Kapitel 102: 102- Different perspectives.

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~~~Rhaegar Targaryen, Eighth Moon, 277 AC~~~

~~~Casterly Rock, Westerland~~~

The stability of the realm was increasingly distant from the signs of peace it once was, no matter how much the hand and my father filled their mouths saying there was never so much peace as there was now, fools, they all were all.

They were all mowed down by the ambition and gold Xandar had to offer her, even my mother was blind to the hints they had to extend their barbaric claws to my kingdom, to my crown, but her sight was blinded the moment that damned man gave her that potion.

Could they not see reality? The Reach was suffering, they had not been able to sell their grain to the North, and although they knew that the grain they sold to the North was three times more expensive and older, that was what they had, otherwise, then the Northerners should have planted their food in their cold lands, but because of just that, they could not, so it was well deserved that they bought their grain outside.

But now, instead of following the custom, and the stability established before, they decided to buy their grain outside Westeros, from foreigners who only wanted to create chaos and confusion within my borders. Now the North was richer and more powerful than before, and with its relationship with the Vale of Arryn, that position was climbing much higher.

Dorne was also gaining momentum, but with my engagement to Elia Martell, I had Dorne in my pockets, in contrast, the North had always stayed out of everything that happened in the South, and rarely went down beyond the Neck, but now, they had, and the most surprising thing about it, was that they did so to attend Tywin's wedding.

The game was changing, and Tywin was playing it on the sly, and my father didn't even realize it, or was aware of it, but didn't care, which made him less fit to rule.

"Wait for the controllers to hold the Wyvern well, Your Grace, we want no accidents, they will tell you when you may approach," Lady Janna, the woman who would be Lord Tywin's next wife, blurted out, halting my father's advance, as in front of us a wyvern was secured.

The beast looked much like the dragons drawn in the family books, its membranous wings, strong hind legs, and formidable body made for flight. Only this wyvern, paled with the grace at which dragons were depicted, their colors were dull or only of varieties of brown, pale black, or greenish, colors that failed to shine or stand out.

(Image)

But from the distance at which he stood, I could feel his ferocity and fury, his muscles were tense, and his eyes gave off a cruelty that should not be normal in an animal, which together with his open mouth and large, sharp teeth exposed, made it clear that he was not happy to be surrounded by people.

Six large, muscular men, who at first glance looked like brothers of the Mountain, held thick chains, which were attached to rings that were fastened to the long, powerful neck of the beast, those men wore armor that glowed, which spoke of magic of some unknown type.

"Naejot Māzīs, Yepa," a seventh man stood beside the wyvern and commanded it in Valyrian, and the creature reluctantly obeyed, for my part, I let out a small sigh, was this how my ancestors had felt being near a dragon? The Dragon Keepers ordered them every time a rider went to Dragonpit, and the dragon obeyed.

My father did not contain his excitement, and ignoring Lady Janna's words spoken earlier, he walked brusquely towards the wyvern without receiving approval from the men containing the beast.

The result was not surprising, and the beast, which was previously still, but angry, became enraged and trotted toward my father with its jaw open ready to attack him. And when the beast's jaws were only half a yard from my father, who had not attempted to get out of the way, the wyvern was stopped abruptly, hissing and roaring with rage.

"Dohaerās Yepa!" The shout from the man right next to the wyvern's head screamed, at the same time as the six other men holding the chains tightened them and prevented the beast's movement.

The wyvern took its attention off my father, roaring at the man and trying to bite him instead. Still, the man in a show of superior might took both of the wyvern's jaws and held them, and in one sudden movement, managed to force his mouth shut, at the same time striking him in a lower part of his eye, causing the wyvern, which had previously been full of malice and rage, to calm down.

The whole event took less than a minute, but during that minute, everyone's emotions were heightened, Ser Gerold, Ser Arthur, and Ser Oswell managed only to draw their swords, but if the wyvern controllers had not acted, those swords would not have served to bind my father together after being torn apart.

"Hahahahaha," a burst of raucous laughter broke the silence, and the members of the Royal Guard, along with Lady Janna and I, were confused as my father laughed carefree, not taking his eyes off the wyvern.

"It's fantastic!" my father raised his arms and celebrated, not noticing the heavy atmosphere that had spread, "a beautiful and strong creature, do you see Rhaegar? That's what dragons were like, our source of power, our pride, that's what it was like."

There was a faded pride and longing in his voice, something I had never seen from him, something I only heard from my mother, from times gone by before the Summerhall fire happened.

"Yes, the wyvern has been a unique creature in the world, the last thing our world has to offer that resembles the dragons of old, not counting His Majesty's dragon, of course," the man who had given the reassuring blow to the wyvern took advantage of the silence to speak, ready to provide valuable information of the beasts he dealt with daily.

"While they do not spit fire, they are very fierce and restless as you have just seen, even the slightest touch or noise bothers them, and once their temper rises, it is difficult to control them completely, having to resort to force."

"You seem very knowledgeable on the subject, my good man," my father, to my surprise, was having a 'normal' conversation with the man, he had not insulted him, nor had he yelled at him, apparently being in front of a display, albeit a low level one, of a dragon again. It made my father's condition improve, which had been very volatile for years now.

"Yes, Your Grace, I have been sharing my days with these beasts for exactly a year now, I have learned much from them, as well as helped train them and follow orders in our native language." The native language he was referring to was Valyrian, though considering Xandar is where the Slave Cities of the Slave Bay used to be, places where a Low Valyrian was spoken, it was not strange, though what was strange was that his Valyrian sounded like High Valyrian, and not the bastard Valyrian spoken in those cities.

"What about your king's dragon, do you deal with him as well?" my father didn't want to miss the opportunity to learn about dragons, and the man offered his reply, "No, by no means, the king's dragon is a far more volatile, dangerous and rampant creature than any that inhabits the royal zoos."

"It's over fifty meters tall, it has four legs and its wings detach from its shoulders, and it doesn't breathe fire, but a huge purple lightning bolt that evaporates and disappears everything in its path," the man, who had been confident before, let out a small grimace and a frightened face as if he was remembering. "We only take care of clearing his resting place only when he is flying, otherwise there is no armor or force to protect you against him if you disturb him, being only the king who can control him."

"And do you know when he will arrive?" my father asked as if expecting a gift, with a twinkle in his eye, not caring to show himself weak before these foreign men, quite a disgrace.

"Just as we arrived at the resting ships, a parrot was sent to Xandar to inform the king of our arrival, quite possibly it has already departed the city and is flying as we speak."