89 AC, The Red Keep
The silence of the godswood, broken only by the rustling of the blood-red weirwood leaves, was shattered in an instant. From the direction of the castle, along the stone-paved paths, came the measured sound of footsteps on gravel and the faint clank of armor. Viserra and Rhaenys, seated upon the massive roots of the ancient tree, turned simultaneously toward the sound.
From behind the thick thickets appeared Corlys Velaryon. He walked with the gait of a man supremely confident in himself. Beside him, stepping with almost silent power, moved Ares - a massive black panther whose fur, in the shadows of the trees, seemed woven from the very fabric of the night. A few paces behind followed Ser Addam, a loyal guardsman of House Velaryon. His hand rested habitually and loosely upon the pommel of his sword, his gaze professionally scanning the perimeter.
The Kingsguard, stationed at a distance, bristled instantly. Ser Ryam Redwyne, leading the post, took a step forward. His hand came to rest upon the hilt of his blade, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto the predator. A wild beast in the heart of the Red Keep, only a few feet from princesses of the blood, was a challenge to the very statutes of their order and the safety of the reigning dynasty.
"Easy, Ser Ryam," Corlys said in a low but commanding voice, raising a hand in a placating gesture. "Ares knows where he is, and he knows who stands before him. He is not here to hunt."
The panther, as if understanding his master's words, let out a low guttural sound a rumble that recalled a distant roll of thunder on a summer afternoon. Ares ignored the tensed guardsmen and headed straight for the girls. The White Cloaks froze, ready to draw steel at any moment, but Rhaenys only smiled. She knew that look - intelligent, curious, and devoid of aggression. It was how her Red Queen, Meleys, looked upon Viserra whenever she visited the Dragonpit.
Ares approached Viserra and, bowing his massive head, nudged her palm with a broad, wet nose. The princess did not flinch. On the contrary, she boldly sank her fingers into the thick black fur on the great cat's neck. The panther closed his eyes, let out a vibrating purr, and began to lean his head into the touch, resembling an oversized house cat. Rhaenys could not help herself and joined in, scratching the predator behind the ear. Seeing the fierce creature literally melt under the princesses' touch, Ser Ryam and his men slowly relaxed, though they did not take their eyes off the black panther.
"It seems I worried for nothing," Corlys remarked with a faint, barely perceptible smile, coming to a halt a few paces away. "Princess Viserra, you promised to visit Ares, but it appears he was less patient than you and decided to pay the visit himself."
Viserra laughed, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders as she continued to stroke him.
"He is magnificent, Lord Corlys. His fur is softer than the finest Essosi silks you brought us."
"And far warmer," Rhaenys added, feeling the living, pulsing heat radiating from the predator's powerful body.
"On Driftmark, he often spends his time in our godswood while I am occupied with the affairs of the port, fleet planning, or other family burdens that seem to multiply with every passing year," Corlys said, surveying the ancient trees of the Red Keep. "The air is different here, but the silence and the sense of peace are the same. I am certain Ares will like it here."
He paused for a moment, shifting his gaze to Rhaenys.
"I have spoken with your father, Prince Aemon. We have come to an agreement: Ares will often remain here, in this godswood. He needs the space and the quiet that one cannot always find on the deck of the Sea Snake, or within my own chambers. The Prince's only condition was quite reasonable one of my guards must always be near him. We would not wish for him to accidentally scare the servants to death, or perhaps some overly impressionable visiting lords."
Viserra beamed, her eyes dancing with joy.
"That is wonderful news! I come here almost every morning to escape the noise of the castle. Now I won't be quite so lonely while waiting..." she broke off, not wanting to mention formal receptions and tedious etiquette lessons, "...waiting for my daily duties. With Ares here, time will fly by unnoticed."
Rhaenys, more reserved and observant, looked seriously at Corlys.
"Lord Corlys, since we are in private, Viserra and I wished to say something to you personally."
She gave a nod to Viserra, who immediately understood. The mirth on the princess's face was replaced by an expression of sincere sympathy.
"Lord Corlys," Viserra began softly, "I wished to offer my deepest personal condolences on the passing of your grandfather, Lord Daemon. Rhaenys and I very much wanted to attend the funeral at High Tide to honor his memory and support your House."
Viserra sighed, stroking Ares's ears.
"Unfortunately, my father decided otherwise. His Grace insisted that only he, Queen Alysanne, and my brothers - Aemon and Baelon - should represent the royal family at the ceremony. He deemed it sufficient for protocol and security. We were truly sorry that we could not be by your side that day."
Corlys listened in silence, his face remaining a mask, but a shadow of gratitude flickered in his eyes. Such sincerity from princesses of the blood was worth more than any official missive.
"I thank you, Princesses," he replied in a steady voice. "Lord Daemon was a great man, and he always held King Jaehaerys in the highest regard. I understand His Grace's motives. In these times, the security of the capital and the stability of the family must come first. Your words mean a great deal to me now."
To lighten the atmosphere, Rhaenys touched upon a less somber subject.
