The sun shone brightly over the beach, casting warm rays on the black sand as the salty air mingled with the chirps and trills of dragon hatchlings. Gazaro, the mighty black dragon with white-glowing flames, stood proudly among his brood of fifteen hatchlings, each of them bounding, leaping, and flapping their tiny wings. They chirped excitedly as they met their aunts and uncles—Gazaro’s eleven younger dragon siblings. The elder dragons, large and majestic, regarded the little ones with curious eyes, their tails swishing lazily as they indulged the hatchlings’ playful antics.

Dreamfyre, ever the doting mother, nuzzled one of her hatchlings gently, crooning a soft melody. She was a picture of maternal pride, her silvery-blue scales gleaming in the sunlight. But while Dreamfyre showered the hatchlings with affection, Gazaro stood as the stern father figure. His sharp, watchful eyes tracked every movement, ensuring discipline among the chaotic bunch. When one of the hatchlings harshly nipped their uncle’s tail, Gazaro gave a low growl that sent the tiny offender scurrying back to its siblings, chastened.

Vensalia watched the scene unfold from a rocky outcrop not far from the beach, her arms crossed and her expression torn between amusement and exasperation. While she was relieved that the hatchlings were thriving and well-behaved under Gazaro’s strict guidance, she couldn’t ignore the larger problem at hand: Gazaro and Dreamfyre’s very prolific relationship.

“Honestly,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “If they keep this up, we’re going to have hundreds of dragonlings running around, and the realm might just collapse under the weight of their chaos.”

She thought back to the past few weeks. Ever since Dreamfyre had laid the fifteen eggs, Gazaro had become impossibly possessive and affectionate toward her. His usual aloof and regal demeanor vanished whenever Dreamfyre was nearby. He would nip at her neck, preen her wings, and croon sweetly in his deep, rumbling voice. It was almost endearing—if it weren’t for the fact that every interaction between the two seemed to threaten another round of eggs.

“Not on my watch,” Vensalia muttered, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Gazaro edging closer to Dreamfyre, his massive head lowering to nip at her neck again. Dreamfyre, of course, seemed to enjoy the attention, crooning softly and leaning into him.

Vensalia groaned. “That’s it.”

Summoning her umbrakinesis, she conjured a massive shadowy object—a chancla, the oversized sandal rippling with dark energy as it solidified in her grip. It was the perfect weapon for a dragon disciplinary session.

Gazaro, sensing her approach, turned his massive head toward her, his glowing eyes widening slightly at the sight of the formidable shadow chancla. He let out a low, questioning growl, but Vensalia was already advancing, her steps purposeful.

“Gazaro!” she called out, her voice carrying over the beach. “How many times have I told you? Enough with the neck-nipping! We do not need more eggs!”

Gazaro blinked at her, feigning innocence, but when she raised the chancla threateningly, he let out a deep rumble of protest and began backing away.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Vensalia said, pointing at him with her free hand. “You’re not flying away this time.”

With a flick of her wrist, tendrils of shadow coiled around Gazaro’s wings, anchoring him to the ground. He let out an indignant roar, but Vensalia was relentless, marching toward him with the chancla raised high.

Dreamfyre watched the scene with a mix of amusement and mild concern, crooning softly as if to tell Gazaro, You’re on your own, dear.

From a distance, Aemond stood near the edge of the dragon pit, having just arrived to check on the dragons. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Vensalia storming across the beach, her shadowy chancla in hand, chasing the mighty Gazaro, who was now awkwardly crawling backward in an attempt to avoid her wrath.

Aemond’s lips quirked into a rare smile. He leaned casually against a boulder, folding his arms as he watched the spectacle unfold.

Vensalia, now within striking distance, swung the chancla in an arc, the shadowy sandal making a dramatic whooshing sound as it cut through the air. Gazaro let out a startled roar and tried to dodge, but the chancla landed squarely on his massive flank with a satisfying thwack.

“That’s for ignoring me!” Vensalia declared, swinging the chancla again. “And this is for trying to sneak another clutch of eggs behind my back!”

Gazaro let out a series of grumbles and whines, his head lowering as if in apology. The hatchlings, who had been watching the chase with wide, curious eyes, began chirping and squeaking in excitement, clearly enjoying the drama.

Aemond chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’ve truly met your match, haven’t you, Gazaro?” he murmured, his voice filled with fond amusement.

