DANY NAMES THE DRAGONS
They gathered near the ashes, the Dothraki surrounding them as if witnessing a holy ritual.
Daenerys stood barefoot, soot staining her skin, her silver-blonde hair glowing with reflected firelight.
She lifted the small green dragon first.
"Rhaegal," she whispered.
"After my brother Rhaegar—the man he should have been."
The dragon chirped softly, curling its tail around her wrist.
Next she picked up the black-and-red one.
"Drogon. After my sun-and-stars."
This one hissed proudly, wings snapping open.
Then the cream-and-gold hatchling climbed onto her shoulder.
"Viserion.
May he be kinder than the man he is named for."
Her voice wavered, but she held firm.
Finally… all eyes turned to the red dragon perched protectively on Leo's shoulder.
A creature the color of molten metal, scales like fresh-forged steel, eyes bright as burning rubies.
Daenerys met Leo's gaze, a soft smile forming.
"And the last…"
She touched the red hatchling gently.
"Born from your blood.
Your fire.
Your destiny."
The red dragon nuzzled her hand.
"I will name him… Pendragon.
The First of His Name."
The khalasar roared the word:
"PENDRAGON!
PENDRAGON!
PENDRAGON!"
Leo bowed his head—not in arrogance, but in acceptance.
A bloodline had awakened.
THE NAME THAT SHOOK THE WORLD
That night, a wind tore across Essos.
A whisper carried by sailors, merchants, spies, and terrified priests.
A single rumor—
but powerful enough to set the world trembling:
"The Pendragons have returned."
In Pentos
Illyrio Mopatis dropped his goblet.
"Impossible.
They were wiped out before Valyria rose."
Yet the fear in his eyes said something else:
What happens when the true dragonlords return?
In Qarth
The warlocks felt a spike of raw magical energy and began screaming.
In Braavos
The Kindly Man stirred.
"Old blood awakens.
The world shifts again."
The Iron Bank scribes raised one question:
Does this change the future of the realm?
In King's Landing
Varys froze mid-step as a little bird whispered in his ear:
"Four dragons…
and a man named Pendragon."
Varys closed his eyes.
"This… changes everything."
In the Red Keep
Cersei heard the rumor and dismissed it with a laugh—
but her fingers trembled around her cup.
"A man riding dragons?
Nonsense."
But Jaime Lannister, standing beside her, whispered:
"Not if the old stories are true.
Not if the Pendragons really existed."
Cersei went pale.
In Winterfell
Maester Luwin dropped an entire stack of ancient books.
"Ned… this name.
Pendragon.
It predates written history.
They were the first dragon riders."
Ned Stark felt a chill.
"Leo Pendragon…
who saved my son…
is tied to that line?"
He looked out toward the dark trees beyond the walls—
Where the shadow protector once walked.
THE WORLD REACTS TO A NEW PLAYER
For thousands of years, the Targaryens believed they were the last dragonlords.
Now the world realized:
They were wrong.
A rival house—older, deeper, forged in myth—had returned.
A man with a dragon of his own.
A man who walked into fire.
A man who carried a metal arm and a mystery deeper than magic.
A Pendragon.
And every power, every kingdom, every lord in the world asked the same question:
What does a Pendragon want?
And who will burn if he decides to take it?
THE SMALL COUNCIL CHAMBER — TENSION THICK AS OIL
Robert Baratheon slammed a letter onto the council table.
His face red, his breath heavy, his voice a storm.
"Ned.
What in the seven hells is this about a shadow man saving your crippled boy?
And what is this NAME I keep hearing—Pendragon?"
Ned stood calm, controlled, hiding the truth that could put Leo in danger.
Varys, Littlefinger, Renly, Pycelle—all of them leaned forward like vultures sensing blood.
Ned spoke carefully:
"Your Grace… a stranger helped my son.
A man of honor.
He asked for no reward."
Robert slammed his fist on the table.
"A STRANGER WHO HEALED A BROKEN SPINE?!
Maesters can't do that.
Magic can't do that.
But this… Pendragon can?"
The room went still.
Ned felt the weight of lies he could not tell.
VARYS SPEAKS
The spider finally opened his mouth.
"A thousand whispers speak of a man seen in the north…
One who moves like shadow, wearing metal on his arm,
and who carries a bloodline older than Valyria."
