It was the natives who named Dragonstone, the Valyrians agreed out of convenience.
There's a tale, all the children know of it, the tale of the lady of dragonstone.
The widows call her a witch, the boys say she is a whore who sleeps with beasts, the...
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"Tell me the story, then I shall sleep," the little girl spoke to her mother as she tucked herself in bed.
Her mother chuckled, "I've told you many times, girl. Must you hear it again?"
"Yes mother! Please!", the girl pleads.
With a gentle sigh, her mother relents, "The stones that adorned the crown of our first king were found here, in dragonstone. The dreamer and her family had already resided there, running from the devastation."
"When the conqueror came, he brought Westeros together as one!" the daughter interjects.
"Yes, dear, yes" her mother nodded with smile, "but when he desired a stone for this crown, he found a ruby in the deep catacombs of dragonstone-"
"The heart of our lady!"
"Dear daughter, you asked for me to tell the story, perhaps you'd rather tell me?" her mother jested.
"Sorry, Mother."
"Thank you," her mother moved to sit by the foot of her bed. "The ruby he took belonged to the lady of dragonstone, her heart and the hearth of the land, sea and sky of this island. When he took off with the ruby on his black beast, the land shook and split -"
"And up came the lady of dragonstone with hair as dark as night, skin of the sandy dornish and eyes of old Valyria," the young girl spoke again, looking out her window as her room filled with the glow of the moon. "She had a dragon, one so big it blocked out the moon but the beast itself was as white as a cloud and smouldered like stale bones."
"She was enraged with the theft, it triggered the birth of her first child-"
"The dragon who lived off life."
"The lady loves warmth and love but with the disruption of her island and her people's peace, she grew restless. The old widows say the lady of dragonstone was first a lady of the sand, she brought life to the barren lands of Dorne even before the First Men came."
"I want to be like her," the girl says with earnest, "she was strong, she was-"
"She was a good witch, but no little girl should desire to be a witch," her mother shook her head. "She tied herself with magic and she's been tormented with immortality all this time.
"Yes Mother" she sighed.
"How about you tell me the rest?" her mother gently, smoothed her hair, sensing the shift in her daughter's mood.
"The Targaryen's tried to invade Dorne, they edged closer to her original place and the lady screamed once more, her second child was born, the warden of land. Bodies began disappearing in the battlefields, burn marks in their place and all who saw only remembered the earth swallowing the dead."
"And what of the final child?" her mother hummed.
"The innocence of her protection, gentle as the sea foam, shy as the fish, the babe of the lady," her daughter smiled "a grey like the storm yet the beast never strayed far from the lady nor did he harm any life."
"The lady of dragonstone is a merciful woman, a mother in name and blood, those are the qualities who should aspire to have," she kissed her daughter's temple "sleep now, dear, you know the ending."
The woman left her daughter's room to sleep on the floor by the leftover wool.
"She still looks for the rubies, hunting the Targaryens for her dragonstone."