The chase continued for a few more minutes, with Vensalia alternately scolding Gazaro and swiping at him with the chancla. Finally, satisfied that she had made her point, she stopped, planting the shadow chancla into the sand like a banner of victory.

Gazaro, now thoroughly chastened, let out a low rumble and nuzzled Dreamfyre’s neck in apology. Dreamfyre crooned softly, forgiving him with ease.

Vensalia wiped her brow, muttering under her breath. “Unbelievable. A dragon of his size and strength, brought low by a chancla.”

Aemond finally stepped forward, his boots crunching against the sand. “That was quite the performance,” he said, his tone light and teasing.

Vensalia turned to him, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Aemond shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “I won’t deny it. It’s not every day I see a dragon being disciplined with such... creative methods.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Well, someone has to keep him in line. Otherwise, we’ll be drowning in dragonlings by the end of the year.”

Aemond chuckled, his gaze drifting to the hatchlings, who were now climbing over Gazaro’s tail and playing tug-of-war with each other. “They seem happy enough,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve earned a reprieve—for now.”

Vensalia sighed, crossing her arms. “For now,” she agreed. “But mark my words, Aemond, if Gazaro so much as looks at Dreamfyre the wrong way again, the chancla is coming out.”

Aemond laughed, the sound rare and genuine. “I’ll be sure to stay out of your way when that happens.”

The two stood in companionable silence, watching the dragons on the beach. For all the chaos and humor of the day, there was a sense of peace in the air—a reminder that even in the wild and unpredictable world of dragons, there was room for discipline, love, and a little bit of mischief.

---

The beach was serene, bathed in golden sunlight as the waves whispered against the shore. Meleys, the Red Queen, lay sprawled across the warm sands, her crimson scales glistening like molten gold in the sunlight. For days, this peaceful coastline had been her sanctuary, free from the clamor of the dragon pit and the chaos of King’s Landing.

Her rider, Rhaenys Targaryen, had been preoccupied with court affairs, leaving Meleys to indulge in her favorite pastime: sunbathing. She stretched her long neck, letting the warmth seep into her, her golden eyes half-closed in blissful relaxation. Nothing could disturb her here—at least, that was what she thought.

A strange scent wafted through the air, faint but distinct. It was unfamiliar, and her instincts kicked in. Her eyes snapped open, and her head shot up, scanning her surroundings. When she turned, her gaze locked onto a figure approaching from the tree line.

A dragon.

But not one she recognized.

This newcomer was unlike any dragon she had encountered. His scales shimmered with an unusual gradient: a deep, oceanic blue at his head that transitioned to a silvery-white along his massive tail. His luminous green eyes seemed to glow, their intensity captivating. He was enormous, dwarfing even Meleys, and that alone made her wary.

She growled low and deep, the sound reverberating through the beach. This was her territory, her peace. Who dared intrude?

The male dragon didn’t flinch at her growl, though he did halt his approach. In his jaws, he carried a sack, its contents clinking with each step. He carefully lowered the sack onto the sand, the motion deliberate and unthreatening.

Meleys growled louder, her body tense and coiled, ready for an aggressive move. The sack fell open, spilling its contents onto the sand: orbs, glowing in ombre hues of purple and silver, their surfaces swirling as if alive.

The sight gave her pause. She tilted her head, her growl subsiding into a soft rumble of confusion. She had never seen anything like them before. Her gaze shifted between the strange orbs and the male dragon, her wariness still evident.

The male dragon lowered his massive body to the sand, flattening himself in a gesture of submission. His head dipped low, his luminous green eyes watching her carefully.

Meleys raised herself to her full height, her golden-frilled neck arching as she moved closer, her steps slow and measured. She sniffed cautiously at the orbs. Their scent was sweet, almost intoxicating, with a hint of something magical. Her instincts told her to be wary, but the inviting aroma was hard to resist.

She hesitated, her sharp golden eyes locked onto the male dragon. He remained motionless, his posture humble and patient, as if he were waiting for her to make the next move. Finally, her curiosity overcame her caution. She picked up one of the orbs delicately in her jaws and bit into it.

The orb dissolved instantly, releasing a burst of flavor that seemed to energize her entire being. Warmth spread through her body, and for the first time in years, she felt invigorated, youthful, and strong. Her wariness began to melt away.

Meleys turned her attention back to the male dragon, her gaze softer now. He had brought her a gift—one that was not only thoughtful but also genuinely beneficial. She sniffed at another orb, then another, devouring them one by one until the sack was empty.

