[AELOR’S POV]
In the week after King Jaehaerys and Prince Aemon left for the Red Keep in King’s Landing to tend to the needs of the realm, Baelon and I spent our days playing with Ancalagon.
We spent our free time swimming in the lake, fishing, and exploring the castle of Harrenhal before the renovations began and the name was changed.
Of course, our training was not neglected.
Every morning before we played, we went to the training yard, where Baelon and I had, in a way, traded instructors.
Rysio began to instruct Baelon after the prince learned that Rysio was my tutor and asked to be taught the same things I was.
Rysio saw no harm in it, and he did not want to refuse a prince of the realm either.
By the end of the first morning, Baelon was complaining that water dancing was nothing but footwork and that his calves burned worse than his arms ever had.
“It looks like walking, my prince, until you try to do it while holding a sword and standing on one foot,” Rysio told him calmly.
Meanwhile, Ser Ryam, who had been Baelon’s instructor until then, began to spar with me.
He wanted to merge the stances and techniques that water dancing had taught me into his much more traditional Westerosi fighting style.
He had me show him a flowing pivot, tried it himself, and grumbled when it tangled his feet.
Ser Ryam also began to introduce other weapons to me, like the mace, morningstar, warhammer, and spear.
We focused on the basics first.
He said that if I wanted to learn how to fight against these weapons, I should at least be able to wield them, even if I never mastered them, just well enough to use them properly.
The more I learned about these weapons, the more excited I became about the spear.
I wanted to fight like Achilles in the movie Troy, played by Brad Pitt.
His spear fight is one of my favorite choreographed fights in all of cinema.
‘I will master the spear until I can be called a Spartan for it,’ I could not help thinking.
I was standing in front of Ser Ryam as he showed me the proper stances for using one.
“The proper stance is to point the spear at your enemy’s eye or throat level. That keeps threatening his vision and protects your own upper body. You must also let the shaft slide smoothly through your hands rather than gripping it tight and stiff,” Ser Ryam said, correcting some minor details of my stance.
He then showed me how to strike and place the spear.
After a few demonstrations, seeing that I learned quickly, he began to spar with me, slowing his pace to match mine.
My palms were already sore from the shaft, but I did not want to stop.
“That is not bad for a boy your age,” Ser Ryam admitted grudgingly, “but you still think like a dancer.”
In the middle of our sparring, my mother arrived in the yard with Jory.
She was wearing her riding clothes, which I rarely saw her wear.
The last time had been when she visited my sister Rhaella in Oldtown.
Ser Ryam and Rysio stopped what they were doing and bowed to Princess Rhaena.
Baelon inclined his head to his aunt and then looked at her in confusion, the same as I did.
“Mother? Are you going flying again?” I asked as she stopped in front of me, with Jory at her side.
“Yes, and I would like you to fly with me. The saddle I had made for Ancalagon is finally finished. I want to keep an eye on you and make sure you do not do anything stupid, and I will teach you what to do while flying with your dragon,” my mother said.
“Aunt Rhaena, may I come too?” Baelon asked hopefully.
“Not today, Baelon. Neither saddle is made for a second rider, and I will not take a prince of the realm into the sky without your father’s leave,” she answered gently.
Baelon nodded, though his jaw tightened.
I agreed at once. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Jory handed me a box containing my riding clothes, which were white and blue, my favorite colors, as my mother well knew.
Before going to change, I called Ancalagon to the yard with my mind so she could be fitted with the saddle.
I told her to let the handlers strap it on while I went to a room to change.
[THIRD PERSON POV]
Aelor needed no more than ten minutes to change into his new riding clothes.
The fitted leather was white, with blue trim at the collar and cuffs, and he only had to ask for help with the boot laces.
In the yard, Ancalagon’s cooperation let the dragonkeepers fit the heavy leather saddle quickly.
Princess Rhaena and Dreamfyre were also ready.
The older dragon had landed in the same yard only moments earlier, as if she had felt the silent call of her rider.
“Are you ready?” Princess Rhaena asked her son.
Aelor answered with an eager grin.
Seeing his eagerness, Princess Rhaena carefully climbed up the scaled side of Dreamfyre while Aelor mounted Ancalagon.
