Chapter 6:The Feral Dragon
83 AC
Queen Alysanne Targaryen
It had been a hectic few days for Queen Alysanne. Her dear husband and elder sons had departed for war the previous day, and the burden of rule now rested squarely on her shoulders. She had been consumed with helping them prepare and even making plans for what to do if something were to happen to her kin. She knew, logically, that nothing could stand against three dragonriders over open waters—but still, her heart was not at peace.
Her anxiety was worsened by the antics of her children and grandchildren. Usually, the trouble began with Gaemon, but this time, it was her dear Rhaenys. The panic Rhaenys expressed—saying her father would ride Caraxes to war but only Caraxes would return—bordered on madness. No one could soothe the girl, not until she had a private meeting with Gaemon in the godswood. Alysanne had wanted to look into the matter herself but hadn't found the time. And she knew that no one else would be able to get an answer out of Gaemon.
It was early morning now, and Alysanne felt the urge to yell at Gaemon for missing the send-off of the King. She knew he had offered quiet well-wishes to his elder brothers, but the absence of a public show of support had not gone unnoticed by the court and the nobles. The only small comfort was that Gaemon had not disappeared into the streets or flown off to the Dragonpit alone. The entire royal family was under strict watch—Dorne could send assassins, or worse, kidnappers to stay the King's hand.
After her ladies-in-waiting finished preparing her, Alysanne's first order of business was to visit her sweet Gael. The little girl was only three, but she was Alysanne's greatest source of strength.
Small Council Meeting.
"My Queen," Ser Ryam said as he entered the chamber and bowed.
The Queen gave him a nod while the other council members, save for Septon Barth, shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
"Prince Gaemon is nowhere to be found, Your Grace," Ser Ryam reported. "He is usually in the practice yard as punishment, but he's not there today. I've searched the godswood and the kitchens. I've also sent men to the Dragonpit to check if he's there."
The others frowned but kept silent—none dared speak ill of the Prince in the Queen's presence, save Septon Barth, a long time friend and confidant of the Monarchs.
"Ser Ryam, this is unacceptable," the Septon spoke up. "His Grace specifically ordered Gaemon to attend these meetings and support the Queen as the eldest male Prince remaining in the capital."
Ser Ryam remained quiet, glancing toward the Queen. Though she retained her regal bearing, the exhaustion on her face was unmistakable.
"Ser Ryam, the Lord Hand is correct," the Queen said firmly. "Send out the order. Every man is to be notified. Prince Gaemon is to be found and brought before me immediately. I would very much like to know what he deems more important than supporting his family in such trying times. Make sure that the King's order is not known among the men."
Ser Ryam bowed in acknowledgment and turned toward the door—only for it to slam open a moment later.
"Who dares—" Septon Barth began, indignant, but he immediately swallowed his words upon seeing Princess Alyssa enter.
"Daughter, what is this?" the Queen asked, frowning with restrained anger at the disruption and disrespect.
"Mother, this is awful news. Both Rhaenys and my own son Viserys haf gone too far—" Alyssa began to explain, but her words were drowned out by an ear-splitting roar.
The Black Dread.
Everyone in the room froze, their panic rising, but it was Alyssa's next words that truly seized the council's attention.
"My son and niece are missing."
In an instant, all concern about Gaemon vanished. The Small Council sprang into action, ordering the search for the young royals to begin at once.
It took time, but eventually the young princess and prince were found. Alyssa scolded them sharply, while Queen Alysanne watched with a stern, disappointed expression. She held her silence, mindful of maintaining royal dignity and not losing her temper in front of the children.
They were near the entrance to Maegor's Holdfast, where the children had been caught, when Ser Ryam came running toward them, another man-at-arms in tow, breathless from exertion.
"Your Grace," Ser Ryam said hurriedly, "I have news of Prince Gaemon. He's in the Dragonpit—doing something."
Both the Queen and Alyssa exchanged surprised glances. The Queen turned her attention to the man-at-arms, whose pale, shaken face betrayed fear and disbelief.
With a gentle smile, Alysanne asked, "Good ser, you've come with tidings. What is it?"
