บท 11: Bamboozled!
(Last bonus chapter to wrap up the first part of the story. Next will be Essos arc. Read author thoughts for timeline and stuff. Meanwhile, keep fighting for your waifu in polls.)
The Small Council chamber of the Red Keep was bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows. The air inside was heavy with tension, as it always was these days, with civil war brewing across Westeros. King Viserys Targaryen sat slumped on his throne at the head of the table, one hand rubbing his temple as though trying to massage away the ever-present headache of governance.
Around him sat the assembled members of the council: Ser Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King; Lord Lyman Beesbury, the Master of Coin; Lord Lyonel Strong, the Master of Laws; and Prince Daemon, the current heir to the throne, all engaged in their usual bickering.
The meeting was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps echoing through the halls. A messenger burst through the doors, panting and wide-eyed, as though he had just seen a ghost—or something far worse.
"Your Grace," the messenger gasped, bowing hastily. "There's… news from Dragonstone."
Viserys straightened, setting his goblet down with a soft clink. "What sort of news?"
The messenger hesitated, clearly struggling to find the right words. "It's… it's about the Cannibal, Your Grace."
The room fell silent. The mention of the Cannibal was enough to draw every eye.
"The Cannibal?" Viserys repeated, his voice cautious. "What of him? Has he been spotted near the settlements again?"
"Not exactly, Your Grace," the messenger stammered. "He… he's been tamed."
The silence that followed was deafening. For a moment, it seemed as though the entire room was frozen in time. Then, as if on cue, several members of the council burst out laughing.
"Are you drunk, boy? Did you read the letter correctly?" Ser Otto Hightower scoffed, his tone dripping with disbelief. "The Cannibal? Tamed? By whom? A fool with a death wish?"
The page nervously replied , "It is written here, my lord hand; it was indeed Cannibal."
Another period of silence followed. So profound you could have heard a mouse scuttle across the floor. Otto Hightower's wine goblet paused mid-air, his face frozen between a frown and a look of disbelief. The rest of the council exchanged uneasy glances, except for Prince Daemon, who burst into raucous laughter again that echoed off the stone walls.
"The Cannibal?!" Daemon wheezed, slapping his knee. "Surely you jest! The beast barely tolerates its own kinds existence, let alone a rider!"
"I speak the truth, Your Grace! Witnesses on Dragonstone saw it with their own eyes. The great black beast took flight with a rider on its back—white-haired, gray-eyed young boy. Not a known Targaryen, but certainly Valyrian in appearance.
He came to the dragonmont after claiming him to get a saddle for him, to which we offered him Balerions two old saddles. He also informed us that Cannibal has been renamed as 'Acnologia'."
Daemon asked incredulously, " He came back to get a saddle, and you gave him Balerion's saddle? And Acnologia is his new name?"
The page replied nervously, "Yes, my prince. We had no other choice, as no other saddle was big enough to fit him. He is as big as Balerion during his prime, maybe even a bit bigger."
The room exploded into a chaos with everyone shouting and yelling about what to do next. Viserys covered his forehead with his hand and murmured, " Just what I needed right now. As if I didn't have enough troubles already."
Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, rubbed his temples as if massaging the news into submission. "So, a no-name bastard boy wandered into Dragonstone, waltzed up to the most dangerous creature in the realm, and rode it away?" His tone was one part disbelief, two parts barely concealed disdain.
Daemon Targaryen, leaning back in his chair with his feet rudely perched on the table, let out a bark of laughter. "You have to admit, it's a damn good story." He smirked, his violet eyes gleaming with mischief. "Wish I'd thought of it first. Caraxes could have used some excitement."
"Excitement?" Otto hissed, snapping his gaze to Daemon. "This isn't some petty game, Daemon! The Cannibal could obliterate fleets, scorch cities..."
"And yet," Daemon interrupted, his tone sickeningly sweet, "this boy managed to tame him without so much as a scratch. Doesn't that just make the rest of us Targaryens look a little…" He waggled his hand mockingly. "Underwhelming?"
"Daemon," Viserys muttered, his tone halfway between a plea and a warning. The King rubbed his brow, his patience evaporating with each word. "This is no laughing matter. If the Cannibal, or rather Acnologia, has a rider, we must determine who he really is and what he intends to do first."
Lyonel Strong, the ever-reasonable Master of Laws, coughed politely. "Might I suggest we gather intelligence before panicking? If the boy is as inexperienced as the reports suggest, maybe ue just got lucky. it's unlikely he poses an immediate threat."
"But what if he does?" Otto countered, his voice sharp. "A dragon like the Cannibal in the hands of a rogue bastard could spell the end of peace as we know it."
"Peace?" Daemon quipped, raising an eyebrow. "What peace?"
Lyman, meanwhile, had taken out a counting machine and was furiously clicking its beads. "Do you have any idea how much it would cost to repair a city after a dragon attack? I'll need to double the taxes!"
