Breakbones and the Dragonrider

Chapter 33

The feeling of cold, wet sand between her toes grounded Rhaenyra, but she still felt the sway of the boat beneath her feet. As she looked up at the carved figures along the walls of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra felt a pang of guilt. So far from King's Landing, she felt calm. Safe. She knew it pained her father to see her go, but she hoped with time her trips to Dragonstone wouldn't hurt as much.

They had just arrived by boat that morning, Laenor having taken Seasmoke and Syrax to Dragonstone days prior, and before she had even climbed the steps to the castle, she walked along the beach, her skirts bunched around her knees. Two days on a ship had paled in comparison to the time she spent sailing from Whiteharbor to King's Landing. But reaching Dragonstone would have taken her an hour on Syrax. Being a mother still felt so foreign to her, but Jacaerys was her whole world, and now her life was much different. He was worth it.

Harwin stood several paces away, watching as Rhaenyra felt the ebb and flow of the tide over her ankles. After a moment, he walked closer, standing just a few feet behind her.

"Let's help get everyone settled," he said, hoping to get Rhaenyra by a fire to warm up.

Rhaenyra turned, and looked at Harwin, his eyes almost coal blue in the overcast light of Dragonstone. A fine mist had settled over the beach, and Harwin hoped to get Rhaenyra up to the castle before the cold set in.

Rhaenyra nodded, and walked further up the beach, where she sat on the cropping of rocks where she had left her boots. She pulled one foot up, and brushed the sand away as best she could before she put her boots back on. She looked back at the gate, still open for them. And then she noticed Harwin's gaze up at the castle.

"I forgot that you've never been here," she said, working on the next shoe. "You joined the city watch after Daemon went to the Stepstones."

"Dragonstone is legendary," Harwin said, looking back at Rhaenyra. "I heard stories as a boy about the painted table."

Rhaenyra gave a half smile. The table her ancestor Aegon the Conquerer had commissioned, a replica of Westeros, where he had plotted his conquest of the island.

Rhaenyra stifled her smile, and started the walk through the gates and up the steps. Rhaenyra found it charming how Harwin seemed mystified by things that to her seemed normal—like watching Jace's dragon hatch, visiting the place Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys had plotted their conquest of Westeros.

"Once you've recovered from seeing the table, I'll have to show you the caves," Rhaenyra said cryptically.

"Caves?" Harwin repeated, hoping for clarification.

"You heard right," Rhaenyra said, divulging no more.

Harwin smiled at the back of Rhaenyra's head. He loved these moments between them. It gave him some kind of glimpse into what a real courtship would have looked like for them. And the thought of being able to be even just a little bit closer to each other on Dragonstone had been something he'd looked forward to since Rhaenyra told him they were leaving King's Landing. He only had to take Criston Cole's sword to his side to make that happen.

Upon entering the castle, servants employed by Rhaenyra and Laenor's household set about establishing their work in Dragonstone. Cooks directed produce and meat towards the kitchen, chambermaids moved trunks of bedclothes up stairs to bed chambers. By nightfall, Dragonstone would be a functional household.

Harwin had duties just like the rest of the household. He and his commanders, and the Targaryen soldiers with them, needed to familiarize themselves with the castle, the fortress around it, and set up watch. Tomorrow Harwin would venture out on the island, and ensure he knew what was beyond the fortress.