Chapter 7: Capture
My life changed following the Great Council of 101 AC.
Many things were expected of me, with my Father now heir to the Iron Throne.
Everything I did would be judged not as the child but as the Prince and future ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.
This naturally meant that I could no longer have a childhood. Any time previously reserved for play and mischief had been replaced with the sword and chivalry.
My days were now filled with responsibilities, obligations, and expectations that I was not sure I was ready for.
As a Prince, it was my duty to put the needs of the kingdom and its people above my own desires.
I had no choice in the matter. My input was never considered. There was no job interview or process to know I was qualified. I was simply chosen.
As such, it was imperative they drilled in the skills they thought necessary for rule. Ser Ryam and I saw a lot more of each other.
"A Prince should know how to ride and handle himself with the sword," he so often reminded me, "Try again. This time make it perfect."
For perhaps the most deadly knight on the continent, Ser Ryam wasn't exactly the most creative of teachers. So many times, I would beg him to show me the counter riposte. Not once did he indulge me.
"Once you can swing your sword one hundred times without getting tired, I'll show you."
But once I got there, it became two hundred, then three…
My arms went numb once it got to ten.
Everything I did had to be a lesson. Supper became teaching about etiquette when I just wanted to eat at the end of the day. A relaxed read about Nymeria and her ten thousand ships became lectures on diplomacy and communication.
The irony was that I found an artistic beauty in all of these things, yet the way my Father imposed them onto me sucked any life from their expression.
I began to wonder how all previous kings appeared sane in front of the masses. Then I realized that to these people, this way of life was normal. King Jaehaerys didn't grow up with memories of a past life as I did.
As the days passed, I felt like I was being suffocated by my own title. Every move I made, every word I spoke, and every thought I had was scrutinized and analyzed by advisors and courtiers. I couldn't even breathe without someone telling me how to do it properly.
At first, I tried to keep my cool and play the part of the perfect prince. But as the pressure mounted and the demands piled up, I could feel something deep inside me beginning to stir. It was a rage, a raw and primal emotion ready to roar.
I tried to keep it under control, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave. The more I tried to suppress it, the stronger it became. It was like the dragon within me was trying to break free from its chains, to stretch its wings and breathe fire.
And I couldn't blame it. I wanted to breathe and stretch out too. I wanted to be free of the court's expectations, demands, and suffocating atmosphere. I wanted to be a prince, but I also wanted to be a person.
But I kept up my performance. I played the part of the perfect prince, even as the fire inside me burned hotter and hotter.
That was until shortly after my seventh name day.
I was visiting the chambers of King Jaehaerys. It seemed that the old King used the remainder of his strength during the Great Council, for he never left his bed.
Alicent was reading him 'The Edge of the World' by Maester Balder when I arrived.
That made me smile.
"I didn't think a lady like you would be interested in a place like Skagos."
She smelt of lilac today. Alicent closed the book and granted me a smirk, "I have to get out somehow."
I took a chair and sat beside her by the bed, "With the amount you read to GrandGrace, you two have been all over the world by now."
There was a pause as we both looked at him, lost in slumber.
"How is he?" I said.
"Fine. He falls asleep like this when I read to him in the afternoon."
Alicent always did her best not to show sadness around me regarding King Jaehaerys.
And sometimes, after a long day, I would return to my chambers to find a vase with a beautiful flower from the garden waiting for me on the table.
It was a small gesture, but it meant the world. I looked forward to coming home and seeing what splash of colour and fragrance Alicent had left me.
"… What's wrong?" she asked.
I turned away from Alicent and gazed out the window, my eyes fixed on the distant Dragonpit.
"Nothing. I just get sick of it sometimes," I said.
Alicent's voice was soft as she asked, "Sick of what?"
I gestured to myself, "Being treated like a show pony, trained and bred for rule. It's like I'm captured."
Alicent's expression became sympathetic. "I'm sorry."
We both understood the feeling of being trapped by our respective roles.
"Do you want a hug?" Alicent asked with a teasing smile.
I couldn't help but laugh. "At least I can recognize when my Father locks me up high in a tower. What's your excuse?"
Alicent pouted, "I am not in a high tower!"
I teased her back, "Are too!"
"Am not!"
Our banter continued, and we both struggled to keep straight faces. But eventually, our facade crumbled, and we dissolved into laughter. However, the moment was fleeting, and our sombre moods returned.
As the weight of our duties settled back onto our shoulders, Alicent asked me a serious question.
"Rhaenar," she said softly.
I turned to face her, "Yeah?"
"If I really was locked in a high tower, would you rescue me?"
I chuckled, "What, like in the songs?"
Alicent's tone was earnest, "Don't laugh."
Despite my initial amusement, I could see the same sense of suffocation in her eyes that I was feeling. I broke the tension, "What a silly song that would make! Alicent Hightower, locked in a high tower!"
