AC 110

The throne room buzzed with hushed murmurs as Daemon Targaryen strode in, his presence commanding the attention of every eye in the chamber. The court hadn't seen him in some time, and his return was enough to set the air on edge. By his side walked a young boy, dressed in striking colors that made him stand out against the dull grays and blacks favored in court.

Rhaenyra's eyes fell on the boy immediately, her gaze lingering as the conversation between her father and Daemon faded into the background. He was about her age, perhaps a bit younger, but what truly held her focus was his appearance. His hair—blue, an unnatural shade for anyone in Westeros—shimmered under the soft light of the hall. His eyes, the same striking color, glinted like sapphires. Who is he? she wondered, her curiosity swelling.

The boy's clothes were even stranger—exquisite, finely made. His bright red cape flowed behind him with every step, standing in stark contrast to the deep blues of the outfit underneath. It was unlike anything she had seen in court, so vivid and daring that it nearly made her blink. For a moment, she thought he might have been a foreigner from some distant, exotic land, but there was something about him that felt familiar. She couldn't place it, but she found herself drawn to him.

Around her, the court buzzed, but Rhaenyra's focus remained on the boy. Daemon led him closer to the throne, his usual swagger as unyielding as ever. Though she admired her uncle, today her thoughts were consumed by this boy.

The conversation between Viserys and Daemon was lost to her, she was vaguely aware that the duo were discussing Daemon's place as Commander of the City Watch. Apparently, her Uncle wanted to run an operation to root out some violent criminals, to help make the city safer during this tournament. It was odd for her uncle to even ask, Daemon was the definition of 'I'd rather ask forgiveness than permission, but he had.

Typically, she'd be captivated by his actions, but Rhaenyra couldn't keep her eyes off the blue haried boy. That was until a single word pulled her attention sharply back.
"Son," Daemon said, but it didn't stop there. 'This is Rhaegor."

The room fell silent at the sound of the word, echoing through the hall like a bell. Rhaenyra blinked, her heart skipping. "Son?"

"She'd gained a cousin?" Rhaenyra wasn't sure when that happened.

Her father's voice, usually steady, wavered with confusion. "I wasn't aware that your wife had given you a son, brother."

Daemon smiled, a knowing, almost smug smile, as if he had been waiting for that exact question. "She didn't," he said smoothly. His words were simple, but the meaning hung heavy in the air. Whispers rippled through the court like a wave as people began to realize the implication. A bastard.
Rhaenyra's mind whirled. This boy, this stranger with blue hair and eyes to match—Daemon's son? Her gaze flickered back to the boy. His expression remained neutral, but the way he stood so confidently at her uncle's side made her wonder. "How could someone so... different be part of our family?"

The bright red and blue of his clothes seemed even more glaring now, like a challenge thrown into the heart of the court. Daemon wasn't hiding him—he was flaunting him. Rhaenyra looked to her father, searching his face for some sign of how he would react. But her attention kept drifting back to Rhaegor, as if something deeper than curiosity pulled her toward him.
It reminded her of the first time she'd seen Syrax, her dragon. Like Rhaegor was some great beast, capable of as much terror as it was cute behavior. People outside her family wouldn't understand what it's like to be with Dragons, they were dangerous creatures for sure. But Rheanyra found they were capable of cuteness too. Rhaegor felt the inverse of that, that was what Rheanyra felt looking at him at least.

"I see... " Her father replied, holding back one of the largest sighs of the world at Daemon's shameless behavior. "I welcome you, Nephew. Everyone else, leave us, I want to have a word alone with my brother."

Rhaenyra followed out, keeping a close eye on the young Rhaegor. He walked off to be around a few followers of his father, while Rhaenyra felt the Kingsguard follow after her. She greeted him with a curtsy and a smile;

"Greetings, Rhaegor," Rhaenyra said, offering him a polite curtsy. It was more formal than she would have liked, but etiquette dictated that she treat him with a degree of distance. He was Daemon's son, her cousin, but as a bastard there was a degree of separation between them. At least in public. Rhaegar met her gaze, his bright blue eyes catching the light like gemstones.

"Princess," he replied, his tone soft and respectful. He gave a slight nod in return, but his expression remained neutral.

Rhaenyra's gaze lingered on him, curiosity filling her thoughts"We're cousins, then," she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I didn't know Uncle had a son. Where has he been hiding you all this time?"

