"But why did you kill Joffrey?" Sansa still didn't understand Petyr's motives.
"Wasn't it all for you?" Petyr's eyes burned with intensity.
Sansa shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his ardent gaze. "Where are we going now?"
"The Eyrie, in the Vale. To your aunt." Seeing her recoil, Petyr didn't press. He was remarkably patient with women.
"Why not Riverrun? My mother and brother are there," Sansa asked in surprise. After barely escaping King's Landing, she'd assumed she'd be reunited with her mother. Instead, Petyr was taking her to the Eyrie.
Though her Aunt Lysa lived there, Sansa had only met her once as a child. Riverrun, while not truly her home, at least held her mother and brother.
"The Twins and Tywin's armies have completely surrounded it. Not even a bird could fly in. Do you think we could?"
Hearing this, Sansa fell silent. She knew she was in the same boat as Petyr now, and that a little compliance would make the journey easier.
The Eyrie was far better than King's Landing. There, she wouldn't have to be constantly on guard, living in daily fear. She could wait for her mother there or find a way to return to her home in Winterfell.
In King's Landing, Joffrey had forced her to look at her father's head impaled on a spear. He had nearly ordered his men to strip her naked in front of everyone. She had almost been gang-raped by seven or eight rioters. And Tywin had forced her to marry Littlefinger Tyrion.
She was no longer the little girl who dreamed of princes on white horses and being a queen. Now, she only wanted to be home with her family.
Now that she had finally escaped that hellish place, King's Landing, she felt an overwhelming sense of relief.
Even if others now suspected her of murdering Joffrey, she would never return to that place that had given her so many nightmares.
She wondered what would happen to Tyrion, her nominal husband who had helped her so many times. As a Lannister, the Queen Mother Cersei wouldn't dare condemn him to death, Sansa thought as she watched King's Landing recede into the distance.
***
Dragonstone. Shireen's morning gloom vanished as she stared at the two large sacks of food.
"Where did you get these? You're so strong!" Shireen exclaimed, her voice filled with admiration as she unfastened the sacks.
When she opened them, she discovered an unprecedented bounty: pastries and fruits she'd never seen before.
After bolting the door, Shireen ate while chatting with Drogon. When she finished, Drogon took out paper and pen and wrote a few lines. He asked her to tell Onion Knight Davos to take her to a designated location before dawn the next morning, where a ship would be waiting to pick her up.
Knowing she was leaving Dragonstone, the island she had grown up on, Shireen felt a pang of sadness. After talking with Drogon for a while longer, she went to find Davos. The day passed quickly.
As dawn broke the next morning, Davos knocked on Shireen's door as promised. Her clothes and books were already packed. After a lingering glance at her small room and Drogon hiding under the bed, she followed Davos out.
Once they were gone, Drogon emerged from under the bed, opened the small window, and flew toward the meeting point.
Davos, carrying the luggage, quietly skirted the patrolling guards and made his way to the back of Dragonstone, where the shallow water prevented large ships from docking.
As soon as they reached the shore, a small boat rowed toward them from the distance, indicating he had been waiting for a long time.
Only one man was in the boat, with a simple, honest face, a sturdy build, and sun-darkened skin—clearly someone who spent his life at sea.
The burly man nodded at Davos. Davos carefully helped Shireen board the boat, which then began rowing west. Shireen, her small face tense, glanced back at Dragonstone and waved goodbye to Davos.
As Dragonstone gradually receded, Shireen looked up at the sky. A tiny black dot was closely following the boat.
*At least Drogon is with me,* she reassured herself.
After boarding, Shireen thanked the boatman and asked where he was from. Finding him taciturn, she didn't press further and pulled out a book to read.
Three hours later, an island roughly the size of Dragonstone appeared on the horizon—their destination, High Tide Island.
Skipping the island's dock, the boat landed on a remote, barren beach. The burly man helped Shireen with her luggage, his brow furrowed as he surveyed the desolate, rocky surroundings. He couldn't understand why the person who had sent him here would leave a young girl in such a place.
And to leave immediately after dropping her off... Even if he felt uneasy, he had no choice but to obey. As the man prepared to depart, Shireen thanked him again and glanced at the sky with a hint of anticipation.
The burly man, seeing Shireen left alone on the desolate beach without any fear, and even appearing somewhat pleased, couldn't help but glance curiously at the sky. A seabird was circling overhead. He remembered that same bird had been following his ship all the way here, and the little girl often glanced at it between reading her book.
Pushing the doubt aside, he bid farewell to Shireen and rowed toward the other side of High Tide Island.
Once the small boat had drifted far enough, Drogon landed on the ground.
"How much longer until the large ship arrives? This place is so desolate," Shireen said, looking around. She felt a flicker of fear at being left alone here.
Drogon didn't answer but instead flapped his wings at her.
"Are you telling me to move away?" Shireen, long accustomed to Drogon's gestures, recognized this wasn't a goodbye.
She retreated a few steps, puzzled. When Drogon flapped his wings again, she took a few more steps back.
Seeing the distance was sufficient, Drogon expended a bit of magic to transform.
*Poof!*
Shireen's vision blurred for an instant, and a colossal creature materialized before her. Startled, she stumbled backward several steps.
Her mouth fell open, and her wide eyes blinked several times before she finally accepted the reality: a dragon as large as the earlier boat was now glaring at her with eyes like blazing flames.
"Drogon... is it really you?" Shireen still couldn't quite believe it, seeing Drogon suddenly transform from a tiny creature into a massive dragon.
When Drogon nodded, Shireen asked excitedly, "I've never read in any book about dragons being able to shrink. How did you do that?"
Before, Shireen had noticed that Drogon never seemed to grow larger and worried he might be ill. The books she'd read mentioned some dragons with stunted growth, their heads only growing to the size of an apple.
She never imagined that Drogon wasn't sick at all, but could actually change size—it was a wonderful surprise.
Drogon lay down on the ground, spreading his wings to form a staircase, and looked at Shireen.
"Can I really ride you?" Shireen asked, her voice filled with wonder at his gesture.
She had always loved books about Aegon the Conqueror, especially the illustrations of him riding dragons into battle. She had often fantasized about riding a dragon herself, but never thought she would truly have the chance.
With trembling hands, she grabbed her pack and carefully stepped onto the crimson wings. After a wobbly ascent, she found herself on Drogon's back, stroking the gleaming scales. For a moment, she didn't know where to sit.
-----------------------
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