Dragonsalt Chapter 8 (Patreon)

Harry Potter

He lounged on his throne, letting out a yawn as the morning light entered the grand chamber he was currently residing in.

The place was probably a spectacular sight centuries ago, lined by grand columns of fused dragonstone interlaced with gold, with overhanging tiered walkways and a large marble throne sitting at its head. But the Doom had taken its toll, as had the centuries of decay since, coating most of the place in layers of dust.

A few scourgify charms had helped in cleaning up what used to be a Dragonlord’s palace centuries ago, but couldn’t restore it to the grandeur of what it once was. Much of the statues and floor tiles were cracked or wrecked, the banners overhead having long fallen to threads.

What used to be an unknown Dragonlord’s throne room was now repurposed for Harry’s own uses, and was now filled to the brim with gold, Valyrian steel, jewels, along with several libraries worth of books he had managed to scavenge.

Things could certainly be worse. Looking around at the veritable mountain of loot he had managed to acquire from Valyria’s ruins, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if he was now the richest man in the world.

Valyrian steel was extraordinarily rare after all, and yet he now owned enough of the precious metal to equip a small army. Multiple suits of armor, over a hundred swords, and various other weapons were piled up haphazardly not too far away from his throne, with a pile just as high filled with gold and precious jewels sitting right next to it.

A beautiful woman with white horns sprouting forwards from her head approached then, wearing a frilly maid outfit of all things. “Tea, my Lord?”

Harry took the outstretched cup with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Valaena.”

“Of course.” She curtsied politely, stepping away and standing diligently at his side.

His new companion had become quite close to him in the past couple days, ever since he killed Euron Greyjoy and freed her from that cocoon she was trapped in. But more importantly, he had been the only person she could depend on to reliably help her with her new abilities. After all, animagus transformations were not normal in this world, and magical animagus transformations were especially hard to handle.

/////

Flashback

He leapt aside as a huge, scaled claw landed right where he had been standing. The stone floor below cracked and splintered from the impact, tiny particles of rock and dust coating his cloak. But Harry didn’t pay any attention to it, too busy trying to stay alive.

A jaw with teeth the size of greatswords opened and tried to bite into him, its head lashing out as fast as a serpent. But his wand was already moving, pushing the dragon away with the knockback jinx and then apparating behind it.

The beast ended up biting into empty air as he disappeared, before the dragon began looking around in confusion, not realizing yet he now stood behind it.

“Finite.”

It turned out that such a simple spell worked just as well on a magical animagus as it did on a normal animagus. That is, if one pumped the necessary magic into it.

The massive white dragon was colossal in size, likely more than a hundred meters from tail to head - much bigger than any fire-breathing beast he had seen in his previous life. It looked physically different from the dragons he had seen before too, having four wings and four limbs that functioned more like human arms and hands rather than being simple claws.

It was a powerful animagus transformation to say the least, not that he would expect anything less to come out of a powerful ritual like the one she had been trapped in.

The dragon let out a roar that shook its surroundings as his spell took effect, its body shrinking in on itself and growing smaller. After a few moments, no longer did a humongous dragon dominate the desolate courtyard he was standing in, but instead a silver-haired beauty lay curled on the floor.

He walked over to her, wand held loosely as she stirred slowly. The woman took a long moment to regain her faculties, eventually sitting up and looking over at him. “…Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He replied. “You did better that time, so there’s definitely improvement. A few more times of me acting like your chew toy, and you’ll be used to it.”

They had been doing this song and dance for the past week, ever since escaping Valyria. Or rather, it would be more accurate they were still in Valyria, living out of one of the city’s floating islands.

As a result of the ritual being ended, the city had become unstable and risen into the atmosphere as a result of the unstable magic embedded in the earth, where it then broke apart into different floating chunks that were now scattering randomly around the world.

As for the chunk of floating city they were currently on, all Harry could really tell was that they were heading west. He would’ve apparated if he could, only that everywhere he had been to was too far to the east of their current position - meaning that escape was currently difficult.

And so he had instead focused on helping the woman in front of him, being the Valyrian girl who was the victim of the ritual. She was getting better at handling her animagus transformation, able to stay sane in her dragon form for a few minutes before the beast’s instincts eventually overcame her mind.

