Game of Thrones: The King of Bronze and Fire

A lifetime of petty grudges.

Now that he had caught the little thief, Grey Ghost was about to get a proper lesson.

"Screech..."

The young dragon whined pitifully, its sapphire-blue eyes staring at the silver-haired human in confusion.

It couldn't understand why it was being captured—it was only foraging for food, after all.

"Don't pretend to be weak, you thief!"

Aemon's sharp gaze bore down on the dragon as he scolded it in High Valyrian.

Grey Ghost let out another soft cry before giving up completely.

The dragon sprawled out on the sandy ground, making no attempt to resist as Aemon held its slender neck.

It could sense a faint, familiar bond in the boy's blood—an instinctive connection.

Besides, this wasn't the first time they'd met.

Realizing it wouldn't be harmed, Grey Ghost chose to surrender without a fight.

After all, life on Dragonstone wasn't great either.

There, a hideous mud-covered dragon often drove it away from potential hunting spots.

And sometimes, Grey Ghost would catch whiffs of a terrifying, foul stench lingering around the shores—a smell that made its scales bristle with unease.

When the dragon stopped struggling, Aemon was taken aback.

"So spineless?"

Grey Ghost gave a weak screech before stretching its neck toward the pile of fish, clearly still hungry.

Aemon frowned but relaxed his grip.

Once free, the young dragon didn't flee. Instead, it sluggishly rose to its feet and resumed eating.

It gulped down an entire fish in a few bites, making it clear how starved it had been.

"Not very satisfying," Aemon muttered, rolling his eyes before plopping down on the sand.

What was the point of catching a dragon if it didn't even put up a fight?

He had expected some resistance.

Instead, Grey Ghost glanced at him briefly before focusing on the fish, devouring them at lightning speed.

The boy sat quietly, watching the dragon feast.

He was about to remind it to return to Dragonstone when a thought struck him.

The island wasn't exactly a safe haven. With limited territory and three wild dragons competing for space, Grey Ghost had likely followed him to the Vale out of desperation.

"Why don't you stay with me?"

The idea popped into Aemon's head, and he nudged the dragon gently after it finished its meal.

Grey Ghost flapped its wings lazily, taking a few steps away without showing much interest.

Aemon wasn't about to let this opportunity slip.

He strode back to the rocky shore, retrieved his golden-nosed mouse, and pulled out the Bloodfruit he had redeemed the night before.

"Screech!!"

The moment Grey Ghost caught a whiff of the fruit, its eyes lit up.

It scrambled toward Aemon, wings spread wide in excitement, desperate not to lose the scent.

Aemon held out the fruit, offering it to the dragon.

"Stay in the Vale, and this will be your reward."

It was, in essence, a bribe.

"Gulp!"

Without hesitation, Grey Ghost swallowed the crimson fruit whole, oblivious to the concept of bargains or deals.

But as the fruit took effect, a warm sensation spread through its body, easing the gnawing hunger that had plagued it for so long.

"Screech!"

The dragon's sapphire eyes sparkled with newfound vitality.

It nuzzled Aemon's chest affectionately, rubbing its head against him as if asking for more.

"Well, aren't you clever?"

Aemon chuckled, scratching under Grey Ghost's chin.

The dragon let out a low, contented rumble, practically melting under the boy's touch.

One of the ancient dragon-taming techniques Aemon had mastered was how to bond with dragons emotionally—not just command them.

This wasn't just about subduing a creature; it was about forming a mutual understanding.

The dragon's soft scales trembled with pleasure, and Aemon found himself laughing.

"Looks like I've won you over, thief."

Of course, he felt a twinge of guilt for giving away such a rare fruit.

But to tame a wild dragon? It was worth it.

Besides, he knew the Bloodfruit could show up again in his card deck.

Many items he had previously redeemed—like armor, weapons, and even stat boosts—had appeared more than once.

If fate allowed, he could always get another for Vermithor, his primary dragon.

"Sorry, old friend," Aemon whispered with mock regret.

But he couldn't hide his grin.

The laws of Valyria permitted a dragonrider to bond with one dragon at a time.

However, history had proven it was possible to command more than one dragon if a rider was skilled and daring enough—just like Queen Daenerys Targaryen, who led three dragons into battle during her time.

True, the additional dragons might not be as obedient, but their combined strength made up for the lack of precision.

"Screech..."

Grey Ghost rested its head on Aemon's lap, gazing up at him with wide, trusting eyes.

For the first time, Aemon felt a faint connection spark between them—a bond, as fragile as a thread, but undeniably present.

At that very moment—

Far away, outside Runestone, a bronze dragon lay curled on the hillside.

Vermithor's massive head rested on the grass, his deep breaths stirring the earth beneath him.

Suddenly, the dragon's eyes snapped open.

His golden pupils glowed with fiery intensity as a low growl rumbled in his chest.

"Screech—"

The roar echoed through the Vale, shaking the ground.

Then, with a mighty beat of his wings, Vermithor took to the sky, unleashing a torrent of molten flames that streaked across the heavens like a volcanic eruption.

Back on the beach, Aemon frowned as he felt a flicker of unease.

Grey Ghost stiffened, shrinking back in fear.

For a brief moment, the silver-haired boy's reflection vanished from the dragon's eyes, replaced by the looming image of a bronze giant.

A mountain of scales and fire—a dragon seething with barely contained rage.

"Vermithor?"

Grey Ghost whimpered, recoiling from the terrifying vision.

Aemon couldn't help but laugh.

"You were thinking of bonding with me, weren't you?" he teased.

"Too bad—someone else got there first."

Even so, he wasn't disappointed.

He knew that having a second dragon as backup could be invaluable.

He glanced at his status panel, which displayed a new notification:

"Special magical creature discovered. Earned 100 essence points."

Satisfied, he opened the panel to check his progress.

Aemon Targaryen

Talent: Dreamer (Gold)

Bloodline: Valyrian Dragonlord (36.5%)

Skills: Binding Spell "Remnant" (Mastery), Archery (Deadeye), Pickpocketing (Proficient)...

Magic Cards: Sturdy Constitution (Blue), Iron Will (Purple), Regal Aura (Purple)

Equipment: Twin Valyrian Steel Daggers, Sapphire Amulet (2/3)

Pets: Golden-Nosed Mouse (Blue), White Stag (Sacred Beast)

"Only a 2.5% increase in bloodline purity?"

Aemon was puzzled, then quickly realized why.

Grey Ghost was still a juvenile dragon.

Compared to touching a fully grown dragon like Syrax, bonding with an adolescent didn't have the same impact.

"Looks like young dragons aren't as valuable."

Still, he smiled to himself.

"Guess I won't bother with the other hatchlings on Dragonstone. Let's give this one some time to grow."

Grey Ghost shuffled closer again, hesitant but curious.

"You're still sticking around?"

Aemon reached out and scratched behind its ears.

"Smart little thief."

Grey Ghost leaned into the touch, closing its eyes in bliss.

Aemon had successfully stolen away the fish thief—and gained a new companion in the process.