[24] Why’s My Dragon So Small?

Chapter 24: Why’s My Dragon So Small?

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I wasn’t worried about Kinvara and Cersei's meeting at all, and as expected, she came out unharmed. The Queen was simply double-checking if Kinvara wasn’t helping Stannis. By the end of their talk, she determined ‘Nyra’ was unrelated to Westeros's numb, useless politics.

I was glad they didn’t find her suspicious and hang her, but then again, I doubted they could, even if they wanted to. The woman was not the Mountain, but her powers surely surpassed them all for her to be walking this earth for however long she was.

A few days passed since that incident, and I hadn’t received any other chance of entering the Red Keep. I was not skilled enough to infiltrate it, plus I had no reason to take such a risk. Instead, I decided to focus on my dragon for a bit rather than the politics.

The mansion’s atmosphere was tight. All the windows were drawn shut, the doors locked and sealed. If this had been the dead of night, maybe someone with ears sharp enough would hear it—the sickening crunch of bones, the wet, visceral tearing of flesh.

It would have sounded monstrous.

Which... wasn’t far from the truth.

A dragon was feasting, its teeth ripping through the bloody carcass of a freshly slaughtered sheep.

Viserion’s serpentine neck curled and uncurled as she gnawed at her meal, her scales glistening faintly even in the dim room. Her claws dug into the meat as if she were guarding it. It was hard to read a dragon’s expression, but with her eyes narrowed, half-lidded, that could only be satisfaction.

I stood beside her, my hand resting on the curve of her neck. I felt her muscles shifting beneath my palm, the deep vibrations of her growl as she ate.

I enjoyed that. This was my dragon; the more she ate, the stronger she would be. The stronger I would be. I wasn’t the only one watching Viserion feast. I glanced over at the Sand Snakes. Unlike me, they were watching from a distance, standing just outside the circle of shadow thrown by the dim lanterns.

Nymeria’s eyes were wide, a flicker of reverence etched into her features. Tyene stood beside her, a hand pressed over her mouth, suppressing a fascinated and unnerving smile. Obara was the furthest back, her stance more guarded, but there was no denying the awe. This creature was a legend made flesh, and it was growing bigger and fiercer each time they bore witness to her feeding. The wonder never quite dimmed.

Kinvara was busy doing some priestess bullshit in the city, so it was just us here.

Viserion was getting larger. It was growing evident with each passing week. Soon, it would be impossible to keep this girl confined in this old, small mansion's shadows. We got it for free, after all, so it was barely livable. The room was too small. She was too big.

And more than that, she needed to grow under the open sky, under the sun and the moon, in the wild, where she could hunt and soar without restraint. This was no place for a dragon.

“You’ve seen her eat a dozen times now,” I said to the girls, my voice breaking the silence. It startled them, and Nymeria blinked, tearing her eyes away from the dragon. “I’d think by now you’d be used to it.”

Nymeria gave a sheepish grin, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s still... something,” she replied, shrugging. “Listen, you won't understand since you own her.”

“Oh, yeah,” I shrugged.

Tyene nodded quickly, her eyes flicking back to Viserion, who continued her feast without a care. “She’s getting so big,” she whispered. “Soon, she won’t fit here. Any plans for when that happens?”

“Yes. I was thinking the same, actually,” I said, my tone thoughtful, my gaze moving to the dragon’s form. “But in truth, she's growing very slowly for my taste. I'm worried.”

“Really?” The girls raised their eyebrows.

It’d been a bit more than three months since she hatched, but she was only the size of a horse. I couldn’t be sure if her growth speed was greater than my sister’s dragons, but I didn’t feel she was that larger. What was the Dragon System doing? Well, it certainly did affect her. She was a bit different from the dragons of this world; she had four limbs and two wings, unlike those of this world, which were basically wyverns. I presumed just that difference made her stronger than the other dragons of her age, but I still wanted her to grow bigger.

I was hoping she’d shadow over King’s Landing in a year. But at this rate…

I sighed. I knew from the beginning that if Viserion stayed cooped up in this mansion, her growth would be stunted. Was that the only reason for her slower growth? Dragons weren’t meant to be fed in cages.

