"Blood rider," Naggo corrected, mounting his horse. "The road does not guard itself."
He gave them one last look, then spurred his horse forward. The sound of hooves echoed on stone as he rode into the darkening horizon, the Grass Road stretching endless ahead of him.
…
The Relaxation Day of the Dragon Empress
The morning air outside Meereen smelled of salt and stone. The mountain range near the coast had become the new nesting ground for the dragons. Its cliffs were jagged, its slopes covered with sparse grass and scrub, but there were wide plateaus where the beasts could rest, hunt, and stretch their wings without endangering the city below.
Daenerys climbed the winding path with her son in her arms. Goku squirmed, full of restless energy, tugging at her hair with small fingers as his bright eyes fixed on the distant shapes moving in the sky. She let him pull; her mind was elsewhere.
The sound of wings came first, then shadows streaked across the rocks. Drogon landed hard, stone cracking beneath his weight. Behind him swooped Starfire and Darkfire, their scales catching the morning light. Viserion and Rhaegar followed, circling before settling on higher ground, their long necks bending to study the newcomers.
Goku laughed. It was a pure, ringing sound, untouched by fear. Daenerys lowered him to the ground. The boy toddled forward, stumbling once, then steadying himself. He raised his arms to the dragons as though they were playmates instead of predators.
The dragons stirred. Drogon gave a low growl, wings half-spread, protective as always. But Daenerys touched his snout and whispered. The sound calmed him.
It was Darkfire who moved first. Of all the five, he was the least trusting. His scales were a deep red streaked with shadow-black, his eyes sharp and bright as molten gold. He had never allowed a rider near, not even Daenerys. Yet, as Goku reached him, Darkfire lowered his head, sniffing.
The boy slapped his tiny palm against the dragon's nose. Darkfire huffed, smoke curling from his nostrils. Then he did something none of them expected. He nudged the child gently, the way a mother might nudge a foal.
Daenerys froze, watching. She felt her heart pound. Goku laughed again and tried to climb onto the dragon's claw. Darkfire shifted his talons carefully, almost protectively, as though presenting a step for the boy.
"He chooses you," Daenerys murmured. She wasn't speaking to anyone in particular.
For years she had feared that her dragons might never accept anyone else, that they would be hers alone to command. Yet here was Darkfire, the fiercest of the brood, lowering himself for a child not yet three summers old.
The other dragons watched. Starfire hissed but made no move. Viserion tilted his head curiously. Drogon growled low in his chest but obeyed Daenerys' calming touch. Rhaegar let out a long, questioning cry. But none interfered.
Daenerys let it happen. She had always believed her children were bound to her blood, her fire. Now it seemed the bond would stretch further.
After a time, she gathered Goku again, lifting him from Darkfire's claws. The dragon gave a soft rumble, reluctant to release the boy.
"You'll see him again," Daenerys promised, stroking the dragon's snout. "Every day if you wish. But for now, he is still too small."
Darkfire exhaled heat across her face, but he did not resist.
---
The morning became training. Daenerys mounted Drogon and took to the air while the others followed. She kept the flight short and playful, not drills of fire and dive. She wanted her children to enjoy the freedom of the sky. The five dragons wheeled across the coastline, their shadows racing across the waves. From Drogon's back, Goku clutched tightly against her, the boy squealing with laughter as the world rushed beneath him.
Drogon dipped low, skimming the sea, salt spray lashing across Daenerys' cheeks. Then he soared high, climbing until the city of Meereen looked no larger than a child's toy. Goku kicked his legs and shouted something unintelligible into the wind. Daenerys only laughed, her heart swelling with pride.
For one rare morning, there were no councils, no petitions, no endless scrolls of law and trade. There was only sky, fire, and the sound of her son's joy.
When the dragons grew tired, she brought Drogon down to the cliffs where they had begun. The others landed in a storm of wings and dust, curling around the mountain ridges like guardians of stone.
Daenerys sat against Drogon's shoulder, her body warm from the heat of his scales. Goku tugged at her dress and whined. She smiled, loosening the fabric to feed him. His small hands rested against her skin as he nursed, his eyes half-lidded with drowsy contentment.
"Someday you'll ride them alone," she whispered. "Someday you'll command them as I do. But not yet, little one. Not yet."
When he finished, she held him close, breathing in the soft scent of his hair. Then she passed him gently to Jiqhi, who had waited at a distance with the other attendants.
"Take him back," Daenerys said. "He needs rest."
Jiqhi nodded, cradling the boy with practiced ease.
---
The sun had begun to fall by then. Its orange glow spread across the sea, painting the waves with fire. The dragons shifted restlessly, settling in their new nest as the shadows stretched long.
Daenerys stood on the cliff edge, her hair whipping in the evening wind. She felt the weight of peace around her, heavy and unfamiliar. For once, there were no enemies pressing at her gates, no masters to break, no cities to conquer. Only the empire she had built, breathing and alive, stretching from these coasts to the far grasslands.
She exhaled slowly, savoring it. A day for herself, stolen from the storm of ruling.
She turned then, her eyes finding Drogo's tall frame and Daario's easy smirk as they approached from the path below. Daenerys turned around again and undid the knot of her dress around her neck. It was rare for her to get a chance to receive the cocks of her consorts purely for the purpose of pleasure only. Most of the time she receives them only for the sake of getting rid of her exhaustion and need for sleep. That's why she had only invited her two most favorite men who could make her scream, unlike any other.
…
Next chapter: The conspiracies of the dark room
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