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Viserion's wings scatter the snow around him as he lands in the open field. Just south of Winterfell is where he and his brothers had decided to create a temporary resting area, out of view of the locals and plenty of wildlife roaming around to hunt. It's where Percy finds the three creatures that morning, having been anticipating the next time he could find the dragons alone.
His warging abilities had been rendered unobtainable over the past week. Whether it be 'cause his mind is too busy dealing with the upcoming battle preparation to focus on anything else, or because there's something - or someone - attempting to cut him off from his supernatural ability, the fact remains the same; He can't warg into anything around him, no matter how hard he tries.
And he has tried. Over the last few nights, when the castle and it's occupants finally sleep and the guards are doing their rounds, he would slip from his and Daenerys' shared bed and to the corner window that overlooks the outside. There, he would attempt to merge his mind with any animal in view, and each time he would fail harder than the last.
On occasion, he's given himself severe headaches from the strain he puts on himself. When that happens, he begrudgingly gives up and spends the rest of the night sleepless and in pain. Hoping that the migraine would go away by morning, and pretending to be okay when it doesn't. Something he fails at more often than not due to Daenerys' ability to see past any facade he puts up.
Another thing that has pressed on his mind and caused lasting waves of guilt recently. He has yet to tell her about any of the problems going on with himself. And while he may prefer it that way, not wanting to add onto her own stress, he often worries that, should she put it together on her own, she may take that as a sign of distrust or detachment.
The last thing he wants is for a rift to form between them during a time where they need each other the most.
Approaching the area, Percy's eyebrows furrow when there's no sight of the three dragons. Glancing over the large boulders surrounding the clearing, his eyes scan the treeline for any sign of them, though he knows the chances of them being among the greenery is slim to none.
Only succeeding in spotting a few foxes and deers cowering behind the brush, he's just about to turn around and leave when all the sudden the three boulders in front of him aren't boulders anymore. A shocked gasps escapes his lips, feet slipping from beneath him and back hitting the ground harshly as one by one, Viserion, Drogon and Rhaegal emerge from beneath the snow with loud screeches.
Their darker bodies contrats greatly against the light snow as they spread their wings outward. The animals that were once scattered amongst the trees retreat hastily upon sight of the much larger predators. They land forward onto the ground in sync, red and green eyes staring into his with something akin to amusement shining in them.
He huffs heavily, wincing when his back shifts uncomfortably due to his precious injuries. Glaring at the creatures with heat, he points an exasperated finger between them. He stops himself before any harsh words leave his mouth, reminding himself of why he came out in the first place and taking a calming breath while hauling himself from the ground.
Drogon huffs at him when he passes, almost mockingly and Percy gives him the finger. Rhaegal only stares, curious about why he seems so agitated. It's Viserion that lowers himself to Percy's height, emerald green eyes glinting in soft excitement.
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Hollow Crown ↬ Daenerys Targaryen
Fanfiction"I, Percival Lannister," her breath hitches in her throat, face slacking as she realises what he's doing, "hereby pledge to you, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen," an unknown emotion flares in her chest, searingly euphoric when he says her name...