Chapter 58: The Iron Isnds

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  A frigid breeze my skin while I waited in the castle's training yard. Frost coated the earth, making soft popping sounds under my feet as I settled my mind for leaving. My beloved moued close by, her metallic-gold hide shimmering uhe weak dawn light, wisps of vapor curling from her snout as she exhaled.

  I noticed my magnifit Dragon still inspired awe and fear, her form catg the nervous eyes of guardsmen and peasants who'd assembled to watch us take our leave.

  Yara stood bound beside me, her posture straight despite the ropes that secured her wrists. Despite that, she looked somewhat dazed, perhaps more worried about the iniing than what she wao show.

  [Image Here]

  Spoiler

  [colpse]She's much prettier than her show terpart. No, a whole different person. I noted, and perhaps because I was staring too hard, her daze ended and she caught me watg her. She quirked an eyebrow, that growing familiar smile appearing on her lips.

  "Your dragon seems impatient," she observed, nodding toward Viserion who shifted restlessly, talons sg the frozeh.

  “She's not. She's just ahat I'm going to carry another non-Targaryen above her,” I said, and she hummed.

  The ch of boots on ground heralded the arrival of Winterfell’s impromptu Lord, makiurn my head toward them. Hodor lumbered forward with Bran Stark in his arms, followed by his little brother and the elderly Maester Luwin, whose metal links tinkled with each step.

  "Yrace," the crippled boy said with a voice that was graver beyond his years. "We wished to extend ratitude before your journey. Our home might still be lost to the squids if not for your intervention."

  I gave a slight nod. "Having custody of this captive is thanks enough. She'll prove useful iiations with her father. Robb is a fine King, and as his younger brother, you show wisdom beyond ye. This alliand friendship pleases me. As your Northern saying goes, the North remembers. I trust our friendship will endure when it matters most."

  "We will," Bran assured me, theated. "But about the Bolton forces..."

  "They'll arrive within days," I firmed. "Robb sent them before me. Even if they’re on foot, they should arrive soon. They'll help hold Winterfell from any future i,” I g the castle walls, where workers still repaired damage from the Ironborn occupation. "You'll hem."

  Maester Luwin stepped forward, his weathered face creased with . "Yrace, if I may speak freely?"

  I was curious what a maester wao tell me. I was aware of the many theories surrounding them, about how they killed the st dragons, and about how they phe death of magic like a grand scheme.

  At my nod, he tinued, "Alliances ieros are fragile things, built on shifting sands. I… we all know what unfolded between you two st night, and I'm not here to front you for it. However, the Greyjoys..." his eyes flicked to Yara, "have proven particurly... unreliable allies in the past. No matter what you're pnning to do with them be careful before turning them.”

  "Careful, old man," Yara drawled, but I raised a hand, sileng her.

  "Your is noted, Maester Luwin. But times ge, and so do allegiances." I met his gaze steadily. "The world is reshaping itself. Those t will survive. And Yara has adapted.”

  The maester bowed slightly, though doubt still lingered in his eyes. "As you say, Yrace."

  Ri, who had been fidgeting quietly, suddenly burst out, "Will y your dragon back? I touch it ime?"

  "Ri!" Bran hissed, but I ughed.

  "Perhaps, young lord. Though Viserion isn't particurly fond of strangers."

  We chatted for a bit more until movement caught my eye. Sansa approached quietly, her auburn hair bright against the grey m. She stopped at a respectful distance, her face carefully posed.

  "...Yrace," she said softly. I found myself smiling hearing her address me by my title. Was she finally going to act cold? "I wish you safe travels."

  The tension from our earlier versation huween us. I aowledged her with a slight nod. "Thank you, Lady Sansa. Keep Winterfell strong in your brother's absenow, it's time we leave. Yara,” I said, and turoward Viserion, who lowered her head with an irritated snort.

  Her patience was wearing thin. I mounted smoothly, then looked down at Yara who'd followed me.

  She raised her bound hands. "How exactly am I supposed to climb up there?"

  "My bad," I shrugged, dismounting. I held her by the waist, and in one fluid motion, I lifted her, enjoying her soft hum, and pced her securely in front of me. She shot a smug look at Sansa, whose jaw tightened visibly.

  "Hold tight," I anded, gripping Viserion's scales. The dragon spread her wings, casting a massive shadow across the courtyard.

  With a powerful thrust, we unched into the air, leaving Winterfell and its plicated politics behind.

  ****

  The world looked different from a dragon's back.

  Viserion's wings cut through clouds as we soared over the North's vast expahe ndscape stretched endlessly below us – forests, hills, and frozen rivers woven together like some giant's threadbare tapestry. The air was thin and bitter cold at this height, but I barely noticed it anymore.

  Yara sat rigid in front of me, her bound hands gripping Viserion's scales. Every so often, her shoulders would tense whe a pocket of turbulent air. I could almost feel the flict radiating from her – the mixture of awe at flying on a dragon ament at her position.

  "Quite the view, isn't it?" I said close to her ear, watg her suppress a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

  She turned her head slightly. "Different from a ship's deck, I'll give you that." Her voice carried a hint ing admiration. "Though I prefer having my feet on solid wood."

  "I uand where you're ing from. I got used to it already, though. Dragon riding is just sed nature to a Targaryen,” I said, her rea as she shrugged.

  "I guess it's a good thing that I won't be riding dragons often," she said.

  "Won't you? As my Iron Queen, you'll need swift transport between the isnds and mainnd often."

  She fell quiet. For once, she didn't flirt back. She spoke in a serious tone, "What exactly do you pn to do once you take the throne? Assuming you ma."

