Aranji stayed in King's Landing far longer than he ever intended. The city was too loud, too crowded, too full of stone for someone who had grown up beneath forests and open skies. But he remained, slipping through the Red Keep like a shadow, because Rhaenys was learning and he wanted to see how far she could go.
He taught her nothing dangerous. No jutsu, no seals, nothing that could draw attention or risk her safety. Instead, he taught her the foundation beneath everything he knew: chakra. What it was. How it moved. How it felt when it was calm, when it stirred, when it responded to emotion or breath. They met in quiet corners of the castle—gardens at dawn, empty training yards at midday, the library when the Keep slept. Rhaenys sat with her eyes closed, breathing slow and steady, while Aranji explained the nature of the energy she had carried her entire life without knowing its name.
"Chakra isn't something you force," he told her one morning as she balanced a leaf on her forehead. "It's something you listen to. It's already inside you. You're just learning to hear it."
And she did. Every day, a little more.
Aranji never walked the castle in his true form. He used the Transformation Jutsu constantly appearing as a servant, a guard, a stablehand, even a passing noble. To everyone else, he was invisible. But Rhaenys began to notice. At first she thought it was coincidence, a familiar presence, a strange warmth in the air. But then she realized she was sensing him—not his face, not his voice, not his disguise. His chakra.
The first time she recognized him, she whispered, "It's you."
He didn't deny it. "Good. You're starting to feel it."
It wasn't a trick. It was deliberate. He wanted her to learn the way shinobi children did not through instruction alone, but through instinct.
The change became impossible to ignore when she next rode Meleys. The Red Queen soared higher than usual, her wings beating with a vigor that made the air tremble. Her turns were sharper, her dives faster, her flame hotter. Rhaenys felt it immediately an energy thrumming beneath her palms, a vitality she had never sensed before. Meleys roared, a sound that rolled across the sky like thunder.
"You feel stronger, girl," Rhaenys murmured, exhilarated. "What's gotten into you?"
The dragon's great head turned, one golden eye studying her rider with unusual clarity. And Rhaenys felt it a pulse of chakra, faint but unmistakable, echoing her own. Aranji had been right. Her dragon was responding to her growing awareness. The bond between them was deepening.
On the days Aranji wasn't teaching her, he vanished from the Red Keep entirely. He traveled the Crownlands with the tiger he had summoned the day he arrived in this world the same tiger that had stood beside him, massive and silent, its golden mane catching the sun like fire. The beast never spoke, but it didn't need to. It understood him. It followed him. It watched the land with the same sharp eyes Aranji used when scouting terrain.
Together they searched for something specific unclaimed land, untamed land, a place he could shape. A place where he could build something of his own. A village. A sanctuary. A home. The tiger padded beside him, silent but steady, its presence grounding him in a world that still felt foreign.
What Aranji didn't know was that Rhaenys was searching too. Whenever she rode Meleys, she looked down at the land belo wrolling hills, winding rivers, untouched forests. She tried to imagine where Aranji might build his home. She didn't know why she cared so much. But she did.
She found herself thinking: He would like that valley. The wind is strong here good for training. He could grow trees there. This place feels… peaceful. She didn't tell him. Not yet. But she was looking. For him.
By the end of the week, Rhaenys felt different. Her senses sharper. Her breath steadier. Her bond with Meleys deeper. She could feel chakra in her fingertips, in her spine, in the air around her. She could feel Aranji even when he was disguised. She could feel her dragon's heartbeat from across the Dragonpit.
She was becoming something new. Not a warrior. Not a sorceress. Not a shinobi. Something uniquely hers.
And Aranji… Aranji watched her with a quiet pride he never voiced. The moon and the dragon, growing stronger together.