Chapter Three
"I'll fight by my right, and for my kind,"
-Smaug II
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The mood is tense as the small council chambers of the Red Keep assembled with the rare occurrence of the King making an appearance at the head chair of the table. Normally seeing the king present at gatherings like these is a good sign with the proof that the current monarch of the newly established Baratheon Kingdom is fulfilling his duties.
Not so in these gatherings.
Robert Baratheon, current ruler of the famed Seven Kingdoms of Westeros united under the Iron Throne is red-faced and swaying this way and that looking ready to fall at the slightest push. His beard unkempt and half-lidded with drunkenness and his hair looked like it could have seen better days. At his hand is a half-filled bottle of Dornish wine and his doublet is ruffled, as if he didn't even took the time to make himself presentable before showing up.
All in all the man sitting at the head of the Small Council is a far-fetched person from the Demon of the Trident, riding with such savage bravery that the Targaryen loyalists panicked at the very sight of the black and yellow figure with the huge Warhammer splitting the skulls of men that dared stand in his way. In fact if you compare the current king of Westeros to that man, this one who had already a slight belly protruding from his shirt would have been mocked as a bad imitation of Robert Baratheon.
"So have you found those dragonspawn yet?" demanded the King making everyone flinch at the question.
Varys who had painfully somehow successfully managed to retain his rank of Master of Whispers by sheer luck and months of successful work to convince the king that he is no Targaryen loyalist, gulped and answered seeing that no one is ready to brave the king's ire.
"Unfortunately the news is still the same your Grace, the children of Queen Rhaella is still residing at the house of Sir Willem Darry and his loyal servants at Braavos while we still have no news of the whereabouts of Elia Martell and her children…as usual,"
Everyone flinched hard as the bottle that Robert is holding flew across the air, nearly taking Stannis' head along with it as it exploded on the opposite wall. The drunk form of the king loomed over everyone as he seemed to turn redder than ever at the sheer amount of rage that his House is known for.
"I WANT THOSE DRAGONSPAWN FOUND AND DEAD BY ANY MEANS! I DON'T CARE HOW YOU DO IT, BUT I WANT THEM FOUND AND THEIR CORPSES BROUGHT IN FRONT OF ME, UNDERSTAND?!"
Sure that the stunned Small Council got his point, Robert waddled in the direction of the exit leaving silence behind him as everyone began thinking among themselves. For Varys it's a good thing he didn't dare mention the rumors that the "gold dragon" that the Mountain that Rides is spouting about to Tywin when he made his excuse that he didn't manage to kill the royal family had been seen once more at Starfall, who supposedly ate Ashara Dayne halfway through her suicide jump. Goodness only knows what would happen if the king heard that rumor and he don't want the kingdom destabilized as it is. Still, he made a mental note for his little birds to confirm these rumors. Already he could see the ruin that might be brought into the kingdom as Lannister influence continues to grow in court and everywhere else.
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Somewhere on the ruins of Old Valyria, a very unhappy groan came from the large jaws of a very unhappy dragon. Oh how he wished he could turn back time and simply didn't dare check the source of that magic call. His beautiful simple life is ruined and the cause of that is none other but this two-legs-dragon-blood firecracker trying to teach him words from their own language, forcing him to learn.
Rhaenys, that's her name or at least that's what he thought the small two-legs-with-dragon's-blood name is with the way she kept repeating it for some reason believed that he's the next best thing that she had seen next to her mother.
When he first brought them here, it had been a complete bother and almost got Rhaenys and the whelp named "Eggon" or something like that freefalling with their mother panicking inside his mouth. More than once he had contemplated swallowing the screaming naked-two-legs but thought against it. He dare not baby-sit two-legs whelps. Oh no! That would put a damp to his relaxation. Not that it didn't with the way Rhaenys bothered him.
She poked and prodded his scales every time she could either with her stubby fleshy paws, bother him with a stick (which is degrading to say the least), climb on him every time he slept and disturbing his beauty sleep and making him sleep with one eye open in worry that he might roll over and crush the whelp accidentally. She's also trying to climb to him every time he flew much to the shrilling noise her mother made which he silenced every time with a small puff of annoyed smoke. He had to admit though that she's a good rider, she never once screamed in fear but one of ecstasy as he took to the realms of the sky where none but his kind ruled supreme. At first he had been annoyed with the current disruption of his daily habits by this newfound squatters in his lair that he even considered squishing them flat, roasting them or simply roll them off to flap around free-falling to their demise. The dragon in him is completely okay with it, the human in him however is not. Human won in a landslide against the magical animal and so here he is playing doll with two-legs…ahem….Rhaenys.
If he had to admit to himself though, he's beginning to get used to this two-legs family, not only because dragons are possessive with anything they consider theirs (coug2x), but also because as much as it threw a wrench over his well-oiled lifestyle it at least alleviated his boredom. The dragon blood on Rhaenys and "Egg" (at least that name's easier to remember) thrummed with his, and as fierce as the winged beasts of legend may be, having whelps around tend to temper their rather more fierce attitudes. The two two-legs may not be dragon whelps but they're the closest he could get with the dragon blood flowing from their veins.
