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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑

INTO THE STORM

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With a gentle pivot of her body, she directs her gaze towards Tony, and a soft, genuine smile graces her lips. "I do apologize for keeping your calls waiting," she expresses, her voice a melodious blend of contrition and warmth.

 "But you see, I've never been the type to eagerly rush into the fray and attempt to rescue the entire world," she confesses, her eyes holding a hint of amusement at the thought. Her delicate fingers begin to toy with a lock of her hair, twirling it around her index finger as she speaks. "That was always more my mother's domain," she continues, her words suffused with a tender nostalgia. "My mother, Dany, known as Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt," she adds with a touch of pride, "was the one who truly embodied the spirit of selflessness and valor, never turning a blind eye to those who were in dire need of assistance."

 She pauses for a brief moment, allowing the weight of her words to settle before she resumes speaking, "Her compassion was boundless, and her willingness to help was as fierce as the dragons she once called her children." Her voice is filled with reverence as she recounts her mother's legacy, and it's clear that the woman standing before him is contemplating the profound impact that her mother's altruistic nature has had on her own life. "But as for me," she concludes with a sigh, "I find myself navigating the complexities of my own path, one that doesn't necessarily mirror hers in every respect."

Rhaelyria exhales deeply, her shoulders drooping slightly as she intertwines her fingers together, contemplating the gravity of the situation. "Tony," she murmurs, her voice laden with concern, "I'm truly sorry, but I'm just not certain if I possess the strength or capability to stand alongside you and the Avengers in confronting a deity." She averts her gaze from him, her eyes glistening with a mix of doubt and fear.

Tony's heart skips a beat at her words, the weight of her uncertainty striking him like a blow. Without a moment's hesitation, he reaches out with a gentle touch, his hand coming to rest on her bare arm in an attempt to offer comfort and reassurance. However, the sudden, protective growl from VEZHOFRĒNOR, the mighty dragon, causes him to pause, his hand hovering just above her skin. The dragon's emerald eyes flash with a fierce intensity as he bares his sharp teeth, the lisp he usually speaks with momentarily forgotten in his protective stance.

"Do not lay your hands upon my rider," VEZHOFRĒNOR warns, his tone low and menacing, "unless she has explicitly granted you permission to do so." The dragon's head sways as he speaks, his powerful neck muscles rippling with each syllable. Tony's hand trembles slightly before he withdraws it, his gaze locked on the creature that seems to radiate a fiery challenge.

"Rhae," Tony says softly, using her nickname to try and ease the tension that has suddenly thickened the air between them. He knows that the dragon is only looking out for her, but the protective instinct is difficult to ignore. She turns back to him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Just...just go," she whispers, her voice cracking. "I don't want you to stay here and see me like this. I don't want you to get hurt, and I certainly don't want to be the reason for any regret you might have."

Tony's throat tightens as he nods solemnly, understanding the gravity of her words. He takes a step back, his eyes never leaving hers as he reluctantly accepts her request. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat, so he simply dips his head in a silent nod before pivoting away from her.

With a heavy heart, he makes his way back to the edge of the terrace, the ironclad resolve of his alter ego, Iron Man, slowly building within him. He pulls on the metallic suit, each movement a silent affirmation of his commitment to protect her and the world, even if it means going against her wishes. The gleaming red and gold armor encases him, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil that churns beneath the surface.

As he takes to the skies, the wind whipping through his hair, he can't help but cast one last look back at the queen. She stands there, a solitary figure against the backdrop of the moonlit city, her hand outstretched in the direction he just left. A part of him wants to return to her side, to assure her that he'll be there when she needs him, but duty calls, and he must answer.

With a final sigh, Rhaelyria turns away from the empty space where Tony once stood, her eyes lingering on the spot for a few moments longer before she too, turns away. The dragon, ever vigilant, watches the retreating figure of Iron Man with a knowing gaze, his fiery breath warming the cool evening air. Despite her reluctance, he knows that the time will come when she'll need to stand with the heroes, and he'll be there to guide and protect her. Until then, he'll stand by her side, a silent sentinel against the shadows that threaten to engulf them all.

