GOT : All Left Behind

"How do you expect to be the father of the realm if you are not a father to your own children?"

When somebody described the Dragonpit as merely a stable for dragons, I seriously wondered what kind of stable they had grown up with. The Red Keep could comfortably house more than a thousand horses, as was befitting of the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. Save for Harrenhal, there was not a castle in Westeros that could compare in the sheer number of knights that could keep their steeds there. Even Winterfell, though bigger than the Red Keep, had smaller stables.

So to call the Dragonpit a mere stable was like calling King's Landing a fishing village.

For starters, the colossal stone construction was as large as the Red Keep. And the Red Keep was itself one of the largest castles in Westeros.

The Dragonpit sat proudly atop the Hill of Rhaenys, dark walls festooned with draconic imagery rising far above my head. A ring of windows, widely spaced, flowed into the pattern as smoothly as compliments out of a particularly sycophantic courtier. But those artful walls were merely a prelude to what was perhaps one of the greatest feats of engineering in the Seven Kingdoms: the dome.

Compared to the dome, the walls were a mere ribbon of beautifully decorated stone that served to keep the dome safe from the ground. It was as smooth as it was possible for stone to be without the sorcery of the Valyrians, each stone flowing smoothly and cunningly into the next to form a smooth curve that reached far above the ground.

Within, past the bronze gate so great even the Cannibal could have crawled through without fear of touching the sides even with his whip-like tail, was a beautifully lit pit of sand. A pit of sand I knew from personal experience to be hot enough to qualify as a steam room. A pit of sand I had not visited in many years, and for good reason.

I could not risk being marked by the scent of a beast as great as Balerion if I did not wish for the Cannibal to be reduced to a mewling hatchling. Even the scent of Vhagar was enough to unnerve the black dragon, but he was getting better. Slowly.

Very slowly.

A screech from above drew me out of my thoughts. The aging horse beside me, the same horse I had ridden for nearly a decade, shifted slightly at the sound, but otherwise gave no indication of having heard anything. He was used to dragons and their particular brand of madness. Looking up, I was blinded by the sun high in the sky and unable to see anything until a horse-sized lizard landed on the ground with far more noise than necessary.

"Papa!" a childish voice called out. Blinking the spots from my eyes, I just barely saw the small figure fumble with the chains binding him to the dragon's neck before hopping off. The figure launched itself at me, but I was prepared with outstretched arms and a broad smile. "I did it! I flew! Did you see me?"

"That I did!" I said, hefting my son onto my shoulder. Little Aerion Targaryen giggled as he was handled as though he weighed nothing at all instead of a boy of four name days, while a dark grey lizard crawled towards me. "I'm so proud of you!"

Reaching up, I gave my boy a congratulatory tousle of the hair, prepared to say more, but the sound of tearing leather drew my attention. Looking over, I saw the dragon my boy had flown over, though most of his saddle now rested on the cobbled street. Scraps of leather clung to a bronze claw, while the beast seemed all too proud of himself as he crawled towards me.

"No!" the child upon my shoulder cried out. "Bad Smoke! Bad!"

The dragon in question stopped in his tracks, craning his head to look my son in the eye in confusion. He was a strikingly colored creature, dark as slate with wing membranes the color of old blood. None would ever mistake this one for Balerion, however. The gray was far too light to be mistaken for black, the red too dark. And as his tongue flicked out to slap across its left eye, head tilted at a confused angle, I was reminded of the other, bigger reason:

He was a bit of an idiot.

A point that was reinforced when the rest of the saddle slid from his neck, startling him with the sound of leather on cobbled brick. The beast whirled around, head whipping back and forth, searching for the culprit, but finding nothing. He looked back, red eyes wide, as if to ask if we had tricked him.

"Relax," I said, reaching out. Immediately, the dragon buried its head in my palm. He gave a happy chuff, accepting the scratches beneath his chin. Foolish though he was, none could call him poorly behaved. "Now, where might your sister be?"

A screech from above answered the question. The dragon withdrew his head immediately, eyes searching the sky. This one landed a heartbeat later, the beast with yellow scales landing with far more grace than the one with grey. Preening at the attention, the dragon held its position before bowing low to allow its rider to dismount.

"You're late!" Aerion complained from my shoulder. "Sundancer needs to get faster."

"Sundancer simply understands the meaning of grace," my daughter said, sliding from her dragon's neck. Telling Aerion from Aerea might have once been difficult, each sharing the silver-gold hair framing a sharp face, but they were already developing into two very different individuals. "She is a true lady, after all."

Naturally, that was the moment her dragon, the creature the color of the sky the moment the sun touches the horizon, launched herself at her grey counterpart. The pair began rolling along the paved ground, locking teeth and claws in a very enthusiastic playfight.

My little girl pouted at the sight but was well-mannered enough to not complain out loud. Luckily, I knew just how to make her feel better. Picking her up with a single hand, she was swiftly deposited on my empty shoulder. She complained, but her words lacked any heat, and she eagerly leaned into the head rub I dispensed.

"Enough competing!" I declared, cutting off any bickering before it could actually start. "You both flew! I'm so proud of you both! Did you have fun?"

"Yeah!" Aerion was quick to exclaim, almost bouncing with excitement.

"You should have joined us!" Aerea chimed in, her excitement far more subdued.

"I wish I could have," said, taking measures to not let my disappointment show. Taking the Cannibal flying alongside Dreamfyre was the result of years of work, and even then, I was careful not to stress him too much. Alongside two new dragons… well, my children would not be dragon riders for long. "Though my dragon is not as easygoing as yours. I'll take you to meet him later this week, and you'll see."

My children's cheers were interrupted by another massive shadow passing overhead, and the playing pair of dragons interrupted their little tussle. Scarlet Meleys landed first, gracefully alighting before the gates to the pit with a pleased look to her. Bronze Vhagar was close behind, the massive dragon somehow landing even more gently than the smaller creature.

"HA!" Alyssa shouted from her dragon's back a small child chained to her chest. "Sweet victory!"

"This time, perhaps," Baelon said, the child with whom he shared a saddle larger than even my own two.

"And every time before!"

"It's not always about being the fastest, Alyssa!" Baelon shouted, earning a bawdy laugh from his wife. I, with the two children on my shoulders, did not bother trying to cover their ears. That would have been a fruitless endeavor. Instead, I focused on the perpetrators.

"Careful," I interrupted my siblings before their talk could elicit some uncomfortable questions from the twins. "There are children present."

"Bah, fatherhood took all the fun out of you!" Alyssa complained, undoing her chains as another massive shadow fell over us. I did not have to look up to know who it was. The massive blue shape of Dreamfyre slowly descended to land gently amongst the gathered dragons, the smallest scattering like pigeons before swarming Meleys for another round of fun.

Maegelle had arrived.

My dearest sibling undid the chains that held her in her saddle and carefully slid off, lifting her little passenger down a moment later. He was thin, had always been thin and frail, but that did little to dampen his enthusiasm as he rushed towards me.

"Vaeg!" Little Aelys greeted me with outstretched arms. I had to crouch to intercept him, only to toss him into the air a few inches before catching him again. He was deposited between by children, left to cling to my head, giggling with joy as was his right.

He might not have been my son, but my little brother deserved a father.

And I did have more than enough practice taking care of my siblings.

"And where is my share?" Maegelle asked as she joined me, only to get swept into my arms and lifted off her feet. I touched my forehead to hers, holding her close. It was her work as much as mine that we were this happy, that our younger siblings had had as happy a childhood as they did.

I did not particularly care about my other sister grumbling about the hypocrisy.

Life was good, after all.

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