When she finally lifted her head, she regarded the male dragon with a new perspective. His gesture had been genuine, and his behavior was unlike any suitor she had encountered before. There was no aggression, no show of dominance, only respect and a quiet confidence.

She stepped closer, her nose brushing against his in a tentative nuzzle. The male dragon perked up at her touch, letting out a soft rumble of happiness. He gently nuzzled her back, his movements careful and considerate.

Meleys stepped back slightly, watching him with keen eyes. The male dragon let out a low trill, his head dipping once more as he carefully nipped at her neck—a light, respectful gesture that marked the beginning of a bond, not an aggressive claim.

Satisfied, Meleys relaxed fully, her body lowering slightly as she accepted his courtship. The two dragons settled on the sand together, side by side. Their massive tails intertwined loosely, a silent symbol of their newfound companionship.

For the rest of the afternoon, they basked in the sunlight, their scales gleaming in the golden glow. The beach, once quiet and solitary, now felt alive with a new sense of warmth and connection.

The male dragon occasionally glanced at Meleys, his green eyes filled with contentment. Meleys, in turn, found herself appreciating his presence. He was different, and that difference was a welcome change.

As the sun began to set, casting a fiery glow across the horizon, the two dragons remained on the beach, their connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

---

The sun was high in the sky, its rays shimmering over the calm waves as Rhaenys Targaryen rode along the coastal path leading to the secluded beach near King’s Landing. The sound of the sea accompanied her, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore mingling with the soft clop of her horse’s hooves on the sandy trail. She was dressed in a riding cloak of muted crimson, her white hair pulled back into a simple braid.

This was her sanctuary, a place where she could meet Meleys without the suffocating presence of the Red Keep. With Corlys engrossed in courtly affairs, Rhaenys had seized the rare opportunity for solitude and the exhilaration of flight. She planned to soar over the outskirts of King’s Landing, where the air was crisp and free from the stench of the city.

As she descended the final slope leading to the beach, she felt a flicker of anticipation. Meleys would be waiting, as she always was, her majestic crimson scales gleaming under the sun. But as Rhaenys reached the edge of the dunes, her steps faltered.

There was Meleys, her massive form sprawled across the sand, her wings partially unfurled. The Red Queen was unmistakable, her powerful frame relaxed in a way that spoke of absolute contentment. But beside her, partially obscured by Meleys’ form, lay another dragon.

Rhaenys froze.

The stranger was enormous, dwarfing even Meleys in size, his presence commanding and foreign. His scales shimmered like the ocean at dusk, a deep blue that faded into silver-white along his tail. His horns were unlike any she had ever seen—thick and spiraling like those of a ram, giving him an otherworldly appearance.

Her heart raced as her eyes darted between the two dragons. The unknown male was pressed close to Meleys, their tails loosely intertwined. They lay in quiet companionship, their breaths slow and synchronized, as if they had been bonded for years.

Confusion swept over her. Rhaenys had never seen this dragon before, not in the dragon pit, not anywhere in Westeros. His size and unique features marked him as extraordinary. But where had he come from? And why was Meleys, a proud and fiercely territorial dragon, lying so calmly beside him?

She instinctively rested a hand on the hilt of her dagger, though she knew it would be of little use if the situation turned hostile. Dragons were unpredictable, especially when it came to unfamiliar territory or intrusions.

Her gaze flicked to Meleys, searching for signs of distress. But the Red Queen remained at ease, her massive head resting on the sand. Rhaenys took a hesitant step forward, her boots crunching against the soft ground.

Meleys stirred.

The great dragon opened her eyes slowly, her fiery gaze falling on Rhaenys. Recognition flickered in her expression, but Meleys did not rise. Instead, she let out a low, rumbling sound—a soft vibration that reverberated through the air.

Rhaenys stilled, her breath caught in her chest. The sound wasn’t one of warning but of reassurance, a message that all was well. Meleys shifted slightly, her massive wing brushing against the male beside her.

At Meleys’ rumble, the unknown dragon stirred. His luminous green eyes blinked open, their glow startling against the deep blue of his head. He turned his gaze to Meleys, nuzzling her affectionately before turning his attention elsewhere.

Rhaenys watched as his eyes locked onto her.

She held her ground, her hand still resting on her dagger. The dragon regarded her with an intensity that made her skin prickle, but there was no aggression in his gaze, only curiosity. His massive head tilted slightly, the sunlight catching the silver sheen of his scales.

