[139] Dragons Ascendant

Chapter 139: Dragons Ascendant

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The ancient volcanic fortress of Dragonstone rose from the Narrow Sea like a monument to Valyrian supremacy, and its twisted towers and dragon-carved battlements cast long shadows across the black stone courtyards.

– Swiish.

As Viserion descended in a graceful spiral, her golden scales caught the afternoon light, transforming her into a living embodiment of molten fire against the dark fortress walls.

A roar split through the sky. Drogon's massive black form circled overhead, his wings blotting out patches of sky as he acknowledged our arrival with a rumbling call that echoed off the stone. The sight of two dragons claiming their ancestral seat sent a thrill through me that had nothing to do with conquest and everything to do with rightness.

Is this what Aegon the Conqueror felt when he first looked upon these shores? After all, he’d spent more than a decade on this island before deciding to unite the Seven Kingdoms.

Below, I also saw humans. Workers. They were carrying bags to boats and ships waiting by the sea. They must be Dragon Glass, being shipped to the Wall. I have to talk to Sansa about this, about whether Robb said anything about the White Walker situation.

“Down, girl,” I said, and Viserion flew down to the vast ancient bridge-wall, somewhat reminding me of the Great Wall of China, although much smaller in size. She touched down on the bridge with surprising delicacy for a creature of her size, her talons clicking against the ancient stones that had once felt the weight of Balerion the Black Dread.

“Nice landing,” I said as I dismounted smoothly, my boots finding purchase on ground that sang with the echoes of three centuries of Targaryen rule.

“Brother.”

When I turned my head to the side, there she was.

Daenerys walked down the grand stone staircase, bathed in the golden light that streamed through the tall windows of the great hall behind her. The sight of her transformation still caught me off guard, even though it’d been weeks since then.

Her black-scaled gown clung to every curve of her body like a second skin, the material seeming to shift and shimmer with each breath she took. The bodice pushed up her somehow growing breasts enticingly, creating a valley of pale flesh that contrasted strikingly with the dark scales. Her waist was impossibly narrow, accentuated by the way the gown flared at her hips, hinting at the powerful thighs beneath.

The horns that curved from her temples caught the light like polished obsidian, weaving through silver-white hair that had been braided in an intricate pattern I didn't recognize. Her violet eyes burned with an intensity that made my own draconic blood sing in response, pupils narrowed to predatory slits that tracked my every movement.

How magnificent.

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She descended the stairs with deliberate grace, each step showing the subtle sway of her hips, the confident set of her shoulders. The gown's fabric slid across the stone with each movement, and I found myself being mesmerized by the play of light across the scales that seemed to pulse with inner fire.

"Sister," I called out as she reached the bottom of the stairs, my voice carrying easily across the bridge we stood upon. "You make Dragonstone your own. I don’t see your wings."

A faint smile played at her lips, transforming her draconic features into something both beautiful and terrifying. "This place is the dragon's birthright, is it not?" Her voice held new harmonics, deeper tones that resonated in my chest. "As is yours, brother. As for my wings, I’ve learned to conceal them. It was getting bothersome during sleep. Have you taken care of everything in the West?"

So her draconic features can be controlled, I noted. "Yes, Casterly Rock is properly under my rule now, as is the Lady sitting on its throne."

Her smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed sharper than I remembered. "I trust their education has been illuminating?"

"Little happened after you left, sister. You were there when the Lord Westerling situation happened. There’s not much else to mention, but yes, illuminating it sure has been."

Daenerys laughed, the sound carrying an edge that would have made lesser men flee. "I left because I knew there was no more to worry about, and I was right."

Power suits her. It always did, but now she wears it like armor.

She gestured toward a small group that had been waiting respectfully at the edge of the courtyard, maintaining a careful distance from the dragons. "Lady Velaryon has been overseeing the shipments. She is eager to present herself."

I followed her gaze to see a woman who made my eyes narrow slightly. Lady Alarra Velaryon stood with the poise of nobility, but there was something undeniably sensual about her bearing that set her apart from the typical court lady.

She was perhaps thirty, with chocolate-dark skin and the curly silver-gold hair of Old Valyria that marked her house's ancient bloodline. Her gown was a deep sea-green that complemented her pale eyes, cut in a style that was both modest and subtly provocative. The bodice hugged her generous curves, and when she moved, there was a fluid grace that suggested she was as comfortable on a ship's deck as in a great hall.

Beside her stood a boy of perhaps twelve, his wide eyes fixed on our dragons with undisguised wonder.

House Velaryon. There was a reason they were here, managing the Dragon Glass. Their seat, the island of DriftMark, was right beside this island of Dragonstone. However… They’re Stannis's former allies.

Back in the day, in the Kingswoods, I met the Lord of House Valeryon. He died during the Battle of Blackwater, as deserved for traitors.

