Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Without waiting for Lyonel to interject, Bartimos solemnly declared, "Prince, the Celtigar family has always been loyal to the royal family, and we shall honor your request."

Borrowing a ship may have seemed a trifling matter, but securing the favor of the king's eldest son held far greater significance.

Claw Isle lay just a few hours' sail from Dragonstone, a journey even quicker if undertaken by a mighty dragon. Given the circumstances, it made sense to acquiesce rather than decline, so it was necessary that the prince's returns to island to make preparations.

While Rhaegar was puzzled over the subtle dynamics, he sensed that Bartimos harbored certain expectations of him. Nevertheless, he remained indifferent to it.

Tightening his smile, Rhaegar graciously replied, "Your assistance is greatly appreciated, my lord."

Bartimus's smile remained as he affirmed, "I shall ensure that the ships are prepared promptly for the journey to Crackclaw Point."

Only then did Lyonel emerge from his reverie. Casting a glance at Bartimos, he subtly lowered his head, opting to maintain a modest profile.

With his well-honed political acumen, Lyonel discerned that the prince's return to Dragonstone Island would likely provoke significant upheaval. Given the circumstances, it was necessary to exercise caution and refrain from drawing attention to himself.

...

Two days later, three majestic sailing ships set sail from Crackclaw Point, their decks crowded with ragged but determined souls bound for Dragonstone.

A resounding dragon's roar pierced the air, and massive wings eclipsed the ships it soared into the skies.

Standing atop the ship's prow, Rhaegar looked at the endless expanse of sea.

Lyonel approached from behind, his voice a whisper amidst the wind, "Prince, word arrived last night by raven: the princess has returned to King's Landing in secret, escorted to the Red Keep by the Kingsguard for safety."

"Is she attempting to utilize the dragons to locate me?" Rhaegar pondered aloud, his thoughts drifting to Syrax's confinement within the dragon's pit.

"Yes, the princess has been fraught with worry since the dragon incident that fateful night," Lyonel murmured empathetically.

"Once I've met with my father, I shall swiftly journey to King's Landing to reunite with Rhaenyra."

Rhaegar's lips curved into a knowing smile, acknowledging the myriad advantages of dragon ownership, particularly in matters of expediency.

Suddenly, a thunderous dragon's roar rent the air, echoing from above. Rhaegar raised his gaze skyward to behold the Cannibal's imposing form, its gaze fixed intently on the horizon, as if issuing a warning.

In response, a second, less formidable roar reverberated through the air, prompting the occupants of the ships—both freemen and sailors—to emerge from their cabins, gazing upward in awe and trepidation at the spectacle unfolding above.

In the distance, a golden dragon emerged into view, capturing the attention of the onlookers below.

Perched upon the dragon's back was a young girl adorned in a sleek black dragon barding.

Rhaegar's heart leapt at the sight of the golden dragon, his excitement palpable.

Spotting the girl atop the dragon, Rhaenyra, he couldn't contain his shock and cried out, "Rhaenyra!"

Unaware of his presence, Rhaenyra's attention was drawn to the Cannibal, the imposing black dragon now under Rhaegar's command.

Her gaze momentarily flickered down to the trio of ships sailing below, hoping to catch sight of Rhaegar.

Sensing it's rider's agitation, Cannibal set aside its hostility toward the other dragon and descended gracefully to sea level.

With claws slicing through the waves, the Cannibal surged toward the large ship carrying Rhaegar.

In a breathtaking maneuver, the dragon's head soared upward as its colossal body ascended into the sky.

With practiced precision, the long tail swept up Rhaegar, who awaited on his armor, before gently placing him upon its back.

Seated astride the dragon, Rhaenyra urged the her dragon, drawing closer to Rhaegar in mid-air.

A resounding roar echoed through the air as the Cannibal, dwarfing its counterpart in size, confronted Syrax, the golden-scaled dragon, causing it to tense and emit a warning roar.

