From Storms to Thrones (Part 1)

Chapter 21: The Weight of Waiting

This had to work.

There was no other option.

The dragons loomed ahead, their massive forms shifting restlessly as they sensed the tension in their riders. Their scales caught the faint light of dawn, reflecting it in eerie, shifting patterns that danced across the clearing. Meleys, the Red Queen, stood out among them, her crimson scales gleaming even in the dim light. She was a force of nature, her presence dominating the space around her. Rhaenys approached her with the calm grace of someone who had done this countless times before, her hand reaching out to stroke the dragon's neck with a familiarity that spoke of years of shared experience. There was a bond between them, a bond forged in fire and blood, and it was palpable even to those of us who stood at a distance.

I kept my distance, still adjusting to the surreal reality of what was happening. The Cannibal was nearby, his dark, brooding presence a constant reminder of the deadly power I was now linked to. He was a creature of shadow and flame, his scales a deep, ominous black that seemed to absorb the light around him. His green eyes were glowing were like twin embers, burning with a feral intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. He watched me with those intense eyes, a silent challenge in his gaze, as if daring me to prove myself worthy. I had called him the Demon Dragon, and he had accepted the title with a kind of pride that only a creature as fierce and untamable as he could possess. Now, as I approached him, I could feel the connection between us humming with anticipation.

The others were preparing as well. Baela stood beside Moondancer, her young dragon practically vibrating with eagerness, her wings twitching as if the beast could barely contain its energy. Baela's face was set with determination, her jaw clenched, her eyes focused. She was young, but there was a strength in her that belied her years, a fierce resolve that matched her dragon's restlessness. She looked over at me, her gaze steady, and gave a small nod that I returned.

We were all in this together now, bound by the decisions made in that war room and the fates that awaited us on the battlefield.

Rhaenyra was the last to approach her dragon. Syrax, her yellow scales reflecting the dawn, stood at the front. There was something almost ethereal about her, a creature of light in a world growing increasingly dark. Rhaenyra's expression was unreadable, a mask of composure that hid the myriad of thoughts and emotions she must have been feeling.

She paused for a moment, her eyes sweeping over all of us, her gaze lingering on each face as if committing us to memory. When her eyes met mine, they held for a moment, a silent exchange that needed no words.

"Remember the plan," she said, her voice carrying over the distance between us with a calm authority that was impossible to ignore. "We ride as one, but we fight our own battles. Trust your instincts, trust your dragons, and trust each other."

I nodded, along with the others. The gravity of the situation was not lost on any of us. This was not just another battle; it was a turning point. All of Westeros would watch what unfolded today, and it would remember.

Without another word, Rhaenyra mounted Syrax, her movements fluid and practiced.

The rest of us followed suit, each taking our place on our dragons. I climbed up the makeshift ladder with more confidence than I felt, my hands trembling even as my heart raced with adrenaline. Every step felt heavier, the weight of what was about to unfold pressing down on me like a physical force. But I forced myself to keep moving, drawing strength from the sight of the others preparing alongside me. When I finally settled into the saddle, I could barely keep my hands steady as I secured the buckles to my armor, the leather straps biting into my skin as I pulled them tight.

At least I wasn't the only one buckling in today. I caught sight of Rhaenyra up front, methodically fastening her own buckles, her movements precise and focused. There was a calm efficiency to her actions, a steady confidence that spoke of her experience and resolve.