The King’s Road
It took ten minutes, but Gaemon’s mind slowly adapted to the sensory overload.
Buri even slowed down his trot and became concerned for Gaemon’s sake.
Once Gaemon was settled and no longer felt as though he were on a rollercoaster, with everything far too clear for him to process comfortably, he let Buri know.
The direwolf promptly returned to his trot.
Gaemon remained silent as Buri made his way through the thick canopy of trees.
The occasional howl of wolves and roar of bears echoed from afar, breaking the otherwise peaceful sounds of the wilderness.
Time passed as Gaemon, who occupied the passenger seat within the mind of his direwolf, enjoyed the quiet raw beauty of the North through the eyes of an apex predator roaming these vast forests.
It might have been an hour, perhaps two—Gaemon could not tell—but they were eventually forced to halt.
The quiet of the wild broke apart beneath growls and the snapping of jaws.
Buri calmly turned his head toward the source of the noise and saw many almond-shaped eyes watching him from between the trees.
One of them, either the boldest among them or perhaps their leader, stood before the rest and growled the loudest, as though trying to convince itself that it was stronger than Buri.
Buri mulled over what he should do with these weak little wolves of lesser blood than his own.
Should he kill them all and eat them?
Or should he let them go after killing their leader?
Slowly, Buri advanced toward the leader, the difference in size between them becoming increasingly obvious as the distance closed.
The wolf that had seemed so brave moments before began backing away inch by inch, its pride warring with its survival instincts.
Gaemon, seated in the back seat and observing the entire affair, saw the look of desperation and cornered fear in the leader’s eyes and immediately alerted Buri.
Before the leader could act, Buri released a growl—one deeper, harsher, and far more savage than anything the entire pack could muster together.
Every one of Buri’s teeth was visible as the direwolf snarled dangerously at the smaller wolf before him.
That seemed to be the final straw.
The leader tucked its tail between its hind legs.
The moment it turned and made a desperate dash in the opposite direction, away from Buri, the direwolf immediately sprang forward with jaws wide open.
Knowing exactly what would happen next, Gaemon withdrew his consciousness and returned to his own body.
Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at the ceiling of his chamber and immediately felt the sheer loss of power he had grown accustomed to during the last few hours inside Buri’s body.
Gaemon’s Six Eyes noticed that his magic, which smelled of sulfur mixed with earth and a faint trace of animal musk, was changing.
The scent of the animal musk was steadily growing stronger, attempting to overwhelm the other two smells entirely.
There was also foreign magic inside his body now—at first, he thought perhaps it is ambient mana that had been absorbed into it.
Though that thought didn’t remain longer than a moment, as with the help of his six eyes, he analyzed magic and its smell.
The smell, color, and nature of the magic itself spoke for themselves.
Gaemon, who had been staring blankly at the ceiling with the expression of someone who had lost something precious, came to a realization.
He was not immune to the dangerous side effects of skinchanging for extended periods.
Noticing the subtle changes in both his behavior and the nature of his magic, Gaemon carefully filed the information away in his mind before shaking his head.
Next time, he would have to search for a method to protect himself from the influence of Buri’s mind.
Tired both physically and mentally, Gaemon finally closed his eyes after spending a few more moments thinking about warging magic.
Though not before concluding that it would likely be more than a moon before Buri reached King’s Landing at the pace his direwolf was currently traveling.
The Next day,
Morning
Viserys might not be as enthusiastic in the pursuit of arms as his younger brother Daemon, but that does not mean he lacks discipline and gets up late.
On the contrary, his duties as King even pushed him to wake earlier than his brother Daemon does, and so with time and quiet on his hands, Viserys takes a stroll through the gardens Aemma tended every day.
Watching Aemma care for her plants as the sun peeked over the horizon only motivated him further to rise early.
Not that his own hunger would let him sleep much longer, regardless.
Viserys passed through the yard, his eyes absentmindedly glancing over a few city guards honing their skills.
Turning his attention back toward the training grounds, Viserys witnessed a sight that made his eyes widen.
He blinked several times, checking and rechecking to confirm that what he was seeing was real and not some strange dream from which he had yet to awaken.
His nephew, Gaemon, was running laps around the yard wearing a small suit of armor that looked specially made for him.
Though slightly taller than most children his age, Gaemon still presented a sight that naturally drew every eye.
Viserys wondered how he had somehow missed his nephew running around the yard this early in the morning clad in steel plate armor.
Squinting his eyes, Viserys made out the sigil engraved upon the armor—a direwolf.
“Some of them say he was the first to arrive, even before the earliest knight came for his daily practice.
Well, at least his northern cousins managed one thing right that I can approve of.”
Viserys turned toward the familiar voice behind him.
Daemon stood there watching his son with obvious satisfaction and pride on his face.
“Isn’t he too young?
I have read that training at such an age might stunt his growth,” Viserys remarked.
“Lies.
There is no such thing as too early if you wish to rise above mediocrity. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
And you say it might stunt his growth?
He claims he has been doing this for months, and look at him.
He is already taller and broader than most children his age could ever dream of being.
I think he inherited that build from our late father.” Daemon replied, a proud smirk on his face as he watched Gaemon continue to push himself despite looking exhausted to the core.
“After seeing this, I wager you will rethink your decision to send him with me to Dragonstone.”
“I have no issue with Gaemon going with you to Dragonstone for the cremation, Daemon.
But only for that and to see our ancestral seat, nothing more.
I still think he is too young to attempt bonding with dragons.” Viserys answered firmly, refusing to budge from his decision.
“Why do you stop me, brother?
I know for certain Gaemon could bond with any dragon he chooses.
His name would go down in history as the youngest dragonrider.
Let my son have that glory, brother.” Daemon urged, frustration plain on his face.
“I cannot risk my nephew’s life for glory, Daemon.
I stand by my decision, and you would do well not to go against it.
I would not forgive you easily if I discovered that anything I expressly forbade took place during your stay there.”
Viserys rejected the request and resumed his walk.
He had yet to break his fast.
Behind him, he could hear Daemon cursing and taunting him, but Viserys deigned to keep walking rather than rise to his brother’s provocations.
Sending one final glance toward his still-running nephew, Viserys turned left and made his way back toward Maegor’s Holdfast.
Truth be told, Viserys also believed that Gaemon had a chance of bonding with a dragon at his age.
And Viserys, too, wanted his nephew to bask in the glory of becoming the youngest dragonrider in the history of House Targaryen.
But Otto’s words when Daemon first proposed the idea, coupled with Aemma’s agreement, had kept Viserys from accepting his brother’s request.
Daemon had always been more ambitious than either of them, and though only a few days had passed since Viserys’s coronation, Viserys found his brother’s roguish tendencies becoming more apparent with each passing day.
Only the Seven knew what Daemon might do with two dragons under his influence, while Viserys himself remained dragonless, and Rhaenyra possessed no dragon either.
Viserys could not take the risk of granting Daemon such power, even though he still trusted his brother to a degree.
That did not mean, however, that he intended to leave Gaemon dragonless forever.
His nephew would have a dragon of his own.
But only once he came of age, and Daemon’s influence over him does not remain as absolute as it remains in Gaemon’s younger years.
Who knows?
I wonder if this one will earn me more stone, so I can upload a chapter that is waiting to be dropped tomorrow.