"We also wished to thank you for the gifts, Lord Corlys," Rhaenys said, changing the topic. "The mirrors you gave us are true works of art. I saw Viserra staring at her reflection this morning for nearly an hour. And the silks... such shades cannot be found even among the finest masters in King's Landing."
"And the jewelry," Viserra added, momentarily looking up from Ares. "Exquisite and magnificent work. Thank you."
Corlys inclined his head slightly.
"It is an honor that my humble offerings found favor with you. The world is vast, and there is much beauty in it to be seen and brought home. Moreover, I am certain these jewels will only serve to further highlight your beauty, Princesses."
They spoke for a while longer. Corlys told them of his travels - how in Essos they build cities from stone that glows in the twilight, and how on the Summer Isles, people sing songs that, according to the tales of their ancestors, are capable of calming a storm. The girls listened with bated breath. All the while, Ares lay at their feet, occasionally opening a lazy eye and catching his breath while the two princesses of the House of the Dragon stroked him.
"Unfortunately, not everything at sea is so poetic," Corlys's voice grew harder as the conversation turned to the Stepstones. "The situation in the islands is coming to a boil. Pirates and sellswords from Tyrosh and Lys are making themselves far too comfortable. They intercept merchant cogs bound for Driftmark and King's Landing. We must increase our patrols, or trade will suffer. The Crown must act decisively before the Stepstones turn into a more serious problem that will not be so easily solved."
Rhaenys nodded, her face turning grave.
"We have discussed this with my father. He agrees with you. We cannot allow the Triarchy to seize such a strategically vital location."
As the sun began to dip toward the sea, painting the sky in gold and crimson hues, Rhaenys rose. A familiar spark ignited in her eyes - the thrill of a dragonrider.
"The air is growing cooler," she noted. "High time for a flight. Viserra, you promised to keep me company on Meleys today. Lord Corlys," she turned to the man, "I would like to invite you to accompany us to the Dragonpit. I wish to show you my Red Queen in her true majesty before we take to the skies. You have shown us Ares, now it is my turn to introduce you to my Meleys."
Corlys nodded, his gaze meeting Rhaenys's.
"I accept your invitation with great pleasure, Princess. I have heard much of Meleys, but to see her up close is another thing entirely."
"Then we must prepare," Viserra said, leaping to her feet. "We shall look ridiculous in the saddle in these gowns, and the wind at those heights has no mercy for lace."
The girls hurried to their chambers. It was not long before they returned. Instead of voluminous skirts, they now wore form-fitting breeches of supple leather, high boots, and thick riding jackets emblazoned with the sigils of their House. Their hair was tightly braided in intricate patterns to ensure their vision remained clear during maneuvers.
At the gates, horses already awaited them. The small party - the princesses, Corlys, Ser Addam, and several Kingsguard - headed through the city toward Rhaenys's Hill. Ares ran beside Corlys's horse, causing random passersby to press themselves against the walls of houses in terror.
The Dragonpit was a colossal sight. The massive dome crowning the summit of the building loomed over King's Landing. It was a gargantuan structure of stone and iron, capable of housing dozens of dragons - a symbol of the absolute power of House Targaryen. At the entrance stood the Dragonkeepers in their scaly black armor, armed with long poles tipped with metal. The air here was thick with the scent of sulfur and heated stone.
As they dismounted, Rhaenys walked inside with confidence - not as a princess on a stroll, but as the mistress of this place.
"Lead Meleys out!" she commanded in High Valyrian, her voice echoing beneath the vaults of the Pit. "And bring meat. The freshest you have."
The dragonkeepers bowed and scurried off. Rhaenys turned to one of the elder dragonkeepers.
"How is she today? Has she eaten?"
"Yes, Princess, she was given two choice sheep this morning. She was calm, though she showed signs of impatience," one of the dragonkeepers replied with a low bow.
"Good. And bring a slab of succulent mutton for our guest," she nodded toward Ares, who was curiously sniffing the stone floor.
Soon the meat was brought. Ares did not wait for an invitation before he began his meal. He tore through the dense fibers of the mutton with ease using his powerful jaws, the crunch of bone echoing clearly in the hollow silence of the tunnels.
"Watching him now," Viserra said softly, observing the predator rending his prey, "you wouldn't think that only an hour ago he was offering his belly for us to pet. There is so much hidden fury in him."
"As there is in all predators, Princess," Corlys remarked.
In that moment, a deep, vibrating roar echoed from behind the heavy iron grates. The floor beneath their feet trembled slightly. From the darkness of the passage emerged the massive head of Meleys. Her scales, the color of copper and scarlet blood, flashed in the torchlight. The Red Queen was magnificent - massive, with sharp crests and a clever, piercing gaze. She stepped slowly into the open space, her amber eyes with vertical pupils instantly locking onto those present.
Corlys froze. To everyone else, the dragon was merely making a series of sounds - clicks, low rumbles, and whistling breaths. But Corlys, possessing the rare, carefully guarded gift of understanding the tongue of serpents and their kin - Parseltongue - understood every word Meleys spoke. To him, the sounds formed clear phrases echoing in his mind.
