Chapter Text
Daemon leapt from Caraxes’ back with practiced ease.
Only a few months had passed since he had claimed the Blood Wyrm, yet they had spent so little time apart that the movement already felt instinctive.
Much to his sister's annoyance.
Rhaenys still could not stop him.
She was not Queen yet.
Perhaps he should have taken more of her advice to heart. Such as not allowing Caraxes to fly wherever the dragon pleased.
Well…
It was rather late for regrets.
Besides, these flights with Caraxes had quickly become the finest part of his days.
Then his months.
Soon enough, perhaps, his entire life.
He could already tell they always would be.
Nothing in the world compared to flying. To soar above the clouds, dive through open skies, twist and wheel upon the wind—it made the world beneath seem impossibly small. Every worry, every expectation, every courtly obligation dwindled until they were little more than distant memories.
Caraxes agreed.
Daemon could feel it through the bond they shared.
So he could tolerate being lost for a little while. Besides, a prince was never lost. Merely exploring.
Especially somewhere like this, where the air was crisp, the sky brilliantly blue, and the sea glittered around countless islands scattered across the horizon.
Eventually, he need only point Caraxes toward the direction from which they had come. His dragon would find their way home.
For now, Daemon intended to explore.
The place was unlike any land he had ever seen. An archipelago of islands, no two alike. Some rose from the sea as sheer walls of stone, others were blanketed in dense forests, while still more were crowned with mountains or ringed by pale beaches.
Curiously, Caraxes had flown toward them with unusual certainty after Daemon had loosened the reins and allowed the Blood Wyrm to choose his own course.
Now Caraxes stood with his head raised, tasting the air. His nostrils flared.
A low, eager trill escaped him.
Daemon had heard many sounds from his dragon.
That was unmistakably excitement. A rare expression.
Now, Daemon did not consider himself a man easily shocked.
He was usually the one doing the shocking.
Which was why it came as such a surprise when a small black dragon burst from the surrounding undergrowth.
It looked unlike any dragon Daemon had ever seen.
Barely larger than the adolescents kept in the Dragonpit, its sleek black scales drank in the light until it seemed more shadow than flesh. Enormous green eyes studied him with open curiosity.
The little dragon answered Caraxes' trill with one of its own before padding forward. The two dragons circled one another, sniffing cautiously before touching noses.
"By the gods, I'm so sorry!" A gangly boy stumbled out of the bushes after the black dragon. He didn't seem much younger than Daemon himself. "He's not usually like this. Well... actually, he is. We just weren't expecting to find another dragon rider out here. The others aren't on patrol today, and we've been having some problems with—"
He stopped abruptly, apparently realizing he had begun rambling.
"I'm Hiccup."
Daemon blinked. A dragon rider...
Named Hiccup?
That was... Unexpected.
More unexpected than finding dragon riders beyond the reach of House Targaryen. History recorded that dragonlords other than his own family had once existed. In Old Valyria, but still.
But Hiccup?
Surely the name meant something in whatever tongue these people spoke. If it meant what Daemon believed it did, then someone owed him a very good explanation as to why a dragon rider had been burdened with such a name.
"I am Prince Daemon of House Targaryen," he replied, unable to stop wondering how anyone could look upon a dragon rider and decide that Hiccup suited him. If the boy truly possessed the blood to bond with a dragon, perhaps there was some deeper significance Daemon simply failed to grasp.
"Great," Hiccup said. "Welcome to Berk. Well... technically one of the islands around Berk."
Daemon must have been more unsettled than he cared to admit, because only a few minutes later he found himself following Hiccup through the forest toward a place called Berk.
He wanted answers.
About Hiccup.
About the strange black dragon.
And, perhaps most of all, about how dragon riders could exist so impossibly far from home.
Were there truly more descendants of Old Valyria?
Whatever awaited him, Daemon had already secured his place in history.
He had discovered other dragon riders.