"What do you think, Daenerys?" Rhaenys questioned as they rode toward the dragons.
Daenerys, who had been riding parallel to her, was taken completely by surprise. She still could not understand why Rhaenys was showing so much interest in her. Why was this woman, who barely even acknowledged Viserys, treating her so warmly? Despite Rhaenys taking Viserys out to the dragons so he could attempt to claim one, Daenerys did not believe for a second that Rhaenys actually respected or acknowledged him. She knew that Rhaenys' behaviour was giving an impression that she was accepting Viserys claim of the throne but she would not be sure. She knew it was all a facade.
"What about what, Lady Rhaenys?" She stammered.
"You know," Rhaenys drawled smoothly, "though I am older than you in age, technically, you are my aunt. It would be better if you called me simply Rhaenys."
"Ok!," Daenerys replied, utterly stupefied.
"And I was asking about the dragons," Rhaenys continued. "What do you think? Do you believe you could claim one for yourself? Are you as confident as your brother?"
Daenerys shook her head.
"No, Rhaenys," she said softly.
It felt strange and awkward for Daenerys to address the imposing woman merely by her name.
"I do not think I can claim a dragon," she remarked.
"And your brother? Do you think he can?" Rhaenys pressed.
'No', Daenerys thought inwardly.
"I am not sure," she replied aloud, keeping her gaze lowered. "He says he is the true dragon. He might have a chance. But, then again, claiming a dragon is no easy feat."
"Diplomatic," Rhaenys said with a little chuckle.
They traveled in silence for a few more minutes before Rhaenys shattered it once again.
"How has life been for you, Daenerys?" She asked softly. "I know it has been tough. It is perhaps a pointless question, but still, I wish to hear it from you."
Daenerys smiled. It was a bitter, fragile thing.
"It has indeed been tough," she admitted.
She did not wish to list her pains and sufferings; she did not want Rhaenys to think she was begging for sympathy. But there was one thing she was willing to share.
"We faced a lot of hardship," Daenerys continued. "Money was always our greatest issue. After Ser Willem Darry died, the servants stole most of our belongings and ran away. But we survived it. Life in Magister Illyrio's manse is comfortable now. I try not to fret over the past."
"But there is one thing that still hurts," she confessed, her voice dropping into a low, longing whisper.
"What is it?" Rhaenys asked.
"My mother's crown," Daenerys replied bitterly. "We had to sell it."
"I did hear about that," Rhaenys murmured.
"How was life for you?" Daenerys blurted out of nowhere. "I mean, I know you do not wish to share the details with my brother, but in general. Did you live a life full of hardship? Or comfort?"
"Compared to yours, my life was much easier," Rhaenys said plainly. "I grew up with my identity completely hidden. No one knew me as a Targaryen heiress, and thus, I was spared having a constant target on my back. Till I revealed myself to the world, I did not have the additional burden of the Targaryen name."
"I grew up in Braavos," she continued, a revelation that practically shocked Daenerys. "Before my saviour died, he arranged for me to work as a clerk at the Iron Bank."
"Even though I had my share of problems," she added, "worrying about food or a roof over my head was never one of them."
Daenerys could hardly believe that Rhaenys was so casually revealing things to her that she had fiercely deflected whenever Viserys brought them up.
"And the dragons?" She questioned instinctively. "When did you acquire them if you were working as a clerk?"
The moment the question left her lips, she realized she had probably crossed a boundary.
"I am sorry," she quickly apologized. "I did not mean to pry. I just blurted about it."
"It is fine," Rhaenys responded, waving a dismissive hand.
A brief silence settled between them, filled only by the rhythmic thud of hooves against the dirt.
"You know," Rhaenys sighed deeply, breaking the quiet. "To be completely honest, I can hardly take credit for hatching or claiming the dragons."
Daenerys's eyes widened in absolute shock. She could not believe it. Rhaenys could not take credit? Was there someone else behind the scenes? And who could it possibly be?
"If fate wills it," Rhaenys added cryptically. "You will surely learn more of it in due time."
Daenerys did not know what to say. She knew only one thing for certain. She would not breathe a single word of this to her brother. She possessed an instinctive certainty that Rhaenys had shared this information in confidence. And though she had not explicitly forbidden her from speaking of it, Daenerys knew keeping her silence was for the best. Viserys would be absolutely livid if he realized the special treatment Rhaenys was showing her.
"There they are," Rhaenys's words pulled Daenerys from her contemplative thoughts.
She lifted her gaze to look ahead, and instantly stilled. About two hundred meters from where they rode, there they lay. Five dragons. Five massive, terrifyingly beautiful dragons. They were sprawled across the grass just at the edge of the forest. The sheer area their colossal bodies were covering was enormous. The riders had to physically crane their necks from one end of the clearing to the other just to take all of them in.
They rode closer, bringing their horses to a cautious halt a few dozen meters away. The dragons were resting, barely moving save for the heavy, rhythmic rise and fall of their scaled chests.
Daenerys stared at the creatures in absolute awe. The feeling she had experienced the first time she had seen them in the sky over Pentos returned. It was a very faint, invisible connection. A thrumming pull deep within her blood. And no matter how much she tried to suppress or rationalize the feeling, she found it utterly impossible to ignore.
"They are magnificent!" She mumbled instinctively, her eyes wide in awe.
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