They were meant to hunt, to kill, to feel the thrill of the chase. I remembered Tyrion’s words when he was quoting the Maesters—how he thought Dany’s dragons in Meereen didn’t grow because they were kept confined. A dragon’s true nature could only be realized in freedom.

I looked back at the Sand Snakes, and a moment later, an idea found me. “I think I’ll be taking her out,” I said, my tone casual. “Been a while since she flew around.”

The girls glanced at each other, then back at me. Obara was the first to speak, her voice gruff. “Out? Out where?”

“The Kingswood,” I said simply. She needs to hunt real prey—something more challenging than a dead sheep. Plus, I also need to hunt.” I had to level up and get Spearmanship to a higher grade.

My skin was slightly tougher than normal, but I was not invincible. An arrow could still pierce me where Ellaria’s thrown knife hadn’t. I couldn't let myself be delusional about my powers. Not yet.

Tyene opened her mouth, her expression one of immediate objection, but I held up a hand. “No,” I said firmly. “I know what you’re thinking. But none of you is coming.”

Nymeria frowned, stepping forward, her eyes narrowing. “Why not?” she demanded. “I wanna see—”

“If someone sees me, I can hide,” I interrupted, my gaze steady. “If someone sees Viserion, I can make her disappear.”

“Yes, so what’s the issue?”

“The more people involved, the harder it becomes to cover our tracks,” I said, looking at each of them in turn. “Plus, no point in risking you all unnecessarily.”

There was a beat of silence, the Sand Snakes glancing between each other. Obara’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t argue. Tyene sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly, her disappointment evident, but she nodded.

Nymeria, however, still looked unconvinced. “You’re sure?” she asked, her voice quiet, her eyes searching mine.

I smiled faintly, my hand brushing against Viserion’s scales. “I’m sure. I can handle this. Besides,” I added, my tone turning lighter, “it’s not as if I’ll be alone.” I glanced at the dragon, her jaws closing around the last of her meal, her golden eyes blinking lazily at them. “I’ve got her, haven’t I?”

I had a nuke to protect me.

Nymeria’s gaze softened, and she sighed, giving a small nod. “Fine. But you be careful,” she said, her tone carrying a hint of warning. “And come back fast. Don’t make us have to come looking for you.”

I chuckled, pushing myself away from the wall, my hand resting against Viserion’s side. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, giving them a nod before turning my attention back to the dragon. I ran a hand down her gold scales. “Alright, girl. Let’s get you out of here.”

****

I met Kinvara in the city and let her know about my decision. She had no objection. But we were too busy to chat in-depth, as she was preoccupied with talking with the poor. Queen Cersei wished her good luck at the end of their talk, saying that since she wasn’t friends with Stannis, she wanted Priestess ‘Nyra’ to spend her time helping the poor.

It was more of a test to see her be busy doing work rather than spying around or something. So for now, she’d have to focus on this. By the time of Renly’s death, I expected her to regain her freedom.

Then, I dropped by Littlefinger's Brothel.

The brothel was buzzing with daytime energy. It was noisy and lively, with girls lounging around, laughing, and sharing idle gossip.

Heavy perfumes mingled with the smell of aged wood and alcohol. It was a different kind of atmosphere from the evenings, less desperate and more relaxed. As I entered, the laughter and chatter of the brothel whores softened, and eyes turned to me, some curious, some amused.

A young girl, the same blonde who’d questioned my wealth before, caught my eye, her lips curving into a teasing smile. She put her hands on her hips, her voice lilting with amusement as she spoke. “My, it’s Ros’ prince charming. Should I call her for you?”

I laughed, a genuine chuckle escaping my lips. “Yes, please, I have something to tell her,” I replied, watching as she scurried off to fetch her.

It didn’t take long. Soon enough, Ros stepped out into the main room, her eyes finding me easily, her lips curving into a smug smile as she crossed her arms. Her auburn hair framed her face, her presence commanding without even trying.

“I thought you agreed not to visit me anytime soon?” she called out, her tone playful, yet her eyes betrayed a glimmer of warmth. “So impatient, are we?”

She was cute, I had to admit that. “Not impatient,” I said, moving closer until we were just a few steps apart. “I’m heading out of King’s Landing for some work, so I thought I’d drop by. Just in case you worried when I didn’t show up.”

