LAENYS VELARYON, Lady of the Tides, princess of Dragonstone, youngest daughter of Corlys Velaryon-Lord of the Tides-and Rhaenys Targaryen-the Queen Who Never Was.
No one in all the realms believed that Rhaenys was with child when she announced it pu...
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The sun stood high in the sky, its midday brilliance casting stark shadows on the sandy shores of Driftmark. The roar of Vermithor's wings echoed over the turbulent sea as Laenys Velaryon maneuvered her dragon towards the beach. Her heart raced with a combination of resolve and unease, and the sight of Seasmoke, her brother Laenor's dragon, landing on the coast quickened her urgency.
She wanted to know if this rider was of Targaryen heritage or rather a bastard that sided with the greens. She felt slightly angry, who would dare try and claim Seasmoke? Were they not frightened of her to even do such a thing?
As Vermithor's great wings beat to a halt, sending a gust of wind across the shore, Laenys's heart pounded in her chest. Vermithor touched down gracefully on the sand, the dragon's massive form leaving an indelible mark on the shore.
She dismounted swiftly, her gaze fixed on the imposing form of Seasmoke, the dragon that belonged to her brother Laenor. The dragon lay sprawled on the sand, its silver-blue scales reflecting the bright sunlight. Laenys's pulse quickened as she saw the rider dismounting, obscured by Seasmoke's massive body.
She stood near her dragon, who grumbled in curiousness. The rider then took a cautious step forward and his face cleared, and Laenys' eyes widened.
The person who had taken Seasmoke, her brother's dragon. Was none other than her bastard brother Adam, who looked at her with hesitation. His body tense as he watched Vermithor puff his chest, almost in pride.
The dragon's roar seemed almost like a cry of recognition, and Seasmoke's head turned toward Laenys, its eyes gleaming with a mix of longing and sadness. The beast had been seen roaming the skies ever since Laenor's death, seeming unsettled and rather lonely. Laenys felt a pang of emotion but forced herself to maintain a regal composure. She stepped forward, her voice carrying the weight of both authority and emotion. "Addam of Hull," she said, her tone stern.
"Even though you hold a place in my heart, been fed and clothed well by my coin... you stand before your princess—the daughter of Lord Corlys. Explain how you came to take a dragon belonging to House Targaryen!" she shouted over the howling wind.
