[Chapter Size: 3500 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Arctic, 298 AC.

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Jon arrived in Arctic descending from more than 15 thousand feet while the kingdom was so vast it occupied the entire region, yet the city itself was just a small dot.

Jon knew that Arctic had less than 10% of its maximum capacity, after all the city was designed to house millions of inhabitants. And still, there were districts meant for manufacturing and other work, not habitable, within the city itself.

In any case, Jon continued descending, but toward the mountain of the dragons in the south. If no one was looking at the sky at that moment, they would not see the king’s dragon returning, except for the wargs watching over the skies of Arctic.

Jon landed Vezofēdrur at the foot of the mountain while the dwarves were already exclaiming at the giant beast nearly destroying all the forges they had built and those they were finishing.

Vezofēdrur could not find a place among the smaller dragons on the mountain, for obvious reasons, after all there was no way to place a 100-meter dragon on any platform of the mountain.

Upon landing, Eragon soon appeared coming from the city, after all he could sense Jon entering the space north of the wall and left the castle where he was.

Jon settled Vezofēdrur as he stopped in his improvised nest. He waited for Vezofēdrur to get comfortable before beginning to descend the rope ladder, taking some things from his saddle.

“Does the saddle bother you much?” Jon asked as he hit the ground while the enormous head with the single green eye stared at him before snorting. Confirming it.

“Alright, I’ll leave it off for a day, but tomorrow we’ll need to use it again. I want you to do something with me.” Jon spoke in High Valyrian.

The dragon only stared at him and slightly dilated its pupil, as if responding with something like ‘whatever.’

“Now, turn around, I need to remove the saddle straps.” He requested while Vezofēdrur shifted and turned on the ground. But he did not fail to emit a sound.

“Alright… I’m already asking them to bring you food.” He said while taking on another animal in the mountains of the dragons. A group of people stayed there to care for the dragons’ feeding, Jon had a common bird there to warn them when he needed something. The king’s arrival was easily seen by them with the giant dragon descending from the sky, while they quickly saw the bird indicating they should bring food for Vezofēdrur. And in a swift move, they began gathering, as usual, a large amount of food for that dragon.

Meanwhile, the dragons were already making sounds from the mountain’s platforms and began leaping from them, advancing downward with their wings spread as they saw Jon arriving.

Jon was there beginning to work on Vezofēdrur’s saddle while already anticipating being surrounded by smaller dragons soon. Vezofēdrur hated this kind of approach and started pushing the smaller dragons away whenever this happened, often violently. Jon knew of the old reputation of Cannibal, who ate smaller dragons at Dragonstone. Obviously, he had to take measures against the dragon, making it clear that he would not eat any of the dragons there. Jon had to be threatening enough for the dragon to start yielding to his will.

Vezofēdrur was never a friendly dragon, he was hostile, excessively violent, and malicious. Jon often had to enter his mind to restrain that nature. He could never have tamed this dragon if he had not wounded him as he and Eragon once did. He was always a dragon to be conquered through strength. It was no wonder he was once considered the wildest dragon among the dragons, and no one had ever managed to tame him.

In any case, Jon began removing the buckles that held the saddle with a strap, with the dragon lying at an angle so Jon could reach the line of more than 100 straps that formed the saddle. And he was the only one who could do this with Vezofēdrur. The dragon accepted no one else except the children, Dany and Rhaenys, and that only with Jon present. Riding him was out of the question.

So Jon was already removing the buckle of the tenth strap when the first dragons were landing near him, young ones seeking his attention. They came with small growls and cries.

Vezofēdrur’s head immediately glared at them and snarled. He did not like small dragons bothering him, and he hated even more when they came near his exposed belly in that way.

“Calm down. And you, stay away! I will give you attention when I finish here.” Jon roared in High Valyrian at the dragons trying to approach him.

That seemed to work on those foolish young ones, using his powers to place his will into their minds, while more than 17 young dragons were already there, trying to get closer.

Jon continued removing all the buckles, ignoring some protests that some of them still made. Eragon finally arrived from the sky roaring while Jon was on the fortieth buckle, continuing to remove them all.

