Under his stare, her breath hitched and her form involuntarily stiffened...
Setting aside her qualms, Laena had always admired this man ever since his time as the bastard child with a mind of wood, winds, and whimsy.
His toys had practically made up most of her childhood. Serving as an escape from all the forced reading and training to become some proper lady of the realm.
The same sentiment should be shared for those that are in the same age or around the same age as her. Her brother included.
And Laena can even admit to herself that such an admiration blossomed into infatuation as soon as she saw his bronze-clad form. Finally placing a handsome face to all the stories.
It so happened to be after he had somewhat recently just squashed a rebellion and having just been knighted into the moniker of the Young Bronze.
Alas, Rhaenyra had largely occupied his pioneering stay in King's Landing back then…and Laena hadn't had the chance to get to know him better.
Even more unfortunate was the fact that their paths only diverged further and further since.
The Cleansing of the Mountains and the Healing of the Hills... his unprecedented sailing of Northern Essos that earned him his title as the famous Bold Bronze.
And then came his equally impressive return that made him a dragon slayer... a one-man army... and a Deep One that commanded a Kraken.
Earning him other titles like the Bloody Bronze, Bloodsoaked Bronze, Brutal Bronze, and the Bronze of the Deep.
Some of those achievements were at the expense of her father's reputation and prestige. A low point that the Sea Snake has yet to rise back from.
Brought about by a sweeping tide that no one could Lord over.
This is who Ronan Royce is.
A figure whose moves shook Westeros and Essos alike!
And to think that he was actually here... just right ahead... watching and judging...
Scrutinizing her very being... at a point when she could barely contain herself... at the very presence of him!
------------
Honestly, Ronan just wanted to ask "what's up?"
Even when he already had a general gist of what happened from the dead Velaryon men that littered about... and the guilty way those Braavosi bolted out of the vicinity...
It was still better to hear people give their firsthand account of the whole thing, especially when said people is a distant cousin in very misfortunate circumstances.
Even more so when he's literally just swiped the greatest opportunity she should have had.
It just had to be done... the Velaryons being allowed to own dragons is problematic... just as how problematic it is for Viserys to also allow the Royces such a privilege without much thought.
Ronan had to consider the consequences further down the line... and nabbing Vhagar seems like some step in the right direction.
In any case, consoling the poor lass seemed the proper thing to do... and it shall be done.
Granted... in spite of all those considerate thoughts he had in mind... it might as well have been unnecessary.
For as soon as he dropped off of his dragon to personally get close and formally listen to the damsel's distress...
He noticed that Laena was acting very differently than he'd assumed she would... and he didn't know what to make of it.
For starters, she didn't look that troubled.
And when the conversation flowed, she seemed composed enough to accept what happened for what it is.
Going as far as explaining some context about the Sealord being too eager for dragons and whatnot.
Some kind of arranged marriage drama... with hints of Braavos wanting to be a part of a draconic arms race that they genuinely had no chance at.
White noise was how Ronan considered that development... as his attention was more piqued towards the dragon rider fan whose fanaticism, for some reason, was unexpectedly locked on to him.
And out of curiosity for that intriguing shift, he obliged the fan girl.
A fan service of sorts.
Answering her questions and all that jazz that idols and stars do… for good fun.
Alas, he may have indulged in their one-on-one talk a bit too much...
For at some point, he saw a sudden shuffling in Laena's form...
Like those determined eyes... with a hint of infatuation...
That tensed form, as if ready to pounce...
And then those lips, puckered up... aiming for a specific target.
A combination that gave him a smidge of deja vu.
And before he could even exactly pinpoint where the sense of familiarity came from... Laena had already dashed forward…
With kissing intent!
Of course, with his palm stopping her very forward smooch in place.
Which was when the realization sunk in... and all that Ronan could ruefully mutter in his mind was...
Oh shit...
Here we go again...