Chapter 14: The Black Dragon

The journey to Dragonstone and then to Duskendale had been profitable. Metaphorically, anyway. Between ransoming my arms and armor and buying a horse that died just hours later, I had barely managed to earn a scant few silvers in profit. 

Sure, I could have tried to ransom the equipment of every knight that had yielded to me in the joust, but that would have killed all the goodwill I had earned on that little adventure and then some.

So, I smiled and moved on with my life.

Because in the other sense, the journey had been very profitable. I had tamed one of the largest dragons alive, 'won' a joust while still two years shy of my majority, 'saved' a crowd of onlookers from a 'wild' dragon, and had been excused from having to watch the archery contest to 'tame' said dragon.

A shame I had to leave before father had a chance to knight me… or perhaps this was his way of avoiding having to knight me.

Well, I could hardly win at everything.

"Your Grace, I know this dragon spoiled the competition, but perhaps you might want to take a day to recover?" Ser Rykker asked from beside me, having taken the position of honor to my right by virtue of seniority. And having been allowed the place by right of not being a complete ass to my face. "The maesters recommend rest after vigorous exercise. Would a single day make so much difference?"

"My father proclaimed to all the feasters that I would leave today, Ser," I reminded him, keeping my eyes focused squarely on the dunes we rode along. I was trying to find the beach where I had landed after my first flight with the Cannibal, fool's errand though it was. One dune was much like another, after all. 

"And we would not want to disappoint His Grace, now, would we? More importantly, dragons fly. A single day and the Cannibal may be at Rook's Rest. I need to move quickly if I want to find him today."

"The… Cannibal, Your Grace?" The aged knight asked. It seemed that the identity of the beast was not exactly common knowledge.

"He prefers to prey on eggs and young dragons," I explained. "Though he does have a worrying tendency to eat people, too… and cattle, and mutton for that matter. But it's the cannibalism that catches the eyes, hence the name."

"I understand, Your Grace." The aged knight nodded solemnly, unfazed by the new information. "Just remember to rest later. Men may not cripple as easily as horses, but I have seen it happen too often in my time."

A worrywart, was he? How kind of him, but I had enough of those in my life.

"You worry too much, Ser!" Ser Rosby commented, spurring his horse onwards to keep pace draw up alongside me. His tone had sweetened after I had 'saved' him and generously refused to take his horse in exchange for the horse he had killed. 

"We young cannot afford to sit idle when there are things to do, foes to vanquish, monsters to face, maidens to woo." A boisterous laugh accompanied the declaration, taken up by the other knights.

Knights who had decided to follow me as I tracked down the Cannibal, ostensibly to witness me 'tame' the great beast. 

Though I had warned them it was likely to involve a lot of wandering around the countryside surrounding the city asking every passing group if they had seen a massive black dragon. Granted, it was hardly much of a mystery since I had a decent idea of where to find him: The beach where I had originally left him.

Was it a hunch? Yes, but I had little else to guide me. There was no magical bond between us, no mystical connection that might serve as a compass or beacon. All I could do was guess, but where else would the Cannibal be? Would he return to Dragonstone? Would he risk the Sheepstealer having muscled in on his territory? No, he had abandoned his island holdings and tied his fate to mine.

And these dunes all looked the same.

Luckily, I had a means of finding his rough location: the locals. Asking some passing peasants if they had seen a black dragon recently was enough to get me started. Eventually, though, that avenue began to exhaust itself, but it mattered little. My mount was more than sufficient to narrow in on the Cannibal's location.

It was newly borrowed from Lord Commander Morrigen, since the local master of horse was rather hesitant to lend me one after I got my last horse killed. This one was not yet used to the presence of dragons and was thus a touch nervous around them.

So when it grew skittish and began to resist my attempts to drive it along the dunes, I grew certain my target was there.

The behavior of the other mounts of my entourage were yet another hint, each of them even more unnerved than my own borrowed horse. Ser Rosby's mount outright refused to move onwards, a sight which elicited no small amount of cursing from the knight and no brought me no small amount of amusement.

Yes, the Cannibal was here.

After some encouragement, the horse was persuaded to crest the top of the dune, even as it struggled with the soft sand. Part of me felt bad about forcing it over such terrain, but this as why I had borrowed it in the first place. In fact, this was why people used horses in general: to carry them places they did not want to walk.

And my legs were still sore, having not had the opportunity to experience the maester's mystery ointment.

So I spurred the borrowed steed to the crest of the dune, revealing the massive black dragon who had carved numerous deep furrows into the yellow sand of the beach. If I had not known better, I would have thought he had been pacing, but dragons did not exactly have the right body-type for that.

The great beast's head whipped in my direction almost immediately afterwards, hissing pitifully.

Well, that wasn't good.

