Dragonstone was beautiful, in a creepy and haunting way. Hundreds of years old, made of Valyrian magic and dragon flame. The castle looked to be made of dragons of black stone, that forever guard those within. Hundreds of Targaryens had lived here, and hopefully hundreds more would. It had been many years since a Targaryen had lived here permanently, thus a steward had been taking care of the castle.

The inside was just a darkly beautiful as the outside. Her mother allowed them all to choose their rooms, Naerys chose a room that had the best view of the ocean. The room was last used by her great-grandmother Alyssa Targaryen, before her it had been Aereas, and before Aerea it had been Daenys the Dreamers.

Ever since they arrived on the island, there had been a tugging in her mind, as though something was attempting to get her attention.

In the quiet of her room, she could hear a low humming. Doing her best to ignore it, Naerys lay down in her new bed to sleep.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She found herself in what appeared to be a surgical chamber, one that would be found in her old life as Padmé. But unlike the white sterile room she had given birth in, this room was black and shrouded in darkness.

A dark hooded figure entered the room, and the moment she saw his face she felt anger like she'd never felt before. Despite how grotesque and disfigured his face had become, she knew this man. Sheev Palpatine. The new self crowned Emperor.

Naerys hated him. He had used not only her husband, but Padmé herself as well. When the Trade Federation had attacked her planet during her first term as Queen, it had been on his suggestion that she call for a vote of No Confidence in then Chancellor Velorum, opening the seat of Chancellorship for Palpatine to take for himself. He had slowly built up more and more emergency power for himself throughout the Clone Wars, to learn he was responsible for the entire war, leading both sides, all so he could destroy the Republic and create an Empire infuriated her.

A DD-13 surgical droids movement caught Naerys attention. It had beckoned the robed figure of Palpatine foreword. "My Lord, the construction is finished. He lives."

'What?' Naerys thought, 'who lives?'

"Good. Good."

The droid led the Sith to the operation table, and Naerys followed. Something lay on the surgical table. A large figure, cloaked in black. 'Is this some new type of droid?' Naerys wondered. 'No, they said he lives. For all the personality Padmé had witnessed in droids throughout her life, they wouldn't be classified as living, especially not by a medical droid. It must be a person. In some sort of life support suit.'

Slowly the surgical table began to rise vertically. And she heard a haunting sound.

KISH KOOSH. KISH KOOSH.

It sounded similar to someone using a respirator to breath, but louder.

"Lord Vader? Lord Vader, can you hear me?"

"Yes my Master"

His voice was deep, likely do to a vocorder.

"Where is Padmé?", the man, this Lord Vader turned to Palpatine, who took one step back. "Is she safe? Is she all right?"

'What? Why would this person worry about m—' Naerys stopped her thoughts right there, because she knew the answer. 'No. No, no, no, no. NO! It can't be. Not him. Not Anakin. ANYONE BUT ANAKIN!'

"It seems..... in your anger.... you killed her."

'No! Don't listen to him! You didn't kill me!'

"I...I couldn't have...SHE WAS ALIVE! I FELT IT!" He raged as his power reached out. The droids that had given him life were now being crushed underneath his power, and several testing tubes broke open.

He broke free of his restraints, taking a few steps forward. Looking down at his new limbs, and then his hands, he had become horrified as to what he had become.

"NOOOOOOOOO!", Vader, formerly known as Anakin Skywalker, screamed in complete despair and sorrow, having lost everything he had cared about: his brother, his apprentice, his wife, his child, his life, and himself. His own voice painfully overpowering the filter for a moment before seething down to the deep echo.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

With a gasp of air, Naerys shot up from sleep. With her arms around her legs and her knees up to her face, she began to cry. No, not just cry, she wept and sobbed. It couldn't be true, that couldn't be real. But it was. And she knew it was.

She felt it again, the tugging in her mind. And the deep humming song that seemed to call to her. Eventually, she looked up with a sniffle. Judging by the sky outside her window it was late, it seemed to be the hour of the wolf.

She knows what that sound means, what that tugging means. Her dragon is calling to her.

Crawling out of bed, she ties on a robe over her night clothes, slips into a pair of boots and grabs her black cloak. The hour of the wolf is the blackest and darkest part of the night, hopefully the black of her cloak will conceal her.

As quietly as she can she slips out of her room swiftly, hoping there are no guards directly outside of her room. It seems the Force is with her this night, as she can see the figure of a guard turning the corner of the hall. Gently she closes the door, holding the handel down so it doesn't make a noise.  Quickly and quietly Naerys makes her way down the hall and through the castle. She sticks to the shadows to stay out of view.

