrying large chunks of raw meat in wooden carts. They moved cautiously, their faces pale with fear, their eyes fixed on the dragons.
"Easy now," one of them whispered. "Easy. We're just bringing your food. Nothing to fear."
Viserion turned his head, his golden eyes fixed on the servants. For a moment, he was still. Then, without warning, he lunged at one of them.
The servants screamed.
Viserion's massive jaws snapped shut inches from the nearest man, his teeth gleaming like daggers. The servant stumbled backward, falling to the ground, his face white with terror. Viserion advanced, his head lowered, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
"Viserion!" Daenerys shouted, her voice cutting through the chamber as she rushed forward. "Stop, get away from them!"
The dragon did not listen to her.
He continued to advance, his eyes fixed on the fallen servant, his jaws opening wide, ready to eat him whole. The servant screamed again, scrambling backward, his hands raised in a futile gesture of protection.
"Viserion!" Daenerys ran toward the dragon, her heart pounding in her chest. "Stop! Now!"
She threw herself between Viserion and the servant, her arms spread wide, her body a shield between the dragon and his prey.
"Stop," she said, her voice firm. "Stop this. Now!."
Viserion hesitated for a second. His golden eyes met violet ones, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in their depths, some recognition at last, or confusion about her actions. Then he snorted, a puff of smoke curling from his nostrils, and turned away.
He stalked back to his corner of the pit, his tail lashing behind him to show his discontent.
Daenerys stood there, her chest heaving, her heart pounding. The servants scrambled to their feet and fled, their screams echoing in the corridor beyond.
'He almost killed him,' she thought. 'He almost killed an innocent man, and I could not stop him.'
She felt a hand on her shoulder.
"They are not listening to you."
Daenerys spun around.
Joffrey stood behind her. His golden eyes looked calm, and his expression emanated a sense of serenity. He was dressed simply with a dark tunic, leather breeches, and worn boots, but there was something about him that made him seem larger than life. Something about the way he held himself. Something about the power that radiated from him like heat from a fire.
"Joffrey," she breathed. "How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to see the issue you are facing." He stepped past her, walking toward the dragons. "They are not listening to you, Daenerys. They have not been listening for some time."
Daenerys felt a flash of anger. "They are my children. They have always listened to me."
"Perhaps once, but now they have grown up, and they are changed." Joffrey turned to look at her, his golden eyes steady. "When was the last time they obeyed you without hesitation? When was the last time you felt truly connected to them?"
Daenerys opened her mouth to respond, but the words died in her throat.
'When was the last time?' she wondered. 'When was the last time I felt that bond?'
She could not remember.
"It has been years," she admitted. "They have become so rebellious now. And I..."
"You have been trying to control them," Joffrey said. "Trying to keep them safe. Trying to protect them from the world. But dragons are not meant to be controlled. They are not meant to be kept in cages. They are meant to fly into the sky."
Daenerys felt tears prick at her eyes. "I am afraid. Afraid of what they might do. Afraid of what they might become if I let them roam free. What if they just leave me and I never see them again?. What would it become of me then?. I would be the mother of dragons with no dragons."
"They are what they are, Daenerys," Joffrey said. "They will become what they are meant to be. That is not something you can prevent. And trying so hard will only make things worse."
He walked back toward her, his footsteps silent on the sand. "You cannot control all three of them. It is impossible. No Valyrian in recorded history has ever commanded more than one dragon. Not even Aegon the Conqueror."
Daenerys frowned. "Aegon had two sister-wives. They rode Rhaenys and Meraxes."
"Yes. His wives rode the other dragons. But Aegon himself rode only Balerion. One dragon, one rider. That is the bond. That is the connection. That's how it has always been."
He stopped before her, his golden eyes meeting hers.
"You need to choose," he said. "One dragon. One bond. The other two will need to find their own riders, in time."
Daenerys looked at her two dragons. Rhaegal was watching her with curious eyes, his green scales shimmering in the torchlight. Viserion was still in his corner, his back to her, his tail twitching with irritation.
'Viserion,' she thought. 'It has to be him.'
She did not know why. Perhaps it was because he reminded her of her brother Viserys…stubborn, proud, and quick to anger. Perhaps it was because some part of her wanted to prove that she could reach him. That she could calm the fire that burned inside him.
"Viserion," she said aloud. "I choose Viserion."
Joffrey nodded. "Then let us begin."
They approached Viserion together.