It turned out that being an animagus required one to overpower the instincts of their animal spirit, which was made especially difficult when one’s form was a dragon. But luckily for her, Harry was a wizard, and could easily turn her back when she went berserk.

“Can you…” She trailed off, biting her lip as heat rose in her cheeks. “Can you get me some clothes?”

He blinked, suddenly realizing his new companion was naked, having lost her clothes in the mess of her transformation. And now that he looked, he couldn’t help but stare, eyeing the way her arms failed to fully hide her soft breasts, or the way her thin waist flowed out to wide hips, which led down to nice legs.

“Sure, sorry.” He grimaced, quickly looking away as he conjured the first outfit that came to mind.

“Harry…” Valaena Belaerys spoke uneasily as she stood, looking down at the traditional outfit he had put her in. “Did you just give me a maid outfit?”

“Uh…” He felt embarrassed in that moment. “Here, let me change it-”

“No!” She exclaimed suddenly, before her cheeks seemed to darken even more. “I-I mean, I like it.”

/////

That had been two days earlier, and since then she had managed to maintain her dragon transformation long enough that she could safely change back once reaching her limit. Right now that was ten minutes, but he was sure she would get a better handle on her animalistic instincts as time went on.

He still remembered Peter Pettigrew, whose personality was split between acting like a man and acting like a rat. Wormtail had spent over a decade in his rat animagus form after all, and it had clearly taken a toll on his sanity.

“Pardon me, my Lord.” Valaena, as she had revealed her name to him, suddenly spoke.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Well, it’s just…” She looked away with some shame. “Surely you don’t want to waste your days here helping me. I have taken up enough of your time already.”

He waited for her to say more, only for her to remain quiet as he realized what she was getting at. It wasn’t the first time she had tried to reject his help, as the woman had expressed her appreciation for his help many times now.

He wasn’t blind to her situation, as Valaena Belaerys was a former Valyrian noblewoman who had been chosen for the ritual centuries ago when it was enacted. She didn’t speak much on the topic, but he had learned that she was chosen for her chastity, basically forced to undergo the painful animagus ritual as the various Dragonlords sought to increase Valyria’s magical might by turning their people into dragons.

Sadly for them, the botched animagus ritual backfired in the most spectacular way possible. Using uncountable amounts of human sacrifices and blood magic to power a ritual that went against the laws of magic had produced a terrible consequence, dooming Valyria as a result of its people’s greed.

In a way though, their ritual was successful. Valaena was now a dragon animagus, only that it had taken centuries for someone like Harry to come around and see the ritual ended, thus freeing her from her imprisonment.

“You are not a burden to me.” He kept his tone sincere, genuinely happy to have someone like her at his side. In a world where magic was rare, it was oddly familiar to have an animagus at his side - as she reminded him of home. “To be honest, I want to help you, and it just so happens that it’s best we stay here to do that.”

If Valaena transformed into her uncontrolled animagus form in the midst of a crowded city, it would be nothing short of a disaster. And so he figured it was best to remain in Valyria’s ruins as he helped her, and not just because of its low population, but also because of the treasures it offered.

Harry would begrudgingly admit that he wasn’t immune to greed, and had pilfered whatever valuables he came across in the past week. The mountain of priceless treasure surrounding him currently in that throne room was a testament to that fact, and he had used the opportunity to both help the woman and enrich himself in the process.

“I see…” She shifted slightly, almost uneasily. “Then, what I say next might be considered a selfish request.”

“Tell me.”

The Valyrian woman knelt. “Please accept me into your service. I will be your guard, your confidant, even your whore if you take me as such. You… You freed me from centuries of imprisonment perpetrated by the Dragonlords upon me in their lust for power. All I ask is that you don’t abandon me.”

“Stand up.” She didn’t move from her kneeling position. “Valaena, please stand. I do not want you as a servant like you described.”

“I…” She swallowed thickly, standing as she clearly feared his rejection.

“Rather, I wish to take you as my companion, my confidant and advisor in all things.” Her eyes went wide at his words. “If you wish to stay at my side, that is fine, but I would have you ranked higher than a measly servant. Is that agreeable?”