After we shared a moment of laughter, I posed a serious question to Alicent.
"If you had the choice to leave and live the life you truly wanted, would you take it?"
Alicent seemed taken aback by the idea of complete freedom, unsure of how to respond. "Why would I want to leave? It's nice here," she finally replied.
"But did you choose to be here?" I countered.
Alicent's expression fell as she realized the truth in my words. "I suppose not," she said softly.
I regretted asking the question, feeling a sense of discomfort settle in my chest. "Never mind, forget I said anything," I muttered.
But Alicent's eyes were fixed on me now. "Would you leave?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I was stunned. No one had ever asked me that before. Maybe I was asking myself when I posed the question to Alicent.
The weight of my responsibilities as a prince felt like a tight noose around my neck. The anger and frustration boiled inside me, but I couldn't bring myself to say it aloud. Instead, I sat there in silence, unsure of how to respond.
As I pondered my question, I realized that I asked it without truly being invested in the answer. It reminded me of gang bangers who talk about getting out of the hood, or addicts who discuss sobriety while continuing to share needles.
I realized that anyone can be institutionalized, no matter the setting, even individuals like a Prince residing in the Red Keep.
Therefore, the questions of 'how?', 'why?', and 'what would you do after?' are hollow expressions used to avoid acknowledging the fact that we have constructed our own barriers, entangling ourselves within them. In essence, we have become trapped by our own making.
Yet even with this realization, none of it helped my plight.
Just as I started to feel trapped by my responsibilities, my sister burst into the King's chambers like a ray of silver sunshine.
"Rhaenar!" she exclaimed, breathless with excitement.
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn't help but feel curious. "What is it?"
Rhaenyra hugged me tightly, pressing her cheeks against mine. "Thank you!"
I was puzzled. "For what?"
"For keeping your promise."
My mind raced, trying to recall what promise I had made. Then it hit me. "You don't mean..."
"Uh-huh!" Rhaenyra was practically bouncing with joy. "Father finally said yes!"
Three years ago, after the death of Princess Gael, we had argued over a promise that I couldn't keep. Rhaenyra had used that argument to make me swear a compromise: I wouldn't ride my dragon until she could ride hers. We would have our first flight together.
Without that promise, I would have shattered the record for the youngest dragon rider in Targaryen history.
It wasn't fear of death or of heights that held me back. It was something I couldn't quite articulate. The fear that the first step I took as a dragon rider would be met with sudden, unexpected danger, leaving me alone once again.
But with Rhaenyra by my side, I didn't have to worry about being alone.
I dressed and joined my family in the lower courtyard, where Father had an entourage of nobodies around him, no doubt eager to witness the first flight of "Rhaenar the Ready."
Mother was dressed casually in an earthy black dress with red laces, but her beauty was undeniable. Every day, she reminded me why Father always said she was the fairest woman in all the land.
We got into the Royal wagon and trolled our way to the Dragonpit. The entire time, Rhaenyra squeezed my hand to the point my fingers went cold and blue.
Upon arrival, Zed and his acolytes were there, overseeing Sundance's emergence from underground.
According to Brien's records, Sundance's growth had significantly increased following the Great Council of 101 AC. Food restrictions were lifted with the King's health declining, and Father took a more active role on the small council. My Father believed the official heir's dragon should be exceptional.
Brien's notes indicated that Sundance was around 20 feet long at age four, with a growth rate of five feet/ per year.
However, the growth rate rapidly accelerated, and by age six, Sundance had doubled in length to 40 feet, putting the growth rate at nearly 7 feet/ per year.
Sundance was estimated to be around 47 feet long, but with more feeding and exercise, he measured around 50.
It was difficult to pinpoint the exact factors that influenced his growth.
Zed believed that a dragon's growth varied with each individual, with age, diet, and freedom of movement converging into the overall formula.
Brien tended to agree, citing how Sundance's increased growth corresponded with more frequent exercise after he started flying.
When Syrax emerged, the size difference between the two dragons was palpable, with Syrax only measuring around 40 feet at best.
However, it's worth considering that Syrax was almost the same size as Sundance at the age of six.
Rhaenyra, responsible for Syrax's care, wasn't present at the Dragonpit regularly to control diet and exercise like I was. By all accounts of logic, Sundance should have been exponentially bigger.
As a result, more questions arose regarding the nature of a dragon's growth. Our little project of data keeping turned into a posit of frustration.
Brien suggested running experiments when I had more Princely authority, but the idea of forcibly chaining such gorgeous creatures for science didn't sit well with me.
Nonetheless, Zed noted several times that Sundance was well on his way to becoming a steed worthy of a King, which was good enough for me.
Sundance playfully zipped around Syrax, sporting a few battle scars from his childhood playfights.