Witnessing the spectacle from her vantage point, Rhaenyra's excitement grew as she recognized Rhaegar's figure, exclaiming, "Rhaegar!"

With a gentle touch, she reassured Syrax in High Valyrian, soothing its nerves.

Before long, Rhaegar was airborne, riding alongside Rhaenyra on her golden dragon.

The two dragons faced each other in the vast expanse of the sky, one black and the other golden brown, while Rhaenyra and Rhaegar exchanged glances.

Rhaenyra's appearance spoke volumes—her disheveled hair, reddened eyes, and worn countenance betraying the turmoil within as she gazed unwaveringly at Rhaegar.

"Rhaegar..." Her voice faltered, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

Rhaegar returned his sister's gaze, his eyes alight with the joy of their reunion, and exclaimed in astonishment, "Sister, I thought you were still confined within the Red Keep. What brings you here?"

Struggling to maintain her posture amid her evident distress, Rhaenyra's voice wavered as she replied, "I couldn't bear to be apart from you any longer. They couldn't stop me, not yet."

Rhaegar was deeply moved by her determination.

Upon closer observation, he noted the toll that recent events had taken on Rhaenyra.

Compared to their last meeting, fatigue lingered beneath her eyes, mingling with the telltale signs of sleepless nights.

With a soft voice, Rhaegar called out, "Sister..."

Rhaenyra's eyes welled up with tears as she spoke solemnly, "Come back with me, Rhaegar."

"Of course, I've missed you all dearly," Rhaegar responded, his tone gentle and reassuring.

Obediently, he followed Rhaenyra's lead as she directed Syrax towards Dragonstone Island.

"Let's follow suit, Cannibal," Rhaegar said with a warm smile, guiding the dragon to trail behind Syrax, their forms weaving amidst the billowing clouds.

Although vastly disparate in age and size, the two dragons moved in tandem through the skies.

Rhaenyra maintained a cautious distance, mindful not to unsettle Rhaegar's mount.

Despite the circumstances, Rhaegar felt a swell of happiness; this was their inaugural flight together, a moment to cherish amid the turbulence of their current reality.

...

Before long, the two siblings disembarked from their respective dragons, leaving the ship behind as they arrived at Dragonstone Island well ahead of schedule.

Syrax, who had maintained a wary vigilance in the presence of Cannibal during their journey, landed eagerly on the cliffs adjacent to the beach, while Rhaenyra kept a watchful eye on her brother.

Upon seeing her touch down, Rhaegar attempted to follow suit, but Cannibal shook its head adamantly, refusing to land and instead opting to circle the sky above.

Realization dawned on Rhaegar: there were still two adult dragons on Dragonstone Island harboring deep-seated animosity towards Cannibal.

Recalling their previous dragon skirmish, Rhaegar's heart quickened with anticipation, though he steeled himself for the confrontation ahead.

With a reassuring pat to Cannibal's spine, he murmured, "Let's do this, old friend. Show them what you're made of."

In response, Cannibal snorted defiantly, spreading its mighty wings wide and arching its neck as dragon flames brewed within its throat.

"Roar..."

In an instant, Cannibal unleashed a deafening roar that reverberated across Dragonstone Island, its fiery breath painting the sky with vibrant hues, heralding the return of the strongest wild dragon.

"Roar... Roar..."

Echoing its cry, two other dragon roars soon pierced the air, tinged with the unmistakable fury of provocation.

Perched atop Cannibal's back, Rhaegar surveyed the rugged terrain below, awaiting the arrival of adversaries long absent.

Before long, two colossal dragons of varying hues emerged from the mountains, soaring skyward with determined purpose.

One bore a resplendent bronze hue, its eyes ablaze with fury, its formidable presence akin to that of a seasoned predator - Vermithor.

The other, a light green dragon, bore the scars of past battles, a chunk missing from its neck and one wing hanging limp - Silverwing, struggling but resolute in its ascent.