Game of Thrones: The Bronze and Fire Lord

That night.

Driftmark Island, High Tide Castle.

"Who is that?"

Rhaenys Targaryen stood in front of the window, looking solemnly at the bronze dragon flying freely on the sea.

If I am not mistaken, it is my grandfather's dragon.

Who woke it up from its slumber.

Is it tamed?

"What does it matter?"

Corlys Velaryon hugged his wife from behind and said lightly: "The royal family is small. Can we expect our King Viserys to personally tame the dragon?"

"You don't understand, Corlys." Rhaenys said cautiously: "The dragon cannot be leaked."

She was worried that the dragon would be tamed by some despicable bastard or something else.

The blood of the Targaryen Dragon King will be pulled down from the altar.

Corlys' mind moved slightly, lowered his head to admire his wife's beauty, and a smile appeared on his serious face: "But there are dragons on Driftmark Island, and there are three of them."

This is also the capital for him to dare to challenge the majesty of the royal family.

Even the self-proclaimed orthodox Targaryen family only has two dragon riders, one big and one small.

Among them, Daemon, who is threatening, is his partner.

"Corlys, the Targaryen family still has men."

Rhaenys's face was calm.

A ray of moonlight shone down, illuminating the balcony blocked by the fence.

Rhaenys has long black hair mixed with some silver strands, a beautiful face full of heroic spirit, and high cheekbones under purple eyes revealing her inner strength.

Her mother is Miss Jocelyn from the Baratheon family. The toughness of the Deer family dyed the silver hair of the Targaryens black.

Corlys heard this and stared at his wife in a daze.

He was born in the Velaryon family, which is also of the blood of ancient Valyria. He was born with silver hair and purple eyes, with a convincing nobleness.

Because of going to sea all year round, his white skin was a little tanned, which further highlighted his masculinity.

Rhaenys glanced at him and turned back to the bedroom.

Her husband is good in every way, brave, talented, and has a fighting spirit.

All the advantages that a man should have can basically be found in him.

The only thing is that he has a strong desire for power.

Looking at his wife's swaying back, Corlys frowned slightly: "What other men are there in the royal family?"

Could they rely on a child who is still wet behind the ears?

"Haha, the Targaryens of the past were so weak."

Corlys finally looked at the dragon soaring over the sea and laughed at his own thoughts.

King Viserys is narrow-minded, causing internal and external troubles in the royal family.

His wife is one of the legitimate heirs of Targaryen, and their children should be closer to the Iron Throne.

He will not stop.

...

The sun is rising. The sky is flushed, and the red sun rises from the sea level.

At the edge of the beach.

Alec took off his black robe, pulled out the silver armor inside, and stabbed the long sword in the gravel.

He was panting and his face was very ugly.

On the opposite side, there were dozens of Stone Drum Tower guards.

Alfred's face was even worse, staring straight at the exquisite silver armor that symbolized the White Knight.

After a night of tossing, it was all in vain.

Two white knights escorted the young prince to Dragonstone, proving the king's regard for his nephew.

The rumors from the outside world were simply not credible.

"Damn it, why didn't you reveal your identity earlier."

Alfred's teeth itched with hatred, and his fingernails pierced his palms as he clenched his sword.

If he had known that there were two white knights escorting him, he should have taken a softer approach.

Alec's eyes were sarcastic, and a sneer appeared at the corner of his mouth.

He didn't know how high the other party's resume was.

He only knew one thing, that this person had two hearts towards the royal family, and he was finished.

"Hiss--"

A roar came from the sky in the distance, and a bronze dragon flew back from the seaside facing the flaming red sunrise.

"It's your highness."

Alfred's eyes lit up, and he immediately thought of an idea to whitewash himself. He dropped his sword and ran after the dragon.

He wanted to be the first to congratulate the young prince who had successfully tamed the dragon, and swear allegiance to express his loyalty.

I believe that a child will be easily fooled.

"Your Highness!"

Alfred was delighted, and he kept shouting with his arms open, like a devout believer.

As if hearing his shouts, the bronze dragon slowly descended.

Alfred's eyes were enthusiastic, but he suddenly found that the dragon was flying towards him.

"Wait, no..."

Boom -

the sound stopped abruptly, and a wide dragon claw stepped down accurately, crushing him into a pool of mud.

The head with a terrified expression was squeezed and flew out by chance.

It was completely dead.

Vormithor's pupils were indifferent, not caring at all about stepping on a small insect, shaking the dragon head and lowering his neck.

Aemon jumped off the dragon's back with a "bang" and walked in front of the giant dragon.

On the way, he saw a hideous head and kicked it into the sea like a ball.

"Asshole, you scared me to death."

Aemon patted his chest and cursed.

After passing through the Dragon Flame Waterfall, his courage soared like a rocket.

A mere dead head couldn't stop His Royal Highness's steps.

"Roar!"

Vermithor lay on the beach, and the huge dragon head lazily rested on the gravel.

Aemon was sore all over, and he knelt down gently in front of the dragon head, with his forehead against the hideous dragon's kiss.

Sniffing the copper-rust-like dragon stench, he felt at peace.

"Hello, big guy!"

Aemon whispered softly, feeling that they were a perfect match.

Vermithor didn't even move his eyelids, breathing heavily to recover his strength.

At this moment, the red sun was rising, and the entire coastline was painted a layer of fiery red.

With the towering Dragon Mountain behind him and the golden beach below him.

A man and a dragon faced each other, leaning on each other.

Inexplicably, it formed a beautiful ink painting.

Alec and a group of guards did not dare to step forward, looking at the beautiful and thrilling scene from afar, and an idea came to their minds.

Your Highness, maybe he is a real dragon!

Aemon didn't notice it, and gently rubbed his forehead against the bronze scales, feeling the hot temperature of the dragon.

He finally had a dragon of his own.

He could also touch it as he pleased.

Vermithor closed his vertical pupils and let the driver hug the dragon's mouth, still maintaining a proud attitude.

It recognized the other party.

This bold silver-haired boy is qualified to be on equal footing with it.

"Vormithor, I feel your heart."

Aemon smiled slightly and tried to communicate the first established spiritual bond.

Every time his bloodline was purified, he would have an inexplicable feeling.

For example, at the beginning, he felt that he could hatch a dragon egg.

But the black dragon egg placed in the cradle since childhood refused to hatch.

When his bloodline was increased to more than 20%, he felt that he could tame a dragon.

But the dream fire at that time rejected him the first time and did not accept the second contact.

Now, his bloodline has been increased to 33%.

He is very sure that he can communicate with Vermithor through the bond.

Even if this feeling is still weak, it is real.

Aemon was exhausted physically and mentally, and his whole body leaned on the dragon's kiss, mumbling: "I know, the dragon egg does not hatch and the dream fire refuses, both are the guidance of God, let me subdue you."

"Roar!"

Vermithor understood, and his nose sneezed violently.

The familiar feeling of weightlessness came over him, and Aemon rolled back several times, and then sat on the beach again with his legs apart.

"Well, how did I get here?"

His Royal Highness was confused.

After a night of thrills and excitement, his brain was almost shutting down.

"Roar!"

Vermithor raised his head high, his vertical pupils showed dissatisfaction, and his wings supported his majestic chest.

And the shriveled abdomen under the bronze scales.

It seemed to say: "Boy, it's time to eat."

Aemon was very upset. Did he find a boss? You are worthy of being the arrogant "Bronze Fury".

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