The knight bowed and spoke hesitantly, pausing to catch his breath. "Your Grace, Prince Gaemon… he's lost his wits. He's attacking Balerion—the Black Dread—with the King's sword, Blackfyre, in the middle of the coliseum. We had to force our way in to witness it, as the dragonkeepers had been ordered to block all entry."
Alyssa gasped, her mouth falling open in shock. Even Queen Alysanne stood speechless, panic rising in her chest like a tide.
'What in the Seven Hells is Gaemon doing?' she thought, horrified. 'Does he want to reduce King's Landing to ash?'
Without another word, Alysanne turned to give her orders.
"Prepare a carriage—immediately. Alyssa and I will go to the Dragonpit at once."
She wanted to ride a horse herself, but her riding days were long behind her. And she knew instinctively that sending Alyssa alone would not be enough.
Gaemon Logan Targaryen had prepared well for this day. He had already mapped out a plan to sneak Blackfyre from the king's solar and use the distraction caused by his young niece to escape to the Dragonpit. Everything had gone according to plan, and he reached the Dragonpit in record time.
He went inside and the normally friendly dragonkeepers tensed seeing the Kings blade in his hand.
"My prince?" the leader asked in High Valyrian.
"Out of the pit. Now," Gaemon commanded, and the authority in his voice, forged through years of leadership, made the younger dragonkeepers obey immediately.
"My prince? What are you doing?" one of the elders asked nervously.
"The enslavement of dragons ends today. And today, the sickness plaguing Balerion will be destroyed," Gaemon declared as he ran into the caves.
His first target was Balerion himself—and the chains the Black Dread had allowed to be placed upon him.
Gaemon looked up at the black dragon who had shared such kinship with him in this life. A brief study of his House's history had been enough to make him understand why. They were both old souls, beings who had watched centuries pass while loved ones died around them. He knew that before his own birth, Balerion had merely been waiting for death. Only the connection they now shared gave the dragon a reason to try again—just as Logan had, when the mysterious entity gave him a second chance at life.
Balerion's eyes glinted with excitement—and a trace of dread—for the pain he knew was coming. As Gaemon approached, the mighty dragon shifted slightly, allowing his rider better access. With casual, practiced slashes, Gaemon broke the chains. The strength in his youthful body had always amazed Balerion, but in that moment, it didn't matter. He could finally taste freedom—not from the chains, for he could have broken those any time—but from the sickness inside him.
Balerion moved swiftly into the center of the Dragonpit, and Gaemon followed. He looked around and saw the massive arena, large enough to hold 80,000 people who once came to witness marriages, royal announcement and even crownings.
"Maegor built a colosseum in just four or five years. The engineering in this world is insane," Gaemon thought.
Silverwing and Dreamfyre arrived next, and Balerion hissed a simple command: burn the infection when Gaemon gave the signal.
Gaemon glanced at the younger dragons. He could feel Silverwing's terror and Dreamfyre's wild joy.
Dreamfyre, eager to inflict pain on the Black Dread, even stepped forward to start the burning early. Only a sharp warning hiss from Balerion stopped her.
"Well, well. At least Dreamfyre is happy to hurt you," Gaemon said in Valyrian. "Rhaena must have truly hated you for Dreamfyre to still carry such deep resentment."
Balerion simply snorted in response.
"No hesitation now. Let me reach the infection," Gaemon muttered, climbing up Balerion's wing, which was positioned in the ground like a gigantic slide. The dragon had lowered it to give him easier access to the injuries above the wing joint and beneath the spine.
Gaemon winced as his enhanced senses picked up the stench of rot. The wound was massive—nearly the length of his own body and wide enough for two men to walk side by side. He stood on Balerion's wings, observing the damage.
Gameon increased his grip on Blackfyre and swung diagonally using all his strength, which was considerable, as fast he could for several minutes. Within minutes a huge X shape was carved in the black rotted scales. black pus smelling of rotting eggs and sulfur began to ooze out.
Balerion just grunted in annoyance.
Gaemon nodded grimly at the suggestion. "Alright then, I will do that."
With a shout, he drove Blackfyre into the wound, burying the blade to its hilt. It took all his strength and weight. When the sword refused to come loose, he jumped and kicked off Balerion's body to wrench it free. The moment the sword was out, a geyser of black blood and pus erupted. The force threw Gaemon back several meters—luckily, or he might've been burned by the acidic discharge.