"Cannibal," I began, swinging myself out of the saddle to approach the dragon on foot. Approaching on horseback might have been faster, but I had an audience. Approaching the massive fire-lizard on foot looked a touch more heroic. Theatrics were appropriate, even if my knees nearly buckled on the dismount. "I came looking for a great beast worthy of the songs, not a scared cat."

The Cannibal growled in response, raising himself to his full height, the long neck reaching towards the sky instead of running along the ground. There we go, wounded pride. I could work with that far better than fear. Motivational speeches were hard enough with a human target.

"Yes, a scared cat." I paused, as though to weigh the words, to taste them as they passed my lips. Oh, I did miss the drama and theatrics I had been able to enjoy in my previous life. "What happened to the child of Old Valyria that dared interrupt an event as noble as a joust? The dragon that earned my attention through sheer temerity?"

The Cannibal tilted its head at that, clearly confused at my seeming lack of recognition of the madness not even a week past. At my amused expression and wink, however, the dragon seemed to pick up on the message, and he returned to the lower position that the dragons adopted when on the ground.

He did still roar at me, petty lizard that he was, but at least it wasn't fire.

At this rate, I was going to have to invest in ear protection. Or invent ear protection, more likely. Another item on an ever-growing list.

The bellow began to subside after a good thirty seconds, but the ringing was not so eager to leave. I could barely hear the dragon shift its footing on the sand, but that did not stop me from extending a welcoming hand.

"There it is! There is that spirit that earned my attention!" The cheer in my voice helped disguise the sheer amount of uncut bullshit I was spewing in so few words. Even if it did feed my narrative. "Why not put it to good use?"

For a moment the Cannibal's miniscule pupils focused on the extended arm I offered. His head retreated, the neck coiling like a whip. Those small black dots flickered around me, above me, back on, behind me, on my arm, on me, never still.

Those eyes narrowing slightly was as close to a warning as I got. Pain blossomed across my chest as the beast's powerful head rocketed forwards, slamming into my chest and knocking me on my back. The sand cushioned my fall, luckily, but the breath was still driven from my lungs.

I gave my thanks to the Seven for remembering to wear my armor.

Before I had a chance to wonder if I might have misplayed my hand in dealing the Cannibal, the dragon reared upwards and shot a plume of fire the same color of its eyes into the sky. The head whipped down, sending a jet of flame into the sand dunes, setting fire to the sparse vegetation and turning the sand to glass.

Somewhere behind me, a horse screamed in pain. My borrowed horse, most likely.

Oh, I had misplayed my hand badly.

"CANNIBAL!" Fighting my way to my feet, legs screaming with the lingering pains of strenuous exercise and my chest aching from the dragon's strike, I shouted at the great beast.

The Cannibal abandoned his tantrum to bring his head back down to my level. His growl reverberated through every bone in my body, echoing deep within my chest as every instinct in my body told me to run like hell.

Yeah, he was not happy with me.

"That's right, focus on me," I said. "That's whom you have an issue with, isn't it?"

He huffed in response, bathing my face in heat that would not have been amiss in a furnace. How the great beast managed to do so while still growling was a question for someone who knew more about the anatomy of dragons than I did.

"You and I together, that's what you want, isn't it?" I asked, louder this time, intending for my audience to hear me. If they were still around to hear me, that is. Taking my eyes off a dragon was a bad idea at the best of times, so I had been unable to check if they were still watching. "Us against the world?"

Again, the dragon huffed, but this time it felt far more… positive, for lack of term. A term of agreement.

"Together as equals." My arm came up once more, offering my hand to the dragon.

For a moment, the Cannibal just stared at me with those almost purely green orbs, and I worried that he was just going to eat the arm. Clearly my theatrics had done something to anger the dragon, so perhaps he was out for vengeance?

Thankfully, he simply maneuvered his massive snout into position to settle in my palm. As much as it felt like a contract renegotiated in the other party's favor, I was too relieved to care. Holding the position for perhaps a handful of seconds, the Cannibal broke the contact and lowered his head to the sand, offering me his neck.

Content to play the part presented to me, I climbed up and settled into the almost familiar position behind the dragon's head. With a great bellow of what almost sounded like triumph, the dragon took to the air. In the meantime, I tried to figure out what I was about to get myself into.

We had to get to King's Landing, that much was obvious. One of the hills would serve as a temporary lair. Not Aegon's, Vermithor and Silverwing both called it home and the Cannibal would never willingly approach it. Rhaenys' was not viable for similar Vhagar-sized reasons.

That left Visenya's hill.

The hill of Visenya had a rather large sept on it. And I, being the pious princeling, was going to exploit it for all the PR I could. Because the Faith was going to do the same. Really, a sept sheltering a dragon was a golden propaganda opportunity.

Yes, keeping the dragon in a sept atop the city was the best option short of keeping him outside the city. But that was a worst-case scenario. For now, I had more pressing concerns. Getting to King's Landing, for one.

More importantly, facing the most dangerous opponent of them all: my heavily pregnant mother.

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