“Yes.” She curtsied. “Your generosity knows no bounds, my Lord.”

“Relax, it’s not that big of a deal.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly, feeling his cheeks burn before changing the subject. “How about we ditch this place?”

His new companion tilted her horned head. “You wish to leave?”

“Indeed.” He stood up from the old Dragonlord throne with a stretch, crossing the overly large hall to a wrecked balcony just outside of it. It happened that the view which the balcony looked over was the landscape - or rather, ocean - below their floating island.

In the past day they had been floating over a string of islands, which an inspection of old maps had revealed to likely be the Stepstones. He didn’t find any other islands that stretched from east to west like them, making him guess their island would soon reach southern Westeros before it finally fell apart.

That created a problem, in that they would have to leave soon, otherwise find themselves stranded in the middle of Daenerys’s enemies. Sure, there might be some sympathizers of House Targaryen who would hide them in Westeros, but he didn’t want to take that risk. Having to lug a huge load of loot along with a dragon woman through the Westerosi countryside was simply too much.

And so he studied the sea below them, looking instead for a vessel that would serve their interests. They could always land on one of the islands of the Stepstones, but finding a ship ahead of time to sail back to Astapor would serve their needs best.

Luckily for Harry, he spotted a small fleet of ships about to sail right underneath them, along with a yellow banner with a black stag flying on their masts.

/////

Myrcella Baratheon

“It is an omen from the gods, ser. Truly, the end is nigh if we stay this course!”

“They are far enough away that we don’t need to worry about them.” Arys Oakheart replied calmly, even as their ship’s captain sweated profusely in worry next to him. “Only a couple hours and we will pass them by.”

The cause for concern had appeared two days earlier on the distant horizon, the odd sight of a string of floating islands resting high in the sky far off in the east. The crew had been unsettled to say the least, and even more so as the odd chunks of land floating through the sky seemed to get closer to their ship by the hour.

Whatever they were, or where they even came from, was a complete mystery. The only useful insight they could gain was by using the captain’s Myrish far-eye to get a closer look. But that only gave them more questions than answers, as at best they could make out old ruins resting atop the floating masses of rock.

If only you were here, Uncle. Myrcella knew her uncle, Tyrion, would obsess over a sight like this, and would probably force them to change course in order to get closer. Sadly, the sailors onboard her ship had other ideas, preferring to get to Dorne as soon as possible.

The crew’s unease had only worsened when they woke up that morning to see the floating islands were much closer than before. Sitting as they were leagues above their ship, being high in the sky, the floating islands were still far away, with only their undersides visible now.

Every now and then a clump of rock or even a building would fall from the islands, crashing into the sea below with a great splash. And since their ship was below them now, some of the crew were worried that those loose rocks would fall onto their ship and sink them.

Myrcella craned her neck to stare upwards, ignoring the panicked men and their arguing around her as she studied the odd sight. If magic exists in this world, then this is undeniable proof of it.

She had to wonder if anyone would believe her if she told them about this. Her Mother would probably dismiss and ridicule any tale telling of floating islands as nothing but mummery, and the rest of the court in King’s Landing would be little different.

A speck of white leapt from one of the islands overhead then, and Myrcella rubbed her eye as she looked again. It was nothing more than a flash of light, a slight change in the wind then that made her stare more intently overhead.

“Princess?” Rosamund Lannister, her handmaiden and close friend, asked in worry from her side.

“Do you see that?”

The girl followed her gaze upwards, and all color seemed to leave her face in that moment as she saw what Myrcella was looking at. “W-What is that?”

Whatever it was seemed to be getting closer to them, and not falling through the sky in an uncontrolled descent. It was only as it passed through a small cloud and circled slightly high above their ship that she truly saw it.

A dragon.

It had four wings and a serpentine body with large clawed legs, its head similar to those gargantuan skulls that laid beneath the Red Keep. The creature flew through the air with a grace that contrasted its sheer size, clutching a large cloth sack with its back claws.

But it was when it banked a left turn, its head turning and serpentine eyes narrowing in on their vessel that she saw it wasn’t alone. A man wearing a dark cloak stood on the beast’s humongous head, somehow able to balance as it flew through the air at high speeds.

