The sun beat down mercilessly on the plains outside Yunkai, but the air was filled with the sounds of life returning. Freed slaves moved in long lines, carrying sacks of grain and bundles of cloth distributed under Daenerys's orders. Laughter and grateful murmurs rose here and there, a fragile kind of hope taking root in soil that had known only chains.
Daenerys walked among them, her silver-gold hair braided with tiny bells that chimed softly with each step. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan flanked her, their armor dusty from the long march and the work of the day.
"The distribution is going better than expected, Your Grace," Ser Barristan said, his voice calm and measured.
"The Unsullied have kept order, and the freedmen are helping one another. There have been few disputes."
Daenerys nodded, her violet eyes scanning the crowd.
"Good. I will not have them starve after tasting freedom. See that extra grain is set aside for the children and the elderly."
Ser Jorah's eyes never left her. "Khaleesi," he said, voice low, "you tire yourself too much. You must rest."
"I am their mother," Dany replied quietly, her gaze sweeping the square. "And I must see their faces. Know that what we've done has meaning."
Barristan Selmy chuckled softly. "Aye, my queen. But even kings and queens need a pause. Even dragons must rest."
Ser Jorah grunted in agreement, though his eyes never stopped moving, always watchful.
"They call you Mhysa already. Word spreads faster than we can ride."
A small smile touched Daenerys's lips.
"Words are wind, Ser Jorah. Actions matter more. If we can give them food, shelter, and safety… then perhaps they will believe in something more than fear."
As they walked farther from the main lines, the sound of children's laughter drifted toward them. A group of freed slave children, some no older than five or six, were playing in a dusty clearing near a cluster of makeshift tents.
They chased one another, kicking a worn leather ball, their voices bright against the harsh sun.
Daenerys slowed, her gaze softening as she watched them.
Then she saw him.
Among the children was Rhaego. He was taller now than most of the children his age.
His white hair caught the sunlight like fresh snow, small black horns just visible beneath the messy strands. His tail flicked behind him as he ran, and his small wings still growing but already strong enough to flutter, were half-spread for balance as he kicked the ball to another child.
Viserion, the size of a large dog now, bounded beside him, pale scales gleaming. The dragon chirped happily, nuzzling at Rhaego's side whenever the boy paused.
Daenerys stopped walking. A gentle smile curved her lips.
"Look at him," she said softly, almost to herself. "He's… playing. Like any other child."
Ser Jorah's expression softened, though his voice remained gruff. "He's grown fast, Khaleesi. Taller than most boys his age. But he still finds time for this."
Ser Barristan nodded, a rare warmth in his eyes. "It is good for him. Even a dragon's son needs moments of childhood. The world will demand much from him soon enough."
Daenerys watched as Rhaego laughed. A bright, boyish sound and tore off a piece of dried meat from a pouch at his belt.
He offered it to the other children, guiding their small hands toward Viserion.
"Here," Rhaego said, his voice carrying on the breeze.
"Hold it flat. Viserion won't bite."
The children giggled nervously as Viserion gently took the meat from their palms, his tongue flicking out. One brave girl even reached out to touch the dragon's smooth scales.
Rhaego grinned and spread his own small wings a little wider, showing them off.
"See? Mine are smaller than his, but they work the same," he told them proudly.
"Want to feel?"
The children crowded closer, curious fingers brushing his wings and the tip of his tail. Rhaego stood patiently, chest puffed out, clearly enjoying the attention.
Daenerys's smile deepened, a quiet warmth blooming in her chest. For a moment, she allowed herself to see not the prince who would one day ride beside her to war, but simply her son.. happy, playful, surrounded by children who did not fear his strangeness.
"He looks… free," she murmured.
Ser Jorah glanced at her. "He is, for now. Let him have this while he can."
But the peaceful moment shattered.
A sudden whoosh of air and a dark shadow passed overhead. Drogon landed heavily near the group, his black scales gleaming. The children scattered with frightened cries as the largest dragon snatched the remaining piece of meat from one boy's hand.
Rhaego huffed, his childlike frustration clear. "Drogon! That was for Viserion! You have your own food!"
Drogon growled, tail flicking. The boy leaned forward, scolding, voice fierce despite his small size.
"Give it back! You know it's not yours!"
And then, without warning, Drogon spat a brief jet of fire. A flicker, sharp and quick, licked the air around Rhaego. Smoke swirled and curled.
Daenerys's heart lurched. She broke into a run, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan close behind.
"Rhaego!"she shouted, sprinting forward, panic rising in her chest.
Smoke rose. The children screamed.
When the smoke cleared, Rhaego stood butt-naked in the dust, his clothes burned away in patches. His small horns and scales were untouched, his skin unblemished. He looked more annoyed than hurt.
He swatted Drogon on the snout with his bare hand. "Bad! You burned my clothes, you oversized lizard! Mother just made those!"
Drogon snorted and flicked his tail, looking almost smug.
The children, realizing Rhaego was unharmed, burst into loud laughter, pointing at the naked boy scolding a dragon twice his size.
Daenerys reached them, breathless, her eyes wide with lingering fear that quickly melted into exasperated relief.
"Rhaego!" she said, half-scolding, as she quickly wrapped her own cloak around him.
"You frightened me half to death," she said, voice trembling with relief. Her hands smoothed over his hair, brushing ash from his cheeks.
"What have I told you about letting the dragons near the children when they're excited?"
Rhaego pouted, clutching the cloak around his waist. "I was being careful! Drogon's the one who's greedy!"
Viserion chirped innocently from behind him, as if to say he had done nothing wrong.
Ser Jorah exhaled heavily, running a hand over his bearded face. "One day, Your Grace, these dragons will test you far beyond charred clothes."
Barristan Selmy's lips twitched in amusement. "Aye. But for now… it seems the boy can hold his own."
Dany's violet eyes softened, watching Rhaego giggle as he ruffled the smaller children's hair.
"He is bold," she murmured. "Like his father… or like me."
Ser Jorah coughed to hide a chuckle. Ser Barristan simply shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Daenerys knelt, brushing soot from Rhaego's cheek with her thumb.
"You are lucky your scales protect you," she said, voice softening.
"But the other children do not have them. You must be more careful, my flame."
Rhaego looked down, kicking at the dirt. "Sorry, Mother."
She pulled him into a quick hug, cloak and all, then stood, glancing at the laughing children and the two dragons now watching with mild curiosity.
"Come," she said, taking his hand. "Let's find you new clothes before you scandalize the entire camp."
As they walked away, Rhaego turned back toward the children. He waved with his free hand, a bright grin breaking across his face despite the scolding.
"Bye! I'll play again tomorrow if Mother lets me!" he called.
The children waved back, still giggling. Viserion chirped and bounded after them for a few steps before Drogon gave a low rumble and took to the sky with a powerful beat of his wings, disappearing into the haze above the plains.
Daenerys glanced at her son, her expression a mix of fondness and gentle exasperation.
"You and the dragons," she murmured. "One day they will listen to you better than they listen to me."
Rhaego looked up at her, tail flicking beneath the cloak. "They listen when it matters, Mother. Mostly."
Ser Jorah gave a low chuckle. "Mostly," he echoed.
Daenerys shook her head, but she couldn't quite hide her smile.
For a moment, in the dust and sunlight of Yunkai, a dragon prince was simply a boy again, scolded by his mother, surrounded by friends, and learning that even dragons sometimes had to share.