The liquid continued pouring, and as Gaemon approached the hole, he noticed movement. His enhanced vision caught the sight of wriggling forms.
Worms.
His face contorted in disgust.
"Fucking hell."
He shoved the blade halfway back into the wound and used it like a saw to carve along the X. The interior flesh was softer, and between his strength and Valyrian Steel, he made short work of it. Black fluid poured out like a river. His body and clothes were soon soaked, and he could feel the worms crawling on his skin. But he ignored the revulsion and kept going.
After five minutes, the job was done. A deep X-shaped cavity now marred Balerion's flesh.
The dragon grunted something Gaemon didn't catch—and without warning, Dreamfyre's blue fire engulfed the whole area.
"My prince!" someone from the Dragonguard shouted in horror, but no one moved to intervene.
Gaemon was startled by the fire and he leapt sideways to avoid it, but the fire was all enveloping and he could feel the blood and pus-soaked clothes becoming ashes within seconds. He could feel the black liquid that had landed on him vanishing and then the worms being turned ash before he felt the increased warmth from the fire. By the third minute he was tanned like he was in the sun for a month. His pale white body became red like it was painted, but luckily for him there had no burns.
"Well... I'm somewhat unburnt," he said, dazed. "Nice of you to warn me, Balerion. I go out of my way to help, and you try to cook me?" Gaemon asked sarcastically.
Balerion only grunted again.
"I knew those worms were trouble. But little warning would've been nice," Gaemon muttered.
Gaemon walked forwards to the sickness and then slashed his sword randomly around the cooked flesh. The flesh parted like butter and landed on the wings and around it increasing the hole.
Balerion grunted. Gaemon took the hint and slid down the wing, stepping aside.
Dreamfyre let out a satisfied rumble and stepped forward. Balerion had already shifted his wings. Dreamfyre wasted no time—ripping away dead flesh with claws, teeth, and fire. Four rounds of this impromptu cleansing followed. When the wound was finally cleared, a huge hole where a horse could walk forward was created. Dreamfyre bathed the entire area in fire again.
Balerion hissed, and Dreamfyre stopped immediately. Balerion then turned and looked at the much smaller blue dragon still standing near the massive hole in his side. Gaemon was impressed by the flexibility of his neck. The inspection lasted only seconds.
Without warning, Balerion breathed fire on his own wound—then turned the flame on to the ground and then Dreamfyre. "Balerion!" Gaemon shouted in alarm as Dreamfyre was engulfed in black flame. He feared the worst—but sighed in relief when the fire died down, revealing Dreamfyre almost unharmed, with only a few scorched scales.
Dreamfyre growled angrily, but Balerion's hiss silenced her. The message was clear: the worms had to be completely purged—even from Dreamfyre. Balerion then turned to Gaemon. In his mind, the image of a small slash wound on the dragon's underbelly appeared.
Gameon just hissed in displeasure and he was still naked. Fortunately for him, he has no shame after living for so long. Balerion just lied on the ground and lied side ways and gameon saw the slash. It was oozing black pus and Gaemon had a bad feeling regarding it which he ignored promptly with a scoff.
He reached near the slash and did the same as earlier. Blackfyre to the hilt in the slash and then sawing the interior flesh. Black liquid landed on Gaemon's face and bald head which he ignored as he continued increasing the hole. Even while he was doing that blue fire engulfed him and the hole and Gameon saw the black blood hissing as if it was acid landed on any surface.
Instincts flared, and Gaemon jumped back as a jet of black liquid poured out of the hole and landed on the sand, sizzling before vanishing in the heat of Dreamfyre's blue flames.
Balerion grunted, and Gaemon ran sideways as Dreamfyre approached the slash. This time, there was no hesitation like before. There was only pure savagery as Dreamfyre used her claws, teeth, and fire to dig at the hole, making it bigger and bigger.
Gaemon could feel Balerion's pain, but still, there was no sound of pain.
After two minutes, the hole was large enough for Dreamfyre to fit half her mouth inside, which she did—and then breathed fire directly into the flesh.
Gaemon wondered what could have made Balerion do this to himself.
As if in answer, Dreamfyre suddenly pulled back, and Gaemon saw something being dragged out between her teeth.
It was a worm—the size of an adult human—oozing black pus filled with smaller worms.