The wind carried the scent of salt and sand as Rhaenys tried to steady her breathing. She wasn’t sure what to make of this encounter. Dragons did not simply appear out of nowhere, especially not one of this size and bearing.

Could he be wild? she wondered, though the thought seemed absurd. Dragons had been domesticated by the Valyrians long ago, their wild kin fading into legend. Perhaps he had come from across the Narrow Sea, from some hidden corner of Essos where dragons still roamed freely.

Her thoughts raced, each possibility more implausible than the last.

The male dragon lifted his head, his horns casting long shadows on the sand. He seemed to study her, his eyes bright and unblinking. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he turned his attention back to Meleys, nuzzling her once more before settling his head on the sand.

Rhaenys’ grip on her dagger relaxed slightly, though her unease remained. She took another step forward, the sand crunching beneath her boots. The sound seemed to draw the male’s attention again, his head turning toward her with fluid grace.

She raised her hands slowly, palms facing outward in a gesture of peace. “Easy,” she murmured, though the words were meant as much for herself as for him.

The dragon’s nostrils flared, his chest rising as he inhaled deeply. He rumbled softly, a sound that vibrated through the ground. It wasn’t threatening—it felt more like acknowledgment, as if he were recognizing her presence.

Meleys shifted again, her tail brushing against the male’s. She let out another low rumble, her gaze flicking between her rider and her companion.

Rhaenys took a deep breath, her mind racing. She had heard whispers in court of strange dragons brought by Vensalia Vakriyoma, the enigmatic child who seemed to know more about dragons than anyone else in the realm. But Vensalia’s dragons were said to be black and white, their power and loyalty unmatched.

This dragon did not fit those descriptions.

Could he be one of theirs? she wondered, though the thought only deepened her confusion. If he were, why had Vensalia not mentioned him? And if he weren’t, where had he come from?

The sun continued its slow descent, casting long shadows over the beach. Rhaenys remained rooted in place, her mind torn between curiosity and caution.

One thing was clear: this was no ordinary dragon, and his presence was no coincidence. Whether he had come for Meleys, for her, or for some other purpose entirely, Rhaenys knew she would need answers.

But for now, she waited, her gaze fixed on the two dragons who rested side by side as if they had always belonged together.

---

Rhaenys Targaryen stood still for a moment, her heart racing in her chest as she tried to absorb the sight before her. The soft sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air, but it was as if time had momentarily slowed down. The familiar form of Meleys, her majestic red dragon, lay sprawled on the sand, her deep crimson scales glinting in the afternoon sun. However, what struck Rhaenys with a mix of shock and curiosity was the much larger dragon beside her.

The unfamiliar dragon was a striking sight. His massive body was unlike anything Rhaenys had ever seen before. His head was a deep, rich blue, the color shimmering in the sunlight, but as the color moved toward his tail, it faded into a silvery-white. His scales seemed almost ethereal, glistening as though dusted with stardust. His eyes, when they opened, were a luminous green, glowing with an almost otherworldly hue. He was larger than Meleys, and there was a certain air about him—his size, his presence—that commanded attention. Yet, he wasn’t aggressive or threatening. Instead, he was gently nuzzling Meleys, his body coiled protectively around her, as if guarding her from anything that could disturb their peace.

Rhaenys couldn’t help but feel an unsettling sense of confusion. She had always known Meleys to be independent, proud, and fiercely protective of her territory. To see her dragon so at ease with this unknown male, who seemed to be basking in her presence, was a mystery in itself. It didn’t make sense. Meleys had never allowed another dragon so close, let alone allowed one to stay by her side without a fight.

As she watched, Meleys responded to the male dragon’s gentle nuzzles with a soft rumble, her golden eyes gleaming as she shifted her head to acknowledge him. Rhaenys observed the way the two dragons interacted—a bond deeper than simple companionship. It was something more… intimate.

Taking a cautious step forward, Rhaenys felt her heart flutter in her chest. She had never expected to see her dragon in this way. Meleys had always been a creature of power and dominance, and to see her so… vulnerable, so soft, was a shock to Rhaenys. She had always believed that her dragon was untouchable, yet here she was, allowing the strange male dragon to nuzzle her and express such affection.

Rhaenys instinctively reached out and stroked Meleys’ neck, a soft, comforting gesture. The familiar sensation of the warm scales beneath her fingers helped ease the rising tension in her chest. Meleys turned her head slightly at the touch, her golden eyes locking with Rhaenys’ for a moment before the dragon returned her attention to the male dragon. There was a calm in her gaze, a quiet acceptance that Rhaenys couldn’t ignore.

