Dreamfyre

Watching the pitch-black entrance before him, Rhaegar froze for a moment and murmured,

"Ser, do you think I could tame a dragon?"

Illyric's expression changed. He said anxiously, "Absolutely not! There's a temperamental adult dragon in there. The king would never allow you to risk your life!"

"Why?"

Rhaegar stared straight at the White Knight and challenged him, "Do you think I can't tame a dragon?"

"No, that's not what I meant."

Illyric struggled to find the right words, then said earnestly, "Winning a dragon's acceptance is no easy task. You should think this through."

"But I want to try, Ser."

Rhaegar stepped forward and took a deep breath. "My sister was riding a dragon through the sky at seven. By the end of this winter, I'll be seven too."

"If she can do it, there's no reason I can't."

There was one more thing Rhaegar left unsaid.

He had Blood of the Dragon, giving him exceptional resistance to fire.

His Old Valyrian blood was also pure enough to make it easier for a dragon to accept him.

"I won't agree to this, Prince."

Illyric stepped in front of Rhaegar, his face solemn. "I once swore to the king that I would protect his eldest son. I can't stand by and watch you put yourself in danger."

"But you also swore to me that you would carry out any task I gave you, no matter the cost, in life or death, in honor or disgrace."

Rhaegar shouted, staring fixedly at the White Knight before him.

Perhaps the nightmare, the prefix, and Rhaenyra's neglect had all surged up at once.

Rhaegar's heart brimmed with a jumble of dark emotions.

Fear of the nightmare, perhaps, resentment toward the prefix, or even jealousy of his sister...

He was Rhaegar, Rhaegar Targaryen.

Targaryens were never inferior to anyone!

Behind him lay Dreamfyre's lair. Rhaegar would tame the dragon and earn honor and respect through her.

Illyric couldn't stop him.

He was a White Knight, and he had to keep his vows.

Rhaegar's expression turned grave. For the first time, he gave Illyric an order. "Now, Rhaegar, eldest son of Viserys I, commands you: hold your position and do not disobey!"

"Prince, you..."

Illyric tried to dissuade him, but Rhaegar raised his voice. "Be quiet, Ser!"

Bound by his vows, Illyric couldn't bring himself to betray the white cloak on his shoulders. He stood rigidly, his expression conflicted, and gripped his sword hilt.

"Good. A White Knight who keeps his vows."

Rhaegar walked past Illyric and glanced at Menas, who stood frozen nearby. "Illyric will wait outside the lair to receive us. If you have nothing else to do, you may go back."

Hearing Rhaegar, the would-be noble, speak, Menas shuddered and said fervently, "No! I want to stay by your side. I know Dragon Habits well, and I can help you."

He was still hoping to earn the prince's approval and escape the injustice of his fate.

How could he retreat at such a crucial moment?

Rhaegar gave him an odd look. Seeing his resolute, ready-to-die expression, he nodded. "Very well. If I tame Dreamfyre, I'll give you credit for it."

"Yes, Your Grace!"

Menas perked up at once. Mustering his courage, he stepped in front of Rhaegar and entered the cave first to lead the way.

Rhaegar didn't stop him. He glanced back at Illyric and said coolly, "He's braver than you, Ser."

With that, Rhaegar hurried after Menas, and his figure vanished into the pitch-black entrance.

Illyric closed his eyes in pain, his heart a tangle of conflicting feelings.

His duty was to keep the prince safe.

But the prince clearly preferred taking risks.

Inside the lair, Menas picked up a torch from the ground and lit it with practiced ease, bringing light to the pitch-black space.

The sudden flare of light in the darkness made Rhaegar instinctively shield his eyes.

Once they were inside, Menas's excitement faded considerably. He said nervously, "Your Grace, Dreamfyre has lived in the Dragonpit for years, and she's very ill-tempered. You could try observing her from a distance."

"I will, Maester."

Rhaegar nodded and tilted his head. "You know this place well?"

Menas smiled shyly. "Yes. Maester Pycelle requires regular inspections of the Dragonpit. The other maesters can't stand the smell of dragon dung, so I'm always the one who does it."

"I see. You take your work seriously."

Seeing Menas lead the way with ease, Rhaegar thought he had potential.

"Your Grace, when I enter the lair, I usually bring one or two Dragon Trainers with me. They know High Valyrian and can hum songs to soothe the dragons."

Menas blushed at the praise and shared an important detail.

At this point, he was no longer thinking about whether the prince truly intended to tame a dragon.

Or whether he would succeed.

He only wanted to prove himself and earn the prince's regard.

Rhaegar watched him from behind and thought, A fine young man, held back for years, but far too eager.

Still, it didn't matter whether he was eager. As long as he was useful, that was enough.

Rhaegar said softly, "Valyrian is my mother tongue. I can try."

Ever since he had mastered Valyrian, memories from deep in his mind had begun to return.

They were from when he was very young.

Before he was three, more or less.

Back then, he was constantly unconscious, his life hanging by a thread.

What no one knew was that he had brief moments of lucidity. He was simply too weak to open his eyes, so it was no different from being asleep.

But his hearing, touch, and sense of smell still worked.

During many brief stretches when he was half asleep and half awake, Rhaegar could hear a gentle voice humming beside him.

He didn't know where the voice came from.

Sometimes the owner of the voice would stroke his cheek and kiss his forehead.

Though he couldn't see or speak,

he remembered the singer's voice, and his nose could detect a faint, pungent smell.

Once he regained consciousness, he forgot the song's words.

But he knew what that faint smell was.

The dragon stench, like sulfur.

Now he could more or less recall the song. It was a song in Old Valyrian.

Rhaegar cleared his throat, imitated the gentle tone from his memory, and began to hum the song called Shepherd's Sunset.

A child's tender voice rang out unexpectedly in the darkness, dispelling the unease in his heart.

"Rrr..."

As the song went on, a colossal creature deep in the lair opened her eyes and lifted her head in confusion.

The underground lair wasn't very spacious, and the distance was nothing like the depths of a tunnel.

Rhaegar soon reached a more open underground chamber.

In the unsteady torchlight, he saw large livestock bones scattered across the ground, along with foul-smelling dragon dung.

Clatter...

The torchlight suddenly wavered violently. The stagnant air grew hot, and the clank of chains dragging across the ground came from the shadows.

"Give me the torch. You can wait here."

Through the torchlight, Rhaegar saw a huge creature crouched in the corner. He knew it was Dreamfyre.

Menas obediently handed over the torch and pressed himself against the wall, uneasy. "Your Grace, please be careful. If things go wrong, run at once."

"I will. Pray for me!"

Rhaegar disliked farewells that sounded like they were for the dying. Humming the song, he moved forward slowly.

He approached the huge shape in the corner.

This is the final update. I hope you'll continue to support the author and give them more encouragement.

Dreamfyre was a relatively gentle dragon, but years spent hidden away in the lair had made her increasingly irritable.