Roman flapped his colossal wings, hovering gracefully above the shimmering surface of the Gods Eye. Looking down at the sprawling, fortified expanse of Harrenhal and the thriving towns that surrounded it, a profound sense of absolute sovereignty washed over him.
So this is what it feels like to truly fly.
Roman was restless. The draconic instincts surging through his newly evolved nervous system craved the thrill of genuine flight.
With a powerful, thunderous flap of his wings, Roman initiated a blindingly fast dive. The wind roared in his ears as he plummeted toward the Gods Eye, pulling up at the very last second to skim inches above the water's surface, leaving a massive wake behind him.
As he approached the distant shoreline, he banked hard, executing a flawless sideways drift over the terrain. The sheer velocity was intoxicating. The rolling plains, the geometric farmlands, and the dense forests blurred into the horizon. Roman swam freely through the sky, completely unbound by gravity.
He spent the next hour testing his aerial capabilities, executing tight barrel rolls, loops, and vertical climbs until his new wing muscles finally began to ache. Satisfied, he slowed his momentum and entered a controlled, high-speed dive, landing heavily on the shores of the Gods Eye.
Fili and Lady Shella immediately rushed forward, frantically examining Roman's body for any lingering injuries. They only allowed themselves to breathe a heavy sigh of relief once they confirmed his core temperature had stabilized and his mind was completely intact.
However, Lady Shella immediately stepped back, her eyes fixed on his back in sheer, unadulterated bewilderment. "My child... what exactly has happened to you? Why do you have wings?"
Roman offered a helpless, highly amused smile. "My lady, I assume Maester Tom already briefed you on my unique, magical biology. Did you truly not believe him?"
Lady Shella simply pursed her lips. The historical dragons she had studied in the citadel ledgers were colossal, primal beasts—creatures of immense power, but ultimately lacking human intelligence. Roman, however, was not exactly a dragon. He was an incredibly brilliant, highly educated man who had forcefully assimilated the power of a dragon into his own flesh.
Fili, however, did not care about the terrifying biological implications. She simply rushed forward, threw her arms around Roman's waist, and burst into exhausted tears.
"Oh, Lord Roman! I was so utterly terrified! I thought I was going to lose you to the fever!"
Roman gently wrapped his arms around the crying girl, his massive, clawed hand softly stroking her back to smooth her messy blonde hair.
"You have lost so much weight," Roman murmured, gently tilting Fili's chin up to look at her bruised, exhausted eyes. "You have been working far too hard to keep me alive. The fever has broken. I am perfectly fine now, so it is your turn to rest."
Looking up at Roman's energetic, glowing blue eyes, Fili's intensely strung nerves finally snapped. The month of accumulated, agonizing fatigue finally broke through her sheer willpower. Fili's legs gave out, and she fell fast asleep directly against Roman's armored chest.
"Lady Shella, I will carry Fili back to her chambers to sleep," Roman announced softly. "Furthermore, issue a strict command to the local fishermen. They are forbidden from venturing out onto the Gods Eye for the next few days. The water temperature needs time to stabilize."
After issuing his logistical orders, Roman effortlessly picked the sleeping girl up in his arms. He spread his massive, dark blue dragon wings and launched himself into the sky, flying smoothly back toward the towering spires of Harrenhal.
For the next several days, Roman actively took over Fili's care. The young girl had relentlessly tended to him for an entire month, pushing her mortal body to its absolute breaking point.
Fortunately, Fili was exceptionally young and resilient. She did not suffer any permanent physical damage and was back on her feet within three days. However, Roman strictly forbade her from resuming any of her administrative duties.
"Lord Roman, I am perfectly well now," Fili protested gently. "There is absolutely no need for you to coddle me like a sickly child."
"Even the most seasoned, calloused laborers in Harrenhal require at least a fortnight to recover after collapsing from absolute physical exhaustion," Roman countered firmly. "You are no exception to the laws of biology."
Roman flatly rejected Fili's attempts to return to work. Instead, he decided to take her on a leisurely walk through Harrenhal's newly renovated sectors.
Their stroll eventually led them to the Godswood. The massive, ancient forest had finally been fully restored by Roman's dedicated rangers, and he wanted Fili to see the results.
Harrenhal's Godswood was not a simple garden. It covered a staggering, unprecedented twenty acres of land. Only standing at its massive wrought-iron gates did Roman truly appreciate the sheer scale of the project.
It was a literal, contained forest. Countless towering pines and sentinel trees formed a dense canopy around the central heart tree, while a crystal-clear, babbling stream cut perfectly through the center of the woods.
Thanks to the exhaustive efforts of the local druids and rangers, the massive enclosure had developed a completely self-sustaining, healthy ecosystem. Small game freely roamed the underbrush, and the forest floor was lush with vibrant shrubs and medicinal herbs.
Looking at the endless expanse of the sacred forest, Roman mentally calculated the exhausting amount of walking required to traverse it.
He glanced down at Fili. The girl was clearly still recovering, and forcing her to hike through twenty acres of dense forest would be cruel.
"Fili," Roman offered with a sly smile. "How about I simply fly you over the canopy instead?"
"Huh? Are you certain that is safe, Lord Roman?"
Fili looked at him with genuine disbelief. She knew Roman possessed terrifying physical strength, but he certainly couldn't comfortably carry someone on his back while flapping those massive wings.
"Of course it is safe," Roman chuckled. "I have two arms. I do not need to carry you on my back. I can simply hold you in front of me."
As Roman spoke, he mentally flexed the muscles between his shoulder blades. The massive dragon wings smoothly deployed from his back. Fili watched the seamless biological transition, unable to hide her sheer amazement.
"Your wings are incredibly convenient, my lord. They simply fold away seamlessly when you do not need them."