Rhaenys adores him and every possible time of her away from her mother is with him curled up on the hollow on his back asleep, and bothering him for every little triviality that sent her blood humming in a cadence similar to his as she's happy. As for Egg, the baby crawled at his direction every time his mother is not looking that amused him to no end as Elia is frightened around him despite living for six months already on his lair. Whenever she found the whelp curled in the middle of his claws, he would snort in amusement as the two-legs female tried to hide her nervousness on him, first time in fact she wetted herself that the human in him is rolling around in laughter while the dragon wanted nothing more than to squash her flat for urinating on his lair.
Still, he did not know what to do with the woman. The only reason he let the pretty and soft two-legs is the fact that she is the mother of the whelps that wormed their way to his heart, both draconian and human. Not to mention that the human mind in him enjoyed peeking every time she bathed (pervert cough2x), much to the indignation of his dragon part who lost the argument on that part of their decisions in life.
She's more trouble and thrice as annoying as her whelps combined. It had been a struggle to keep her calm and content in his lair. First day nearly costed her life as she tried to escape (dragging her children) only to be ambushed by those crazed foul-tasting-two-legs who seemed more animal than men. It was his intervention that saved her and her whelps and he had to dangle her upside down to get his point across that she does not do it again.
She's also against his habit of rolling around his prey (mostly two-leg screamers and their horses) which he collected every time he hunts to throw over the edge that amused him so much. She'd also began polishing his lair squeaky clean with sticks and began laying out piles of hay where she and her whelps slept on every night. She also began shrieking one day when he returned carrying more "prizes" to play with and he had to deposit the crying, screaming and begging two-legs he planned to roll around later or eat to one of the nearby rooms away from the whelps that finally shut her up.
He simply sighed in contentment as he let his head return to slumber mode as Rhaenys began rubbing the softer scales on his belly with a stick while giggling, her blood resonating once more with the thrumming of his.
This is his life, and despite having its ups and its downs both human and dragon parts had to admit that they're rather enjoying at the moment.
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Elia Martell would be lying if she admits that she's not scared. Who wouldn't be? She had been raped, she almost lost her children in front of her eyes, she's swallowed alive by a dragon, said dragon dumped her and her family here in the middle of Old Valyria and escaping is not an option due to the threat that the Stone men possessed; not to mention said dragon will be pissed enough to burn her and her children alive. She didn't even know how long it has been ever since she had been brought here from King's Landing.
Still, the more realistic part of her believed that despite all the fuck-ups on her life ever since she married that prat, Rhaegar, this event is not one of those.
Even if she returned to her homeland at Dorne, she can't be at peace there. The Dornish army is tired and weary after loss after loss against the armies of the rebels who probably won by now. Sure they would fight for her and they might be able to succeed against any invasion on the hot sands of her country, but too many would die. And as much loved and respected House Martell is, public opinion against them would be unfavorable once the mount of dead bodies started piling in.
Like all born in the noble families, Elia have heard stories about the Targaryen dragons that had died off, of course she didn't believe it and alluded it to legends and fantasies only. Seeing the insignia of the House which she married in rolling around and amusing her daughter to no end the first time almost made her faint.
Many thought that despite being sickly, Elia is useless. They couldn't be farther from the truth. Seeing that staying here would be on their best interests, she had tidied up the place as best as she could and managed to pilfer many of the more essential needs (which is clothing mostly) that she salvaged on the ruins of this tower that once belonged to the Freehold and make this place human habitable. Food is provided by the gold dragon and he had some inate intelligence that Elia did not miss as he roasted whatever it is he brought back, (minus his plaything humans (cough2x)). Thankfully raising the children isn't much of a chore and watching also over them. They stuck to the big golden beast like a wart and she had observed enough from him that he bears no ill will against her kids giving her time to focus on the more immediate demands on her attention. First time she worried so much that she grabbed Rhaenys and made a ran on the exit that earned her the dragon's displeasure.
Walking towards one of the stone rooms she tidied up, Elia sighed as she took the wash basin filled with heated water (It's so easy to heat stuff. All she needed to do is poke the dragon with Rhaenys' stick which he seemed not to tolerate with her as he sent puffs of heated fire through his nostrils hot enough for the water she brought).
Entering it she stared at the pale face of her old friend which she managed to pilfer from the dragon's mouth one day when he arrived hunting with half her leg chewed thankfully still intact despite the large wounds caused by the dragon's mouth. Elia had been scared to death when she saw the state of her right leg which infection is setting in and she had to smack the dragon to let the body go which he thankfully did with what seemed to be a confused expression as Elia dragged the body and wrap her wounded leg up and stitched it as best as she could with her hair and some needle that she had been to sanitize. Thankfully she had enough skill watching the Maester at Dorne work and managed to replicate his deed to save the leg and life of her childhood companion.
"Ashara, how are you my friend?" asked Elia smiling as she entered seeing the small smirk of reply from her best friend sweating on the bed.
"Good enough, can I get up now so that I can smack that overlarge lizard outside?"
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So that's chappie 3. Ive….checked other Dragon Harry stories. And lets just say my ego is taking a hit. How did they write something as beautiful as that. I almost stopped writing as I compared my work with theirs.
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Please Review, the more your opinions are, the better. I had no direction on this story yet. hihihi