"Fire worms," Gaemon hissed.
Dreamfyre looked at the massive wound left behind, hissed at Balerion, and shook her head. Balerion grunted in displeasure and looked toward Gaemon.
"What the fuck?" Gaemon snapped. "You want me to be used as bait?"
Balerion hissed back.
"Fuck you too," Gaemon hissed, stalking toward the massive wound with Blackfyre in hand. He stopped when another hiss from Balerion made him turn away from the hole and toward the dragon's head.
"You want to bond before that?" Gaemon whispered.
Balerion growled his agreement, and an image flashed in Gaemon's mind—of Daemon's bleeding hand pressed to Balerion's mouth.
Gaemon nodded in understanding. As he approached the dragon's head, he slashed his left palm against the edge of Blackfyre and raised it. But before Balerion's tongue could reach him, the wound had already healed over. Gaemon grunted in frustration.
Balerion hissed again.
He moved his palms over Blackfyre's edge again, reopening the wound, and raised both hands, while keeping the edge buried in his palms, so it will not heal over. He nearly lost his fingers by the time Balerion's tongue reached him. Gaemon quickly lowered his right hand, still gripping the sword. As the wounds healed, Balerion's tongue enveloped his entire body, and fire washed over him once more.
In that moment, he felt a sudden sense of completeness—his mind connected, a new bond forming between them. He could feel the thread that led to Balerion and tugged on it.
"Welcome, Gaemon." Balerion's deep, resonant voice echoed in his mind.
Ah, this is good, Gaemon replied the same way.
Now go and kill the other worm, Gaemon. Otherwise, it will corrupt your magic too.
Gaemon nodded and ran toward the large hole in Balerion's side.
He was halfway there when the shrill yell of his mother and sister echoed from the entrance of the Dragonpit. But even before the scream had finished, Logan had jumped—already inside the hole.
Fortunately for Logan, the dragonfire had cauterized the edges, so there was no blood leaking. The interior was unbearably hot, and Logan knew he wouldn't be able to breathe for long. He moved quickly, deeper into the hole, toward the bubbling black pus at the far end.
He glanced back and saw the reason Dreamfyre hadn't been able to drag the second worm out—it had burrowed too deep, beyond her reach.
With a harsh yell, Logan began hacking at the flesh with Blackfyre, determined to kill the godsdamned worms.
Alysanne Targaryen almost ran into the Dragonpit—only her pride stopped her from doing so. But the moment she stepped inside and saw what was happening, she wished she had run.
Her foolish son was naked, covered in soot, and wielding Blackfyre as he sprinted across the sands. She ignored Alyssa's shouting, and even her own shout of "Gaemon!" was ignored. Within moments, her voice faltered into stunned silence.
Gaemon had leapt into a gaping hole in Balerion's underbelly.
Alysanne knew how hot dragons ran—Balerion was the hottest of them all. She knew the blood will be boiling her son if he didn't come out soon. Taking a deep breath to calm the rising terror, she looked around.
Balerion the Black Dread lay sprawled in the center of the Dragonpit sands, and both Dreamfyre and Silverwing waited nervously on the sidelines. Her Silverwing stood farther back than usual. Reaching out through their bond, Alysanne immediately felt her dragon's intense fear and shock.
She urged Silverwing through the bond to approach Balerion and, if possible, dig Gaemon out—but Silverwing refused, sending a clear message: Be patient. Wait.
Alysanne sighed and obeyed, ordering the two Kingsguard to stay close. Other than the dragonkeepers, the pit was empty. The lead keeper quickly approached and began explaining what had happened so far.
"So you're saying a black worm the size of an adult was pulled out of Balerion and killed by Dreamfyre?" Alyssa snapped, disbelief ringing in her voice.
"And why did my son jump into Balerion's belly with Blackfyre?" Alysanne demanded.
"I do not know, Your Grace," the dragonkeeper replied. "My guess is there's another worm, and Dreamfyre couldn't reach it."
As if summoned by their words, a hideous screech echoed through the pit, followed by Gaemon's furious snarl. With horror, Alysanne watched as Gaemon was flung out of the hole in Balerion's body, landing hard on the ground. His entire body was drenched in black pus that bubbled violently, as if trying to eat him alive. A massive chunk of flesh near his stomach was missing, as though some beast had torn into him. Blood poured from the wound without end.
