Daenerys nearly skipped down the hallway toward the chamber housing the Painted Table, her heart light and her mind filled with thoughts of Maekar. Behind her, Lyonel Storm, Maekar's sworn shield, followed dutifully.
The last two days had been the best of her life. Ever since she had confessed her love to Maekar, and he had returned that love, everything had felt like a dream. She had been battling these growing feelings since she arrived in King's Landing. No… since she first met Maekar, she realized. It was as though everything had been leading to this, and now that it was finally out in the open, her heart could soar freely.
She wondered if Maekar would approach Rhaegar about a betrothal. Her heart fluttered at the thought—being married to Maekar, having children. She could hardly contain the joy welling up within her at the mere prospect of it.
As she entered the chamber, her steps slowed. The room was dimly lit, the Painted Table glowing orange in the low light. But what caught her attention most was Maekar, standing at the far end, his expression intense as he stared down at the table.
For a moment, the scene felt ominous. But when he looked up and saw her, his face softened, and a smile spread across his lips.
"Daenerys," he greeted her, his voice warm yet measured.
She smiled back, her heart leaping at the sight of him.
"Lyonel," Maekar said, not taking his eyes off her. "Leave us. And make sure no one comes here."
Lyonel nodded. He gave a brief bow and then left, closing the door behind him, leaving Daenerys alone with Maekar.
Daenerys walked over to him, her brow furrowing as she took in Maekar's serious expression. "What is it?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with concern. "You look so… serious."
"I have something important to tell you, Dany," Maekar replied, his tone grave, his eyes never leaving hers.
"What is it?" she repeated, laughing a little to ease the tension, but Maekar didn't join her in the lightness. He remained serious, and her laughter faltered.
"I'm going to tell you what truly happened at Skagos," he said.
Daenerys blinked, confused. "I already know what happened. You killed Euron and saved Aegon. Everyone knows."
"Yes," Maekar nodded. "But there's something else, something I chose not to mention. Something I'm going to reveal to you now."
Her confusion deepened, but her curiosity was piqued. She looked at him earnestly, waiting for him to continue.
"Euron wasn't just on Skagos to hide away with Aegon," Maekar began. "He was looking for something—something he believed would make him the most powerful man in the world. Something our family once possessed long ago."
Daenerys's breath hitched. "You can't mean—" she whispered, her eyes widening in realization.
"Yes," Maekar said, his voice lowering. "Euron was searching for a dragon."
Daenerys stood there, stunned, unable to find words. Her mind raced, trying to piece together what he was telling her.
"He had found one," Maekar continued. "He was preparing a ritual to bind the dragon to him, and that's why he needed Aegon."
"Did… you…?" Daenerys managed to ask, her voice barely a whisper.
"Yes," Maekar nodded. "I saw the dragon. Fortunately, Euron hadn't gained complete control over it, and I was able to stop him—kill him before he could complete the ritual."
"What happened to the dragon?" Daenerys asked, her voice filled with awe.
"It flew away," Maekar said, stepping closer to her. He took her hands, squeezing them gently. "But it didn't fly far. It came here, to Dragonstone."
"A dragon… here?" Daenerys whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief and excitement.
Maekar nodded.
Suddenly, Daenerys's entire demeanor changed. Her eyes lit up with uncontainable joy, and a wide smile spread across her face. "This is amazing, Maekar! A dragon! I'm going to see a dragon!" She could barely contain her excitement, her words spilling out rapidly. "When will we search for it? Let's do it now! Right now!" she said in quick succession, her happiness bubbling over.
Daenerys's excitement halted when she saw that Maekar's expression remained solemn. The weight of the moment settled over her as she searched his face for answers.
"Yes, there is a dragon," Maekar said, his tone measured, "and I plan to claim it. But not just for any reason—for the coming conflict."
"Conflict?" Daenerys asked, her brow furrowing. "What conflict?"
"You know what I mean, Dany," Maekar replied. "You've seen what's happening at court. Aegon… Aegon is not well. He hasn't been the same since Skagos. I fear, and many others fear, that he's heading down the path of madness—like Aerys."
The mention of her father's name caused Daenerys to step back, her breath catching in her throat.
"The scars of Robert's Rebellion still linger, Dany," Maekar continued, his voice heavy with truth. "If Aegon were different, maybe we could coexist. But Aegon has changed. He won't allow me to live. The old loyalists still cry for the blood of the rebels' sons."
Daenerys's mind raced, recalling Aegon's strange behavior in recent months. She remembered the odd, insistent way he had pushed her toward Joffrey Lannister, something she hadn't yet told Maekar. Aegon had been oddly fixated on her spending time with the Lannister lord, as though weaving some invisible plan around her.
Could Maekar be right?
She also thought of Viserys's constant desire to leave King's Landing. He had even suggested visiting Essos with her more than once. Did Viserys already foresee this coming conflict?
"Dany," Maekar's voice pulled her from her thoughts, grounding her again.
"Your brother asked me not to involve you in this. He doesn't want you caught up in the chaos." he said gently.
