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Dragons are creatures born for freedom. They should not be bound to the earth by chains and stone.
The fleet responsible for transporting people from White Harbour was now stationed at Sisterton, waiting to carry these disarmed and defeated individuals to their unfamiliar new homes—provided they did not resist.
As for Clay, he boarded a warship personally entrusted to the most reliable captain under Lord Wyman's command. Once they set sail, the ship headed straight for Longsister Isle, which had already been largely cleared of any remaining resistance.
After two days of smooth sailing with the wind at their backs, Clay arrived at this bloodstained and still faintly charred land, with his dragon, Gaelithox, by his side.
The ship would remain docked here, waiting for Clay's return, though the captain had no idea how long the wait would be.
Clay instructed his personal guards to remain at the shore. Alone, he carried a heavy wooden chest that covered most of his body and began walking, one step at a time, into the depths of the island.
Although he had the ability to influence his guards' thoughts, Clay still preferred to keep Gaelithox's existence a secret from them for as long as possible. The longer he could keep it hidden, the more time he could buy for the dragon to grow and mature.
Once he was certain that no one could see him, Clay set the wooden chest down and opened the panels. Gaelithox, who had been suffocating inside for far too long, let out a piercing cry as it stretched its blue-and-gold wings and soared into the sky.
"Gaelithox, go and search," Clay said gently. "Find a place you think is comfortable."
The young dragon, now larger than an average puppy, seemed to understand his master's words. With strong, rhythmic flaps of its wings, it quickly disappeared into the distance.
The dragon darted back and forth across the island. At times it returned to Clay's side, only to vanish moments later beyond the horizon.
Avoiding the now-deserted villages and towns, Clay and Gaelithox spent nearly a full day exploring. Relying on the dragon's instincts, they finally discovered a cave nestled on a small hill in the northern part of the island.
By the time Clay reached the cave, its original inhabitant—a thick-bodied serpent—had already been slain by Gaelithox. The creature's head was blackened and charred, a clear result of being seared by dragonfire.
At least tonight, his dragon would not go hungry, Clay thought to himself.
The serpent had a powerful, muscular body, likely a type of constrictor that could crush a calf with a single coil. However, when trapped inside the cave and faced with the ruler of the skies, it had no chance. The moment Gaelithox stormed in, a single blast of fire to the head sealed its fate.
Before a dragon, a serpent could only become roasted meat. That was the only possible outcome.
While Gaelithox extended its neck and eagerly devoured its prey, using dragonfire to crisp the serpent's scales for easier chewing, Clay took the time to inspect the lair his dragon had chosen.
It appeared to be a naturally formed stone cavern. The entrance was not very large, and Clay, with his tall frame, had to stoop and squeeze to enter. However, for Gaelithox, whose body was streamlined and agile, it posed no difficulty at all.
On their journey here, Clay had gradually explained everything to his dragon. As its master, he would be leaving it for a while. In return, he had brought it a vast, free world as a parting gift. Gaelithox could now go wherever it pleased. There would be no more chains, no more wooden boxes. Whether it wanted to dive into the sea for fish or roast animals on the island with its flames, everything was permitted.
The earliest dragons grew up in such wild environments, and that was why their wingspans could cast shadows over entire cities. Meanwhile, the dragons kept chained within the Dragonpit of King's Landing were bound and confined until they shrank to the size of dogs.
Clay didn't know if Daenerys could communicate with her dragon, Drogon, in the same way he did with Gaelithox. As far as he remembered, she seemed to lack such an ability.
Perhaps, once Gaelithox became strong enough to carry him across the Narrow Sea, he would seek her out.
He imagined the scene—her, long convinced to be the last heir of dragon blood, suddenly encountering a man who arrived riding a dragon to find her. The very thought brought a trace of amusement to his lips. He would love to witness the look on the young queen's face in that moment.
The idea alone thrilled Clay, and he firmly resolved to add this plan to his list for the future. Such a majestic event deserved to be carried out by him alone. No one else was worthy of doing it.
Although the guards were concerned about their lord, they had already been ordered not to follow. As a result, none of them ventured into the island's interior to look for Clay.
They knew well what kind of power their lords possessed. Besides, Longsister Isle had already been thoroughly swept clean by the army and was now the safest it had been in decades.
Outside the dragon's new lair, Clay constructed a simple roasting rack. He took a piece of the serpent that Gaelithox had slain earlier in the day, skinned it with practiced ease, and skewered it over the fire.
The roasted serpent meat had little flavor, but it was more than enough to fill his stomach.
Gaelithox, coiled atop a bed of straw in front of Clay, had begun to reveal its sharp teeth. It was now focused entirely on tearing apart the serpent's thick body, which was as wide as the dragon itself.
Other than the spine and the tougher scales, Gaelithox devoured everything. Whenever it encountered a part that was difficult to bite, it simply spat a few more bursts of fire to soften the meat before continuing.
Clay had already decided that White Harbour's fleet would blockade this island for a year. With the war cutting off trade, no merchant vessels would be coming here anyway.
One year would be enough for Gaelithox to grow, now that it had space and freedom. It wouldn't reach a massive size in that time, but as long as it could carry him on its back, that would be more than sufficient.
There was a vast difference between merely having a dragon and being able to ride one.
If Clay could earn renown in the coming war in the south—by beating the Lannisters so badly they cried for mercy—and then generously distribute the spoils to his impoverished soldiers, he would gain great favor and fame.
And if, on top of that, he revealed that he could ride a dragon, the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms would likely put the past of House Targaryen behind them.
Countless noblewomen, regardless of age or background, would try to throw themselves into Clay's bed.
Not because he was handsome—quite the opposite, even if Clay were hideously ugly, it wouldn't matter. For in Westeros, a dragon was as good as a crown. This belief had long been etched into the hearts of all nobles.
Yes, the lords could use the Mad King's atrocities as justification to overthrow him, but they could never deny the Targaryen dynasty's two centuries of legitimacy.
If that weren't the case, why did so many people kneel before Daenerys upon meeting her? Did anyone really believe it was all lust and desire?
And what if a brand new dragonlord house were to rise, one free of the heavy burdens carried by the Targaryen name? What would the nobles think then?
If they could entwine their family bloodline with such a house, wouldn't that mean their family's status would soar in the years to come?
When it came to Daenerys, Clay still wasn't sure how to deal with the fierce and proud young queen. One way or another, the two of them were bound to meet in the future.
It wasn't as simple as Clay riding over, marrying her, and calling it a day. Things never worked out so easily.
Daenerys was determined to reclaim her throne and avenge her family. As a noble of the North, Clay was naturally among the enemies she held responsible.
Even if she let go of her hatred, what then? She was a queen, not a consort. If Clay married her, what would their new dynasty be called? Manderly or Targaryen?
If he could ride a dragon, he would undoubtedly become a contender for her throne—whether he wanted to be or not.
Unless he built a solid relationship with her before her power base fully formed and laid out their future in clear terms, trouble would be inevitable.
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(Author's Note 🔔)
Yes, it was clear now. She was going to be the first female lead. There was no doubt about it. They could not possibly be heading toward another Dance of the Dragons, could they?
And as for whether there would be a second heroine… well, perhaps the esteemed readers would be kind enough to share their thoughts and suggestions?
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[Chapter End's]
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