She didn’t know how long she watched the beast in stunned silence, but eventually one of the crew members noticed it as well.

“DRAGON!”

The cry of terror probably hadn’t been shouted like that in over a century, as the deck became a mess of panicked crewmen running around. Behind her, the captain was panicking even more than before, calling out frantic orders as he tried to get more wind to get away. The threat of the mysterious floating islands were long forgotten now, as a much more dangerous and imminent threat replaced them.

Far above them, Myrcella heard the creature roar, releasing the loudest noise she had ever heard. She nearly fell to her knees from the volume, clutching her ears in pain while ser Arys moved over to shield her.

“Stay close to me, Princess.” Her Kingsguard had unsheathed his sword - for whatever good it would do against a beast of that size.

She felt it before she saw it then, the gust of wind emanating from the dragon’s wings that rocked the ship so much it nearly capsized. A tremendous splash followed it, soaking the ship’s deck in seawater as the creature landed right next to their vessel.

All was silent for a brief moment, before another crash rang out. A large bag landed on the deck of their ship, as big as the royal carriage and messily constructed from cloth. It was torn in a few places, and from those holes poured out gold, gems, and Valyrian steel in such quantities that it made Myrcella gape.

Then came a second impact, as a dark-haired man landed on the ship’s rail right next to the bag of valuables.

She recognized him as the dragon rider, wearing the same black cloak and boots with messy dark hair. He was tall and had a dashing face, a sword sheathed at his side and a short wooden stick held in his right hand.

“Hello there.” The man smirked, his eyes possessing the brightest shade of green she had ever seen. “Nice ship, I think I’ll take it.”

Ser Arys swore under his breath. “Quick, men! To arms! Protect the Princess!”

The Lannister men-at-arms hurried forth, putting themselves between her and the stranger even while their bodies visibly shook in terror.

“Princess?” The dark-haired man blinked in obvious confusion, before one of the men-at-arms charged him with his sword raised.

Myrcella only blinked, and suddenly the attacking guard was bound in ropes as he fell to the deck with a cry of surprise. Small flashes from the intruder’s wooden stick had the other men ending up in similar states, either being wrapped in ropes or falling down unconscious with their eyes frozen.

Magic. She realized what was happening after a long moment. He’s a sorcerer.

“Seven hells.” Ser Arys swore quietly, watching as a dozen men-at-arms were dispatched with ease.

The lone Kingsguard waited, sword held tight until he seemed to sense an opportunity. One of the men-at-arms charged up the stairs leading below deck, getting the sorcerer’s attention as he had to turn around to face him. That was when Arys Oakheart attacked, lunging at a speed Myrcella couldn’t follow as he tried to impale the sorcerer through the back.

It would’ve worked, if not for the massive scaled claw that suddenly grabbed him. She gasped as the white dragon from earlier had clung on to the side of their ship, its front claw grasping ser Oakheart and hoisting him into the air like a toy.

“Thanks, Valaena.” The sorcerer said calmly, and to Myrcella’s shock, the dragon looked at him before nodding.

“Now then.” The dark-haired man mused, walking forward to stand before her. “Which one of you is the Princess?”

Which one of us? She thought in confusion, before realizing that Rosamund was standing at her side. Her Handmaiden was supposed to serve as her body double after all, being chosen by her uncle for that purpose.

“I-I am.” Rosamund stepped forward, holding her head high even while her body shook in fear.

“Hm?” The sorcerer looked at her, before looking Myrcella directly in the eye.

Her father sitting on the Iron Throne. Herself, Joffrey, and Tommen sitting at a table with her Mother, Queen Cersei Lannister. Her name-day tourney and feast from two years earlier. For some reason those memories flashed through her mind’s eye, and she blinked in surprise as they came and went.

A small grin appeared on the sorcerer’s lips then, and Myrcella froze as she instinctively knew that he somehow saw those very memories. His next ominous words confirmed exactly that.

“No, you’re not.” He was looking at Rosamund then, before he turned to Myrcella with a knowing look. “You are though.”

Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18

A/N: Myrcella is aged up to Harry’s age(18) in this story

Valaena’s dragon form is inspired by Lansseax in Elden Ring. As for her human form, a Valyrian version of Albedo would be similar