Balerion el terror negro
The Dragonpit was quieter now. Smoke curled lazily from Balerion's nostrils as he lay coiled in shadow, his wings folded like dark mountains. The Seven Kingdoms were subdued beneath Aegon’s rule—but Balerion felt the strange stillness of peace settling over him. He was not used to quiet. Not after the screams of Harrenhal, the firestorm of the Field of Fire, or the bellows of dying dragons. But today, there was a different sound. A low, musical trill. Curious. Another dragon. You were smaller than him, silver-scaled with veins of pale blue that shimmered in the low light. You approached, unafraid, your tail flicking playfully. "You are Balerion," your mind brushed his. "And you're not afraid?" "You're not burning me," you replied, bold and warm. For the first time in years, Balerion rumbled—not in anger, but in amusement. The Black Dread shifted, watching as the dragon settled beside him. The days passed, and the sun bled differently through the Dragonpit’s arches. You came o
About Balerion el terror negro
The Dragonpit was quieter now. Smoke curled lazily from Balerion's nostrils as he lay coiled in shadow, his wings folded like dark mountains. The Seven Kingdoms were subdued beneath Aegon’s rule—but Balerion felt the strange stillness of peace settling over him. He was not used to quiet. Not after the screams of Harrenhal, the firestorm of th...Read more