Rhaegor blinked, as if confused by her tone. "Dragonstone," he answered plainly.

Rhaenyra tilted her head slightly, amused by his straightforwardness. She had been expecting a jest, or at least a hint of banter, but his serious demeanor caught her off guard. "Dragonstone? You mean he's kept you there, training with swords and dragons?"

"Yes," Rhaegor said, his voice calm, as if the answer were obvious. "Training."

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Is that all you do on Dragonstone? Train with swords?"

Rhaegor hesitated for a moment, then shook his head slightly. "And learning Valyrian."

She chuckled more at his answer's unexpected simplicity than anything else. Rhaenyra expected he learned much more than those two things, but he looked so nervous she wouldn't be surprised if his mind emptied everything else. "Learning Valyrian too? You're certainly well-occupied. Most boys your age would be envious of that education."

Rhaegor nodded, his face still devoid of any hint of humor or jest. "Father said it was important."

Rhaenyra smiled, her amusement growing. "Yes, Uncle Daemon is always keen on making sure everyone stays sharp, isn't he?" Her tone softened, a teasing lilt to her voice, but Rhaegor didn't respond as she expected.

He remained serious, watching her carefully as if trying to gauge her meaning. There was an intensity to him, focused, maybe even guarded. "Is it wrong to be serious?" he asked after a pause, his question genuine.

Rhaenyra laughed, the sound bright in the otherwise heavy air. "No, no, not at all. It's just... refreshing. I'm used to people here in court saying one thing and meaning another. But you—you speak plainly. Honestly."

Rhaegor blinked again as if he didn't quite understand why that would be unusual. "I say what I mean," he confirmed simply.

Rhaenyra's grin widened. "I can see that." She stepped a little closer, her interest in him deepening. A dangerous thought came to her, and she decided to ask, in whispered Valyrian; "Vezof jin azantys ñuha?"


Rhaenyra had felt the anticipation growing all morning. She had promised Rhaegor she would show him Syrax, but she hadn't expected to feel this sense of unease. Syrax was a part of her, ever since she was seven years old when the dragon was barely tall enough to reach her waist. The bond they shared was something she had always thought unshakable, but today was different.

The air in the Dragonpit was thick with the musky scent of dragon and age. Syrax stood in the shadows, her golden scales shimmering even in the dim light. Her wings, folded neatly at her sides, were now far too large to allow anyone but Rhaenyra herself to ride her. And while the young princess knew Syrax was loyal only to her, something about the way her dragon growled low in her throat unsettled her.

"Perhaps this is not a good time," Ser Harrold Westerling, her sworn-shield and member of the Kingsguard, began, turning to Rhaenyra With a slight frown. The dragonkeepers, standing nearby in their traditional Valyrian armor, had the same wary expressions. One of them leaned in, whispering something about Syrax being in an ill mood. Rhaenyra had heard it before, dragons sensed things, they reacted to shifts in the world that mere men could not perceive. It was not uncommon for Syrax to grow restless before a storm or a change in the wind. But this was different. Syrax was fixated on Rhaegor.

Her eyes stared in the way Rhaenyra had never experienced before, as if she was sizing up Rhaegor.

"She's never acted this way before," Rhaenyra murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Even amongst the worst moods, Syrax had never paced like this, never seemed so ready to hunt. It was bad enough that she was about to suggest they leave when Syrax let out a hiss. The dragon's eyes never left on Rhaegor. The dragonkeepers flinched, tightening their grip on their spears as the dragon roared, it was a sound that Rhaenyra had heard before from her dragon, but this time deeper and more threatening than anything she'd heard before. More akin to some of the wild dragons left riderless on Dragonstone. Rhaenyra's heart quickened.

"Rhaegor, we should—" Before she could finish her sentence, Syrax surged forward, her long, muscular body moving with startling speed.

The dragonkeepers scattered as the golden beast barreled through them, ignoring their cries of alarm. Rhaenyra gasped, her hand instinctively reaching out, though she knew she had no real control over what was happening.

While Syrax's rider, Rhaenyra had never needed to restrain the dragon, couldn't have even conceived trying it given their size differences.

*"Princess, step back! I'll—" Ser Harrold, dragged her back from the scene and turned her away from the scene. No doubt trying to shield Rhaenyra from the sight of her cousin's death. But soon let go of the Princess. "-Wait, she's... she's not attacking."