But before he could finish, Daenerys silenced him by placing a finger against his lips. "I will be by your side, Maekar," she said softly but firmly.
Without waiting for a response, she pressed her lips to his in a kiss full of quiet conviction. Then, pulling him into an embrace, her head resting against his chest, she whispered, "When do we go looking for the dragon?"
Before Maekar could answer, she looked up at him, her eyes fierce with determination. "And don't you dare think for a moment I won't be coming with you."
Maekar chuckled softly, holding her closer. "We'll go in the evening," he said, a smile tugging at his lips as they remained in each other's arms.
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Maekar, Daenerys, Lyonel, and his most trusted Varangian guards made their way toward the dragon's lair, their footsteps crunching softly against the rugged terrain of Dragonstone. The dragon once known as Cannibal had returned to its home—the forgotten dragon hatchery along the island's eastern shore.
The entrance to the cave loomed before them, wide and imposing, the surrounding rock blackened from dragonfire over the years. The winds howled through the jagged cliffs, carrying with them the scent of the sea. Cannibal had made this place his home, where once young dragons were hatched. The name Cannibal was earned through blood and fire, for the creature had devoured the young and weak dragons that once roamed this cave.
As they arrived at the entrance, the temperature seemed to rise, and a sense of foreboding filled the air. The dark mouth of the cave yawned wide, inviting and terrifying all at once.
Maekar paused and looked at Daenerys. She stared back at him, determination and excitement flickering in her violet eyes.
"I will go inside," he said firmly, stepping forward. "Alone."
"No," Daenerys protested, her voice sharp with concern. "I am going to come with you as well."
Maekar turned to her. "No, Dany. This is something I must do on my own."
His tone left no room for argument. He then turned to Lyonel and the Varangians standing beside him. "Remember the protocol," he commanded, his voice stern. "If anything happens, take Daenerys and leave. Keep her safe."
Lyonel nodded, his face set with grim determination. The Varangians, battle-hardened and loyal, made no sound but acknowledged the order with silent agreement.
Daenerys's expression softened as she stepped forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Maekar in a fierce embrace.
"Be careful," she whispered.
Maekar leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear. "I'll take you flying soon," he whispered with a wink, his smile comforting her, even if only for a brief moment.
With that, he turned and walked toward the mouth of the cave, the darkness swallowing him whole. The air was thick with the stench of sulfur, mingling with the unmistakable scent of decay, as Maekar ventured deeper into the cavern. The scale of the cave became overwhelming as he moved further inside. Towering ceilings stretched above him, stalactites hung like jagged teeth, and the vastness of the space made him feel small in comparison.
The remnants of the Old Dragon Hatcheries still clung to life, their purpose long forgotten. Crumbling stone platforms stood like ancient sentinels, their edges worn down by time. Deep alcoves lined the walls, where dragon eggs had once rested in the warmth of the cave. Faint traces of the dragon eggs could still be seen, their outlines a ghostly memory of a bygone era. In the corners of the cave, pools of magma bubbled and hissed, casting a flickering glow that danced across the chamber in eerie reds and oranges.
And there, in the heart of it all, lay the beast.
The Cannibal.
Its massive, obsidian-black body sprawled across the cave floor, darker than night itself. The dragon's scales gleamed faintly in the dim light, their surface as impenetrable as stone. Its eyes—burning green fire—watched with an unsettling intelligence, as if they had seen countless ages of life and death. Scars lined its wings, now folded neatly against its colossal form. Its claws, sharp as Valyrian steel, dug lazily into the stone beneath it.
The sheer size of the creature dwarfed anything Maekar had imagined. It was larger than Vhagar, larger than anything he had ever read about. The dragon's deep, rumbling growls echoed through the chamber, vibrating the very air around him.
Maekar's heart raced, his body tensing with each small step forward. The sound of his boots crunching over brittle bones beneath him was the only noise he could hear apart from the dragon's breathing. Cannibal's tail flicked against the stone floor, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver through Maekar's spine.
Then, as if sensing his presence, the dragon's eyes snapped open.
Cannibal's head lifted from its rest, its glowing eyes locking onto Maekar with an intensity that made his breath catch in his throat. It was watching him. Measuring him. Judging him.
"Oh, fuck," he muttered under his breath.
The dragon growled, a sound so deep and primal that it seemed to shake the very ground. Smoke curled lazily from its nostrils, filling the air with a sense of danger.
Yet as Maekar stood frozen, he felt it—the connection. The same connection he had felt in his dreams for months. It thrummed through his veins, urging him forward, despite every instinct screaming at him to turn back. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, and forced himself to move closer.
The dragon's massive form shifted as it slowly rose to its feet, towering over him. Its scales shimmered faintly in the glow of the magma pools, casting dark shadows across the cave. Cannibal's eyes narrowed, watching his every move.
It took all the courage Maekar had left to take another step.
The dragon moved toward him, each step slow and deliberate, its claws scraping against the stone floor. They came to a stop a few feet apart, both frozen in the stillness of the moment.
"Remember me?" Maekar asked, his voice low and steady.