As Rhaenys continued to observe them, her gaze fell to Meleys’ neck. There, hidden beneath the thick mane of her dragon’s scales, Rhaenys noticed a faint mark—something that had been left by another dragon. At first, she wasn’t sure what it was, but upon closer inspection, she recognized it as a bite—a gentle one, not born of aggression, but rather of something else. A mark of courtship.

The realization hit Rhaenys like a wave crashing against the shore. The male dragon wasn’t just some random creature that had wandered into Meleys’ territory. No, this was her mate. The gentle protectiveness, the way he kept nuzzling her, the way he watched over her—everything about his behavior made sense now. He wasn’t just another dragon in the area. He had been drawn to Meleys, just as Meleys had been drawn to him.

Rhaenys felt a wave of emotions wash over her. Surprise. Confusion. Even a tinge of jealousy. But mostly, there was understanding. She had spent so many years with Meleys, knowing the dragon’s every mood and thought. Meleys had always been strong and independent, but to see her with this male dragon, it was as if Rhaenys was witnessing a side of her dragon that had been hidden from her. Meleys was, in her own way, capable of love—of finding a companion who respected her strength, yet also understood her need for tenderness.

The strange dragon’s head turned slowly, revealing those glowing green eyes once more. Rhaenys met his gaze, and for a moment, there was a silence between them. The male dragon didn’t seem hostile. He didn’t even seem particularly interested in her presence. Instead, there was only curiosity in his eyes as he regarded her with an almost knowing expression. He didn’t seem bothered by her at all. In fact, his attention was almost entirely focused on Meleys.

Rhaenys took a step closer, her eyes never leaving the unknown dragon. He didn’t move. His large body was relaxed, stretched out next to Meleys, but his posture was one of submission—gentle, not threatening. His body lowered slightly as if to acknowledge her, but he remained by Meleys’ side. There was no aggression, no challenge. Just a quiet, respectful understanding of their roles in this delicate moment.

Meleys, for her part, seemed at ease with the situation. She nuzzled the male dragon again, her rumbling hum filling the air. Rhaenys’ heart softened as she realized the depth of the bond between them. It wasn’t just a mating ritual; it was something deeper. It was a mutual respect, an understanding. Meleys had chosen this dragon—not out of necessity or dominance, but because she had found something in him that resonated with her own spirit.

As Rhaenys continued to stand there, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for the male dragon. He was not what she had expected. In fact, he was nothing like the typical dragons she had encountered in her life. He wasn’t aggressive or territorial. He wasn’t fighting for dominance. He was simply… present. And he was making sure Meleys felt safe, loved, and cherished in a way that was unique to their bond.

Rhaenys took another step forward, this time with more confidence. She reached out and stroked Meleys’ neck once more, the warmth of her dragon’s scales reassuring her. Meleys responded by turning her head toward Rhaenys, offering a soft rumble of acknowledgment. It was as though Meleys was saying, This is okay. I’m okay.

Rhaenys then turned her gaze to the male dragon. “You are her mate, aren’t you?” she asked softly, more to herself than to him. The question was unnecessary, of course. She had already figured it out. The way he had marked Meleys, the way he cared for her—it was clear. This dragon, this stranger, had found his place by her side.

The male dragon didn’t answer her with words, but he did something that spoke volumes. He lowered his head in a small gesture of respect, his horns glinting in the light. Then, in the most gentle of gestures, he extended his neck and nuzzled Meleys once more. His actions were simple, but the meaning behind them was undeniable. He was telling Rhaenys that he was here for Meleys—that he would stay by her side, and that he had earned his place in her life.

Rhaenys stood in silence, watching them for a moment longer. A part of her was surprised—hadn’t expected to find Meleys in the company of another dragon, especially one so… gentle. But another part of her, deep inside, was happy. Happy for Meleys. Happy that she had found someone who understood her, who would protect her and share in her moments of joy.

She took one last glance at the pair, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “Take care of her,” she whispered to the male dragon, knowing he would understand.

As if in response, the male dragon nuzzled Meleys once more, rumbling softly, his green eyes glowing with warmth and affection.

Rhaenys took a step back, a small smile tugging at her lips. She knew, without a doubt, that Meleys had found her companion. And now, Rhaenys would leave them to their peace—her dragon had found her mate, and she had found a new understanding of what it meant to love, to be loved, and to trust in another soul completely.

