𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗬 ──── 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯

A Longing for Home

In her solar adorned with Valyrian tapestries, Lyanna sat upon a cushioned window seat, her melodious humming filling the chamber with the sweet tune her mother had taught her in childhood. The ancient song spoke of dragons soaring through summer skies. A gentle knock echoed through the room, causing her to raise her dark eyes and gesture welcomingly.

The heavy oak door creaked open, revealing Rhaenyra, her silver-gold hair catching the afternoon light that streamed through the stained glass. "There you are, my dear friend," she declared warmly, crossing the chamber to embrace Lyanna. The two women, as close as sisters since their days as young ladies of the court, held each other tight.

Lyanna pulled back gently, her slender fingers brushing a wayward strand of silver-gold hair from Rhaenyra's face. The Targaryen princess's hair shimmered like spun moonlight in the chamber's warm glow. "What brings you to my chambers, Rhaenyra?" Lyanna asked, noting the mischievous glint in her friend's eyes.

Rhaenyra's violet eyes sparkled with excitement, a trait so characteristic of her Valyrian bloodline. A smile played across her lips, one that Lyanna knew well - it was the same smile that had preceded countless adventures throughout their years together. "I want us to ride," she declared, her voice carrying the commanding presence of a true dragonrider. The word 'ride' held special meaning between them, for they both knew she spoke not of mere horses, but of their dragons waiting in the drake yard.

A smile graced Lyanna's features, her eyes alight with anticipation. "Of course. Let me but inform Mother, and we shall take wing." Rising with the grace expected of a noble lady, she returned her leather-bound tome to its rightful place upon the carved shelf before hurrying from the chamber, Rhaenyra's footsteps echoing behind her own.

The two young women swept through the torch-lit halls of the ancient keep, their skirts rustling against the stone floors as they made their way to the kitchens. There they found Lady Messyna, ever dutiful, overseeing the evening's preparations. The aroma of roasting meats and freshly baked bread filled the air.

"Mother," Lyanna called out, her voice carrying across the busy kitchen.

Lady Messyna turned, her knowing eyes taking in the sight of her daughter and the Targaryen princess, both flushed with excitement. "Is something amiss, my dears?"

"Might Rhaenyra and I take our dragons for a flight?" Lyanna asked, almost breathless with anticipation.

Lady Messyna's laugh was warm as summer wine. "Oh, my sweet Lyanna. You're eight-and-ten now, a woman grown. You need not seek my permission for such things anymore." Her eyes sparkled with affection. "But yes, of course you may. The skies await you both."

Lyanna and Rhaenyra squealed with delight, their joy echoing through the stone halls as they raced like girls half their age toward the stables. Their horses - Lyanna's midnight-black courser and Rhaenyra's silver palfrey - stood ready, having been prepared by the ever-vigilant stable hands who had grown accustomed to the young ladies' impromptu adventures.

Lord Liam emerged from the keep's shadow, his strong arms finding their place around Lady Messyna's waist. Together they watched their daughter and the dragon princess mount their steeds with practiced ease. The late afternoon sun caught the pins in their hair - steel and dragonglass for Lyanna, gold and ruby for Rhaenyra - as they urged their mounts toward the dragon pits.

"They remind me of us at that age," Lord Liam murmured to his wife, his weathered hand covering hers. "Just as wild, just as free."

Lady Messyna leaned into her husband's embrace as they watched the girls disappear around the castle's ancient walls. "Though we never had dragons at our disposal, my love," she replied with a knowing smile.