A plain of fire as far as the eye could see, and yet nothing burned. In the back of his mind, he knew he should have wondered why nothing did. Whatever fear he would have had was long gone as he stepped forward. The flames grew ever closer until they surrounded him. He was tempted to draw back but continued forward, eyes searching the flames. Several shapes revealed themselves to him: a red, jagged tooth, a sword whose shape betrayed its origin, and what looked to be a city of smiling people with shackles around their necks. He knew not what they meant but largely ignored them as he had more pressing matters to attend to.
As quickly as they came, the flames died down. The brightness of the fire had tricked him into believing it had been day, but it was now the dead of night. The stars blinked down at him alongside a full moon and illuminated a grassy plain once again. Again? Yes, before the fire, it was nothing but green grass, wasn't it? And sitting before him once again was a large pile of ashes.
For whatever reason, the sight caused him to run forward and dig through them for something. He hadn't the slightest idea why, only that it gave him a sense of urgency so great that it overrode any other thought in his mind. Despite the heat, he kept digging, ignoring the stinging on his skin and hastily clawing his way deeper and deeper until--
The carriage shifted and collided with the side of Vaeron's head, shocking him enough to fully wake him. His hand flew to his head as he sat up properly, lilac eyes blinking repeatedly as his vision cleared. The carriage was foreign to him, one borrowed after the Lord of Winterfell had graciously offered to better prepare him for the cold waiting for him. Yohn Royce, a knight clad in the gold armor of the Kingsguard, sat across from him with great concern on his face. He was little more than a face Vaeron had seen maybe a handful of times, but the same could be said for Brynden Tully, his primary guard for his grand adventure.
"Remnants of a dream, pay no mind to it," Vaeron uttered as he stole a glance out the window.
"How far is the Wall?"Yohn mirrored Vaeron.
"Castle Black lies just ahead, Your Highness. We met a few of Lord Flint's men on their ride to Winterfell while you slept," He said.
"You didn't think to wake me?" Vaeron asked.
"The queen gave explicit instruction not to disturb you unless absolutely necessary when you slept. She expressed some concern over making sure you had adequate rest," He replied.
"Brynden handled them, you needn't worry."That sounded like his mother, all right. Fortunately for him, any protest was swept away with the wind as he noticed the few structures against blue--that must have been the Wall! It was strange, he had heard it repeatedly referred to as Castle Black, but there weren't any castles so to speak. There were several towers and keeps, sure, but there wasn't any true castle. Even so, it was a sight to behold as the Wall towered over
everything. The awe he felt at finally laying eyes on just one small part was great, and he had practically jumped out of the carriage on his own as it finally came to a halt.
Vaeron's eyes and head looked up, and up, and up until he realized he couldn't crane his neck anymore to see the Wall touch the sky. He righted himself to look around at the men of the Night's Watch walk around, few giving them the time of day aside from a few passing glances. Whatever stares lingered were either on him or on Yohn, who was less than pleased at the quality of the men around them. He must have possessed the same worry his own mother did; the Night's Watch was filled with only two types of men, those who sought glory as the famed Jon Snow once did, or those who were criminals.
Considering the massive entourage that his father absolutely insisted on accompanying him, it was safe to say that the Crown Prince felt like he had little to worry about.
Brynden Tully entered his view, scarcely taking a look around. Either he was unimpressed by Castle Black or he did not care--Vaeron wasn't sure which one it was. Eventually, he did turn back to Vaeron to address him.
"Stay here, Lord Flint will want to greet the Prince of Dragonstone personally," Brynden stated, motioning for Yohn to remain as well as he walked towards the closest men.
"How many would come to greet Vaeron Targaryen without the title, I wonder," He mused out loud, though did as he was told as he looked back up at the Wall.
