I continue patting a hand along the side of my dragon's face, he keeps his eyes fixed on the scarlet dragon opposite us, the two of them trade loud, rumbling calls that sound like insults, they don't look pleased with one another.
Between the dragons a woman waits, standing with a composed, curious tilt to her head, her gaze slides over me and holds.
I began walking toward her, careful with each step of my approach.
"Who are you, child?" she asks, stern as a mother scolding a misbehaving boy.
"I—" I start, then wear a confused, innocent voice. "I don't know that either, ma'am."
Her stare softens for half a breath. "I'm cold, do you have anything to wear? My dragon nearly cooked me, I had to take my clothes off otherwise I'd burn."
The woman watches me for a long moment, then steps forward, my first instinct is to back away, she keeps her hand behind her back and moves with a kind of deliberate caution that could be threat or mercy, when she reaches me she pulls free a grimy rag from behind her belt.
"It's not much, child, but wrap this around you," she says, offering the rag.
"Thank you," I say, taking it, the fabric smells of smoke and hearth, it isn't fine, but it will cover my naked body.
She waits, then asks, "What's your name, then?"
I glance at her. "I don't have a name," I say, stubborn and small.
Her brows lift. "What? Everyone has a name."
"I don't," I repeat, sharper this time.
"Forgive me," she replies quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"Do you have parents?" she asks softer now.
"No," I say. The words land heavier than I expect, even if I did I would never classify them as my parents, the fuckers did not even look after me and aren't in my life. "I've been alone for a long time."
"What's your name?" I ask, curious in the way only a child can be, though inside I'm weighing her just as carefully as she's weighing me.
"I am Princess Rhaenys Targaryen," she replies at last, her tone steady, carrying the weight of her position.
"Woah, a princess! I thought Targaryens all had white silver hair, though, you do have purple eyes," I said, letting the words slip out with a nervous laugh. "So, you're related to the king?"
"Yes," she answered simply, "He is my cousin." She glanced at me. "My mother was a Baratheon. Strong genes run in that family, that's why my hair is black."
The sea wind whips against us, carrying salt and spray, my dragon shifts behind me, his shadow stretching long across the sand, while her scarlet red dragon keeps a wary eye fixed on him. Around us, the beach lies wide and empty, broken only by dark black rocks protruding out of the surf, just the open world, her, me, and two dragons sizing each other up.
"Strange," she says, eyes narrowing as she studies my massive dragon. "I've never seen the one you ride, must be a wild one, unknown"
"Does it have a name?" she asks.
"No," I reply, "or at least not that I'm aware of, something we have in common."
She laughs, a bright, amused sound. "You two are made for each other, it seems."
"But tell me," she continues, her curiosity sharpening, "how did you bond with it"
"He chose me," I answer, grinning.
"And where did this happen? How did you find him?"
"I'm not really sure, I don't remember the path, I'm tired." I let my voice droop, then add, "But I know it was a big, dark cave." I try to sound disappointed.
"I also stumbled across a bronze dragon it nearly ate me alive, hah!" I say
"My gods, you're a little rascal, aren't you? You ran into Vermithor?" she says, half, scolding, half, amused.
"Woah." My head snaps toward the scarlet dragon. "What's that one's name?" I ask, pointing.
"That one is mine," she says, her voice steady. "Her name is Meleys."
I can't help but stare. "She's, beautiful," I breathe, awe catching in my throat.
Honestly, I'm surprised the conversation isn't going sideways.
She reaches out and rests a hand on my shoulder. "Child," she says softer now, "would you like to come with me to Dragonstone? I have questions for you, and you look half, starved and exhausted, you could eat, rest, get cleaned up."
I know she wouldn't take no for an answer if I tried, "I would love that," I say, jumping up and down, "I'm very hungry."
I sprint at her and throw my arms around her in a sudden hug, it startles her, but she relaxes and laughs. "Ha, quick one, aren't you."
"Do I fly back with you?" I ask.
"No, your dragon is far too large, I'll take you on mine."
"Can I speak with him before we go?" I say, already running towards the beast.
"Of course."
It, lies lazy on the sand, huge as a hill, I bop him on the snout. "Oi, I better not hear you've caused any chaos, you're bonded to me now what you do, I get in trouble for, behave." He only grumbles in response.
When I turn back to Rhaenys, her eyes widen in shock before a grin spreads across her face, "Did you just, punch a dragon? And wait, were you flying without a saddle?"
"Yep," I say.
"Hahaha kid, you're either brave or crazy."
She scoops me up and carries me, striding toward Meleys, she mounts with ease unlike my struggle to climb mine, we settle into a proper saddle that hugs the dragon's back, I understand why they use them It's safer, it's steadier and easier to hold on.
Dragonstone
Rhaenys flew me across to Dragonstone, the fortress rose from the cliffs like a natural extension of the island itself, built from dark volcanic looking stone and crowned with towering battlements, dragon shaped statues lined the walls, their mouths releasing thin wisps of smoke.
