Chapter Text
The First Meeting
Drakōnes gevie ūndegon
Rȳsā se gevie syt
Ao kostagon ñuha rōva
Skorī ñuha jorrāelagon
Dragons flying overhead
Shadow over stone
You laugh beside me softly
And my heart is yours
Dragonstone’s courtyard smelled of salt and smoke. The wind rolled in from the sea sharp and cold, carrying the faint sting of sulfur from the mountains and caves where dragons rested. Dark grey stone gleaming under a pale morning sun, half hidden beneath clouds, dew clinging to every step Ike scattered pearls. Below in the harbor, a royal ship swayed gently against the docks. The three headed dragon of house Targaryen sails flowing in the wind, black against red.
It was a royal visit.
Prince Aemond of house Targaryen had been sent to the crown princess’ keep so he might try to bond with a dragon of his own. An egg most likely to warmth beneath his touch or perhaps a hatchling -hopefully-. It was the King’s wish that the visit might ease the widening distance persisting between the royal family lines.
Others, of course, had different hopes.
Aemond had arrived with what felt like a small army of servants and guards. He had been sent far from his mother — as she had not been given leave to go with him — yet, never truly beyond her reach.
None of that mattered to the prince.
All that mattered was the reason he had come to his half-sister’s domain.
A dragon.
If he succeeded in this mission, Aegon and the strong boys would finally stop laughing at him. His dragon would one day be fiercer than theirs, the mightiest one. Then, they would see.
Then they would regret every word.
He shut his eyes briefly.
- Behold! The pink dread! -
The memory burned, but this fire did not frighten him, for fire meant he was a Targaryen.
He shook the memories away.
In two days he would be allowed into the caves where some of the eggs were kept, the Crown Princess herself would accompany him. There were not many unclaimed hatchlings, he had heard the whispers that the Cannibal had apparently eaten several clutches, extinguishing their fire away.
What a waste.
Until then, he wandered.
Dragonstone was full of hidden corners, old stairways and shadowed alcoves where the wind whispered like ghosts, memories of the dragon lords of old. For now he was simply discovering some of the secret nooks in the keep. The library had proven the most rewarding discovery. He had found some interesting books on Valyria and dragons in the library. Most importantly, from there came the treasure he had taken away, a leather book, dark with age, filled with writings on dragon bonding.
For three days he had kept mostly to himself.
Breaking his fast alone, training with wooden swords before the others even rose, or going on solitary walks, as alone as he could be when there were his mother’s guards following him around. His long shadows.
He would never say it aloud, but he had been avoiding Jacaerys and Lucerys. Better solitude than their mocking laughter.
This morning he had not gone to the training yard. Instead he had taken his book to the gardens overlooking the sea, gardens that were connected to deep woods.
From there he could see new arrivals. Silver scales glimmered in the distance.
Silverwing.
Once the dragon of the Good Queen Alysanne. Now the mount of Princess Vaella Targaryen, eldest daughter of Prince Daemon. She was part of the cadet branch, one of the Targaryens of the “Three Flames”. A fierce woman by all accounts, who spent most of her time in the Stepstones with her family. Now that Princess Rhaenyra was living in Dragonstone, she apparently was a frequent visitor. Or so his mother scoffed about.
Aemond watched the great dragon circle once above the castle before disappearing beyond the cliffs.
Whatever, he would stay here for a fortnight, claim a dragon and return to King’s Landing victorious.
Perhaps with this his father might finally notice him. He sighed, keeping his attention on his book, until the lights shined brighter.
“What are you reading?”
The voice interrupting him was soft.
It pulled him from his reading and thoughts both, like a thread tugging loose.
Aemond looked up. A girl stood beneath the tree.
Her eyes were the first thing he noticed.
Not the pale purple common to their bloodline, nor the deeper violet of his own gaze. Hers were something else entirely. A deep luminous amethyst, flecked with tiny sparks of light that seemed to dance when the sun touched them. A small beauty mark rested beside her left eye. Highlighting the cluster of light eyelashes.
Her silver-white braids were loose and messy, strands of hair escaping in every direction.
She was small.
Very small.
His interruption had the Valyrian look, without a doubt.
”Do you not speak High Valyrian?” She asked, frowning slightly.
Aemond slowly blinked.
”Of course I speak High Valyrian.” He said sttifly. “I am a prince of the blood, Aemond Targaryen son of King Viserys”
He straightened his back, doing his best to look regal. His ears turned faintly red.
The girl’s face lit instantly.
“I’m Daenys!” She said brightly. “But you may call me Dany, cousin.”
She smiled as though this were the most natural thing in the world.
The granddaughter of the Rogue Prince, Princess Daenys of the Stepstones.
Without asking for permission, she sat beside his blanket and began plucking at the grass. Without a care for her clothes.
“That is improper” Aemond said, remembering his mother’s lessons. “You are a princess.”
”It’s Dany.” She corrected.
Then she lifted her chin with unmistakable princely authority.
