Grey Ghost had pressed her entire length into the back wall of the cavern, pale scales scraping stone as she curled in on herself. Wings, tail, and neck were all drawn tight, as though she meant to sink into the rock itself and vanish. In the dim glow of the lair, the wild dragon looked less like a terror of the skies and more like a frightened creature cornered with nowhere left to flee.
"…Is she truly this timid?"
Baelon stared at the sight before him, words slipping out before he could stop them. For a moment, he forgot the danger, forgot the soldiers behind him, forgot even the dragon beneath him. He had known Grey Ghost was shy by dragon standards. The histories spoke of her as elusive, seldom seen, more rumor than beast.
But this was something else entirely.
She trembled.
Baelon drew a slow breath, steadying himself. "Easy," he murmured, lowering his voice as if speaking to a skittish horse. "Slowly. Do not frighten her."
He lifted one hand and gestured downward, fingers spreading in a calming signal.
tyraxes answered with a low rumble from its chest. The great dragon's wings flexed, membranes whispering against the cavern air, and its head tilted slightly toward Baelon. The golden eyes that glanced back at him were distinctly unimpressed.
That little gray thing would not last a heartbeat against a single strike of its claws.
A standoff, of all things.
Still, tyraxes obeyed.
With a controlled beat of its wings, the dragon descended, landing on the far side of the cavern. Stone cracked softly beneath its weight. It positioned itself squarely across from Grey Ghost, body angled forward, tail coiled with casual menace. A single disdainful glance passed from tyraxes to the cowering dragon before it lowered its massive frame and allowed Baelon to slide down from the saddle.
Baelon's boots touched stone.
His first instinct was not to look at Grey Ghost, nor at tyraxes, but to turn immediately toward the woman behind him.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
Helaena Targaryen stood a few steps back, pale hair falling loose over her shoulders. She seemed composed, almost eerily calm, as she always was. She met Baelon's gaze and shook her head once.
"I am unharmed," she said, lifting a hand to gesture toward the cavern mouth. "One of the soldiers lost his footing. He fell."
Baelon closed his eyes briefly. A breath left him, heavy but relieved. "As long as you are safe."
He opened his eyes again and looked past her, taking in the rest of the party. Dragonkeepers clutched their staffs, soldiers stood rigid with spears in hand. All of them looked shaken.
"And the rest of you?" Baelon asked.
"Your Highness, we are unharmed," they answered at once, voices hurried and uneven. More than a few stared at him with open surprise. Princes were not known for asking after the safety of common men.
Baelon inclined his head. "Good."
He turned back toward the lair and raised his voice just enough to carry.
"Withdraw," he ordered. "Leave this wild dragon to me."
No one questioned him. With tyraxes looming behind Baelon, jaws half parted and breath steaming faintly, none of them were eager to remain. Helaena hesitated only a moment before stepping back, her gaze lingering on Grey Ghost with quiet curiosity, then she followed the others out.
Once the cavern was empty but for dragons and prince, Grey Ghost reacted at once.
She spread her wings wide, membranes snapping open with a sharp sound. Her body lifted, puffing herself up, chest expanding as she tried to appear larger than she truly was. Her pale eyes fixed on Baelon, unblinking.
A warning.
Do not come closer.
Baelon stopped where he was and raised his hands, palms open.
"Dohaeris," he said softly.
The High Valyrian word echoed gently off the stone. Be calm.
He did not look away from Grey Ghost as he spoke again, this time to tyraxes. With a small motion of his fingers, he gestured backward.
tyraxes huffed, smoke curling from its nostrils, but it shifted its weight and took several heavy steps back. The space between predator and prey widened.
Grey Ghost noticed.
Her wings shuddered, then slowly folded back against her sides. The tension in her body eased by a fraction. She glanced toward tyraxes, then back to Baelon, lowering her head slightly as she regarded the human standing alone before her.
"Ying…?"
The sound was soft, uncertain. Her head tilted, long neck bending at an angle that would have been almost curious, had she been anything other than a dragon.
She inhaled.
The scent drifting from Baelon reached her, and something within her stilled. There was dragon on him, strong and undeniable, but beneath it lay something else. Warm. Faintly sweet. Familiar in a way she could not name.
Grey Ghost's head dipped lower. Her body sank closer to the stone, posture easing into a clear sign of submission. Non-aggression.
tyraxes, for its part, did not relax. Its muscles remained bunched, tail twitching once. Its gaze never left Grey Ghost.
At the slightest provocation, it would strike.
Grey Ghost extended her head slowly, inch by inch, toward Baelon.
Sniff.
Sniff.
Her nostrils flared, wide and cavernous. Baelon held his ground, though his mouth tightened as hot breath washed over his face. He lifted a hand to cover his nose, grimacing despite himself.
"…Your breath is strong," he muttered.
Grey Ghost did not seem offended. If anything, she leaned closer. Her eyes slid shut, lids lowering in evident pleasure. Her tail began to sway lazily behind her, hips shifting as she lowered herself fully to the ground.
Then, with surprising gentleness, she nudged her head sideways and rubbed the smooth curve of her cheek against Baelon's shoulder.
Baelon stiffened.
Slowly, carefully, he raised a hand and laid it against her scales.
They were cool. Smooth. Finer than he had expected.
…Nicer than tyraxes's, if he was being honest.
tyraxes roared.
The sound was sudden and sharp, filling the cavern with thunder. Grey Ghost jolted, half lifting her head, eyes snapping open.
Baelon turned his head sharply. "Easy," he said at once, switching back into High Valyrian. "No danger."
He kept his hand on Grey Ghost's neck, fingers moving in a slow, steady stroke. Her breathing evened out again, tension bleeding from her frame.
He looked up at her massive head, pale eyes watching him closely.
"In a few days," Baelon said quietly, "you will come with me to Harrenhal. I will have a nest built for you. A proper one."
He did not say why, but the thought burned in his mind all the same.
In the original story, Grey Ghost had died screaming beneath Sunfyre's flames.
He would not allow that fate again.
Harrenhal was vast, cursed perhaps, but strong. There was space there, food enough, and freedom from the chains of the Dragonpit. Dragons could grow there. Truly grow.
Grey Ghost had proven once that even fear could give way to courage when it mattered.
Baelon liked her.
She reminded him, oddly, of the cat he had kept in his previous life. Timid, affectionate, easily startled, yet fiercely loyal once trust was given.
House Targaryen had always loved dragons more than sense.
Baelon was no exception.
"Ying-ying," Grey Ghost chirped softly.
She glanced once more at tyraxes, then shifted obediently, moving behind Baelon's dragon as if drawn there by instinct. A strange, deep sense of submission settled within her. She did not understand it, only that it felt right.
tyraxes snorted and lowered its body, inviting Baelon to mount.
Baelon climbed into the saddle. As tyraxes leapt into the air, wings beating hard, he looked back once more.
Grey Ghost rose after them, pale form slipping into the sky, following at a careful distance.
"Stay here for now," Baelon called as they circled once. "When I leave Dragonstone, you will return to Harrenhal with me."
"Ying," Grey Ghost answered.
Then she turned and vanished back into the shadows of her lair.
Baelon urged tyraxes onward, eyes turning toward the distant castle.
"Come," he murmured, a faint smile touching his lips. "Let us find Helaena. I wonder which dragon will choose her."
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A/N: If you think you know what comes next… you don't. The answers are already waiting ahead.
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