Jon simply sent a command to Eragon through the bond, being stronger than all the others. The dragon seemed to hear him, landing at a distance before approaching with his huge white body speckled with small green dots. He placed his head among the smaller dragons and began pushing them away with a few growls.

Doing what Jon could not do, while Jon could now focus solely on removing Vezofēdrur’s saddle.

It took about 30 minutes to remove a saddle more than 10 meters long. Jon had tamed Vezofēdrur just a little more than a week ago, but he had immediately worked on his saddle, together with other artisans of the kingdom, after Jon himself had drawn the project.

As soon as he removed the last buckle of that strap, Vezofēdrur quickly shifted, moving his body backward with a thrust while his saddle began sliding to the other side. Jon watched it being dragged along the belly and moving toward the back before falling to the other side.

Vezofēdrur seemed satisfied with this as he began to rise again.

“Don’t forget I’m down here under you!” Jon did not fail to complain, seeing him place his winged arm down to lift himself. But he waited for Jon to completely get off his belly before raising his body.

Jon kept walking as the giant dragon adjusted himself and was soon surrounded by Eragon and the dragon hatchlings.

“You seem angry, my friend. Are you upset because I didn’t take you to the south?” Jon asked as he approached the dragon, who indeed looked irritated with his father.

He only let out a growl while the smaller dragons came closer to Jon.

“One at a time, you’re too big to pile on top of me, do you want to kill me?” Jon mocked, seeing more than a dozen reptilian heads making dragon sounds as they approached, demanding his attention and touch.

The men with the food Jon had requested approached with wagons carrying countless carcasses of oxen and other animals.

They seemed hesitant as Vezofēdrur looked at them with his single, hungry eye. They seemed to seek Jon’s guidance upon seeing the dragon moving away, while the king was surrounded by dragons almost 6 or 8 meters long, while Eragon was about 32 meters in length.

“It’s best to leave the food where you are and get out of there as fast as you can, I’ll hold Vezofēdrur so he doesn’t devour the wagons along with it. Do it quickly.” Jon said, raising his voice with magic.

The Arcticans understood the king’s order and began unloading the wagons with the carcasses. It didn’t take long before the place was filled with them on the ground, and the men didn’t need to be told twice before they started leaving.

Vezofēdrur was released from Jon’s control through the bond, and the enormous dragon dropped from the nest after tossing his saddle aside with his teeth, since it was taking up space in the nest.

“If you damage that saddle, I swear I’ll make you fix it.” Jon growled, watching Vezofēdrur treat his saddle as if it were a plague. The dragon seemed to want him to fly with him but disliked the saddle, something Jon didn’t understand. And riding directly on the dragon was horrible and uncomfortable over the hours; his skin was hard, and even with the hardened and resistant body Jon had developed over the years thanks to his potions, it was still dreadful for him.

In any case, Vezofēdrur began feasting on the carcasses, his mouth dwarfed nothing, while his teeth were larger than the carcasses themselves.

Jon now gave attention to the small dragons while asking them to calm down, otherwise he risked being crushed once again.

Either way, Jon spent some time with the dragons; he had been giving attention to them as well, while his children had not yet been chosen by them.

The good thing was that there were many females among them; he could start a production of new dragons. That was why so many platforms had been built on the thousand-meter-high mountain. The dragons were creating caves, with Jon monitoring together with some dwarves, to ensure they didn’t harm the mountain and cause landslides.

It was a somewhat troublesome task, but just like Vezofēdrur, who had dug tunnels in a dormant volcano to find heat, they did the same to make their nests. Jon had studied very well how Dragonstone worked and how the Targaryens kept their dragons. The platforms would be a great way to reach where each dragon lived, though it would be quite a walk to the top. But that was not something meant for dragonriders; instead, the platforms would be for new riders, his children and descendants, to reach the dragons and their nests within the caves they would create.

Jon left the dragons once he noticed someone staring at him from a distance, alone with a horse. Already wanting to speak to that very person, Jon looked at one of the dragons, a female with a red body and some black scales.