It's easier than it should be, sneaking by the guards, but she believes it is again the work of the Force.

She follows the call, the song that's playing in her heart. It reminds her of Anakin, for some reason. It's a deep tune, a dark song, one of pain and mistakes, of regret, but also one of fire and determination, of passion and protection. It leads her toward the eastern side of the Dragonmont.

She goes swiftly, trying to get out of sight before someone sees her. Before her parents realize she's gone. If she had told them what she was doing, that she was claiming her dragon, they would both have supported her and insisted on joining her. But when they discovered where she was going, and to who, they would never have allowed her to claim her dragon.

Rhaenyra, Laenor and her grandparents had often theorized just which dragon she would claim, or even if she would claim one. Her mother believes her sweet Naerys to be destined for Silverwing, the gentle but fierce mount of Good Queen Alysanne. Her father, thought perhaps there was a hatchling or egg that would call to her. Her grandsire, Corlys, had said mayhap she was not destined for the sky, but rather the sea, as so many of their family was. Naerys did not have the heart to tell him how unlikely that was. Grandsire Viserys had densely said she would most likely claim Dreamfyre, seemingly forgetting that his own daughter, Helaena, had claimed Dreamfyre already, which did not go over well with the Queen.

In contrast, Grandmother Rhaenys never said aloud which dragon she thought Naerys would claim, only that she knew she would claim one. But she always said this while giving Naerys a knowing look. Unsure of how her grandmother knew what dragon she'd claim, even before Naerys herself knew, was a mystery to her. But if anyone would know, it would be Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.

Naerys could hear the song getting louder the closer she went to the Dragonmont. Louder and louder, closer and closer. Until the heart song stopped.

It was difficult to see him at first, from the distance she was. His coal black scales camouflaged him well against the black stone of the volcanic mountain. But his green eyes stood out. There he was. The Cannibal.

"Dohaerās!" She commanded as she walks closer to him. He looks at her and gives a little growl. "lykirī, lykirī !" [Serve! Be clam, be calm]

It seems to work. The closer she gets she realizes just how big ge truly is. Not as big as Vhagar is claimed to be, perhaps the size of Vermithor? She wasn't sure.

"Gevī, gevī!" She compliments him. "Māzīs!" [Good, good! Come!]

He approaches her, curious and excited to see her. She doesn't know how she knows that is what he feels, she just knows. He leans down to look closely at her, she can feel the heat coming off of him. He exhales from his nose, the hot air jostles her hair causing her to giggle. He seems pleased by the noise.

"Kostagon nyke renigon ao?" She cautiously asks, reaching out a hand. [May I touch you?]

He leans down all the way and gently pushes his nose into her hand. Smiling wide she begins to pet him.

"Cannibal is a title. Not a name. Like 'the Balck Dread', 'The Red Queen', 'The Bronze Fury' and 'The Blood Wyrm'. You need a name."

He makes a purring noise deep in his throat. She knows he agrees with her. Naerys already has the perfect name for him. She whispers it to him and she knows he deems it worthy. The black dragon moves away from her a bit and lowers his wing for her to mount him. With a giddy smile, Naerys climbs his shoulder to his back. As a wild dragon, he has no saddle but it doesn't frighten her. She knows he would never let anything happen to her.

Padmé had always loved flying, not as much as Anakin had, but then again, no one loved flying like her husband did. However, she'd never flown on a dragon before her life as Naerys. Now, Naerys had been on Dragons before. Her first ride was with her mother, just days after her birth. Her brother, had been with their father on Seasmoke. Since that first ride, Naerys had ridden on dragons often, but always with another person. With her mother on Syrax or with her father on Seasmoke. But her favorite to ride with was her Grandmother, Rhaenys, atop her Red Queen, Meleys. But today, right now, this was Naerys first time flying by herself, on her own dragon.

In the back of her mind, Naerys hears Ani's voice. "This is where the fun begins!" She can hear his smile in that. If she closes her eyes, she can picture it.

"Sōves, Gaelithox!"  [Fly, Gaelithox!]

She names him Gaelithox after the Valyrian God of fire, the stars, the moon, the sun, and the dawn, the rival of Meraxes. She names him for her past, for her husband, for Luke and Leia. The Son of Suns, and her twin suns.

A name fitting for the dragon of a Skywalker.

Authors Note: Oh thank God! The chapter is finally done! I've had the claiming scene done for months! Before I even started posting! I just didn't know how to get to it. I think it might be kind of abrupt, but oh well. Any way! This is what I picture when I think of Gaelithox, The Cannibal. Images by Dracalyss on Instagram!