Rhaenyra was fully aware of exactly how lucky she was - one had to think about her aunt and uncle across the Narrow Sea to understand how harsh the circumstances of her life could've been, if she had not already perished by the time Robert Baratheon had been crowned King or the Lannisters had sacked the city.
She was never one to put too much stock in her grandfather's paranoia - but he had been right about one thing: they were out to get him. Mayhaps it was due to his madness or even worse, because they did not like the fact that the Valyrian dynasty had prevailed, but the truth remained the same: Arryn had fostered the heir to the Stormlands and the second son of the Starks, Robert was to wed Lyanna while Brandon was to marry the first born child of Hoster Tully while Lysa would wed Elbert. Three Great Houses joined as such had never happened in time of peace, which meant that Rhaegar had been remiss in his duties and instead of running off with a girl that had barely bled, he should have worked on getting rid of his blasted father.
She also knew that her uncles indulged her far more than they should: had she really been her mortal age and not a reincarnation with the memories of an abused war hero, she would've ended up spoiled and willful which is a dangerous combination when you're entire existence depends on your ability to keep a secret. It was not even her own life that was at stake, but the future of House Martell and of Dorne. Other men would have admonished her for her dreams and might have even called her mad because of her dreams (which would actually fair once you knew her family history), but they had instead taken a leap of faith for her and they were all better for it.
They could have told the truth to the Starks, but why would they believe them if they told them they were about to find dragons in some backward island that even purebred Northerners were afraid of. She could hardly think of any believable tale she could spin, but her princely uncle thought a hunt to get acclimated to the North while she would spend the time foraging for potion ingredients to be sufficient enough. After all, they were four daughters leaving with their fathers - and it was not like they could not protect themselves if the worst came to happen.
The only issue was her staunch decision to take Jon with her: her sisters did not trust him, her father did not trust him and the Starks did not trust them with him. She had expected to beg him to accompany them but he had seemed eager enough to get to know her.
Rhaenyra had been delighted to see some faint traces of jealousy marring Robb's face and would have soothed his possessiveness by explaining they were siblings - but their family history greatly proved that it was not an efficient excuse. The fact that her ancestors had the same parents and decided to later wed each other made her shudder each time she thought about it; and she would swear up and down that the madness they had been plagued with was due to their inbreeding. Jaehaerys and Alysanne had so many children they could have married each of them into important houses, then arranging matches between cousins if they needed magical blood to ride dragons.
Besides, the young princess was sure that there was more to the story of the extermination of their house sigil than a mere war: their growth had been stunted ever since the Dragonpit had been created and the dragons chained - at the end, only bringing forth sickly creatures barely bigger than cats.
As soon as they left Winterfell and started riding towards the Kingsroad, the girls started sharing mischievous glances between them. There was no doubt in her mind that Jon was akin to a blushing maiden in their eyes and would need all her help to escape their attention towards him; especially if he feared retribution from her beloved uncle.
"I thank you for putting your trust in me and accompanying us," she told him in order to break the ice.
He seemed lost in his thoughts - he brooded so much that she could not help but compare the scrunch of his nose or his pout to their deceased father. As much as she tried to hide it, her hatred was still blazing within her but she would not let him mess up her relationship with her sibling beyond the grave. It was her own personal fuck you to the man who had managed to wreck the realm in a way no other monarch had ever done before: obsessing about a possible future and completely forgetting about the consequences of his actions.
And for what? Did they think the rest of the Seven Kingdoms would just accept a second wife? What would he have done had they refused? Burn them? Cut their tongues? Make them disappear until they bend to his whims?
If she was sure of one thing, it was that Oberyn would have found a way to get rid of Rhaegar and put forth a regency under her twin brother's name, leaving the she-wolf without any support at court where she would be seen as another Tyanna of the Tower - a seductress and a witch, or even another Barba Bracken: reaching too high for her station and eager to become the King's bride while his wife lay on the birthing bed.
Rhaenyra could not help but notice how flustered her brother was. He squirmed under her inquisitive look before finally confessing. "I was with Robb and we heard what you were planning to do," he told her, looking guilty.
She held back a snort but her amusement was displayed on her face. Oh, the Starks, honorable fools. If not for her intervention, they would've been almost all dead within less than five years - it would be heartbreaking that a family that had prevailed for eight thousand years would be decimated because of the so called Game of Thrones.
"Good then," she said, appreciating his honesty first and foremost. "Don't trust people, especially Southerners. They always have an agenda and it's rarely ever good," explained the princess.
After two hours of riding, Rhaenyra dismounted from her horse and made sure to secure him against a tree. She did not need to explain to the Sand Snakes or to Oberyn what they were about to do: they had been forced to apparate at least a dozen times with her ever since she told them the truth about her powers. They did not appreciate it since it made them feel ill afterwards, but they could not deny it was an effective means of transport when they were pressed for time. She might have never been to Skagos before, but she had dreamt enough about where the last living dragons dwelled to viziluate it and find herself there.
"I'll stay here," informed them Tyene. Unlike them, she was mostly interested in finding poisonous plants - rare in the Seven Kingdoms; and very few would think Northerners would be prone to get rid of their enemies this way.
