Gaelithox

The dragon rose, its form casting a shadow across the sky, dark wings unfurling like a storm ready to sweep over the world. As it ascended, a piercing trill tore through the air, reverberating with a power that sent shivers down Aerion's spine. The sound felt—otherworldly.

Aerion's breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide with awe and fear. He could feel the weight of it—the sheer majesty of the creature—bearing down on him. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

Rhaenyra turned, her wide eyed gaze locking onto the beast, but Aerion barely registered her presence. His entire being was consumed by the sight of the dragon.

His heartbeat thudded in his ears like a war drum. 

Without thinking, he stepped around the Princess, his body moving of its own accord. His walk quickened, each step more urgent than the last until it became a jog, then a frantic run. 

He could hear Rhaenyra calling his name, her voice sharp with confusion, but it barely penetrated the roar in his ears—something inside him needed to see it up close, to feel the fire in his veins burn as hot as the dragon's breath.

His boots squeaked against the polished floors, the sound too loud in the castle's cold silence. He raced past startled servants, his eyes locked on the balcony ahead.

Quickly, he burst through the doors, caring not for the way they slammed violently against the walls. The salty air of Dragonstone rushed over him, but he barely acknowledged it—the burning in his veins was too intense, too consuming.

The dragon was rising, its midnight-black wings spreading wide. Larger than Syrax, its form was too far away to see any real details. Its scales almost shining a dark purple in the sun. 

Aerion's heart pounded. He knew this dragon—he'd seen it before, in dreams, in visions.

Quickly, Aerion scanned his surroundings, then looked down over the balcony railing—realising the ground was too far to jump. Frustration flared within him, hot and foreign, almost animalistic. With a sharp breath, he turned and sprinted back through the castle, determined to find another way.

He needed to see the dragon up close.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he raced through the winding halls of Dragonstone, his feet pounding against the stone floors. The castle seemed endless, its labyrinth of corridors disorienting, but he pushed forward, driven by a force he couldn't fully explain.

Finally, he emerged into a familiar courtyard. The vast space felt strangely empty, with only one presence there—Rhaenyra's dragon, Syrax.

Aerion's gaze flicked to the golden beast, her green eyes locked on the sky, tense and alert. Syrax, usually calm, was rigid, her gaze fixed on the dragon above. But Aerion's attention was drawn upward, pulled irresistibly to the dark, ominous figure looming over them.

The midnight dragon had stopped rising. Its wings beat with unparalleled grace as it angled toward them. A stab of fear pierced through Aerion's chest, but it was quickly consumed by something else—anticipation, excitement, and the wild thudding of his heart.

Syrax hissed, her body tense as she scrambled backward, her wings spread wide as if to make herself appear larger, more imposing. The sound was sharp, primal, vibrating through the courtyard.

Aerion felt the air shift, his breath catching as the dark dragon's immense form swooped closer. The beast just above the castle, a shadow spreading across the courtyard. 

Rhaenyra burst through the courtyard doors, her eyes immediately locking onto Aerion and Syrax, alarm spreading across her face.

Without hesitation, Aerion shot his hand out, palm open, signalling her to stop. His heart raced as the dragon above descended, and for a split second, everything seemed to freeze.

Then, with a thunderous crash, the dark dragon landed in the courtyard. The ground shook violently as its claws dug trenches into the stone, Syrax's roar splitting the air in response. 

But the dark dragon didn't care for that, it had stopped metres away from Aerion. The dust covered both of their forms from one another, when it settled they met eyes.

Dark purple eyes clashed with one another. 

Aerions breath caught and goosebumps raised on his arms as his eyes scanned the dragon from up close. 

Its body was sleek and streamlined. Large deep scars were carved into the beast's face, old wounds that had healed long ago. 

Unlike most dragons, fins like those of a sea predator ran along its form, giving it an otherworldly, aquatic grace.

Its head, more angular than any other Aerion had seen, was sharply aerodynamic, it suggested speed and precision in the air. Where most dragons had brutish, rectangular skulls, this one looked as if it was built for cutting through the skies. 