He was considerably faster on the ground, using his agility to hop in a side-jumping fashion around his opponent and nip at their ankles, a tactic he developed at an early age to annoy his bigger, older, more cranky peers.
This ankle-nipping habit earned him a reputation as a troublemaker among the Dragons, who remained vigilant around him. Still, they appreciated the attention Sundance gave them. It was all out of love, and you'd be surprised at how emotionally intelligent they are.
Today, Sundance only pretended to nip at Syrax's ankles, teasing her as she 'caught' him.
The reality of riding such a gigantic fire-breathing beast hit me as Zed gave Rhaenyra and me a health and safety briefing in Valyrian, instructing us to attach the chain to our belts while on Dragonback to avoid falling to our death if we lost our grip in the air.
Despite Rhaenyra's playful complaints, Zed demonstrated the procedure. All onlookers gasped with anticipation as Rhaenyra approached Syrax, waiting for Father's nod of approval.
From our side-on view, we watched as Syrax lowered her head, nostrils flaring at the scent of my sister, pupils dilating.
Then, as if Syrax instinctively knew, she leaned herself perfectly, allowing Rhaenyra the perfect climbing point onto her back.
After saddling up, Rhaenyra secured the safety chain to her belt.
Because I was paranoid, I modified the traditional design by including an off-stemming chain attached to the main chain near the end, which acts as a secondary attachment point in case the primary one fails.
To aid in visualizing, the typical safety chain takes on the shape of the letter "I," with two endpoints joined by a primary chain.
On the other hand, my modified version has a shape reminiscent of the letter "P," with an additional loop branching out from the main chain.
The additional measures I took wouldn't make a difference if the main chain were to snap. I was aware of that.
However, as a boy in my past life, my Father took me indoor rock climbing, where they used a double safety system on their harnesses.
I remembered the reassuring feeling of the double safety system used in the harnesses. Whether I tackled the beginner wall barely off the ground or the expert wall that went four stories high, I never felt like falling meant certain death.
If I was going to soar through the skies on the back of a dragon, I wanted nothing less than the utmost safety. And if the golden-haired Prince and future king-to-be was taking such precautions, there was no way my Father would have Rhaenyra do any less.
She looked odd up there, a tiny thing on a big magical beast. I could almost feel the surge of power go through her veins thanks to our twin connection.
Then she commanded in High Valarian for Syrax to fly.
< "Sōvēs!">
And just like that, they were in the air. The take-off was a little clunky, and Rhaenyra acted like she couldn't believe it, but they were in the air.
They flapped around our vicinity, and with each second, Rhaenyra's confidence increased.
"Wohooo!"
"Keep it low!" Father nagged, "Don't stray too far from the Dragonpit!"
I'd seen Syrax fly many times but never had her yellow scales looked so beautiful as they did with Rhaenyra riding her.
Watching her fly for a moment almost allowed me an escape until Zed brought me back to earth.
< "Now you, my Prince.">
I knew I had to put aside my doubts. The crowd was watching.
Show time.
Sensing my mood switch, Sundance went stern. Menacing, teeth barred.
As I approached, the onlookers subconsciously took steps back. It must have seemed like Sundance genuinely wanted to eat me. He was only playing.
Sundance lowered his head, and I could see my reflection in his amber eyes.
"This is it, huh?"
Sundance slowly blinked as if to say, 'Finally!'
"Thank you for being so patient, friend."
My heart pumped pure adrenaline as I climbed onto the saddle. Sundance jolted as if about to take off immediately, but he responded to my tug on the reins. I could feel the simpatico connection between us.
The view from up there was something to behold. I glanced at Father and Mother, their prideful eyes swelling with tears.
Then, with one last steel of my nerves, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
< "Sōvēs!">
Sundance responded instantly to my command, which surprised me initially, much like how your foot is heavy on the accelerator when you first learn to drive.
His running take-off alone threatened to unhorse me. I tightened my grip.
The motion of Sundance's wings stirred up a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. Before I could grasp what was happening, a rush of frigid air hit my eyes, and I was overcome with a sense of weightlessness as the ground receded into the distance.
Flight.
The flight aboard Sundance was far from smooth. His unique flying style involved powerful wing flaps that abruptly altered his trajectory. It felt reminiscent of bull riding, with each wing flap causing Sundance to buck and veer off course.
If you looked up and saw the mass of shiny golden scales flying this way, you might think the Sun was dancing.
I needed to take control.
< "Calm. Calm! Fly calm!">
But Sundance got carried away in the excitement of our first flight. The goofball increased his speed until I finally blew.
"I said fly fucking straight!"
The key to our success wasn't the words but rather the inflexion in my voice and the intention behind it. In response, Sundance unfurled his wings, and we soared through the sky with serenity.