Her smile faded just slightly, her brows knitting as she uncrossed her arms. “Ah,” she blinked. “Going out? What for?”

“Just some work,” I said casually, dismissing the worry in her eyes.

Ros frowned, her lips pressing together for a moment, her eyes searching mine. “Is it a sellsword mission?” she asked quietly, a hint of concern breaking through her usual mask. “Will you… will you be alright?”

I couldn’t help the amused scoff that left me. “I’ll be fine, girl,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. “You’ve no idea how strong I am.”

“Robert Baratheon was strong,” came a voice from behind that made the room go still. The laughter faded, and every girl nearby straightened, eyes shifting towards the source.

Lord Petyr Baelish stepped into view, his expression one of practiced ease, a smile playing at his lips—a smile that never quite reached his eyes. “And yet, he died to a boar,” he continued, his tone light, casual. “So, it never hurts to be careful, my friend.”

“Lord Baelish,” Ros said quickly, bowing her head. Her tone was respectful, though I could see the tension in her shoulders. I simply returned his gaze with a small smile, my head tilting slightly in acknowledgment.

Baelish’s eyes flicked over me, his smile widening just a touch. “I am happy. A member of the Second Sons,” he said, his voice almost admiring. “How fortunate that you took a liking to one of my girls.” He glanced at Ros. “I do hope you treat her well. I haven’t seen her so elated since she joined us. She’s also quite productive lately. A remarkable change.”

I kept my smile, nodding. “I’m glad to hear that,” I said, my voice pleasant. “I hadn’t expected to come across such a fine girl, either. Your establishment certainly lives up to its reputation, my lord.”

He laughed. It was a soft, smooth sound that somehow felt sharp, like the edge of a blade. “Indeed,” he said, his eyes still on me. “Please give my regards to the Red Priestess, Mister… Vis,” he said. “And do be careful, wherever you’re headed. I’d hate for Ros to be saddened by any unfortunate news of your demise.”

With that, he gave a slight bow, then turned, his footsteps fading as he moved away, leaving the room quieter than before. I scoffed under my breath.

I watched his back, my smile fading into something more thoughtful. Ros stood beside me, her expression guarded. Her eyes followed Baelish until he disappeared from view.

“Your superior’s something,” I muttered very low so that only she could hear, turning back to her. “Instead of sounding genuinely worried, it was almost as if he’d prefer me dead. What a man.”

Ros opened her mouth and hesitated as her lips pressed into a tight smile. Then she nodded, whispering, “Yeah… I didn’t like how he worded it either. Why did he have to mention Robert Baratheon like that? Ugh…” She scowled, shaking her head. I held back a smile. Good, she trusted me enough to reveal her true opinion about the man. “But yes, do be careful. When can I expect to see you again?”

“A week, I’d say,” I replied, my tone light, teasing. “If I’m late, then assume I’m dead for real.”

She scowled again, glaring at me, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t joke about that,” she snapped, but her voice had no real anger—just worry. Poor girl was in love.

I was starting to feel a little bad now for playing with her feelings. But promise, if she agreed to work for me after I’d reveal my true allegiance, she’d be happier than the happiest whore in the world. She’d become a big shot in this world.

I laughed, reaching out to brush her hair back from her face. “Sorry,” I said softly. “I’m really tougher than I look. I’ll prove it to you one day. On the night of our dinner date?” I added, winking at her.

She giggled, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “I’ll be waiting,” she said, her voice softening, her eyes meeting mine.

There was a flicker of something in her gaze—something that made her hesitate before she leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine in a brief, tender kiss.

The girls around us gasped dramatically as I returned it, my hand resting on her waist for a moment before I pulled back, giving her one last smile before I turned away, making my way out of the brothel.

It'd been weeks since she stopped seeing customers, so I didn't hate kissing her. Ah, poor girl, I thought, feeling the sweetness of her lips. If only she knew that she was being used.

But hey, she couldn't hate me for it. I was saving her from the inevitable death she’d face to Joffrey. Just… she’d have to become my information broker. I hoped she’d not make a foolish choice when the time came.

Ros followed me to the door, watching as I mounted my horse. Her eyes never left me as I rode away. The city stretched out before me, and soon, I found myself in Kingswood.

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