” And since I am a princess, that means you should do as I say. At least a little.”
Before he could think to answer she pointed at the book.
”Read it to me.”
Aemond hesitated. He had every reason not to trust her. His mother always warned him of the deeds of his uncle, and how obviously any of his descendants would be the same. Yet. She was not looking at him the way the others did, there was no mockery to be found in her eyes.
Only curiosity.
Kindness, a soft kindness that made something inside his chest loosen. Warmth spreading.
He glanced toward his guard in the distance, the man was watching, making no move to intervene. Was that amusement in his eyes?
Ugh.
Slowly, Aemond sat beside her.
”I’m reading about dragon bonding” He admitted, switching to the common tongue.
”I came to Dragonstone to claim a dragon”
He braced himself, would she mock him too? For being dragonless, he knows her dragon hatched for her. His grandsire and mother had stewed about that, how this princess from a cadet branch had her egg hatching at her birth and he, the son of the king, could not even claim a dragon.
She wrinkled her nose
“You do not claim a dragon” She said gently, as if repeating words. She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“You greet them first. You show them who you are” Her finger tapped the book.
His eyes were locked to hers.
”Grandfather says dragonlords must speak with respect. In High Valyrian. The old tongue reminds them we are blood of their blood.”
Her eyes shone.
”Then you have to say Lykiri. It means to be calm. Dragons like it when you are calm. I bet it says that in your book.” She continued.
Then suddenly she jumped to her feet.
”I have a better idea!”
Aemond looked up.
“You will practice with my Aegarax.”
His heart lurched.
“Y-you would do that?” He hated how hopeful his voice sounded.
“Yes, I promise!” She said immediately. “I was hiding from Jace and Luce anyway, let’s go!”
She grabbed his hand. Her fingers were warm, small, certain. There was no doubt or hesitation on her. As if she had already decided she was worth keeping.
“Come!” She dragged him deeper into the garden.
“My Aegarax has never been chained, so she does not stay in the dragonpit, she came with me in Silverwing since she is too little to fly such a long distance— Aegarax hatched the same night I was born, muña says we screamed at the same time…”
She kept on talking, he could feel the warmth from the soft skin of her hand, her braid was beautiful in a Valyrian style. They had left his guard near the tree, he would probably worry when he realized that Aemond was not there, but for the first time he found out he did not care, not even if his mother hit him or yelled at him. He only cared for this incipient friendship, a friend. One that would not mock him. She suddenly let go of his hand, oh. Had she gotten mad that he did not respond, would she become cross with him, and decide that his nephews were better company…
”Here she is! Come my girl” a happy thrill answered her.
A small dragon lay curled in the shade. Her scales shimmered the same amethyst color as Daeny' s eyes, edged with fine silver along the ridges of his wings. Aegarax.
Aegarax lifted her head.
Molten silver eyes fixed on Aemond. The dragon studied carefully, longer than necessary. He forced himself not to step back. The blood of Valyria does not retreat.
“Aegarax,” Daenys said, rubbing the dragon’s big jaw. “This is Aemond. He is my cousin.”
The dragon huffed softly.
“He needs to find his bond,” she continued. “So we must help him.”
Aegarax blinked slowly.
”See?” She said brightly. “She agrees.”
“When you meet a dragon you say lykiri first.”
Aemond swallowed.
“Lykiri.” he murmured. She smiled happily at his compliance.
“Then you say Dohaeras, and their name. Or you could sing, my grandpa sings them Valyrian lullabies, dragons love them!”
They were very close now. Daeny’s gaze was bright with excitement.
“Try” she urged.
“Lŷkiri” he muttered warily, as he came closer.
“Aegarax— Dohaeras”
The dragon exhaled a puff of warm smoke. Then he nudged them both with his snout. They fell backward into the grass.
Dany burst into laughter.
He gasped.
He was touching a dragon! Well, the dragon was actually touching him. Same thing.
The grass was damp beneath them, their clothes were probably ruined. He did not care. He felt so carefree and light.
He began to laugh.
Beside him, Dany’s head rested in the grass, her amethyst eyes sparkling with delight. The wind shifted, he caught the faint scent of jasmine from her hair. He would remember that scent for the rest of his life.
“Since Aegarax likes you” she declared proudly, “that means that we are friends!” Dimples appeared beside her grin, she was missing a tooth.
”Okay.” Aemond say quietly. A vow.
“And since we are friends,” She continued, pointing firmly at him, “you must call me Dany.”
He studied her carefully. The girl who spoke to dragons. The girl who had fearlessly taken his hand. The girl who had not laughed at him.
Aemond’s gaze shared the same glint of Aegarax. Mine.
”Dany.” He said at last.
Something settled deep inside his chest then. Quiet. Unmovable.
Aemond had never truly protected anybody before, no one he cared this much about, no one that trusted him this way. If anyone tried to harm her. Never. He would protect her then.
One day he would ride the greatest dragon in the world.