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The relentless downpour echoed through the grandiose palace hallways as Rhaelyria strode purposefully toward the riverside. Her island sanctuary, usually a bastion of tranquility and serenity, had been shrouded in a cloak of rain almost perpetually, which had begun to take a toll on her spirits. The persistent precipitation was not only a source of irritation for Rhaelyria but also for Vezhofrēnor, the mighty dragon she shared her rule with. He was known to spend most of his time in the comfort of his cave, his fiery presence a stark contrast to the gloomy atmosphere outside, when the weather was as such.

The throne they had once established in the towering mountains was no more, a fact that was particularly displeasing to Vezhofrēnor. The majestic perch had served as his bastion of solitude, a place to retreat to when the hustle and bustle of receiving guests grew tiresome. Now, without it, he was forced to confront the realities of their new situation, which included his occasional displeasure at the lack of privacy.

As Rhaelyria approached the river, a figure emerged from the shadows, his dark brown hair neatly secured in a ponytail that swayed slightly with his movements. The man's smile was warm and genuine as he clasped his hands together in greeting. "Ah, good day to you, Madam Rhaelyria," he announced. "I am Anakin Skywalker, the esteemed mayor of this island paradise. What may I do to be of service to you today?"

Rhaelyria's eyes lit up slightly at the sight of him. "Anakin, I've been eagerly awaiting any word regarding the confrontation in New York. Is there any news on Loki's whereabouts?"

Anakin's expression grew solemn as he delivered the news. "I'm afraid the situation is not as straightforward as we had hoped. Loki, the god of mischief, remains a thorn in our side. He is currently in the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D., being held aboard their helicarrier for further interrogation. Director Fury has insisted on your immediate presence. His patience has worn thin, and he's made it clear that he expects you to attend to the matter without further delay."

Rhaelyria couldn't help but feel a tinge of exasperation. "Why on earth do they require my assistance? Surely, with the likes of Thor among them, they are more than capable of handling a rogue god," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with weariness as she rubbed at her eyes.

Anakin offered a knowing smile and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "I cannot claim to understand the intricacies of their strategy, Your Highness, but it seems that your expertise is deemed essential. Besides, I suspect that if you refuse, Natasha Romanoff may be dispatched to ensure your compliance, and she's not one to be underestimated."

At the mention of Natasha, Rhaelyria let out a soft chuckle. "Very well, I shall comply." She paused for a moment, her gaze drifting to the windows, where the moon's silvery glow pierced through the veil of rain. "Vezhofrēnor," she called out softly, and the dragon responded with a graceful landing on the narrow strip of sand connecting the island to the mainland.

His golden eyes searched hers as he asked, "What is it, Rhae?" She replied with a determined nod, "We're off to New York. It seems our assistance is needed once again." The dragon let out a gruff sound, his displeasure with the idea clear. "Those self-important humans? Do we really have to?"

Rhaelyria couldn't help but chuckle at his grumbling. "Yes, dear Vezhofrēnor, it appears we do. If we wish for them to cease their incessant requests for aid, we must show them that we are willing to help."

Turning back to Anakin, she inquired, "You and your companions will be joining us, I presume?" Anakin nodded solemnly, his hand over his heart. "Indeed, Madam. We shall not be far behind."

With that, the Jedi Master retreated, leaving Rhaelyria to contemplate the journey ahead. As she watched him disappear into the corridor, Vezhofrēnor let out a puff of smoke, the warmth of it briefly caressing her back. "I know you're looking forward to this about as much as I am," she said dryly, climbing onto his back.

The dragon rumbled under her, his voice a deep bass that resonated through the night. "You have feelings for him," he observed, a hint of mischief in his tone.

Rhaelyria rolled her eyes. "Don't be absurd," she said, though the slight blush that crept into her cheeks belied her words. With a snort, she settled into her position. "Let's go, Vezhofrēnor."

The dragon took to the skies, his powerful wings slicing through the rain-laden air. They soared through the tempestuous night, the moon's light playing off his scales as they made their way toward the distant lights of New York City. The wind howled around them, a mournful symphony that seemed to mirror the reluctance in their hearts. Yet, despite their apprehension, they knew that duty called, and together, they would face whatever challenges awaited them.