---

The sun had only just begun to rise over the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the beach. The soft sound of the waves lapping against the shore filled the air, mingling with the chirping of birds in the distance. Rhaenys Targaryen, wrapped in the tranquility of the early morning, made her way toward the familiar spot where she had left Meleys the previous day. She had spent a restless night, her mind occupied with thoughts of the previous day’s surprising revelation—the strange male dragon, his deep blue and silver-white scales, and the bond he had shared with Meleys.

Rhaenys had woken early, eager to return to the beach and see how things had unfolded overnight. As she walked along the sandy path toward the shoreline, her eyes scanned the horizon, and it didn’t take long for her to spot Meleys. The red queen was waiting for her at the edge of the beach, her massive form standing tall against the rising sun. The dragon’s golden eyes locked onto Rhaenys as she approached, and there was a warmth in the gaze that made Rhaenys smile.

But as Rhaenys drew closer, her eyes caught something that caused her heart to skip a beat. The unknown dragon—Meleys’ mate—was standing just behind Meleys, his large form unmistakable. He had his head lowered slightly, as if in a gesture of respect. His luminous green eyes were focused on Rhaenys, his posture calm and relaxed, but his presence was still imposing.

Meleys, ever the bold and independent creature, let out a joyful trill as Rhaenys neared. It was a sound of recognition, one that carried both affection and a hint of impatience, as though she had been waiting for her rider to return. Rhaenys smiled in return, the bond between herself and her dragon evident in the way their eyes met.

As she reached Meleys, the red queen extended a hand to her dragon’s neck, stroking the warm scales with affection. Meleys responded by nuzzling her gently, the soft rumble of her contentment vibrating through Rhaenys’ fingertips. The bond between them was unspoken but deeply understood. Rhaenys felt a surge of warmth in her chest, knowing that, despite the new developments in her dragon’s life, their connection had not faltered.

“I missed you, my beautiful girl,” Rhaenys murmured, her voice soft but filled with genuine affection. Meleys tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes gleaming with understanding, and then nuzzled Rhaenys once more.

Rhaenys took a step back, readying herself to mount her dragon. She had always found the process effortless, the connection between rider and dragon so natural that it felt like second nature. She ran her hand along Meleys’ side, taking in the familiar warmth of her scales, and then swung herself onto the saddle, settling into place with a practiced grace.

Meleys’ wings fluttered slightly as if anticipating their flight, and Rhaenys could feel the tension in her dragon’s muscles, the eagerness to soar through the sky once more. The early morning air was cool and refreshing, and Rhaenys longed to feel the wind in her hair as she flew above the clouds. She nodded to Meleys, giving her the silent command to take off.

With a powerful thrust of her wings, Meleys lifted off the ground, her massive form soaring into the sky. Rhaenys grinned, the familiar rush of freedom washing over her as they climbed higher, the world below shrinking into a patchwork of greens and blues. Meleys flew gracefully, her wings cutting through the air with ease, and Rhaenys allowed herself to simply enjoy the moment, relishing the serenity of the early morning flight.

But as they ascended, Rhaenys noticed something that made her pause. From the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow move in the distance, and as she turned her head, she saw the unexpected sight of the male dragon—Meleys’ mate—following them.

At first, Rhaenys thought it might be a trick of the light or a mistake on her part, but as they flew higher, she saw him more clearly. The massive male dragon was gliding through the air behind them, his powerful wings beating in rhythm with Meleys’. His silver-white tail trailed behind him like a comet’s tail, and his luminous green eyes remained fixed on them. He was following them, without hesitation, without fear.

Rhaenys felt a mix of confusion and awe. She had known that Meleys’ bond with the male dragon was strong, but she hadn’t expected him to follow them in this way. It was as if the two dragons had become inseparable, their connection so deep that even the vastness of the sky couldn’t keep them apart.

“Is he following us?” Rhaenys muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible against the wind rushing past her ears. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes locking with the male dragon’s green gaze. There was no malice in his expression, no challenge. Just a quiet, respectful understanding, as though he had made his decision to stay by Meleys’ side, no matter where she went.

Meleys, sensing Rhaenys’ curiosity, turned her head slightly to glance back at the male dragon. She let out a soft trill, as if to reassure her rider that all was well. The sound carried through the air, and Rhaenys couldn’t help but smile, a sense of peace settling over her. It seemed that Meleys was content with her mate’s presence, and if Meleys was okay with it, then Rhaenys could accept it too.

