Baelon II Velaryon is the son of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Just like his mother he was a strong willed dragon rider. Built for the clouds and forged for fire. He was meant for greatness. But the legacy of his family weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Love...
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Driftmarks beach.
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Later that night.
Aemond peers up from the dirt-covered ground, pain and anger filling his ears, he watches Vhagar from afar. His heart pounding against his chest, his blood rushing in his veins. Adrenaline and anticipation ran through his veins. The harsh winds blew into his messy hair, slightly clouding his vision, but he was focused.
He looks back, contemplating on turning back. Aemond looks back to the towering dragon. "Fuck." He curses, his breath heavy.
The young Prince, moves down the small hill he was hidden on, swallowing his nerves down.
....
Soft footsteps break the sand from below the hill. Aemond attempts to be stealthy, but all he can hear is the pounding of his heart and the violent crashing of the sea waves.
Slowly, Aemond approaches the sleeping dragon, calming his breathing.
Vhagar was a large beauty, her wings covering most of the sandy beach. Aemond was nothing compared to the wild beast. Her soft snores caused large tremors along the beach.
Aemond felt his fear slowly fade for a brief moment, feeling awe when he stared at her. He knew he would claim her, but even then he was intimidated by the concept.
Slowly he reaches towards her, his hand grabbing one of her clawed wings, climbing on top of her. Vhagar opens her eyes, a deep rumble emerging from her throat. She stares at him as he climbs up her wing.
Aemond kept going, even if he felt her stare at him. He swallowed his anxiety down, straining every muscle to make his way up towards the empty saddle, which belonged to only two other riders, Visenya and Laena. Both were dead.
He was finally settled on top of her saddle.
Vhagar growls and she rustles in her spot.
Aemond softly gasps, grabbing hold of her rope, and leaning forward. "Soves!" Aemond yells, his voice loud and fierce. After years of watching the others train and command their dragons, all those years are put to use.
Vhagar growls, turning her head, her large eye glaring and defiant.
"Dohaeras, Vhagar! Soves!" Aemond yells
Vhagar slowly stands, moving forward, shaking Aemond who gasps, holding on.
Vhagar stretches her wings, shaking violently, almost as if to shake the young and foolish prince off. Aemond only groans, holding on for dear life. He almost slips but he grabs onto the saddle at the last second.