Multiple horns grew from its head, each growing straight back, each horn seemed to add to the silhouette of the beast, making the creature appear regal.

Aerion stepped forward, his breath becoming oddly shallow as the dragon emitted a warbling sound—an eerie, haunting call reminiscent of a whale's song, echoing through the courtyard. The sound seemed to vibrate in his bones, drawing him in closer with an irresistible pull.

As he reached out with a trembling hand, his heart raced in sync with the dragons. Their eyes locked, and in that instant, the world around him blurred into a kaleidoscope of colour.

He felt himself pulled into a different reality—an overwhelming flood of emotions surged through him, leaving him breathless. His bones felt heavier but lighter as the same time, warmth radiated through him, 

He looked down at his real human body, standing eerily still as fire seemed to fill his veins, lava coiling around his body as he wished to break free, spread his wings and fly. 

Excitement surged within him, a tantalising thrill of potential flight, only to be suffocated by sudden, unwelcome confusion. The dragon's instincts flooded his mind, wrestling with his own thoughts in a chaotic struggle that left him dizzy.

And then there was the pain—a deep, aching throb radiating from the dragon's snout, a reminder of its recent break through the Dragonmount. 

Deeper than that was the pain of the scars, burning with the memories of his sire. The large black, mangled rotting dragon that stalked him through the caves. 

Aerion snarled, shaking his head as if to dislodge the sensation and memories, but it only intensified, wrapping around him like a tightening coil. The glueing of their minds felt both exhilarating and horrifying, a dizzying descent into the dragon's mind.

He teetered on the edge, caught in the sea of emotions that weren't his own, struggling to maintain his identity as the dragon's thoughts threatened to consume him entirely.

"Aerion" a soft muffled voice called worriedly from afar.

The world came rushing back in a violent wave. Aerion jolted awake, his body trembling as though he had been pulled from the depths of an ocean. His heart raced, each beat echoing in his ears.

His gaze settled on the dragon, a flicker of platinum blonde in his peripheral going I noticed as he blinked quickly in realisation. 

He hadn't simply stumbled into the dragon's mind; it had pulled him in, it had been wrapping itself around his consciousness with a foreign intimacy before he was released.

It knew him. 

While he'd been dreaming of this dragon, it had been dreaming of him. The thought sent an icy cold chill down his spine,

His eyes focused on the dragon ahead, his chest rising rapidly as he gasped desperately. 

The dragon's snout loomed close, its hot breath brushing against his skin. He swallowed as he tried to steel his building nerves, memories of being absorbed and suffocated by the dragon's mind running through his head.

His trembling hand outstretched, slowly reaching toward the snout of the regal beast. Each inch felt like a lifetime, the anticipation thick in the air.

His palm connected and then cautiously ran against the rough, scratched, and sharp dark scales. The sheer heat of the beast radiated up his arm, a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold tension in his muscles. His heartbeat began to slow, a surprising calm washing over him despite the intensity of the moment.

The dragon leaned forward into the touch, its colossal head gently knocking him back a step. Aerion felt a surge of excitement building in his chest, a breathy laugh escaping his lips, a mixture of relief and exhilaration.

The dragon's eyes fluttered shut, its fins fluttering as it released an ethereal warble that seemed to resonate through the gigantic courtyard. 

The sound was hauntingly beautiful, echoing Aerion's own amazement. His laughter eventually ceased, replaced by a serene silence as his right hand continued to trace the rough snout.

He swallowed, his eyes wandering back over the dragon's form. Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing his head gently against the dark, scarred snout. The closeness intensified the connection, every breath shared between them.

Aerion closed his eyes, the heat radiating from the beast oddly calming. Memories of being in the dragon's mind began to replay through his thoughts, a flood of images and emotions intertwining with his own.

"Iksā ñuhon, iksan aōhon" he whispered in High Valyrian, the words flowing smoothly from his tongue.

'You are mine, I am yours'

The dragon let out another high-pitched warble, seemingly responding to the invocation. Aerion felt an unspoken understanding bridging their minds.

"Gaelithox," he whispered, invoking the name of the Valyrian god who embodied fire and the celestial bodies themselves.