Forsaken Bloodlines {HP x GOT}

Chapter 5.17: The Heart II

As Drogon soared through the skies, the vast Dothraki Sea stretched beneath them, the endless expanse of grasslands broken only by the occasional scattered rocks and the distant movements of herds of wild horses. Lyanna, gripping Drogon's scales with one hand, felt a strange calm in the air around them. The dragon's wings beat rhythmically, propelling them westward toward Pentos. She could see the faint outline of the city on the horizon, nestled against the shores of the Narrow Sea.

The journey had taken a toll on them—exhaustion from the tension with the Dothraki, the weight of the mission, and the looming threat of being hunted by those who feared her. But now, Pentos was within reach. She hoped the city would offer respite, where they could regroup and continue their quest. But she knew better than to trust too easily. Every place and every person could be another obstacle.

Drogon began to descend, wings folding as he flew low over the city's towering walls. Pentos was a bustling hub, with its grand gates and marble buildings stretching into the distance. As they drew nearer, Lyanna scanned the streets below. She could see traders and merchants milling about, their carts brimming with goods. But as they passed over the city's outer walls, something shifted. The people below stopped in their tracks and stared up at the sky. It didn't take long for their expressions to turn from curiosity to shock.

"They've seen us," Lyanna murmured, noting the frightened whispers that began to ripple through the streets below.

"We should land quickly," Melisandre advised, her voice calm but firm. "If we don't, we risk drawing too much attention."

Lyanna nodded and urged Drogon down. He banked sharply, coming in for a graceful landing just outside the main gates of Pentos, in an open courtyard that was shielded from most of the city's view. Drogon's claws scraped against the cobblestone as he touched down, creating a low rumble that made the ground beneath their feet tremble.

As soon as the dragon's massive form settled, the air grew tense. A few city guards, startled by the dragon's presence, appeared at the edge of the courtyard. They wore ornate armor, their swords drawn, eyes wide in disbelief.

Lyanna dismounted first, her boots clicking against the cobblestones. She turned to Melisandre and Tom, both still on Drogon's back.

"Stay close," she warned, her voice steady despite the situation.

Melisandre was the first to follow, and Tom hesitated for a moment before sliding off Drogon's back as well. His eyes roamed over the city, wary of the stares from the guards.

"They know who I am," Lyanna said quietly, meeting Tom's gaze. "They'll recognize Drogon too. We won't be able to hide for long."

As they made their way toward the gates, the guards seemed unsure of how to react. Their hands tightened on their weapons, but none made a move to advance. Lyanna took a breath, deciding to take control of the situation before it spiraled out of hand.

"I am Lyanna Targaryen, heir to Daenerys Targaryen," she announced, her voice ringing through the air. "I come seeking refuge in Pentos. We mean no harm."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances. One of them, an older man with a grizzled face, stepped forward cautiously.

"The Targaryen princess," he muttered under his breath. "This... this is impossible."

"I assure you, it's not," Lyanna replied, meeting his eyes. "I need to speak to your leaders. Now."

The guards hesitated again, glancing nervously at Drogon, who stood ominously in the courtyard, his fiery eyes glowing like embers in the darkening sky. They knew better than to antagonize the creature—Pentos had heard the stories of Drogon's destruction, and they did not want to find out firsthand.