“I’ll go on you, take me there.” Jon asked, ignoring the roars of protest from her peers as he mounted her back. Jon prevented the other dragons from following him and cast one last glance at Eragon.

“I’ll give you attention as soon as I finish my business, alright?” Jon asked, while his son did not seem very pleased. Jon quickly returned his focus to the red dragon as they moved away.

“Do you think you can carry me to him flying, girl?” Jon asked while the dragon let out a sound as if accepting a challenge. The next moment, she began running while flapping her wings, not seeming very steady at first, but soon she started leaping and surging forward. She was one of the second batch of dragons, born at sea, and therefore still had some difficulty flying. There were others who already carried Jon and his children, though Jon had never allowed them to truly ride yet—not until they reached the age he had set.

The last thing he wanted was to see his children getting hurt. Loki and Lyanna were the oldest, but they were barely 4 namedays old.

The female soon lifted off the ground with Jon in his armor on her back. She was flying many meters high as she approached the man, who was startled when one of the dragons broke away from the chaos and came toward him.

He only sighed in relief when he saw the man riding on her back. He waited for the dragon to land, a bit clumsily, while Jon laughed on her back.

“You did very well, girl… My children call you Strawberry, if I’m not mistaken… I… think I should adopt that name.” Jon said joyfully.

As absurd as it seemed, many of his children loved strawberries, and they played among themselves by calling the unnamed dragons with made-up names, usually childish and innocent, inspired by things they often found in their daily lives.

He remembered very well that this dragon had been repeatedly called Strawberry by Lyanna, helping her siblings choose dragons for themselves. Jon did not choose names for dragons without riders, because he usually thought of the dragon he wanted to speak to through his abilities with the blood of the First Names, and they obeyed everything he said. He always wanted to leave it to the dragonriders to assume the name, as this would strengthen a bond.

So practically all the younger dragons had silly names—Strawberry was one of them. But there was also one that Bran liked to call Pudding Pie, and the poor thing seemed to growl every time someone called him that.

Strawberry didn’t seem to be any different, as she looked at Jon as if he had given her a personal insult.

“I’ll think of a better name for you in the future.” Jon said, dismounting her back with ease.

“My king…” the man soon said as Jon turned to him, seeing him calm his horse, which disliked being near a creature larger than a wagon. Jon simply sent a mental command, and the horse calmed down while the man, over 50 years old, kept his head bowed to Jon.

“Maester Marwyn, I’m surprised to find you here. I just arrived in Arctic.” Jon said to the maester he had taken from the Citadel when he attacked it years ago.

“I saw, my king, and so did everyone in the kingdom who had their eyes on the sky at the moment you arrived. No one would doubt that the black bird is your newest and giant dragon…” he said, looking at Jon with gratitude, since his horse would never have calmed down with a dragon less than 6 meters away, not without the king’s intervention.

“Yes, I imagined the same. However, if you allow me, what are you doing here in the south, near the mountains of the dragons?” Jon asked, glancing at the dragons in the distance, still gathered under Eragon, who kept them in line with growls so they would not leave, while the young dragons behaved like children wanting to run off, complaining at Eragon. Meanwhile, Vezofēdrur was still feasting on better food than he had had in recent days.

“I came to study your dragons, my king…” Marwyn said, looking at Jon and waiting for a grimace. Jon looked thoughtful and only nodded.

“Aemon told me about your interest in dragons. Do you want to write a book about them?” Jon asked. He would not be offended by someone seeking knowledge of dragons. Arctic was open to new ideas, new classifications of things. It would be perfectly fine for someone to bring new ideas and suggestions on how they dealt with many matters. Wasn’t the idea to create a fully literate nation?

It was not as if Marwyn were going to kill a dragon and cut it open to study its body. There was no problem if the man before him was curious about dragons, and Jon had to admit he had to deal with that. There were dragons in the kingdom, but he could never truly classify them. They had different colors, some had different shapes of teeth, different wings, different necks. Some were fatter, others thinner. Even while still young, one could already see the differences among them. Not to mention that their flames could also be different. Some were gentler, others more hostile, some were cannibals.