The two dragons continued to fly together, their wings beating in perfect synchrony. Meleys led the way, her body cutting through the air with grace and power, while the male dragon followed closely behind, his larger form a shadow against the blue sky. Rhaenys couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe as she watched the pair. It was a rare and beautiful thing to witness—two dragons so connected, so attuned to one another that they moved as one. The bond they shared was undeniable.

For a while, they flew in silence, the world below them sprawling out like a vast canvas. Rhaenys closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the wind to whip through her hair, feeling the freedom of the sky. There was something liberating about flying with Meleys, and now, with the presence of the male dragon, it felt as though they had become part of something greater—a family of dragons united in their bond.

After some time, Rhaenys glanced over her shoulder again. The male dragon was still there, following them without question, as if this was simply the way things were meant to be. She wasn’t sure what had brought him into their lives, but one thing was clear—Meleys had found her mate, and the bond they shared was unbreakable.

As the sun continued to rise higher, casting its golden light over the world below, Rhaenys allowed herself to relax into the rhythm of the flight. There was no need for words, no need for explanations. She could feel the strength of Meleys beneath her, the quiet trust of the male dragon behind them. The two of them were no longer just dragons—they were family, and Rhaenys felt a deep sense of peace knowing that Meleys had found someone to share her life with.

With a final glance at the male dragon, Rhaenys smiled to herself. They were together now, in the sky, with the wind in their wings and the world stretching out before them. She didn’t need to understand everything right now—sometimes, the beauty of life was in the mysteries, in the things that couldn’t be explained. All she knew was that this moment, this flight, was perfect in its simplicity. Meleys had her mate, and they would fly together, side by side, for as long as they wished.

Rhaenys let out a soft laugh, a sense of contentment filling her heart. “Let’s see where the wind takes us,” she whispered, her voice lost in the rush of the air. And with that, the three dragons soared into the sky, bound by a connection that only they could truly understand.

---

Rhaenys Targaryen stood at the edge of the bustling dock, her eyes squinting against the bright afternoon sun. She had just come from the Red Keep, where news had been flying fast and furious through the halls, but none of it had prepared her for what Corlys Velaryon was about to tell her.

"Thirteen dragons, Rhaenys," Corlys said with a grin, as if he were reveling in her shock. "Thirteen dragons in King's Landing. Can you believe it?"

Rhaenys froze, her hand still holding the ship’s rail as she looked at Corlys in disbelief. "Thirteen?" she repeated, her voice a mix of amazement and mild horror. "How is that even possible? Vensalia has that many dragons?"

Corlys nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And that’s not all. You know Dreamfyre, right? Well, her mate, Gazaro, has a clutch of fifteen eggs." He let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching Rhaenys’s face as her expression shifted from disbelief to utter shock.

"Fifteen?" she echoed, her mind struggling to comprehend the sheer scale of it. "That’s... that's madness. How many dragons is that now? With all the others she’s hiding?"

Corlys chuckled. "Vensalia claims it’s part of the Vakriyoma dragon genes. They’ve got an unusual way of keeping the dragons... productive, shall we say?" He raised an eyebrow, as if the situation was just as much a source of amusement for him as it was for the rest of the Velaryons.

Rhaenys frowned, still processing the news. The Vakriyoma bloodline was known for its mysterious, almost magical abilities with dragons, but she hadn't realized it extended to the sheer number they could breed. Thirteen dragons in King's Landing... and with Gazaro’s clutch, that made a total of at least twenty-eight dragons. The thought of that many dragons under one roof—so to speak—was both impressive and a little unnerving.

"Well, I suppose it’s good to know there will be plenty of dragons around when the time comes," Rhaenys said dryly, though there was a hint of wariness in her voice. "But still... Thirteen dragons? I must be getting old if I’m just hearing this now."

Corlys laughed. "You’re not getting old, Rhaenys, just a little behind the times. But don’t worry, you’ll catch up. You always do."

Before she could respond, a loud voice rang out from the distance, carrying across the wind. Rhaenys recognized it immediately—it was Vensalia, scolding someone in the most animated way possible. The laughter that followed made it clear that the Targaryen children, Aemond and Helaena were enjoying the scene.

"Veltharion!" Vensalia’s voice called, sharp and commanding. "What on earth are you doing? How are you going to take care of Meleys when all you do is sleep around and fly all day?"