But the most horrifying sight wasn't the injury—it was Gaemon's face.
There was no pain.
No fear.
Only wild, bestial rage.
"AHHHHH!" Gaemon screamed and, using Blackfyre as a lever to stand, lunged back toward the hole. As if catching his fury like a contagion, Balerion let out a ear-splitting roar and breathed fire at his own body and the hole as Gaemon vanished back into the wound.
Alysanne had only a glimpse before the fire consumed the area—but in that moment, she saw it: the black pus had vanished from Gaemon's body. She understood then—Balerion was helping her son, by burning the liquid. Screeches and roars echoed through the pit. The sound of bones cracking followed. Alysanne stood frozen in worry as Dreamfyre stepped forward and, inhaling deeply, exhaled a torrent of blistering flame into the hole.
A moment later, a monstrous screech tore through the air as Dreamfyre jerked back. From the smoking wound, a grotesque black worm burst out. Gaemon rode atop it, Blackfyre buried to the hilt in its body. She realized immediately that it was Gaemon's momentum and strength that had driven the creature out of Balerion's body.
With terrifying speed, Balerion rose and unleashed a roar that shook the pit—and then he breathed fire on the worm and Gaemon. Alysanne's blood drained from her face. She screamed in terror and ran toward them. The fire was black as night, more powerful than any she had seen before. Even Gaemon, born unburnt, might not survive such flame. The Kingsguard tried to follow, but a deep growl from Silverwing froze them in place.
By the time Alysanne reached the scorched sands, the ground had turned to glass and the worm was nothing but ash. Ignoring the searing heat, she rushed to Gaemon and pulled him from the embers.
"No," she whispered, then screamed when she got a good look.
Gaemon's skin was completely burned, blackened and peeling. Three large pieces of flesh were missing—from his stomach, thigh, and hand. His shoulder bore a gaping, bleeding wound where massive teeth had bitten down. She paled, realizing the worm had aimed for his neck—and her son had moved at the last second to take the blow elsewhere.
She cursed the gods, sobbing, but her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a cough.
Gaemon suddenly sat up, panting.
"Gaemon! Gaemon, my son—how are you? Why—why—?"
Gaemon looked around, spotting Balerion lying exhausted on the ground, panting heavily. He could feel his dragon's fury, pain, and the razor-thin thread of patience still holding him back. Ignoring his mother, his pain, and his nakedness, Gaemon stood, using Blackfyre as a crutch. His injuries meant little—they would heal. Though his healing was not yet at the level of his first life, it was still effective.
He saw the dragonkeepers standing nearby, horror etched on their faces. The entire garrison was watching. "Dragonkeepers!" he barked. "Bring every animal you can find for Balerion to feed on. Do not stop until he stops. Keep feeding him. Now." The tone in his voice brooked no argument—they ran to obey.
Alysanne snapped out of her shock and stood. "Gaemon!" she shouted. "What in the Seven Hells are you doing? You're half-dead—and yet you care about that black beast?"
Gaemon turned slowly, leaning on Blackfyre.
"It's that or Balerion kills the nearest dragons and eats them to heal the damn holes," he said flatly. "Also, this?" He gestured to his wounds. "It's nothing, Mother. I'll heal in a week. I'm going to pass out—don't let the maesters give me any of their poppy-milk or useless potions."
Alysanne stared at him, eyes wide. She looked at Silverwing in fear, then at her son's broken body. And then—her eyes widened even more. The burns on his skin were not fresh as before. The bleeding had stopped. She had no time to react further. With a dull thud, Gaemon collapsed like a tree felled at the root.
Authors note: Finally.. gaemon has bonded with balerion and every bit of sickeness of balerion is extracted and killed… also, ADS balerion had the same sickeness and when it died the worms also died because there was no magic sustaining it. So if daemon claimed balerion in it, he had to do this and extract the worms and even then daemon's haeling is not at the level of gaemon in 80s AC.
Also going forward, I will try to update monthly as one of the major reason for delay was I planned on using ADS dragonlore, valyrian history for this fic. So to not spoil ADS I kept this on hold .
FD 7: jae reaction and meeting with gaemon..
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