The sun had barely risen over the rooftops of King's Landing when Rhaenyra Targaryen slipped through the familiar secret passages that led her to Robert Stronghammer's hideout. Her heart raced, not just from the thrill of their secret meetings but from the weight of the message she bore. Robert's last letter had filled her with a mix of admiration and dread, and she needed to confront him before he took a path she feared he could not return from.
As she entered the dimly lit room, the scent of smoke and wood surrounded her, familiar and comforting yet charged with a palpable tension. Robert stood with his back to her, staring out the window, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the soft glow of dawn. He turned at the sound of her arrival, and the warmth in his eyes ignited something deep within her.
"Rhaenyra," he breathed, a smile breaking across his face. But before he could take a step toward her, she raised a hand to stop him.
"Robert, we need to talk," she said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions raging within her. "I received your letter."
His expression shifted, concern clouding his features. "You shouldn't have come here. It's too dangerous."
"I came because I'm worried about you," she replied, her voice firm. "You cannot be serious about this quest to claim a dragon. It's madness!"
Robert crossed the room, closing the distance between them. "Rhaenyra, I have to do this. I believe I can claim a dragon, and you don't know what it feels like to have something so vital driving you. I can't stand by any longer and let my past define me. This is my chance!"
Rhaenyra's heart ached at his determination, yet she felt a swell of fear grip her. "And what if you fail? What if you don't come back? The Targaryens have been known to breathe fire and death. You could be killed!"
He stepped closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I promise you, Rhaenyra, I will come back. I've already purchased a bed on a ship bound for Dragonstone. I'm going to find a dragon, and when I do, I will come back for you."
The sincerity in his eyes pierced through her fear, igniting a flicker of hope. "But you don't have to do this alone. We could think of another way. You don't need to put yourself in such danger for me."
"It's not just for you; it's for us," Robert insisted. "For our future. Imagine it—a dragon at our side. No one would dare stand in our way. I could be more than a knight. I could be someone of significance."
Rhaenyra hesitated, grappling with the enormity of what he was proposing. "And what if I don't want to be part of this? What if you don't return?" The weight of her words hung heavy in the air.
In a moment of vulnerability, Robert reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. "Then let me leave you with something to remember me by."
The world around them faded, and Rhaenyra felt her defenses crumble. There was a fire in his eyes, a promise that pulled her in. With a mixture of fear and yearning, she leaned into his touch. "You'd better come back, Stronghammer."
"I will," he vowed, his voice a low rumble. "I swear it."
Without another word, he closed the gap between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that spoke of longing, desperation, and hope. Rhaenyra melted against him, the warmth of his body igniting a flame inside her that spread through her entire being.
Time seemed to suspend as they sank deeper into one another, the weight of the world outside forgotten. As their kisses grew more fervent, Rhaenyra felt herself surrendering to the moment. She had never felt so alive, so desired. It was a fleeting but powerful connection, one that transcended their positions in the world—a promise that neither of them would forget.
Robert's hands roamed her back, drawing her closer as if he could shield her from the looming uncertainties. She could taste the resolve in his kiss, mingled with the urgency of their shared secrets. The walls of the hideout faded away, and all that existed was the two of them, united in their dreams and fears.
As their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace, Rhaenyra lost herself in Robert's warmth, the fire in her heart melding with the flames of his ambition. In that moment, she made her own silent vow: she would wait for him, no matter the cost. Their love was forged in the fires of ambition, and she believed—no, she had to believe—that it could withstand the trials ahead.
When at last they pulled away, both breathless and dazed, Robert held her gaze. "I will come back for you, Rhaenyra. I promise."
Rhaenyra nodded, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope and fear. "You better keep that promise, Robert. Because when you return, I want you to come back not just as a man, but as a dragonlord."
With one last lingering kiss, she slipped from his arms, knowing the journey ahead would be fraught with danger. But she also knew that love, like fire, could be both a source of warmth and a fierce force capable of forging legends.
As she made her way back through the secret tunnels, Rhaenyra's heart beat with determination. She would hold on to the hope that Robert Stronghammer would not only claim a dragon but also return to claim her.
As the ship rocked gently on the calm waves, Robert Stronghammer stood at the railing, gazing out at the horizon where the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the waters. The air was crisp, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the promise of adventure. Yet, despite the tranquil setting, turmoil swirled within him.
He had secured his passage to Dragonstone through a clever ruse, claiming friendship with Prince Daemon Targaryen, the lord of the island. No one would suspect foul play when Sir Robert Stronghammer, a knight of good repute, sought out his old friend. This clever maneuver had granted him the anonymity he needed, but beneath the surface of his confidence lay a cauldron of fears and doubts. What if he failed? What if claiming a dragon proved to be more than mere folly?
As the ship sailed smoothly, Robert watched sailors bustling about, loading and unloading goods bound for White Harbor. They shouted greetings and laughter, their camaraderie infectious. He envied them—their carefree spirits and the bonds they shared. Each man aboard was part of a brotherhood formed by the sea, a stark contrast to the isolation he often felt.
Despite the chatter around him, Robert's thoughts remained anchored to Rhaenyra. Her face haunted him, her fierce spirit igniting a flame in his heart that refused to be extinguished. He thought of her words, her plea for him to return safely. He was determined not to let her down. Their moment together had sparked something within him—a resolve to make himself worthy of her love and respect.
"Ser Robert!" A voice broke through his reverie. It was one of the sailors, a burly man with a bushy beard, approaching him with a tankard of ale in hand. "Care for a drink, ser? It's a fine day to be at sea!"
Robert accepted the tankard, grateful for the distraction. "Thank you, friend. I'll drink to that," he replied, taking a swig of the strong ale. It warmed his insides, momentarily easing the tension in his chest.