  I ughed, the sound carrying away on the wind. "If I couldn't take over a kingdom with a dragon this fine," I tinued with a smirk, "You should be ashamed of moaning for me st night."

  "Cheeky," she said, and I tightened my grip on her waist, making her breath catch. "So what's your answer?”

  “My pns are simple enough. Uhe realm urong leadership, and make it relish. The greatest Empire uhe sky. Not just by mere words, but rather making my subjects happier. Fixing the society we live in. Make the lifestyle better for people… No more petty lords pying at kingship, among other things.” I spoke a bit more than I pnned, but she didn't seem to dislike it.

  "And the Iron Isnds? Will you let us keep our ways?"

  "You've asked that before.”

  “And how much of your answer did you mean?”

  I stayed silent for a moment and then said, “As long as you raid any other tihan mihe Free Cities have plenty of wealth to plunder. And holy, I might give you missions to attack them myself. You'll go on quests under my and, and enjoy yourself while doing so.”

  Silence passed between us, and her posture rexed a little. We stayed like that for a while until she asked, “Remove my restraints already? It's unfortable.”

  “Nah, won't look harsh enough to your people.”

  “Aren't we hours away from the Iron Isnds still?” She asked.

  “Nope, I think we're pretty close-” my voice was cut off by thunder rumbling in the distance. We both stared at dark clouds looming ahead.

  Viserion growled, sensing the approag storm. The air grew heavy with moisture, and wind began to buffet us from all sides.

  "We should nd!" Yara shouted over the growing gale.

  "No time," I called back. "It's too close to us, and it's ing right this way. Viserion, try to fly around it!"

  Lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Viserion banked hard to avoid a particurly violent gust, and suddenly Yara's grip slipped. Her eyes went wide as she tumbled sideways off the dragon's back.

  “DAMMIT!”

  "Yara!" I shouted, watg her plummet through the storm-dark air. There was no time to think; I called forth my Dragon Wings. Leather-like wings burst from my back, tearing through my clothes as I jumped from Viserion's bad dove after her.

  The wind howled around me as I streamlined my body, gaining speed. Raied my face like tiny needles, but I kept my eyes locked on Yara's plummeting form. Her scream cut through the storm as I reached for her, my arms stretg through the tempest until finally catg her in my arms.

  Her eyes were huge as she stared at my wings, her chest heaving with panicked breaths. “What the hell?!” She managed despite the situation while the golden sheen of my wings gleamed in the darkness.

  Above us, Viserion circled anxiously, her massive form barely visible through the sheets of rain. I could feel the dragon magic c through my veins, my partial transformation grantirength beyond mortal limits as I held Yara secure against the battering winds. My wings, though smaller than Viserion's, cut through the air with surprising efficy, the beats fighting against the storm's fury.

  “Foo…lish…humans…!” Viserion roared louder thahunder above us as she swooped down, her massive form a golden bea against the storm-bck clouds. I angled us toward her back, calg the trajectory through the brutal crosswinds before nding hard but secure on her rain-slicked scales.

  Yara g to me, her face pressed against my chest, her whole body trembling. I could feel her rag heartbeat even through the howling chaos of the storm, her fingers digging into what remained of my shredded shirt.

  When she finally looked up at me, her expression had ged. The usual defiance wasn't there anymore, but there was something new. No versation unfolded between us after that.

  The storm began to clear as roached the edge of the mainnds. Dark tower peaks emerged from the mist, dark and forbidding against the grey sky. Yara's body tensed against mine, for sure reised her home better than mine. “Pyke.”

  Through sheets of misting rain, the Pyke revealed itself – a sight both magnifit and grotesque.

  The castle stood like a challeo nature itself, sprawled across a series of small, rocky isnds ected by swaying rope bridges and stone archways. The isnds rose from the ing sea like the brokeh of some a beast, eae ed with towers of bck stone.

  Viserion circled high above, giving me a perfect view of the castle's impossible architecture. The Great Keep sat on the rgest isnd, its walls weathered by turies of salt spray and storm. Beyond it, towers reached skyward on increasingly precarious outcrops, eae seeming more likely to topple into the angry seas below tha.

  "Your home is quite something," I said to Yara, who sat tense in front of me. The castle before us made Winterfell look positively weling in parison.

  The surrounding Iron Isnds dotted the horizon like dark smudges against the grey sea. Great Wyk, the rgest, loomed to the south, while Harw's more hospitable shores stretched to the east. I'd read and heard tales about them as Viserys, shem. Orkmont's peaks pierced the cloud cover to the north, and Old Wyk's sacred shores y hidden in the m mist.

  Waves crashed against the rocky cliffs hundreds of feet below, sending spray high into the air. The whole se was full of wild, untamed energy that seemed to embody the Ironborn spirit itself.

  No wohese people were so fierce, for they lived in a pce that tried to kill them daily.

  "The Greyjoy words make more sense now, I guess," I said, taking in the harsh ndscape. "What is dead may never die... in a pce like this, death must feel like an old friend."

  Yara's only response was a slight nod as we began our dest toward the Great Keep. The banners of House Greyjoy, the golden kraken on bck, whipped frantically in the wind, as if heralding our arrival to the Iron Isnds' a seat of power.

  Yara spoke quietly, “Brace yourself, Yrace. ving my father is going to be troublesome. But trust me, I'm going to try my best. I don't want him to make an enemy out of some weird draic human.”

  “Calling me weird is rude,” I retracted my wings and pulled her closer. “Don't worry about your father, even if he acts stubborn, I'll take care of him. You just focus on your future role as the Iron Queen."

  Yara welt silent again as we desded toward the castle that would soon witness a csh between the old and the new.

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