Syrax didn't attack. She didn't lash out with her claws or bare her teeth. Instead, she came to a sudden stop directly in front of Rhaegor, lowering her massive head to his level. Rhaenyra could barely believe what she was seeing. The dragon, her dragon, stood perfectly still, her large golden eyes studying Rhaegor with an intensity that made Rhaenyra feel like she was intruding on something private, something ancient.

This must've contaminated the rest of the people in attendance because none of the dragonkeepers moved to intercede now that Syrax was in Rhaegor's face.

For a long moment, neither Rhaegor nor Syrax moved. It was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them in a silent communion. Then, to Rhaenyra's astonishment, Syrax made a sound she had never heard from her before—a soft chortle, almost like a laugh. The dragon puffed a gust of warm air into Rhaegor's face, an action that oddly caused Rhaegor to respond in blinked, speechless. She had never seen anyone act like this with a dragon, the keepers would've lost their head trying that and her fellow riders would've acted with too much dignity to even try on their own dragons. Rhaeynyra also expected to lose her head if she tried with any dragon not Syrax. Syrax turned to the dragonkeepers and made a snapping hiss that signaled them to feed the creature.

They reacted in shock, bewildered by the sight before them. Still, wanting the dragon to behave in the light of the already strange behavior, they became acquainted with the demand. What happened next shocked them more than anything so far. Syrax picked up the meat cuts and dropped them in front of Rhaegor.

"Gods, she's offering him food," one of the dragonkeepers whispered in awe as Syrax picked up the meat cut from earlier and dropped it in front of Rhaegor. "Dragons only do that with their young."

This caused Rhaegor to finally glance around the area, not sure what to do with the prize presented to him by Syrax. He looked to Rhaenyra who could do nothing but hold hand to her mouth to stop herself from gaping at this sight. Syrax grew a little impatient with the young man and butted her snout into his back. Eventually, Rhaegor drew his red cape in front of him and picked up the raw meat stripes with a smile to the dragon before walking off with the prize.

Rhaenyra thought that was best, she'd almost been worried that Syrax would force her Cousin to eat the raw meat. She was pretty sure that humans couldn't consume raw meat.

What was it about Rhaegor that made the dragon so... curious?

Rhaenyra pondered what would've happened if one of the male dragons had met Rhaegor instead. This was a very maternal reaction from Syrax after all, did her Uncle's dragon, Caraxes's male. Known as a ferocious fighter even. Rhaegor had mentioned before he'd yet to be close to a dragon before this. Caraxes's reaction would've been very different, but given how unusual Syrax's reaction was to her Cousin, it was possible that Caraxes would've been as strange for that dragon.

The dragonkeepers exchanged bewildered glances, clearly as stunned as she was. One of them approached cautiously, bringing Syrax back into her resting area. She could overhear them talk between each other as Syrax quietly went to rest, ""That... it shouldn't have been possible. No one, not even a Targaryen, can command a dragon like that."

Rhaenyra quickly quashed any desire to fly for the day, her cousin was much too interested right now for her to focus on flight.

"She likes you," Rhaenyra finally whispered, though the words felt inadequate for what she had just witnessed.

Rhaegor remained still, his eyes wide, but there was no fear in his expression. But there were tears, tears of joy she suspected, but they might have also been those caused by the meat's fumes. Still, there was something painful in the expression, something that a bad oder wouldn't have caused her cousin.

"Are you alright?" She asked him, her concern growing as she escorted him back towards the Redkeep, where he would be quartered by request of her father, and probably Daemon himself.

"I don't think I've been better my entire life," Rhaegor said, throwing the meat into the back of a cart as he removed his red cape as well. He folded it before a servant took it from him. "That was... that was so... so..."

Rhaenyra couldn't disagree with him, it was indescribable as an event. You'd need to recount the entire thing to explain the emotional journey they had all grown through. Even then, that left all the questions she had, ones that she knew Rhaegor would have no answer to.

After all, Rhaegor wouldn't have known any better, this was his first time meeting a dragon.


Author's Note: There's something to be said about a story that never reveals the POV of select characters. Rhaegor/Ryu here is such a character.

I wanted to get the dragon meeting out of the way as quickly as possible. So here it is. Not actually written alongside the first half here, rather I had the next chapter completed before I wrote that. This means I'll time to edit in a little bit to keep canonicity between this and the next chapter.

Otherwise, it's strange that this went unremarked.