In that calm, with Kings Landing below, the air lightly brushing my face, something in me changed. The dragon within me screamed for the first time with impunity.
"Wohooooo!"
We flew over Father and Mother, and I could hear my Father shouting his safety concerns.
Then Rhaenyra pulled beside me on Syrax, and we shared a knowing smirk. This was the most fantastic feeling of our lives.
A certain feeling took over us when my sister and I locked eyes.
Whether it was hubris, overconfidence, or even the infamous Targaryen arrogance, we both instantly knew that settling for hovering around the Dragonpit was not an option.
Without a single word spoken, Syrax changed course, and I trailed along. We ascended higher and higher above Blackwater Bay as the Red Keep gradually shrank in the distance until we could not see it through the clouds.
We soared in a holding pattern, basking at the moment. Syrax and Sundance twirled around each other like Koi fish, a yin and yang dance of glimmering scales in the azure sky.
"Amazing!" I shouted.
"I want to do this for the rest of my life!" Rhaenyra exclaimed.
"Even if you're that slow?" I asked.
Rhaenyra slanted her eyes challengingly. She pouted her lips and raised her chin in that silly way she does, and I knew what was coming next.
"Race you back!" she said, sprinting off.
I watched her and Syrax plunge into a dive and was taken aback. My sister had enough bravery for both of us.
There was no way I'd let her win.
'You're on!' I thought as Sundance, and I dived in unison.
It didn't take long for us to catch up. Sundance dove at a steeper angle than Syrax, so we had more speed. We dove together, side by side, through the clouds, and as the Blackwater drew closer, Rhaenyra and I never took our eyes off each other. It was the ultimate game of chicken; the first to pull up would lose.
But in my childish thirst for competition, I dove at too steep an angle. The g-force increased, and the wind pulled the flesh on my face. Rhaenyra pulled up.
'Yes!' I thought.
'I won!'
But Sundance got lost in the moment, and he didn't respond to my tug on the reins. We kept plummeting, and I felt my grip loosen.
"Shit!"
I had to let go, or I would have lost my arm.
Sundance fell ahead of me, and the safety chain yanked me with him. The sudden snap winded me, and my back seared with pain. I could only grit my teeth and hold on for dear life.
We approached the water, and for a moment, I thought Sundance would dive in. At the last second, he reared up, flying just above the water, his tail brushing against it.
As for me, I was dragged under the water.
Saltwater battered my eyes and sent needles up my nose. The pain was so intense that I screamed, but that only allowed water to rush into the back of my mouth.
It didn't take long for thoughts of death to consume me. I couldn't breathe and had been in this predicament for only seconds at best.
Instead of giving in to peril, a rage brewed inside me. With all the contempt and bitterness I could muster, I thought,
'Sundance, you fucking idiot. Pull up!'
And miraculously, he did.
"Gack!"
My lungs exploded, and I spun uncontrollably. Sundance flew higher above the water's surface, and my lifeless arms skimmed the water, which helped slow my spinning.
When I regained my bearings, I could see Rhaenyra riding above, her face displaying worry.
"Are you okay?!" she yelled.
I gave her a weak thumbs-up. I couldn't speak; I was too winded.
We flew back to the Dragonpit. Everyone covered their mouths as Sundance landed, and I dangled from him.
As if apologizing, Sundance tried to land softly. I still scraped against the ground, my elbows and knees clotted with blood and dirt.
Rhaenyra landed and quickly dismounted, rushing to my side. "Rhaenar!"
Father, Mother, Zed, and the countless onlookers came running.
Before they could get too close, I raised a weak hand and exclaimed, "Don't!"
Lying there momentarily, I gaped at the sky I had just soared through. My once braided hair was now wet and loose, and my back was tight with pain.
This was a moment of truth. If I allowed someone to help me stand now, I might as well call it quits. I could stay on the ground, and all of this Princely nonsense could disappear. I could fade into the obscure mist of mediocrity, just another King who served his tenure but did nothing noteworthy.
However, every fibre of my soul rejected that idea. What was so easy to consider earlier that afternoon was now impossible.
Up in the sky, I found the answer: I am a Dragon.
Captured by the wind.
With all the willpower I could muster, I tried to stand. My back screamed, each breath burning the spine. I collapsed.
'Stand, you idiot. Stand!'
Failure was not an option. I bit down as hard as possible and dug my fist into the dirt, slowly pushing myself up. My arms jittered, and my legs wobbled, but I managed to stand.
Barely.
Everyone watched in silence, their faces drained of color.
Then, with everything I had left, I let out a wispy laugh
"Let's do that again!"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
ssyffix
ssyffix What started as a simple concept of having the chapter go "Rhaenar before fly, meh. Rhaenar after fly, YAY!" turned into some bad writers block lmao
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