The dragon watched them come, his golden eyes wary, his body tense. He was not the largest of her dragons; that was Drogon, but he was the most unpredictable. The most aggressive of the three.
"He does not trust me," Daenerys whispered.
"He does not trust anyone…it's a dragon," Joffrey replied. "You have to make him trust you by forming a strong bond with him."
He stepped forward, placing himself between Daenerys and the dragon. Viserion's eyes fixed on him, and for a moment, the dragon seemed to hesitate.
Joffrey looked into Viserion's eyes.
Daenerys could not see what passed between them. She could not feel what Joffrey did. But she saw the change in Viserion…the way his body relaxed, the way his eyes softened, the way his growl faded into silence.
"Now," Joffrey said. "Place your hand on his snout."
Daenerys stepped forward, her heart pounding. She reached out, her fingers trembling, and touched Viserion's snout.
The dragon flinched…then stilled.
"Close your eyes," Joffrey said, his voice soft. "Focus. Breathe. Feel him."
Daenerys closed her eyes.
She could feel Joffrey's presence beside her…warm, steady, reassuring. She could smell his scent, something clean and sharp, like ozone and lightning. She could feel his hand on her shoulder, guiding her, steadying her.
'Focus, Daenerys,' she told herself. 'Focus on Viserion, not on Joffrey.'
She reached out with her mind, searching for the bond that had once connected them. It was there…faint, frayed, barely visible, but it was there. She grasped it and held on.
Emotions flooded her mind. Anger. Frustration. Loneliness. Viserion did not understand why he was trapped here, why he could not fly free like Drogon. He wanted to hunt. He wanted to breathe fire. He wanted to be a dragon.
'I understand,' Daenerys thought. 'I understand now.'
She felt the bond strengthen. She felt Viserion's mind open to her, his thoughts flowing into hers. He was not just an animal. He was a being with feelings and desires and dreams. And all he wanted was to be free.
When she opened her eyes, she was sitting on his back.
She did not remember climbing onto him. She did not remember how she had gotten there. But there she was, perched between his shoulder blades, her hands gripping the scales.
And she knew what she had to do now.
"Sōvēs," she whispered.
Viserion took off.
<><>
The world fell away.
Viserion soared through the sky, his wings spreading wide, catching the wind beneath them. Daenerys could feel his joy, his exhilaration, his sense of freedom. It flowed through the bond, filling her with a warmth she had not felt in years.
"Go left!" she shouted, and Viserion turned left.
"Go right!" she shouted, and Viserion turned right.
"Higher!" she shouted, and Viserion climbed higher.
He listened to her. He obeyed her. He was hers, and she was his.
'This is what it means to be a dragonrider,' she thought. 'This is what I have been missing.'
She looked down at the city below…the pyramids, the winding streets, the distant glimmer of the sea. She had ruled this city. She had freed its people. But she had never truly seen it, not like this.
'I have been keeping them caged,' she realized. 'I have been trying to protect them, but I have been hurting them instead.'
She thought of Drogon, always flying away, always disappearing. She had thought he was being rebellious, disobedient. But he was not. He was just being a dragon.
'I am sorry,' she thought, sending the feeling through the bond to Viserion. 'I am sorry for keeping you caged.'
Viserion rumbled, a sound that might have been forgiveness.
They descended back to the dragon pit.
Joffrey was waiting for her, his golden eyes fixed on the sky. He watched as Viserion landed, as Daenerys slid down from his back, as she turned to face him.
She was smiling.
It was not the smile of a queen, nor the smile of a conqueror. It was the smile of a woman who had found something she had thought lost. The smile of a dragonrider.
"That was..." She shook her head. "There are no words."
"There are always words," Joffrey said. "You just have to find them."
Daenerys laughed. It was a bright, joyful sound, one that she had not heard from herself in years.
"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for showing me this. For helping me."
Joffrey inclined his head. "You did the work. I just... guided you."
"You did more than that." Daenerys stepped closer, her violet eyes fixed on his golden ones. "You always do more than that. You…I dont know what I would do without you."
She was standing before him now, close enough to touch. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. Close enough to smell that clean, sharp scent.
'He is beautiful,' she thought. 'He is terrible and beautiful, and I have never met anyone like him.'
The thought came unbidden, and she did not push it away. She did not want to push it away.
"Joffrey," she whispered.
"Yes?"
She did not answer with words.
She reached up, grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him.
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