Dragons had their subspecies. The question Jon had was: what changed them—was it magic or genetics? Eragon was changed by magic… After all, he should have been a dragon like any other known to House Targaryen or those from Valyria. He was born very different, with two distinct flames and special abilities with ice.

“If that is what you want, you may try to write some thesis, but do not approach them, you’ll only end up dealing with dragonfire. I wouldn’t even recommend you wanting to do this, even if I see no problem. In fact… I want to do it in the future, and I could even go inside Vezofēdrur’s mouth to count his teeth, as well as those of all the other dragons…” Jon said. “I intend to conduct an in-depth study on our dragons and those from the past when we had no wars knocking at our door.” Jon spoke, for it would take time. It was not only about studying their traits; he had to watch the dragons grow and see how they behaved with humans or with other dragons.

“I think you are right, it’s just that I truly am fascinated by these creatures… they represent the magic of this world…” the man said with some emotion.

“I know of your interests in arcane matters, but Seraphine might be better for you to ask.” Jon suggested.

“Indeed, my king. But I still cannot stop admiring the beauty of dragons.” Maester Marwyn said, looking at Strawberry.

“In any case, if you want to study them or even simply look at them, I won’t stop you, Maester Marwyn, just do not harm the dragons.” That was all Jon could say.

“Thank you, my king.” Marwyn turned his attention back to Jon with gratitude before Jon continued.

“There is something I wanted with you… Some things have happened in the south… We may need to stir up Westeros sooner than expected… Do you have all the evidence organized?” Jon returned to the matter he wanted to discuss.

“My king… has something happened?” Marwyn asked, surprised.

“Lannisters… Tywin’s children did not have a very simple encounter with Arya and the others. We can expect some repercussions, even more as I am planning to do other things now.” Jon said.

“I understand, my king. All the evidence is ready. This will cause such great chaos in Westeros that the results are unimaginable…” Maester Marwyn said with some caution.

“You know this will lead to the execution of many maesters… are you fine with that? I mean, you still use their title and are considered part of the order, right?” Jon asked, looking at him.

“Yes… I know many of them died for their lords. But that was the path the order chose… We are only exposing the truth of what the maesters became, though many of those who manipulated all the houses of Westeros are already dead…” Jon listened in silence, but he was satisfied with Marwyn’s words.

“I just wish I had known all of this earlier. I must admit I would have killed those Grand Maesters with far more will than I did in that room in the Citadel when we began the sack of Oldtown…” Jon admitted. The man only nodded, able to understand Jon.

“In any case, I’m leaving. Be careful not to pass through the forests of the shadowcats, they are attacking anyone who comes too close, I don’t have control over the entire kingdom.” Jon said as a bird descended from the sky carrying something in its claws. Jon stretched out his hand and it landed on his gauntlet.

“You came.” Jon simply said in gratitude, taking the items from its claws—nothing more than a brush, ink, and several blank parchments. Jon took one of them and began to write, using Strawberry herself as a desk. The dragon didn’t seem to mind being used as a table until Jon finished.

‘I am warning you that I am back home, if Eragon has not already shown that by flying from the castle. I intend to do a few things before I see you. I will be at dinner. Tell Ygritte that Lyanna is hiding in the fireplace of Dany’s room. She also took Aegon’s wooden dragon, tell her to give it back. I love you all.’ Jon had already taken a look at how his family was doing when he passed the Wall through his eyes.

He wanted to see them, but he had other things to plan first.

“See you later, Maester Marwyn.” Jon said, mounting the dragon again as the bird flew off toward the city alone, going to deliver Jon’s message to the royal family.

“Of course, my king. I will prepare everything you need in the coming days.” Marwyn said.

“Good.” Jon didn’t know if he truly needed it, but it was good to have it ready.

With that, he asked Strawberry to fly once again to his siblings, as she began running once more and spread her wings, flying toward Eragon, who would be his next ride to the north of the kingdom.

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Raccoon Here:

I don’t know if I had already defined dragons with gender or not. George R. R. Martinalways left that vague, or am I wrong? But I think it’s better to classify them as females and males among themselves to form pairs, just like Vermithor and Silverwing. Correct me if I’m wrong.

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