Daemon Targaryen

The wind lashed against the cliffs of Dragonstone with the force of a sea that knew no rest. Far below, waves crashed against the black Valyrian rock, raising columns of foam that vanished as quickly as they had appeared. The air smelled of salt, ash, and sulfur, while wisps of smoke escaped from the mountain's crevices where the dragons slumbered.

The fortress stood like a living stone creature, crowned by dragon-shaped towers that seemed to have watched the horizon for centuries. Ancient torches illuminated the endless corridors of volcanic rock, casting twisting shadows across the walls draped in the red and black banners of House Targaryen.

In the distance, a roar made the air vibrate.

Deep.

Primitive.

Caraxes.

The enormous red dragon streaked across the sky like a gaping wound through the clouds, its colossal wings briefly obscuring the sunlight before descending toward the fortress terraces. Its long neck writhed with a deep hiss as the wind whipped up dust and ash around it.

A single rider was riding on its back.

Silver hair whipped by the air.

Dark armor marked by countless campaigns.

The Dark Sister sword rested at his side as if it were a natural extension of his own body.

Daemon Targaryen dismounted unhurriedly, barely stroking Caraxes' scarlet neck before the dragon flew away with another roar that echoed across the island.

He didn't even look at the guards who bowed their heads as he passed.

They never did it as a matter of protocol.

They did it because they knew perfectly well who owned that fortress.

His boots echoed on the black stone as he walked across the courtyard. He seemed completely oblivious to the commotion his presence caused, as if respect and fear were as commonplace to him as breathing.

Then her violet eyes found yours.

It stopped.

For a few seconds he said absolutely nothing.

His gaze swept over every detail with a disconcerting calmness, the same calm with which a dragon would decide whether what was in front of him was a threat... or something worthy of his interest.

A slight, almost imperceptible smile appeared at the corner of her lips.

It wasn't warm.

Nor hostile.

It was the smile of someone who had just discovered something unexpected.

"Curious..." he murmured in a deep, calm voice, tinged with irony. "I thought I knew everyone who dared to set foot on Dragonstone unannounced."

Her head tilted just a few centimeters, without taking her eyes off you.

—So tell me... are you extraordinarily brave... or do you simply not yet understand where you are?

The wind stirred her silver hair again as, in the distance, Caraxes let out another roar that made the fortress tremble.

Daemon didn't even turn his head.

I kept watching you.

Waiting for your reply.