The dragon rumbled, as if acknowledging the question. A slow, deep sound that seemed to resonate with the very walls of the cave. It wasn't a roar, nor was it a growl—it was something deeper. Almost like a recognition.
Maekar's hands shook as he stretched them out toward the dragon. Cannibal's green eyes followed the movement, its tail lashing against the ground with slow deliberation. But it didn't attack. It merely watched.
With a final deep breath, Maekar pressed his hands against the dragon's obsidian scales.
Nothing happened. Time seemed to stop, the cave silent save for the faint crackle of magma in the distance.
Then, slowly, the dragon's growl faded. Cannibal lowered its massive head, its green eyes closing as a deep, rumbling purr vibrated through its body. Maekar's fingers tightened against the dragon's snout, feeling the warmth beneath his hand.
A triumphant smile curled his lips. He had done it.
=========
Outside the cave, Daenerys paced nervously, her worry growing by the minute. She could feel the tension in the air, her heart racing with each passing moment.
"Ser Storm!" she called, her voice edged with frustration. She spun to face Lyonel, who stood vigil beside her, as calm as ever.
"Search for him! I can't just stand here," Daenerys demanded, her eyes flashing with determination.
Lyonel met her gaze evenly. "I have my orders, Princess. I am not to enter the cave. The prince gave strict instructions."
Daenerys clenched her fists, ready to argue further. "Then I will go in."
Lyonel quickly stepped in her path, his tone firm but respectful. "I cannot allow that either, Your Grace. My orders are to keep you safe."
Before she could reply, the ground beneath them seemed to tremble, and a sound—deep, powerful, ancient—ripped through the air.
A roar.
A roar that hadn't been heard by a man or a woman in Westeros in a century, a sound that sent shockwaves of awe and fear through everyone present. Lyonel's hand instinctively moved to his sword, but his eyes were fixed on the cave's entrance.
"It's time to go, Princess," he urged.
But Daenerys was rooted to the spot, her gaze locked on the dark mouth of the cave. Her heart raced, but not with fear—there was something else, something that kept her still. Awe, anticipation.
And then she saw it.
The dragon.
It emerged from the cave, black as night, its massive form seeming to fill the sky as it stepped into the open. Cannibal was even more immense up close, its scales like gleaming obsidian, and its wings stretched wide, casting a shadow over them all. The ground quaked beneath the weight of its steps, its fiery green eyes glowing like embers.
Everyone around her froze, their eyes wide in disbelief. One of the Varangians, his voice barely a whisper, pointed toward the beast.
"The prince... he's on its back!"
A thunderous cheer erupted from Lyonel and the Varangians. The tension melted away as the realization sunk in: Maekar had done it. He had claimed the dragon. Daenerys, too, found herself swept up in the moment, her lips curling into a smile, and then she couldn't help herself—she cheered with the rest of them.
As the dragon moved closer, everyone instinctively took a step back, the sheer size of the beast overwhelming their senses. Everyone, except Daenerys. She stood rooted, her eyes wide with awe, transfixed by the beast before her. The dragon lowered its massive head, revealing Maekar atop it, his hand raised to acknowledge the cheers.
His gaze found Daenerys, his smile as triumphant as the moment. "I did promise you a flight, didn't I?"
Daenerys couldn't contain her excitement. "Yes, yes you did!" she called back, her voice filled with joy.
Cannibal lowered itself further, enough for Maekar to extend his hand to her. She took it without hesitation, and with surprising ease, Maekar pulled her up onto the dragon. She settled in front of him, feeling his strong arms wrap around her protectively, holding her securely against him.
"Hold tight," Maekar whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin.
With a mighty beat of its wings, Cannibal lifted off the ground, the sudden rush of air swirling around them. Daenerys gasped, her hands gripping Maekar's arms as they soared into the sky. The ground fell away beneath them, and the wind whipped through her silver hair as the dragon climbed higher and higher into the air.
The world below became a blur of greens and blues, the island shrinking in size as they flew higher still. The sea stretched endlessly before them, the sun setting on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Daenerys tilted her head back, her eyes wide with wonder as they soared through the clouds, the daring sky opening up before them.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice filled with awe.
"Yes," Maekar replied softly, his arms tightening around her as they soared through the air. "Yes, it is."
They flew for some time and as the sky darkened the dragon descended gracefully, its massive wings slicing through the air as it made its way toward a small island nearby. The island was rocky, with a few patches of grass.
The dragon folded its wings and lowered its massive body, allowing Maekar and Daenerys to dismount. They slid down from its back, their feet touching the soft earth of the island.
Before Maekar could speak, Daenerys turned toward him with a fire in her eyes. In one swift motion, she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck, her lips crashing into his. Maekar stumbled back, caught off guard by the intensity of the kiss, but he quickly recovered, his arms wrapping tightly around her as they tumbled to the ground.
Daenerys pushed him onto the soft earth, her body pressed against his, her kisses hungry and unrelenting. Maekar responded with equal fervor, his hands roaming across her back, pulling her closer as the intensity between them grew.
He opened one of his eyes to see the dragon watching them.
'Never thought I would be doing this in front of a dragon,'
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