Viserys drained his wine in one gulp and slammed the goblet onto the table. "Enough. Find the boy. Learn who he is and where he is. He needs to come meet his king after all if he plans to stay in Westeros. Until then, no more doom-mongering!" He paused and spoke," Also, find out who his parents are."He added sternly. "Let's hope he doesn't get any ideas in his head about the throne just because he tamed a dragon."
Daemon grinned, his mood unperturbed. "If I find him first, I'll ask if he's giving lessons on taming dragons."
Viserys gave an exasperated sigh and asked, "I hope it isn't one of yours , dear brother."
Daemon took a pause and replied, "I don't think so, considering his age. I didn't start fucking whores at that time."
Driftmark: High Tide Keep
The great hall of High Tide was quiet except for the distant crash of waves against the castle walls. Corlys Velaryon stood near the window, the salt breeze ruffling his silver hair. His hands were clasped behind his back, his posture as calm and unyielding as the sea.
The doors burst open with a sharp thud, and Rhaenys Targaryen strode in, her eyes alight with a mix of disbelief and barely contained laughter.
"Corlys!" she called, her voice carrying the weight of urgency, though her expression betrayed amusement. "You'll never guess what I've just heard about the Cannibal."
Corlys turned slowly, one eyebrow raised. "The Cannibal's dead?" he asked, his tone dry.
"No," Rhaenys said, throwing her hands up. "The Cannibal's been tamed."
The Sea Snake's calm demeanor wavered. He blinks once, then twice. "Ridden," he repeated. "By whom?"
"A boy," Rhaenys said, pacing now, her smile growing with every word. "A white-haired, gray-eyed young boy. No armor, no banner. Just waltzed into the dragon's lair and came out alive. And not just alive, riding the Cannibal ! Does the description remind you of someone, dear?"
Corlys widened his eyes and asked, "You don't mean it's him, do you? That's even crazier."
Rhaenys chuckled, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Of course it's him! Who else could have the audacity? A Valyrian steel sword, and now the Cannibal as his mount? Well, he renamed it to Acnologia now. He's proving himself in ways no one could have anticipated. Now I'm certain of it; he is my little brother. He was bold, just like father when he tamed Caraxes. "
Corlys shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and admiration crossing his features. "Well, half brother to be exact. The boy was bold from the start, but this? If what you say is true, he's placed himself in a position of immense power—and danger. The Cannibal or rather Acnologia isn't just a dragon. It's a nightmare given wings. To ride it means..."
"It means he's become more than just a bastard boy," Rhaenys interrupted, her tone firm. "It means he's a player in this game now, whether he intended to be or not. Westeros will take notice, and so will the court. No one can ignore a dragon like that, especially Viserys."
Corlys frowned, his mind racing. "That dragon will make him both a threat and a target. The moment word spreads, every faction will want to claim him, or kill him.
If he's not careful, he'll find himself at the center of a war he's ill-prepared for."
Rhaenys stepped closer, her expression softening but still filled with determination. "Then we'll have to ensure he's not alone, won't we? Even if he's just my half brother, Corlys, he's family. And family protects its own."
Corlys studied her for a long moment, the crashing waves outside the only sound between them. Finally, he sighed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're serious about this."
"As serious as the sea is deep," Rhaenys replied with a smirk. "Besides, isn't this exactly the kind of legend you love? A boy, a dragon, and a rise from nothing. The stuff of songs."
Corlys chuckled, his laughter deep and resonant. "You're right about that. But songs don't come without cost, Rhaenys. If we're to stand by him, we'll need to tread carefully. His actions may bring the storm, and we'll have to weather it."
Rhaenys smiled, her confidence unshaken. "The storm's coming either way, Corlys. We might as well stand with family when it does." She smiled to herself, "Daeron Targaryen, The Rider of the Black Nightmare, Acnologia, sounds rather nice, don't you think?"
Corlys replied to her lightly," That's probably something that won't happen, knowing Viserys and Otto. They would never let him claim the Targaryen name."
Rhaenys smiled innocently,"Who knows what the future holds, dear husband?"
As for Daeron, he was blissfully unaware of the chaos his actions had stirred in King's Landing. At that moment, he was clinging to the Acnologia's back, desperately trying not to fall off as the dragon banked sharply over the sea.
"Alright, alright, you win smaug ripoff!" he shouted over the howling wind. "Just...try not to kill me before I can enjoy being feared as your rider, okay?"
Acnologia let out a low, rumbling growl that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
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Virtuosso
Virtuosso So, the current timeline is at the end of AC 102, Mc will be 10 years old soon. Mc spent seven months or so in driftmark and one month travelling incognito.
I swear, if you guy mess with me by choosing Rhaenyra, Imma make her bang Otto -_- Why does nobody like Daena ! she has atleast two big reasons to support her
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