Dreamfyre

Staring at the pitch-black cave entrance before him, Rhaegar paused for a moment, murmuring softly, "Sir, do you think I can tame a dragon?"

Illyric's expression changed, and he said nervously, "Absolutely not. That's a ferocious adult dragon inside, and the King would never allow you to take such a risk!"

"Why?"

Rhaegar stared directly at the White Knight, questioning, "You think I can't tame a dragon?"

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

Illyric struggled to find the right words, earnestly advising, "Gaining a dragon's approval is by no means easy. You should make a long-term plan."

"But I want to try, Sir."

Rhaegar took a step forward, taking a deep breath. "My sister could ride a dragon at age 7. After this winter, I'll be 7 too."

"She could do it, so there's no reason I can't."

There was one more sentence Rhaegar didn't say aloud.

He possessed the Blood of the Dragon, granting him extremely high resistance to fire.

His Valyrian bloodline was also potent enough, making it easier to gain a dragon's approval.

"I will not agree to this, Prince."

Illyric blocked Rhaegar's path, his face solemn. "I swore an oath to the King that I would protect his eldest son. I cannot stand by and watch you risk your life."

"But you also swore to me that you would fulfill any task I gave you, no matter the cost to life or honor."

Rhaegar shouted, his eyes fixed on the White Knight before him.

Perhaps it was the nightmare, or the prefix, but Rhaenyra's coldness seemed to pile up and erupt at this moment.

Rhaegar was filled with an incredibly chaotic, negative emotion.

It was fear of the nightmare, dissatisfaction with the prefix, even jealousy towards his sister...

He was Rhaegar, Rhaegar Targaryen.

Targaryens were never weaker than others!

Behind him lay the lair of Dreamfyre. Rhaegar intended to tame this dragon and win honor and respect with it.

Illyric couldn't stop him.

Because he was a White Knight, he had to uphold his oath.

Rhaegar's expression turned serious, and for the first time, he issued an order to Illyric: "Now, Rhaegar, the eldest son of Viserys I, commands you: remain in position and do not disobey!"

"Prince, you..."

Illyric tried to dissuade him again, but Rhaegar shouted, "Be quiet, Sir!"

Bound by his oath, Illyric couldn't bear to fail the white cloak on his shoulders. With a struggling posture, he stood at attention, gripping the hilt of his sword.

"Very well, faithful White Knight."

Rhaegar walked past Illyric, glancing at Menas, who stood stunned to the side. "Illyric will wait outside the lair for backup. If you have nothing else to do, you can return."

Hearing the words of Rhaegar, whom he considered a noble, Menas shivered. "No! I want to stay by your side. I'm familiar with Dragon Habits and can help you."

He was still hoping to gain the Prince's approval and escape the unfairness of his fate.

How could he back down at such a critical juncture?

Rhaegar looked at him strangely. Seeing his determined, almost suicidal expression, he nodded. "Alright. If I manage to tame Dreamfyre, I'll count this as a merit for you."

"Yes, Your Highness!"

Menas's spirits soared upon hearing this. He bravely walked to Rhaegar's side and entered the cave first to clear the path.

Rhaegar didn't refuse. He turned back to Illyric and said calmly, "He's braver than you, Sir."

With that, Rhaegar quickly followed Menas, his figure disappearing into the dark cave entrance.

Illyric closed his eyes in pain, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

His duty was to protect the Prince's safety.

But the Prince clearly preferred taking risks.

Entering the lair, Menas picked up a torch from the ground and skillfully lit it, bringing light to the pitch-black space.

As the torchlight suddenly illuminated the dark environment, Rhaegar instinctively shielded his eyes to avoid the glare.

Once inside the lair, Menas's excitement significantly subsided, and he said nervously, "Your Highness, Dreamfyre has resided in the Dragonpit for many years and is extremely volatile. You could try observing it from a distance first."

"I will, Maester."

Rhaegar nodded, tilting his head. "Are you very familiar with this place?"

Menas smiled shyly. "Yes. Maester Pycelle requires regular inspections of the Dragonpit. Other Maesters can't stand the smell of dragon dung, so I'm always the one assigned to this task."

"I see. It seems you are very diligent and responsible in your work."

Noticing Menas leading the way with practiced ease, Rhaegar thought him a promising talent.

"Your Highness, I usually bring one or two dragon keepers with me when entering the lair. They know High Valyrian and can sing songs to soothe the dragons."

Menas, flushed with praise, imparted an important piece of information.

At this point, he no longer considered whether the Prince before him could truly tame a dragon.

Or whether he could succeed.

He only wanted to impress and gain the Prince's favor.

Rhaegar stared at his retreating back, muttering to himself, "This young man, suppressed for so many years, is too impatient."

But it didn't matter. Whether he was impatient or not, as long as he was useful.

Rhaegar said in a low voice, "Valyrian is my mother tongue. I can try."

Ever since he had mastered Ancient Valyrian, he had recalled some scenes from the depths of his memory.

It was when he was little.

Around three years old.

He had been in a coma for a long time then, his life hanging by a thread.

What no one knew was that he had brief moments of consciousness, but he was too weak to even open his eyes, making it no different from being asleep.

However, his hearing, touch, and smell were fine.

During many short periods of semi-consciousness, Rhaegar could hear soft singing by his ear.

He didn't know where the sound came from.

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

Though he couldn't see or speak.

He remembered the voice of the singer and could smell a faint, pungent odor.

When he regained consciousness, he forgot the content of the song.

But he knew what that faint smell was.

It was the dragon stench, similar to the smell of sulfur.

Now, he could roughly recall the content of the song. It was a song in Ancient Valyrian.

Clearing his throat, Rhaegar imitated the gentle tone from his memory and slowly hummed the song called Shepherd's Sunset.

A tender child's voice suddenly came from the darkness, dispelling the unease in his heart.

"Roar..."

As the song continued, a colossal creature in the depths of the lair opened its eyes and raised its head in confusion.

The underground lair wasn't very spacious; its depth was far from comparable to the tunnels.

Rhaegar soon arrived at a more open underground space.

By the flickering firelight, the ground was littered with the bones of large livestock and the stench of dragon dung.

Swish...

The firelight suddenly swayed violently, the stagnant air grew hot, and the clanging sound of dragging chains echoed from the shadows.

"Give me the torch. You just need to wait here."

Through the firelight, Rhaegar saw a giant creature lying in the corner, knowing it was the dragon Dreamfyre.

Menas obediently handed over the torch, pressing himself against the wall, and said nervously, "Your Highness, you must be careful. If things go wrong, run immediately."

"I will. Pray for me!"

Rhaegar disliked deathbed-like admonitions. Humming the song, he slowly moved forward.

Approaching the huge figure in the corner.

Last update, I hope all my fellow readers will give me more support and encouragement.

Dreamfyre was a relatively gentle dragon. Having lived in the lair without seeing the sun for years made it increasingly irritable.