Ancalagon was rapidly catching up to Dreamfyre in size, and she let out a loud, excited cry at the thought of the coming flight.
Both riders were chained to their seats and tightly harnessed.
The castle dragonkeepers checked the entire leather rig twice to guarantee their safety, much to Ancalagon’s vocal annoyance.
When the men overseeing the harnessing finally deemed the saddles ready, Princess Rhaena gave the signal.
Aelor listened closely as his mother shouted.
“Soves, Dreamfyre!”
Aelor watched Dreamfyre launch toward the open sky.
In response, he sent a silent command through the bond for Ancalagon to follow his mother.
Ancalagon took off more easily than Dreamfyre had, launching herself into the air with grace.
The two dragonriders quickly left the gathered onlookers behind.
Down in the yard, Prince Baelon felt a sharp pang of envy.
His younger cousin was already mounting and flying a dragon, despite his young age.
‘I will claim a dragon soon as well,’ Prince Baelon thought with deep determination.
He stayed where he was and watched the two dragons climb toward the clouds.
[AELOR’S POV]
Up in the open sky, I watched my mother fly gracefully on Dreamfyre while I flew close beside her on Ancalagon.
She called instructions to me over the wind: keep my knees tight, lean into the turns, and trust the harness instead of gripping the saddle.
The wind bit at my cheeks, and heat rolled up through the saddle from Ancalagon’s body, carrying the faint smell of smoke and sulfur.
There was something deeply euphoric in the way Ancalagon and Dreamfyre moved through the air, and it reminded me once again of what it felt like to be completely free.
That was a huge exaggeration, but the relief I felt carried the same emotion.
It truly felt as if I had always been meant to fly among the clouds with my dragon.
Below us, the Gods Eye glittered like hammered silver, the ruined towers of the castle stood dark against the green land, and the city spread out around their feet.
Dreamfyre let out a deafening roar that shook the air around us, and Ancalagon answered with her own.
Through our bond, I felt that Ancalagon believed she was being challenged to a race.
I watched my mother shift her weight in the saddle and settle into position right before Dreamfyre suddenly accelerated.
I gave Ancalagon a silent command to follow, and the two dragons began a thrilling game of chase across the sky.
Throughout the race, I carefully steered Ancalagon to avoid any risk of colliding with Dreamfyre.
I did not want to turn a peaceful morning flight into a tragedy.
Then I had Ancalagon perform a full barrel roll, modeled on the acrobatics of the fighter jet pilots in the flight practice videos I had watched on YouTube in my past life.
But my mother clearly did not like me doing dangerous tricks so soon.
Thanks to my passive telepathy, I could feel her anxiety and fear for my safety.
I corrected my posture and leveled Ancalagon out.
She and Dreamfyre flew peacefully side by side, and my mother and I silently enjoyed the view of our vast territory from above.
After perhaps an hour of flight, my mother had Dreamfyre breathe a burst of fire to get my attention.
When I felt the wave of heat, I looked over.
She was gesturing for us to turn around and head home, an order I wisely decided to follow.
We descended until we were visible to the people on the ground, and I began to hear cheering echoing from below.
I knew at once that it came from the smallfolk of the city.
They knew the two dragons would never hurt them, and they were used to seeing the giant beasts fly overhead.
But as we dropped lower over the city, I heard the crowds shouting my name.
Children ran through the streets waving scraps of cloth over their heads.
They had seen that I was finally riding Ancalagon, and they cheered even louder for their young lord.
When Dreamfyre and Ancalagon finally landed in the dirt yard where we had begun, the waiting dragonkeepers rushed forward and helped my mother and me down from our saddles.
My legs felt unsteady on solid ground.
“How was your first official flight?” my mother asked.
She had clearly noticed the grin plastered on my face.
“It is the greatest feeling in the world,” I answered truthfully.
She seemed to agree, humming softly and nodding in understanding.
“We will go over your turns tomorrow,” she added, “and you will not attempt any more barrel rolls until I say so.”
Baelon was waiting at the edge of the yard, and as we passed he asked for every detail of the flight, though his eyes never left the sky.
Dreamfyre and Ancalagon took flight again to stretch their wings while my mother and I walked together toward the stone entrance of our castle.