Prince Daeron Targaryen's PoV
Prince Daeron slipped through the eastern gate of the Red Keep. The hour was early too early for lords or court to stir, and just late enough for the drunkards to stumble home. He wore a dark cloak over his silver hair, the hood pulled low. Only a few recognized him in the quiet streets below, and none dared speak.
He hadn't told his mother. He hadn't told his brothers. Only his father knew.
And his father hadn't stopped him.
"If fire is to answer fire," Viserys had said in a whisper, "let the right flame burn first."
That was enough.
Daeron didn't leave through the main port or with a royal escort. Instead, he met a ship's captain with no loyalty to greens or blacks, just to coin. It was better this way, Quiet, Safe.
The small galley set sail just before dawn, cutting a sharp path through calm waters. The wind favored them.
The sea was cold in the morning, but Daeron found peace in the motion. The further they got from the Red Keep, the more weight seemed to lift from his chest. The games of court, the poisoned looks, the whispers about dragons and sons and succession all of it faded.
Here, there was only water, sky, and the memory of a dragon's roar that had once shaken the very stones of Dragonstone.
Nightfall on Dragonstone
Daeron's heart pounded as he climbed the black slope, each footstep finding small holds in the volcanic rock. The wind had picked up, carrying the tang of sea salt and faint traces of brimstone. The sky overhead was starless, the air thick with cloud, but lightning flashed far off, lighting the far cliffs in brief silver flashes. Not perfect weather for bonding with a dragon but perhaps chaos could be a mark of truth.
He paused at the ledge, spotting the Shadow coiled against the dark rock. Even at rest, Vezdaryon was immense wings folded, tail coiled, chest rising and falling rhythmically.
The gold of the dragon's eyes caught a sudden flash of lightning. They were unreadable.
Daeron dropped to one knee, cloak swirling around him. He let the dim light reveal his face he couldn't let his words land on an unseen profile.
"Vezderyon," he said softly. The name came naturally. "I've traveled far for this."
The dragon watched him, shifting slightly, tail flicking.
"No flatteries. No threats. You do not need a prince. You do not need to be a weapon."
The wind howled past. Rain began to speckle the rock. Daeron stood slowly, steadying himself.
"I understand if you let me go now. If you burn me where I kneel."
Silence followed. Daeron sensed the dragon shifting, muscles coiling beneath thick scales.
"But if you're willing to let me… I wish to bond."
Daeron got up
With measured steps, Daeron approached the dragon's flanks. His hand hovered inches from midnight black scales with red highlights that shimmered with inner heat.
"I don't know what a proper bond might be," he murmured. "But when I spoke to Father, he said dragons remember fire feel home."
His fingers brushed the thick hide — cooled by night's air, yet still alive with warmth. The dragon's breathing slowed, and Daeron's heart soared.
"I promise… I won't bind you. I'll just try to understand."
A low rumble echoed in the darkness almost like acceptance.
Daeron didn't speak for a moment, not wanting to break the fragile trust. He slid hand over scale, moving slowly toward the spine, toward the ridge behind the dragon's neck.
"Leap now, or lose your courage."
He climbed. Heart hammering. Wet stone beneath his boots. Fang scar above his eye throbbed.
He reached the ridge. He paused, weight shifting. Then he sat.
A bolt of lightning crashed across the night sky, thunder following like a falling mountain. Vezdaryon shifted under him, heaving out air in a deep, frightening rumble. The world dropped into motion.
The dragon rose a mountain of wings unfurling in the violent storm. Rain pelted Daeron's face, but he held firm, gripping scales, breath stolen by the sheer force.
When they cleared the cliff edge, the air dropped away. Below, lightning reflected off frothing sea. Daeron closed his eyes, letting the storm claim him.
He heard Vezdaryon's powerful roar then a cry that shook the sky. They soared high. Wings beat against blad torrents of wind. Daeron felt smaller than a pebble yet alive in way he had never known.
They looped across the storm-choked sky. Daeron could barely believe it
He was flying on a dragon. Heart thundered so loud he thought the world would hear it. And with every beat, he felt something shift inside him, and within the dragon.
They banked low over the sea, striking the foam with a gust so strong, the waves roared back.
Lightning circled distant peaks of Dragonstone. They roared back together, beast and boy.
At last, they returned to the ledge. Vezdaryon set down with careful grace, his wings folding slowly in exhaustion and confidence.
Daeron climbed down his back, knees shaking. Rain washed through his hair. He stumbled, falling to one knee again.
"Thank you," he whispered, voice raw.
He rose. Rain dripped from the rocky slope.
Vezdaryon lay still, breathing deep, eyes watchful.
Daeron held out a hand as if, for the first time, he was offering not command, but friendship.
"May this be the start of something better than just fire and war?"
The dragon's rumble came again, low and long.
Silence followed.
Daeron realized tears ran down his cheeks. Not of sadness but relief.
"I promise… I won't ask you to bring death," he said softly. "But I ask to walk beside you if you'll have me."
Vezdaryon's eyes closed. The dragon allowed himself to rest fully, not just in body, but in presence.
They stayed there until the storm ended and dawn broke.
Vezdaryon nudged Daeron gently a subtle mark of acceptance.
Daeron wrapped his cloak tight. Rain soaked it through. He gazed at Dragonstone's cliffs, the rising sun burning gold into grey stones.
"Let's go tell Father," he whispered, voice hushed and firm. "We have a story to share."
Together, man and dragon turned toward home drenched, trembling, but bonded.
Vezderyon pov
The storm was long it rumbled in the background. I've been on these cliffs for awhile now just watching from distance thinking of possible adventures I could have.
I know the timeline, Vaghar claimed I could hear her roar.
In my daydreaming I felt a present I looked on those a boy I did not recognise him but I could fill the fire in his blood. I saw the light green attire on his clothing. He must be part of the greens by can't remember it wasn't Agon or Aemond so that Deron. A quiet kind boy from what I remembered of the show.
He went up to me a whispered "Vezderyon" I froze
Mc thoughts "how, what?" My mind was blown how did he know? But I felt he wasn't here to chain me.
I felt it a connection a real connection, the boy got up and walked slowly to me, he was whispering to me, then I didn't really think but I let him touch me.
Then I lowered myself and he climbed on the I roared the jumped
So, this is what I felt like to have a rider, a true rider and other being to rely on.
After flying I landed. We seat there the boy couldn't stop talking about all the adventures he wants to go on, about his worries and his joys. I felt like I was talking to myself.
This wasn't the feeling of being chained but I kindred spirit.