Author note at the end.
The wind swept across the endless stretch of green, cool and clean against my skin.
The low-hanging sun poured its warmth over me like a hot cup of milk on a cold morning.
So peaceful.
So quiet.
Not another human soul in sight.
Was this the closest a man could get to heaven?
Above us the clouds drifted slowly across the deep blue like a herd of sheep, the sun their distant, unhurried shepherd.
“Half a mind I have,” I murmured, absently running my fingers over the warm scales pressed against my stomach, “to leave all of it behind, the throne, the mind games and the wars that haven’t even started yet and just… fly away with you and never look back.”
Tessarion shifted closer, the heat of her throat gathering against my side as she pressed into me with a low, contented rumble.
“But where would we even go?” I asked the open sky.
“Essos? A dragonriding prince and his dragon would stand out like a beacon the moment we landed. Once the war begins, it would only be a matter of time before someone decided we were a loose end that needed cutting, Assassins would be hired, they’d come for the succession, or just to root out a threat they couldn’t control.”
I exhaled slowly.
“The mountains of the Vale, maybe, they are high and cold and full of places to disappear, we could hide there for a while, long enough to find a life but even that wouldn’t last forever, eventually someone would come looking. And if we ever wanted to return…” I trailed off, the thought unfinished.
“There would be no returning, not really.”
Her tail shifted through the grass with a soft rustle.
“Further north? Beyond the Wall? Freeze our asses off in the snow while wildlings and worse things try to decide whether we’re gods or meat? Would you even cross The Wall?”
She did not answer and I continued.
“The Free Cities are no better, everywhere we go, someone eventually wants to have a dick measuring contest against us. A dragon is never just a dragon to them.”
I pressed my forehead lightly against her warm scales.
“Is it really too much to ask?” My voice dropped quieter.
“For everyone to just… leave me alone, so I can lay here, spend whatever coin they give me, watch the clouds and not have to think about which of my relatives is going to try and kill me next, or how many people will burn because of a chair made of swords.”
Whoever put me here, God, Satan, some bored cosmic clerk with a sense of humor, was a cruel bastard.
They had given me comfort, soft beds, good food, a name that opened doors and a dragon that answered when I called, enough gold that I would never have to understand what real want felt like.
And then they made sure I arrived too late for any of it to matter.
The wind moved through the grass in soft waves.
Tessarion remained still, listening in the way only she ever seemed to.
“I know what they see when they look at you,” I said after a long moment, gently resting my palm against the side of her nose.
“You and your sisters, weapons. Siege engines with wings, things to be pointed at cities and armies, but you’re not, you’re just… alive. Another living thing that’s been pulled into our messes and used for whatever we decide we need.”
My thumb brushed slowly over a ridge of scale.
“As long as I still breathe,” I said quietly, “no one will harm you, not while I’m here.”
Tessarion suddenly tilted her great head and snorted a warm, dismissive breath straight against my chest, the dragon equivalent of a raised eyebrow.
As if to say, ‘Buddy.
I’m the majestic one here.
You’re just the puny inbred kid who happens to sit on my back.’ Get faster updates on g.com.
A short, unwilling laugh escaped me.
My laugh died slowly as the memories of Kingslanding came rushing back.
That single week I had spent there, I really had tried to connect with my so-called brothers.
Aegon was… complicated.
Innocent in the way only the truly pampered can be, or maybe just irresponsibly lazy.
Surrounded by lickspittles he called friends, he drifted through his days looking for the next thing that would make him feel something.
Usually that meant getting his dick sucked or drinking until the world blurred.
He was the living embodiment of the classic rich-brat trope, the kind you’d see in every bad teen drama.
And yet there was something almost childlike underneath it all, like he was still waiting for someone to actually care what he wanted instead of what he could be used for.
I felt an ugly twist of guilt every time I thought about Cassandra.
In a way, I was partly responsible for her ending up married to that twat.
Aemond, on the other hand… where do I even begin?
The boy was a walking collection of issues, festering mommy issues, a massive asshole complex.
The stereotypical bad boy who secretly just wanted to be loved but had no idea how to ask for it without setting something on fire.
Half the time I had no idea where he even was, he carried this wall of unapproachability around him like armor, as if his bitterness was leaking out through every pore.
If he ever came to the throne, it would be a disaster, a tyrannical rule born from years of being overlooked and underestimated.
I could already picture it.
And the worst part?
I almost entirely blamed Viserys and Alicent for how both of them turned out.
Everyone at court knew Viserys favored Rhaenyra above all else.
Everyone saw how Alicent poured her hopes and attention into Aegon while Aemond got the scraps.
How would you feel if you weren’t even the second-favorite child of your own parents?
It would suck the life out of anyone.
So they sucked right back.
I stared out at the horizon, the weight of those short days in Kingslanding still clinging to me like smoke.
I had tried.
I really had.
But some fractures ran too deep to mend in a single week, and some people had already decided exactly who they were going to be.
The question was whether I could live with watching them become it.
I turned toward the west.
The sun had sunk low against the hills, painting everything in soft gold.
That way lay Oldtown, warm light, familiar streets, and the quiet men who still cared whether I lived or died.
A place where I could still pretend, for a little while longer, that the coming storm belonged to someone else.
I turned toward the east.
Dark clouds hung heavy there, already swallowing the last of the light, as if the sky itself was warning me what waited in that direction.
Kingslanding.
If I returned to the capital… I could gather support for the Greens while there was still time.
Whatever I have done till now, it did not equal the board as I wished.
Maybe I could keep a closer eye on Rhaenys.
Try to cut off Blood and Cheese before that particular horror ever took shape.
Maybe even reach for something larger, marry a Martell princess, Dorne brought into the fold the way my future namesake eventually would.
That kind of move could carve my name into the histories.
The only real question was whether any Martell would actually agree to marry me, a third prince with nothing to inherit.
And if none of it worked… there was always Dragonstone.
Go there as a guest, keep my head down until the useless king finally died, then step forward, renounce every claim in front of enough witnesses that it stuck, and become a well-guarded prisoner while the rest of my family tore the realm apart.
Survive till the end and watch the ashes.
Live with the knowledge that I had chosen the safest road and let everyone else burn.
Am I selfish enough to choose the easy road?
I would like to believe I am.
That I could turn my back, fly west, and let the realm sort out its own bloodshed.
But the truth sat heavier than that.
I wasn’t.
“Responsibility or comfort?” I asked the quiet air between us.
Tessarion let out a low, dismissive snort, warm breath washing over my shoulder, the dragon equivalent of an unimpressed look.
As if to say she already knew which one I was going to pick… and that arguing about it was a waste of both our time.
I closed my eyes for a moment and exhaled.
Yeah.
I already knew too.
Sorry, I planned to update this yesterday but I couldn’t.
I was too busy thinking about Spider-Man: BND.
No spoilers, don’t worry.
Oh man, what a movie, I think that was one of the most comic book movies I have seen but tell me I’m not the only one that felt so much Andrew energy every time Spider-Man was on screen.
The swinging, the movement, the dialogues.
Anyway, have a good read, also..
if you have questions, ask me in the comments, I’ll let you know.
Also readers who think, he is becoming like every other mc out there, playing the game, I don’t think you understood the summary quite right.