Roman smiled, stepping forward and sweeping Fili off her feet into a secure princess carry.
"Hold on tight!"
Roman crouched and violently pushed off the ground, the explosive force of his wings launching them instantly into the sky. Fili felt a sudden, terrifying rush of wind pressure against her body. When she finally dared to open her eyes, they were already hundreds of meters in the air.
The massive fortress of Harrenhal looked like a child's toy far below them. The sudden, extreme altitude caused the young girl to squeak and nervously bury her face into Roman's neck.
"Are you afraid of heights, Fili?"
"No," she mumbled against his collar. "It is simply my very first time being this high up in the sky. I am a little frightened."
"Haha! Well, you had better adjust quickly, because the main event is just beginning!"
Despite his teasing, Roman deliberately maintained an incredibly smooth, stable flight path. He strategically utilized his Pale Flame to superheat the air directly in front of them, creating a localized aerodynamic slipstream that entirely negated the harsh wind resistance, effectively encasing them in a bubble of warm, calm air.
Fili felt the gentle, warm breeze brush against her face. After a brief period of adjustment, her fear vanished, replaced by sheer, exhilarated wonder. She began pointing excitedly at the sprawling infrastructure below.
"Lord Roman! Look! There are thousands of cattle grazing over there!"
"That is our new, centralized livestock facility. It is a massive pasture dedicated entirely to breeding draft animals for our farmers."
"And when were those massive stone aqueducts built?" Fili gasped, pointing at the winding water lines.
"The engineering corps finished them while I was bedridden," Roman smiled proudly. "They just completed the two massive, above-ground stone-pier irrigation canals last week to funnel water to the outer farms. We will inspect them closer later."
"My lord! Look over by the river..."
While Harrenhal joyously celebrated Lord Roman's miraculous rebirth and draconic ascension, the chaotic intelligence reports rapidly spread across the Seven Kingdoms.
The reactions from the nobility and the smallfolk were wildly diverse, generally falling into three distinct psychological camps.
The first camp reacted with sheer, apocalyptic terror. Many devout commoners genuinely believed the devastating dragons that had historically burned Westeros to ash had returned from extinction. They flocked to the septs, weeping and begging the Seven Gods to spare them from the coming fire.
The second camp reacted with ruthless, calculated scrutiny. This faction consisted primarily of opportunistic nobles who immediately began calculating how they could exploit the situation. They frantically drafted letters to Harrenhal, desperately seeking highly lucrative trade agreements or military alliances with the newly crowned Dragon Lord.
The third camp reacted with absolute, arrogant disbelief. A significant portion of the entrenched, aristocratic nobility entirely dismissed the reports. "A bastard boy turned into a literal dragon? Impossible. Absolutely impossible. It is simply a bunch of illiterate river peasants hallucinating after drinking too much ale."
The reactions among the Great Houses were equally chaotic.
In the North, Lord Eddard Stark initially refused to believe the outlandish spy reports. But after directly verifying the intelligence with several highly trusted Northern merchants who had personally witnessed Roman soaring over the Gods Eye, Ned was forced to accept the terrifying reality. The ancient magic that had vanished over a century ago had officially returned to Westeros.
In Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister read the intelligence reports and felt a massive, throbbing headache form behind his temples. Of all the powerful lords in the Seven Kingdoms, his two idiot children had specifically chosen to antagonize Roman Rivers. If these terrifying reports were true, House Lannister was in grave, apocalyptic danger.
Yet, Tywin was not a man to simply surrender to fear. He immediately ordered his maesters to scour the deepest archives of Casterly Rock. There were ancient Valyrian texts that detailed highly specific methods for hunting and grounding dragons. Even if Roman had truly become a monster, Tywin was absolutely confident he could engineer a weapon to kill him.
Down in the Red Keep, King Robert Baratheon's reaction was entirely unique. Upon receiving the news, the king simply scratched his massive beard and legitimately began wondering if the future children Myrcella bore with Roman would still be physically human, or if they would hatch from literal eggs.
However, Robert's bizarre biological musings were violently interrupted when Queen Cersei stormed into his solar.
Cersei was absolutely berserk. She screamed at Robert to immediately annul the betrothal, hysterically declaring she would never, ever allow her beautiful daughter to be raped and eaten by a literal monster.
"Robert! You drunken fool!" Cersei shrieked. "You refused to believe that beast possessed literal horns and a tail before, but now the entire realm confirms he is flying through the sky! Are you truly going to serve Myrcella to him as his dinner?"
Upon hearing her venomous screeching, the king flew into an absolute rage. Completely disregarding the political implications of Roman's draconic nature, Robert stepped forward and delivered a brutal, backhanded slap directly across Cersei's face.
"Watch your venomous tongue, woman!" Robert roared, his voice shaking the stone walls. "Roman's honor and character are utterly impeccable! It is absolutely not your place to slander him like a common fishwife!"
Cersei stumbled backward, clutching her rapidly swelling cheek. She glared at Robert with sheer, murderous resentment. "Is striking your wife truly the only power you have left, Robert? I shall wear this bruise as a badge of absolute honor."
Robert scoffed, a dark, lethal sneer crossing his face. "You had better guard your tongue carefully, Cersei, or I will gladly 'reward' you again!"
As for Princess Myrcella, the young girl completely ignored her mother's hysterical terror. When the princess heard the romantic, fairytale rumors that Fili had been cradled in Lord Roman's strong arms as they soared majestically over the sprawling lands of Harrenhal, all Myrcella felt was profound, aching jealousy. She desperately wished it had been her.
Now Get The FULL AVAILABLE NOVEL at Once!
Get 40% OFF for limited time only.
@patreon.com/Authorizz/shop