FVN Chapter 213: Taming Dreamfyre
Chapter 213: Taming Dreamfyre
Chapter 213: Taming Dreamfyre
The sun rose higher, approaching noon.
The throne room.
Viserys sat on the Iron Throne, flanked by his royal advisers. Lyonel held a letter and read aloud, "The Bracken House has privately moved and secretly grazed in Blackwood territory at night..."
The letter was from the Tully House of Riverrun. A few days prior, the Blackwood and Bracken Houses had erupted in another conflict. Both sides had mobilized their soldiers, preparing for battle at their borders.
Old Lord Tully of Riverrun, alarmed by the escalation, had sent mediators and delivered the news to King’s Landing.
Viserys, feeling overwhelmed, interrupted, "Just get to the point. Did they fight or not?"
He was baffled. The first ten years of his reign had been peaceful, but now chaos seemed constant. First, the Triarchy invaded the Stepstones. Then, the Mountain Clans rebelled in the Vale. Now, after barely repelling the Stepstones pirates, Dorne's intentions were uncertain, and the Riverlands were in turmoil. The young king was at his wit's end.
Lyonel paused, then hesitantly continued, "Yes, Your Grace, there was a fight. Both sides mobilized thousands of men, resulting in many dead and wounded."
"Damned fools!" Viserys cursed, angry. "I thought mediation had succeeded. They broke their word before the Stepstones battle even concluded!"
Lyonel, sweating, explained, "Your Grace, it was unavoidable. The families promised to cease hostilities and support the kingdom. But their hatred runs deep, passed down through generations."
Viserys fumed, "So what now? Should we send another mediator?"
Last time, Lyonel himself had mediated. Now, less than two months later, the houses were at war again.
Lyonel hesitated, then said helplessly, "We must continue to mediate. The Blackwoods and Brackens are major houses in the Riverlands, each commanding thousands of soldiers. The kingdom needs their support in the war."
Viserys' veins bulged with frustration. Both houses had suffered losses, making mediation increasingly difficult.
The hall was silent, tense.
Viserys' ragged breaths echoed, his frustration palpable. The royal advisors were silent, knowing the limits of their feudal system. In Westeros, nobles ruled their own lands. The king had little authority to intervene in noble conflicts unless innocents were in danger. Mediation was the most he could offer, and even that depended on the nobles' willingness to cooperate.
Sending royal troops to quell unrest was impractical. Noble skirmishes, though disruptive, were part of their belief in the survival of the fittest. Strength and honor were paramount. Knights earned respect through prowess, not by keeping the peace.
How could knights rise without these conflicts? The nobles valued the law, but their interpretation was rooted in strength and honor, not the king's decrees.
Seeing their father’s anger, Rhaenyra touched Rhaegar’s hand and whispered, “Rhaegar, can you think of a solution?”
Rhaegar froze, his eyes wide and innocent. Did he look like a wise counselor? The battle for the Stepstones wasn’t even finished, and he was still strategizing defenses for Bloodstone Island and Grey Gallows Island. The Dornish were lurking, and he had to stay vigilant. The Riverlands conflict wasn’t on his radar.
Rhaenyra leaned closer and murmured, “Don’t you have a lot of informants in the Riverlands?”
...
Dragonpit
"Roar..." Dreamfyre slumped to the ground, stretched its neck, yawned, and lazily wagged its tail.
"Dreamfyre, get up and fly me around," Helaena commanded, patting the dragon's spine.
The young princess, clad in a blue dress that matched Dreamfyre's scales, looked like an extension of the dragon itself. An elderly Dragonkeeper stood nervously in front of them, a half-man-tall saddle at his feet.
"Princess, please get off the dragon's back," he pleaded. Dreamfyre's temper was notoriously bad, and the Dragonkeeper couldn’t get close enough to saddle it.
But Helaena, fueled by an unknown courage, had already climbed up Dreamfyre's side, using its wings for leverage. After a few stumbles, she succeeded.
Grabbing a piece of Dreamfyre's back scale, Helaena, her face flushed with effort, urged, "Dreamfyre, listen to me."
Yet, Dreamfyre remained indifferent. Unlike her with her mother, the dragon showed no signs of obedience to Helaena's commands.
"Roar..." Dreamfyre yawned again, closed its eyes, and seemed intent on sleeping.
Frustrated, Helaena pounded Dreamfyre's spine with her small fists, not realizing her hands were becoming red and swollen.
"Dreamfyre, just fly me around a bit and let them know I’m not to be messed with," she pleaded, tears forming in her eyes. Crawling to the top of Dreamfyre's head, she sniffled and continued, "My brother said I can become a dragon rider. I will tame you."
Her life had been a series of disappointments. People whispered that she was mentally ill. Her brother Aegon tormented or ignored her, and her sister Rhaenyra treated her harshly. Even her father, Viserys, seemed to care more for her siblings.
In her young heart, only Rhaegar cared and encouraged her. His belief in her was a rare source of strength.
"Dreamfyre, fly up for me, fly up!" Helaena stood, clutching a bent dragon horn, her eyes squeezed shut.
Pouring all her courage into that command, she sought to prove her worth, to show she was a true Targaryen like her siblings.
Snap.
Dreamfyre lifted its head and lashed its tail against the black stone floor, turning to look at the determined girl on its back. It sensed something new, something it hadn’t felt since its last rider, Rhaena.
Slowly, Dreamfyre rose from the ground, its wings spreading wide. It flapped them twice, tentatively.
"Dreamfyre, fly!" Helaena’s trembling voice called out again.
Clinging to the dragon's horn, eyes shut tight with fear, Helaena held on as Dreamfyre took flight. In that moment, she wasn’t just a little girl; she was a dragon rider, a Targaryen proving her existence to the world.