Rhaenys’s head snapped to the side, her gaze fixing on the distant figures of Vensalia and her dragons. Sure enough, Veltharion was there, looking entirely unbothered by Vensalia’s tirade. His large, majestic form was relaxed, as if he had no care in the world.

Helaena, standing nearby, giggled at the sight. Aemond, his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow and looked like he might burst into laughter at any moment. Rhaenys’s lips twitched into a smile despite herself. She had seen Vensalia scold her dragons before, but there was something incredibly entertaining about seeing Veltharion, the enormous and powerful dragon, get a verbal dressing-down from his rider.

"You’re going to be a proper mate, Veltharion, or I swear to the gods—" Vensalia’s voice grew even sharper. "How are you going to take care of her? You can’t just fly around all day and pretend like everything’s fine. Do you even know how to hunt properly anymore, or are you going to let her do all the work?"

"She’s a dragon, Vensalia," Aemond muttered under his breath, barely holding back a laugh. "She doesn’t need Veltharion to hunt. She can hunt herself."

Helaena shot him a playful glance. "Maybe Veltharion just needs a little... guidance," she said with a smile, her voice teasing.

Rhaenys could barely contain her own chuckle as she watched the interaction unfold. It was clear that Vensalia had a deep bond with her dragons, but there was no denying that she was fiercely protective of them. She cared for them as one would for family, even if that meant scolding them from time to time.

"Your clutch better be less than ten eggs, Veltharion, or I’m going to get you!" Vensalia warned, her voice booming with authority. "I don’t need any more trouble with your... endeavors."

Rhaenys’s eyes widened at that. "Ten eggs? That’s a lot for one dragon, don’t you think?" she whispered to Corlys, who merely shrugged in response.

Vensalia, however, wasn’t done. As if realizing the weight of her words, she softened her tone just a little. "But I’m going to miss you, you know. You better come visit us when you can. Meleys will want to see you."

There was a brief pause before Veltharion’s deep, rumbling growl echoed in the air—a sound of agreement, or perhaps an acknowledgment of the scolding he’d just received. Rhaenys smiled, her amusement growing as she watched the two dragons interact. Despite Vensalia’s gruff words, there was a softness there too. It was a strange but wonderful dynamic between them.

Finally, with one last lingering look, Vensalia turned to leave. "I’ll be seeing you, Veltharion," she called, her voice much gentler now. "Take care of Meleys. Don’t make me worry about you."

As Vensalia began walking back toward the waiting ship, Rhaenys couldn’t help but smile fondly at the scene. She’d always known Vensalia was a force to be reckoned with, but this... this was something else. The protective, yet playful relationship she had with her dragons was something Rhaenys admired deeply.

"I swear, that dragon of hers is a handful," Rhaenys muttered, still smiling as she turned toward Corlys. "But it’s clear they have a bond."

Corlys nodded, his eyes glinting with amusement. "A bond that’s not easily broken, I’d say. But it’s good to see Veltharion finally taking some responsibility. If he can keep up with Meleys, that’s a good start."

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow at Corlys’s words but said nothing. Instead, she turned her attention back to the dragons, her gaze softening as she watched Meleys. The dragon had been waiting patiently, her large form a familiar and comforting sight.

After a moment, Rhaenys mounted Meleys with practiced ease, and the dragon’s massive wings flapped in anticipation. The two of them were ready to take flight. But just as they prepared to soar into the sky, Rhaenys heard a familiar sound behind them—a deep, powerful roar.

"Veltharion," she said with a grin, shaking her head. "I suppose he’s not letting Meleys go after all."

Sure enough, Veltharion had taken to the sky, his large wings cutting through the air as he followed Meleys and Rhaenys. Rhaenys chuckled as she urged Meleys higher, watching as the two dragons flew side by side, their silhouettes growing smaller and smaller against the vast sky.

Rhaenys and Meleys soared gracefully through the air, but the unexpected appearance of Veltharion was a reminder that, even when you thought you had everything figured out, life always had a way of surprising you. The massive dragon kept close behind, as if he’d made up his mind that Meleys—and Rhaenys—were his to protect.

"Looks like he’s decided to follow us all the way to Driftmark," Rhaenys said with a smirk, turning to glance at the massive dragon trailing behind them.

Meleys let out a low, contented rumble, and Rhaenys couldn't help but laugh. "I suppose it's not the worst company to have."

As the three of them flew off into the distance, leaving the Velaryon ship behind, Rhaenys couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy. With Veltharion now in tow, this was sure to be an interesting journey ahead.