Back in the woods, I’d considered making House Valeryon the first house under my rule, although thankfully things moved in a more preferable plan, and I’d already claimed the realm before having to scheme with a minor house like this.

So where do their loyalties truly lie?

My eyes sharpened as Lady Alarra stepped forward, her son close behind, and sank into a deep curtsey that somehow managed to be both respectful and alluring. The movement caused her bodice to strain enticingly, and I noticed how her hands trembled slightly as she held the position. I wondered if she felt rage from her husband’s death.

I hoped she didn’t. Her lips were incredibly full.

"Your Grace," she began, her voice melodious despite the obvious nervousness. "I am Lady Alarra Velaryon, and this is my son, Monterys Velaryon, the current Lord of House Velaryon. We are honored beyond words to—"

"It's the Valyrian man from Kingswood!" the boy interrupted, pointing directly at me with the fearless enthusiasm of youth. "Mother, remember? He was very tall! Ah, right, you weren’t there… Father was…"

Out of the mouths of babes.

I couldn't suppress my amusement as I approached the boy, ruffling his dark hair softly. "That I was, young Lord. And still am, though the circumstances have changed somewhat."

Monterys beamed up at me. "You have a dragon now! A real dragon! Can I touch her?"

"Perhaps when you're older," I said diplomatically, noting how Daenerys watched this exchange with curiosity. "Dragons require really careful handling."

Lady Alarra had risen from her curtsey, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her son's boldness. "Your Grace, please forgive him. He speaks without thinking—"

"He speaks with honesty," I cut her off gently. "A rare quality in these times. Something I’m not sure the previous Lord had, given his allegiance."

“....” Her expression grew nervous, sweat building up.

I straightened, allowing my voice to take on the formal tone of kingship. "I apologize for my crude words. I don’t truly blame you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have tasked you with such an important job. Lady Velaryon, your house has served admirably in our absence. The dragonglass shipments have exceeded all expectations."

Relief flooded her features, and she inclined her head gracefully. "W-we live to serve the realm, Your Grace."

"Indeed. Such service does much to overshadow past allegiances made under... difficult circumstances." I let my gaze rest meaningfully on her face. "Relax. Your late husband's support of Stannis Baratheon is understood. What else could he have done? Proximity to Dragonstone left House Velaryon with few choices."

That was true enough. What could the previous Lord do if the then ruler of Dragonstone, Stannis Baratheon, with such a powerful army, asked him to join his troops in the war? Other than that, there was history involved here.

Tears gathered in her pale eyes as she processed my words. The forgiveness she hadn't dared hope for was being freely given.

"Your Grace is too generous," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"Generosity has nothing to do with it," I replied firmly. "Pragmatism does. The realm needs strong houses, loyal houses. House Velaryon has proven itself capable of both strength and loyalty."

Daenerys stepped closer, her presence adding weight to my words. When she moved, the scales of her gown caught the light in hypnotic patterns, and I noticed how Lady Alarra's eyes trembled at the sight of her transformed features.

"The sea remembers," Daenerys said, her voice carrying an otherworldly quality. "As do dragons. Past storms are forgotten when the waters run calm. Additionally, it’s difficult to forget the close alliance of House Targaryen and House Velaryon."

She's learning to speak like a queen. Good.

Lady Alarra sank to her knees, pulling her son down beside her. "Thank you, thank you so much. I… House Velaryon pledges its undying loyalty to King Viserys and Queen Daenerys. Our ships, our men, our very lives are yours to command."

I exchanged a look with Daenerys, seeing my own satisfaction reflected in her violet eyes. House Velaryon had already pledged its loyalty by accepting this task, but it solidified things by bowing down properly.

Dany moved closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her transformed body, and I clasped her waist in a gesture of unity.

That definitely caught the attention of Lady Alarra, but I didn’t care. "With the Narrow Sea secured by loyal houses like your Velaryon," I said, "and the North receiving its due, our foundations are strong. I trust you to keep up the good work."

Lady Velaryon remained kneeling, her son doing the same beside her with a nervous look, while our dragons circled overhead like living omens.

“Yes, of course, Your Grace.”

I gestured for Lady Velaryon to rise. "See that the dragonglass continues to flow north. The Night's Watch will have need of it soon."

"It shall be done, Your Grace," she said. “Please visit the castle, I’ve prepared lunch.”

As she withdrew with her son, bowing repeatedly, Daenerys turned to me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"The dragonglass is one matter, brother," she said, her voice pitched for my ears alone. "But I have to return to Meereen soon. How long can a Queen remain away from her kingdom?”

“You haven’t even seen King’s Landing yet, how can you say that?” I shook my head. “Don’t worry too much, I’ll release you soon. First, let’s have lunch and then I’ll show you our home."

Dany stared into my eyes, slowly revealing a smile.

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