"Heading to Dragonstone, are you?" the sailor asked, leaning against the railing, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You a friend of the prince?"
"Something like that," Robert replied, careful not to reveal too much. "Old friends, from days long past."
"Ah, I see!" the sailor chuckled, slapping Robert on the back. "He's quite the character, that one. Always in the thick of things. You best watch your back, though; Dragonstone isn't what it used to be. Tales of dragons and strange happenings abound."
Robert nodded, a knot tightening in his stomach. "I've heard the stories. But I'm not afraid of tales."
The sailor raised an eyebrow, amused. "Brave words, my lord. Just remember, dragons are more than just legends. If you're seeking one, you'd best be prepared for the fire that comes with it."
A silence fell between them, the weight of the sailor's words settling in Robert's mind. He took another sip of ale, trying to push down the rising apprehension. The last thing he wanted was to appear cowardly, especially not in front of himself.
The ship continued its steady course, the gentle waves lapping against the hull. Robert leaned against the railing, staring at the endless expanse of water ahead. The calm surface of the sea belied the storm brewing in his heart—a mix of excitement and fear. He was on the cusp of something monumental, a journey that could change his life forever.
The sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple. As the darkness crept in, he could see the faint outline of Dragonstone in the distance. His heartbeat quickened at the sight, and he couldn't help but think of the dragons that once roamed the skies, their powerful wings casting shadows over the land. Would he be worthy enough to claim one? The thought both thrilled and terrified him.
As the ship drew closer, Robert felt a swell of determination rise within him. He had come too far to turn back now. He would face whatever challenges awaited him on Dragonstone, whether it be dragons or the judgment of his own fears. For Rhaenyra, he would endure it all. The promise he made to her fueled his resolve, and he silently vowed that he would return to her side, not just as a man, but as a dragonlord.
As they finally docked at Dragonstone, Robert took a deep breath, steeling himself for the unknown. The island loomed before him, a place steeped in history and magic, where dragons once soared above the skies. He stepped off the ship, his heart pounding, ready to embrace whatever fate awaited him.
As Robert stepped onto the shores of Dragonstone, he felt the weight of the island's history pressing against him. The air was thick with the scent of salt and sulfur, a reminder of the volcanic origins that shaped this land. Jagged cliffs rose majestically around him, and the distant rumble of the earth felt like a heartbeat—a pulse of something ancient and powerful.
Despite his reputation as Sir Robert Stronghammer, the bastion of honor and bravery, he found himself at a loss. The island was a maze of rocky paths and hidden trails, and though he had heard tales of dragons, he had no clear direction to find them. In his mind, he recalled snippets from history lessons, tales of ancient Targaryens and their dominion over these beasts. Dragons were creatures of fire and flight, and Robert was determined to face them.
"I'm just exploring the Seven Kingdoms," he told a small group of settlers he encountered along the rocky path. They were humble folk, their faces lined with worry, eyes darting to the horizon as if expecting a dragon to descend at any moment.
"Best to stay away from the north, my lord," one of the older men warned, his voice trembling slightly. "The dragons have claimed that land for their own. They come down from the peaks, stealing livestock, even taking men. You'd best heed our advice."
Robert forced a smile, though inside, his resolve solidified. "Thank you for the warning, I don't seek the dragons. I wish to explore more lands." His heart raced at the thought, an exhilarating mix of fear and excitement.
As he walked away, their whispers followed him, a mix of skepticism and caution. But Robert brushed off their concerns, focusing instead on the towering volcanoes that loomed in the distance. He felt drawn to them, an instinct urging him forward. Each step was fueled by the thought of Rhaenyra, her fiery spirit igniting a flame within him, compelling him to forge his own destiny.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the landscape as Robert navigated the narrow paths leading north. The ground beneath him trembled occasionally, a reminder of the island's volatile nature. His mind wandered to tales of the dragons—how they were once the pride of House Targaryen, their power unmatched.
He recalled stories of how dragons chose their riders, how they could sense strength and determination. Robert felt a surge of confidence. He was a man of worth, a knight who had fought for honor and love. If anyone could tame a dragon, it would be him.
After hours of hiking, he finally reached the base of the first volcano, the air thick with heat and the smell of lava. The ascent was treacherous, the rocky terrain crumbling underfoot. He climbed steadily, his heart pounding with anticipation. Would he truly find a dragon here?
As he reached the summit, a breathtaking sight greeted him—a large caldera, bubbling with molten lava, surrounded by rocky ledges. The heat radiated from the opening, and Robert's pulse quickened as he realized he was standing on sacred ground. He had heard that dragons roosted in such places, where the earth's fire met the sky.
He stepped closer, the heat growing more intense. The edge of the caldera was lined with jagged rocks, and he could see remnants of charred bones scattered around. This was a place of power, and if there were dragons nearby, they would be drawn to this energy.
"Come on," he whispered to himself, pushing aside any lingering fear. "Show yourself."
The wind howled around him, swirling ash and heat. Robert steadied his breath, focusing on the primal energy pulsing beneath him. He called out, not just with words but with intention. "I seek a bond with you, great dragon! I am Robert Stronghammer, and I wish to ride with you!"
Silence enveloped him, the kind that felt alive with possibility. Just as doubt began to creep in, he heard a low rumble echo through the caldera, shaking the ground beneath his feet. The air shimmered with heat, and a shadow passed over him—a massive silhouette swooping down from above.
Robert looked up, his breath catching in his throat. A dragon descended from the clouds, its scales glinting like molten gold against the fading sun. Its wings spread wide, casting a shadow that enveloped him in darkness. The creature landed with a thundering roar, its eyes locking onto Robert with an intensity that made his heart race.
He stood frozen, feeling the weight of the moment, the very essence of destiny unfolding before him. He had found the dragon.
Author's Note:
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