She was putting a lot of faith in her half-brother, but it was the ultimate test in her eyes. "Do you trust me?," she asked him, looking at him in his dark eyes. Each time she stared at him, she was reminded of how lucky he was that he had not gotten the significant Valyrian features from his paternal side of the family or he might have found himself dead just the same after Robert found out about him. In her memories, he had never found out and had died proclaiming his brother heir to the Iron Throne, paving the way for the War of the Five Kings which would be vastly different this time around with her presence and interference.
"No yet," he gulped, feeling intimidated by her intense gaze. "But I can try."
His words and sincerity warmed her heart and she found herself smiling at him. "Hold my arms and under any circumstances, do not let go."
In her former world, it would have been nay impossible to apparate with four people on her arms - but magic in Westeros was wilder and stronger than she had ever seen. After her first few years, she had noticed that something was leeching magic out of people - as if the planet they were living in needed to survive. It had been disconcerting for a few years, but with her continued presence around the Martells and the Sand Snakes, she had noticed the effects had lessened on them. She could feel the same concentration of magic on Jon, even though it was stronger due to his King's blood. His lineage could not be discarded: if she ever managed to teach him, it would be a boon for their future and the safety of House Stark.
As Obara, Nymeria, Jon and her uncle held onto her, she focused on her dreams that had pinpointed the locations of the dragons. It had been after many moons of research that she had understood that they were in some island in the North, and after using a lot of maps and blood magic, she had been able to find out it was actually Skagos. She knew she could be the Old Tongue - but there were many rumors about the inhabitants and she was not keen on finding out the truth. There was no reason for her to take a long and dangerous trip when she could just as easily use her magic.
She felt the distinct sensation of being pressed into some sort of narrow tunnel while her navel was hooked - she focused on making her travel companions were safe and sound before they were propelled through space. Before she had the time to think things through, they found themselves in a dark and dreary environment, mountains and hostile habitat around them. As she was looking around her to find her way, she heard the sound of retching and looked at Jon, who was confused between fear (of her) and complete awe (of her).
"Oh, I forgot to mention my magic...," she acted as innocent as possible with her purple doe eyes. "I knew there was something I needed to mention."
Her half-brother looked ready to throttle her before they heard a booming roar not far from them. Obara, the eldest one of them - the bravest and strongest looked weary for the first time. Her uncle tried to calm her, but it was clear he regretted coming here in the first place; but she was not overly worried about them: they all had costum made portkeys to take them to safety if push came to shove.
Meanwhile, Rhaenyra could not stop her excitement from showing on her face. She knew they were here and they had been waiting for them for more than a century - it would be very bad form to make them wait any longer for the sake of suspense.
Without waiting for her family, she walked - as if dazed - towards a dark mountain. It took her a few seconds to understand it was no work of nature: as soon as she saw the scales, she understood. She unsheathed her Valyrian Steel dagger with a dragon bone handle (oh, how she had enjoyed stealing her own family heirloom from the Lannisters and Baratheons while they were acting like pompous fools) and cut her palm open.
"What the hell are you doing ?," asked Jon, his dark eyes pinned on her - worried for her or her mental stability, she would not know.
Rhaenyra did not wait to be schooled on her actions by Oberyn and him, instead, she put her bloody palm on the scales and rubbed them in while hissing in Parseltongue as softly as she could. The ground started rumbling under them while trees and rocks cracked and bent and broke around them. She saw her sisters holding onto each other and their father while Jon made sure not to let go of her. She turned around to explain her actions after a few seconds - she did not expect to see the wildfire green eyes of the Cannibal gazing at her from behind her family.
"Do not turn around," she gritted out behind her teeth, aware that if they spooked him too much, they would turn into some very appetizing barbecue for the majestic dragon. "Ao emagon issare waiting syt issa syt nykeā bōsa jēda, haven't ao?" (You have been waiting for me for a long time, haven't you?)
Behind her, she heard a loud crash and she knew it was Sheepstealer who had come to protect his best friend. The situation was dire, but she was not about to lose faith. Instead of speaking Valyrian, she wanted to test a theory: after all, they were just huge fire breathing reptiles, right? There was some way they could understand her if she was hissing?
"Just like you, my whole species is dead aside from my youngest brother. Would you let me be yours as you could be mine?," she asked while walking towards the black dragon as confidently as she could. As she got closer, she touched his snout and watched him close his eyes in contemplation.
Cannibal had never had a rider, but no one knew exactly why he had rejected them all nor why he had been prone to killing his own progeny and species. "Mine? Yesssss, mine," he rumbled slowly while opening his eyes and focusing on hers, pushing the connection as hard as he could, afraid she would change her mind. She winced under the intrusion of her mental barriers, but as he laid down his wings so she could mount him, she could not help but giggle in anticipation.
Aware that Oberyn would never let her go forward if he knew what she was about to do, she climbed as fast she could and sat on the dragon's spine, feeling the heated looks of her family behind her. "Cannibal, soves !," she shouted at the top of her lungs while they took flight: the first dragon and dragonrider Planetos had ever seen in more than 200 years.