When we landed in the courtyard, servants and guards rushed forward, only to stop and stare, their gazes were heavier than Rhaenys's had been, suspicious, curious, whispering, who was this child walking beside the princess with just a rag covering himself?
Rhaenys said nothing to them, she simply led me inside the castle's vast halls, through stone corridors alive with torchlight, the ceilings stretched high and the walls were carved with intricate shapes and ancient runes, telling the stories of old Targaryen's and their dragons.
Eventually, she brought me into a wide, warm kitchen, the smell of fresh bread, fish, and sweet fruit hit me like a wave, before I could say a word, a simple platter was set before me, bread, apples, a few slices of fish, and some other seasonal fruit. I devoured everything, grateful for the meal, while Rhaenys sat nearby, arms crossed, watching me as though studying some strange puzzle, she didn't ask many questions, only small ones, how long I'd been alone, where I grew up, if I knew my parents, I answered carefully, slipping between truth and lies, giving her just enough to keep her satisfied.
Once I'd finished, she led me to a chamber, my own room, with a real bed, I stood there staring at it as though it were a trap. She told me everything would be alright, but that in the days ahead, I would be kept busy. "Best get your rest," she said firmly, at the door she added, "In two days, Princess Rhaenyra, will return to Dragonstone, you'll want to be ready."
Then she left me alone, for the first time in years, I slept in a bed.
The following morning, the castle stirred around me, servants moved quietly through the halls, one of them bringing me fresh clothes that smelled faintly of lavender. A tall man in heavy plate armour stood watch nearby, a proper warrior, broad shouldered and silent, the black and red three headed dragon of House Targaryen emblazoned across his chest. He didn't speak much, but I could tell he was here to guard me, I felt safer with him around, he looked like he could take on an army and win.
I spent most of the day buried in books, learning more about Westeros and the Targaryen's, what surprised me most wasn't the history, it was the fact that I could read, I'd never been taught, not properly, but the words came to me like they'd always been there like how I could understand the common tongue.
I read about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives, about Aegonsfort, now called King's Landing, Maegor the Cruel and the infamous battle beneath the Gods Eye, where dragon fought dragon, Maegor against his nephew, Aegon the Uncrowned, then came Jaehaerys I Targaryen, the Conciliator, the Wise, later known simply as the Old King.
Right now, the Targaryens had three active dragonriders:
Prince Daemon Targaryen, rider of Caraxes
Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, rider of Syrax
Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, rider of Meleys
The Velaryons had two:
Laenor Velaryon, who rode Seasmoke
Laena Velaryon, bonded to Vhagar, the largest living dragon
It all stemmed from the marriage between Rhaenys Targaryen and Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, their union produced Laenor and Laena two dragonriders born of fire and salt.
There were more dragons, wild, untamed, hatchlings and fledglings too young to ride. But among all of them, I never found another like mine, no description fit him, no name, the only thing I had heard was a rumour of a monstrous dragon, that resided on Dragonstone, one that devoured its own kind, a cannibal.
I also studied the realm itself, the great houses and their vassals, from House Stark in the North, to the Vale and the Riverlands, the Ironborn of House Greyjoy, the Baratheons of Storm's End, the golden Lannisters of the West, and the fertile Reach ruled by House Tyrell. Dorne, of course, remained independent, still unbowed after failed attempts to bring it under the Iron Throne.
Finally, I was learning things that came from facts, not from the whispers of others.
Rhaenys tested me in quiet ways, she'd ask me to walk the battlements with her, speak with me about history, politics, dragons, but it wasn't casual, she watched me closely, her eyes sharp, weighing every word I said like she was waiting for me to slip.
On the second day, the castle prepared for Rhaenyra's return, servants scrubbed the halls, torches were relit, and banners bearing the three, headed dragon of House Targaryen were unfurled, the air buzzed with expectation, Rhaenys visited me again, this time with a sharper look in her eye.
"Rhaenyra will want to meet you," she said. "Answer her questions truthfully"
"I have already sent ravens to kings landing, it would have reached by now, the king will be notified of your presence, this is no small matter young one, you are a random child that we do not know of, yet you have a dragon, I suspect the king and not just him but the entire council will want to meet you and see first hand of who you are."
Can't say I did not suspect this result if I'm being honest.
That evening, as the sun sank low and set the sky ablaze, I stood at my window, staring out at the restless sea. My dragon was out there somewhere, circling the skies or resting in the caves and even from afar, I could feel the connection tugging at me, I reckoned that if I called to him from here, he would come, I'd have to test it sometime.
And then the horns blew, long, deep notes that rolled through the fortress, from the skies above, two dragons appeared, bright and unmistakable. The one with golden yellow scales was Syrax, ridden by Princess Rhaenyra, and soaring beside her was a pale silver dragon known as seasmoke, its rider Laenor Velaryon, her husband.