In this world, many great houses lay claim to the ground you walk on, build on, and sleep on. Some even lay claim to the seas, from the Narrow Sea to the Summer Sea. Yet despite most of the known world being claimed by these houses, there is one thing House Targaryen controls with absolute dominance—something no other house can rival.
The sky.
House Targaryen, blessed with the ability to command and ride dragons, is what gives them the power to rule the Seven Kingdoms. They are the undisputed force within the realm, with a claim no one else can challenge.
High above the clouds, Rhaenyra soared atop her golden-scaled dragon, Syrax, with the grace befitting the firstborn daughter of King Viserys. Up here in the sky, with only her and her dragon, she found the peace and reprieve she so often needed from the political machinations of the Red Keep and its court.
Rhaenyra gently patted Syrax on the neck and spoke in High Valyrian.
"Let us return now, Syrax."
She had been flying for a little over an hour. Though she wished to remain in the sky longer, she didn't want to be late. She had recently been appointed cupbearer to the Small Council, and despite her desire for freedom, she didn't want to disappoint her father.
Syrax let out a soft, understanding growl, acknowledging the command. The dragon banked left, skimming over the sea of clouds, heading back toward the Red Keep.
Rhaenyra's gaze remained steady, but something in the clouds caught her attention. She could've sworn she saw spikes—dark black spines—just barely breaking through the white mist. They parted the clouds briefly like a shark's fin cutting through water, then vanished again beneath them.
It was only a brief glimpse, and she wasn't sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her, but a chill of unease crept up her spine. Syrax, sensing her rider's worry, looked back at her.
Rhaenyra patted Syrax gently and spoke again in High Valyrian.
"I'm fine, Syrax."
She tried to soothe both herself and her dragon. But then she heard it—the distant sound of flapping wings. Not that of a bird; it was too heavy. It was faint at first, likely far away, but fast approaching. With every beat, the sound grew louder, carrying a weight that sent a tremor through the sky.
She thought it might be Syrax, but the rhythm was off. It didn't match her dragon's wingbeats.
"Is there another dragon in the sky?" she wondered, anxiety building in her chest.
Her fingers tightened around the reins as she urged Syrax to fly faster. Her eyes darted around, scanning the clouds. She saw brief disturbances—pockets of air parting below—but never fast enough to catch a clear glimpse of whatever was hidden within.
Rhaenyra swallowed nervously and slowed Syrax, wanting her voice to carry more clearly.
"T-This isn't funny... If this is you, I'll tell Viserys!" she shouted into the open sky, hoping someone would respond.
Silence. Not even the sound of wings besides Syrax's remained.
Then—without warning—a massive, black-winged form burst through the clouds directly beneath her, soaring upward. Syrax reared back in shock, and Rhaenyra clutched the saddle tightly. If not for the latches holding her in place, she might have been thrown off.
The creature stopped its ascent and hovered above her. Now, she could see it clearly.
Bahamut.
Vhaehra's dragon had grown fast, now reaching nearly 37 meters in length, with a wingspan of 45 meters. Coal-black scales covered most of its body, save for its wings and underbelly, which were a light gray. Most striking of all were its eyes—bright sapphires that seemed to peer into her very soul.
Lithe yet powerful, Bahamut had three long, menacing claws on each forearm same for its talons. Atop it's head on the back where two long straight black horns protruding from the back of its skull straight back. The sight of him invoked fear in any who looked upon him.
Rhaenyra tore her gaze away from the dragon and looked at the rider. Vhaehra, her younger sister, was laughing uncontrollably—clearly amused by her prank.
"Hahaha! You should've seen how scared you and Syrax were!"
As the fear left Rhaenyra's body, anger surged in its place.
"Vhaehra, what you did was wrong and reckless! I could've fallen!" she snapped.
Vhaehra's laughter died down, replaced by a pout.
"But you didn't. And it was just a small prank," she replied dismissively.
Rhaenyra crossed her arms and smirked.
"I wonder what Father would say about it? Maybe he'll take away your flying privileges."
Vhaehra gasped. "You wouldn't dare!"
Rhaenyra only chuckled and gave Syrax a pat.
"Fly, Syrax."
With that, Syrax tucked his wings and dove nose-first through the clouds.
Vhaehra, caught off guard, yanked on Bahamut's reins. "Hurry, Bahamut! We can't let her get ahead!"
She smiled to herself, excited to turn this into a race. Bahamut obeyed eagerly, beating his wings hard as he picked up incredible speed. In no time, he was closing in on Rhaenyra, who now glided over Blackwater Bay, approaching the Iron Gate of King's Landing.
A massive shadow fell over her. Looking up, she saw Bahamut soaring above, wings stretched wide, rising into the sky with speed. Vhaehra waved back with a cheeky grin that made Rhaenyra scowl.
She urged Syrax forward, hoping to overtake her little sister. But no matter how hard Syrax pushed, they remained just behind Bahamut's tail.
---
Vhaehra – POV
Bahamut landed in front of the massive entrance to the Dragonpit. The dragonkeepers immediately surrounded him, guiding him gently and keeping him calm. Vhaehra dismounted, sliding down Bahamut's wing and landing with a soft thud.
"My lady."
She turned to see Ser Harrold Westerling atop his horse.
"Ser Harrold," she greeted respectfully.
She approached Bahamut and gently rubbed his head, patting down his neck. Resting her head against his scales, she whispered in High Valyrian.
"Great job today, Bahamut."
She stepped back, allowing the keepers to lead him inside.
"Rhaenyra should be here momentarily, if you're worried," she said casually.
Ser Harrold gave a small, relieved smile. "That's good to hear. Saves me from being mounted on a spike if something happened to either of you girls."
Vhaehra smiled sheepishly.
"Hmm, where's Ashara Dayne?" she asked, noticing her lady-in-waiting was missing.
"She's in the carriage with Lady Alicent," Ser Harrold answered promptly.
Vhaehra nodded and made her way to the carriage just as Syrax flew overhead. She stepped inside with a bright smile, greeting the two ladies within.