Littlefinger smirked.
"A man with dragons, they say.
Or at least… ties to them."
Robert's eyes widened.
"Dragons?
Don't play games with me.
That name—Pendragon—I've heard it before.
Old tales, older than the Targaryens…"
He turned back to Ned, desperate now.
"Tell me the truth.
Is he a threat?
Is he coming for my throne?"
The room froze.
Varys watched Ned closely.
Littlefinger watched for weakness.
Renly watched with curiosity.
Even Pycelle leaned in, sweat on his brow.
NED'S ANSWER
Ned spoke slowly.
"Your Grace…
Leo Pendragon saved my son's life.
Not for gold.
Not for favor.
Not for power.
If he wished to take your throne,
he would not hide in shadow.
He would already be marching with dragons at his back."
Silence.
Robert stared at him—nervous, uncertain, afraid of the supernatural he never understood.
Then he barked a bitter laugh.
"Seven hells…
First the Targaryen girl escapes me.
Now some ancient dragonlord walks the world again?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"Find him, Ned.
Find him before someone else does.
If he means peace, good.
If not…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
But he didn't need to.
AFTER THE MEETING — A PRIVATE WARNING
As Ned left the chamber, Varys drifted beside him like smoke.
"Lord Stark…
The king is frightened.
When frightened men sit thrones…
they do dangerous things."
Ned kept walking.
Varys continued:
"For your sake…
and for his…
you should find your shadow guardian quickly.
Before the wrong people do."
Ned said nothing.
But in his heart, he knew:
Leo Pendragon's return had already changed the game.
And the next move… would shake the realm.
Cersei Orders the Gold Cloaks to Find the "Man With the Metal Arm"
The moment Robert stormed out of the council chamber, Cersei Lannister swept in like a blade of ice.
She had heard everything.
Her voice was low, dangerous:
"A man who heals broken boys…
who carries a sword stronger than Valyrian steel…
and a name older than the Targaryens?
Find him.
Now."
The Captain of the Gold Cloaks bowed.
"What are your orders, Your Grace?"
Cersei's lips curled.
"Bring him to me alive.
If he resists…
kill him."
Posters went up in the alleys and taverns:
WANTED: The Shadow of the North
Armed, dangerous, identity concealed.
Metal arm. Moves unseen.
The hunt had begun.
C — Varys Sends His Spies North
Varys moved faster.
That very night, he sent his little birds through the city, into the ports, the brothels, the markets, whispering:
"Seek the one they call Shadow.
A man with a strange metal on his body.
Seen near Winterfell.
Unmatched with a blade."
Ships left for White Harbor.
Messengers rode for the Neck.
Spies slipped into the forests near the Broken Tower.
Varys did not trust Cersei.
He did not trust Robert.
He did not trust anyone.
But he knew one thing:
A Pendragon returning with dragons could unmake the world.
And Varys needed to know which side Leo belonged to.
E — Jaime Lannister Confronts Ned in Private
That evening, Jaime found Ned Stark alone in the godswood of the Red Keep.
The Kingslayer leaned against a weirwood root, smirking without humor.
"You have a talent, Stark," Jaime said.
"For stepping into trouble without moving your feet."
Ned didn't answer.
Jaime's voice dropped.
"I've heard the stories.
The 'Shadow of the North.'
A man who healed your boy… when no maester could."
He stepped closer, golden armor shining in the moonlight.
"Tell me the truth, Stark.
Who is he?
What is he?"
Ned stared at him, expression unreadable.
"If I knew," Ned lied,
"I would tell you he is no threat to your family."
Jaime scoffed.
"That's the problem, Stark.
You northerners believe magic and honor make men harmless."
He leaned in, eyes sharp.
"But I've learned something else entirely:
The most dangerous men…
are the ones who don't want thrones."
Ned said nothing.
But Jaime's final words lingered:
"Tell your shadow friend to stay hidden.
The queen is hunting him…
and she's far more dangerous than I am."
The Realm Is Now Moving Against Leo
Cersei's Gold Cloaks are actively searching for him.
Varys's spy network is sweeping the North.
Jaime now knows Leo exists—and suspects he's something more.
Everything was accelerating.
Leo's name wasn't a whisper anymore.
It was a storm.