𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ( 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. )

chapter nineteen.

( ACT II; the age of the dragon. )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter 19: a queen of ice.

RHAELLOR'S absence left a gaping hole in Vaegon, weighing him down everyday that passed that the dragon had not be spotted by those delegated to be on the lookout. Working hard to maintain the strength expected of a king, the man fought against his worries to continue ruling Mereen while also planning for the journey to Westeros. With the worries of his dragons mingling along with his everyday stress, he thought on his pearlescent mount, with earnest desire to see his return. Gods only knew where the problematic beast might be, but he would calm his worries with the knowledge that most anyone in the world would be too frightened to face a dragon; a quickly growing one at that. Yet, as they had already learned, there was not much to be done for those who might come in contact with the king's unruly mount.

He frowned, arms crossed as he watched Raina caress the muzzle of Haelyx, the sun high in the sky as they stood in the prairie where he'd last seen Jorah. Where he'd cast him out. He'd made an effort to not recall the event just a few days prior despite having agreed to go with one of his future queens to visit the dragons, particularly Haelyx.

Jorah's betrayal was still far too fresh inside for him to face. The man he'd come to see as a father in the year they'd spent in the Dothraki sea, the man that had offered endless advice to him once he'd stepped forward as the heir of his house and sought to take back the throne that was his by birthright. He was wounded to think that perhaps the genuine connection he'd built with the knight had been nothing but farce. Vaegon wanted to believe him when he'd begged for him to listening, for him to understand why he'd been in Essos and how things had changed, as he had said. None of it mattered now, now that Jorah had been exiled once more.

The emerald green dragon before them, brilliant with color as the sunlight reflected on her scales, seemed infatuated with Raina, inching her large head closer in an effort to receive more scratches and gentle cooing from the Stark woman. The king was still utterly astonished and confused with how Haelyx had taken to someone with no Valyrian blood, someone of lineage deep rooted in the north.

Yet, he reminded himself that in a few rare instances there had been riders without it. He remembered reading of a few in the Dance of Dragons that had been recruited for the Blacks. Potential dragon seeds, he'd read, but still without an obvious lineage. Raina's very apparent northern heritage still left many questions unanswered. But the potential to have both of his queens on dragon-back was almost enough for him to be content with the facts of the situation. He didn't need to delve further into his curiosity.

Imagining Raina atop Haelyx's back, Vaegon cocked a head as he watched. The she-dragon was gentle, a mirroring personality of the woman that stroked her muzzle, unlike her clutch-mates Rhaellor and Drokar.

"Why don't you try to mounting her?"

Raina turned, giving him a wide eyed look, her face pale at the suggestion. She pursed her lips as she looked back to the dragon that was demanding to be touched in the way of a purring cat. "I don't think I'd like to risk such a thing," she told him, hand continuing the stroke along the hardening scales of the maturing dragon. "I'm lucky enough she enjoys my company. I don't want to ruin it by trying to climb on her back."