"The rider has come..." Meleys rumbled, tilting her head slightly toward Rhaenys. "I smell the scent of the sky on her skin. She is ready for flight. And the rider's sister is with her... she smells of sun and something sweet. A pleasant scent for a two-legged... it does not irritate the nostrils."
Rhaenys and Viserra approached the dragon. Meleys let out a satisfied, vibrating sound, like the purr of a giant cat, as the girls' hands touched her hot scales. Rhaenys stroked her snout with unmasked pride. She turned to Corlys.
"Look at her, Lord Corlys. Meleys is one of the swiftest and strongest of her kind. The fire of Old Valyria itself flows through her. No dragon can match her for speed, and no castle can stand against her flame. She is my pride."
"Yes... scratch..." Meleys closed her eyes, blissfully stretching out her long, powerful neck. "Two-legged creatures are small and fragile, but their palms certainly know the secret to pleasure. Rider, go left... Yes, right there, where the old scales have given way to the new. A bit lower... lower still..."
Viserra began to rhythmically scratch the base of her neck, and the dragon stretched her snout out almost comically, nearly brushing against the girls.
"Yes, yes, right there! Oh, gods of ash, how good that feels... More... harder, little sister... A bit more to the right... Oh, yes..." Meleys let out a sound that, to Corlys, sounded like a long, drawn-out sigh of relief, and her massive tail twitched involuntarily to the side, kicking up a cloud of dust from the stone floor.
Then the dragon stilled and opened one eye, staring directly at Corlys. She slowly reached toward him, sniffing him from a distance.
"And this two-legged... a strange scent comes from him," Meleys grumbled, her nostrils flaring as she released wisps of gray smoke. "Smells of salt, distant lands, and... another dragon? A faint trace... an old trace. Whence did this manling get the scent of my blood? Hmm... but he smells of my rider, too. As if they are from the same nest. Suspicious, but... tolerable. His scent does not make me wish to burn him."
Corlys barely bit back a laugh, pressing his lips tight. If Rhaenys knew what her formidable Red Queen was actually thinking, she would either be greatly surprised or take serious offense at being called a "two-legged." Who would have thought that the temperamental and dangerous Red Queen, the terror of the Crown's enemies, was so playful and honestly grumpy in private.
Meleys moved even closer to Corlys, her nose almost touching his chest.
"The scent is almost as warm as the rider's sister... Perhaps he knows how to scratch a neck as well? It would be good to test..."
Rhaenys, noticing the dragon's interest, tensed for a moment and took a half-step toward them.
"Careful, Lord Corlys. Usually, Meleys does not suffer the presence of strangers so close. She can be quite... prickly."
But seeing the dragon's absolute calm, the princess quickly relaxed. A smile graced her face once more.
"Astonishing. She only acts this peacefully with me and Viserra. It seems she truly likes you, Lord Corlys."
Corlys slowly reached out and cautiously touched the hard, burning scales on Meleys's snout. The dragon did not flinch or let out a threatening growl. Instead, she took a deep breath, as if inhaling and memorizing his scent forever.
"She has a noble soul, Princess," Corlys said calmly, looking directly into Meleys's massive amber eye. "And she unerringly recognizes those who are friends to her rider."
Rhaenys smiled, and there was more warmth in that smile than she cared to show.
"It is time. The sun will not wait, and the dusk is near. We must take to the sky while the horizon is still visible. Viserra, come."
Rhaenys nimbly climbed the leather ladder into the heavy saddle secured to the dragon's back. Reaching a hand down to Viserra, she helped her aunt settle in behind her. Viserra gripped her niece tightly around the waist while Rhaenys tightened the safety straps.
"Thank you for the wonderful walk and the stories, Lord Corlys!" Viserra shouted, trying to be heard over the rising roar Meleys began to emit in preparation for her flight.
Corlys raised a hand in a farewell gesture, his voice long accustomed to carrying over the crash of waves and the whistle of the wind at sea ringing out clearly even through the mounting thunder of dragon wings.
"The pleasure was mine, Princess!" he called back with a faint, respectful half-smile. "It is good to know that in the Red Keep, there are still those who value true stories and good company as highly as I do. A fair flight to you!"
Rhaenys pulled confidently on the lead chains, her face becoming a mask of focus.
"Soves, Meleys!" she cried the command in High Valyrian.
Meleys unfurled her colossal wings, which in the gloom of the Pit looked like the banners of death itself. With a powerful, sudden lurch that sent pebbles and dust flying in all directions, the Red Queen surged forward toward the great archway of the Dragonpit's entrance.
Corlys stood below, watching as the scaly shadow soared into the evening sky, becoming one with the setting sun. He heard the parting roar of Meleys as it faded into the heights:
"At last! Freedom! Wind beneath my wings... cool clouds... and a rider who holds the reins tight. Fly, two-legged! While this sky belongs to us!"
Corlys Velaryon smiled faintly at his thoughts. He whistled for Ares, who had already finished his meal and was now lazily licking a paw. The predator was by his side in an instant. Escorted by Ser Addam and the guardsmen, Corlys headed for the exit. The evening promised to be a long one.
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A/N
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