Silver [Daenerys Targaryen Imagines]

Lost and Found

Daenerys Targaryen x Velaryon!fem!reader

Words : 4.8k+

Summary : One step forward, two steps backward.. Hopefully this time, no backwards steps were to be taken.

A/N : I completely rushed the ending. proofread is for the weak. if this doesn't make sense I didn't write it, my drunk ghost did.

requested by anon!

∵※∵

"Vis!" The sound of whistling filled the air, blowing through the high winds and dust that entered your eyes as the dragons flapped their wings, their calls resonating within the large field - melodies that made you feel home. Many would've deemed you mad; an insignificant person, calling upon Daenerys Targaryen's dragons, waiting for them to reach the lands before wasting mere seconds to roast you into their next meal - luckily, there weren't any eyes around to make such predictions.

Dragonstone was a sight to behold, a sacred place in the history of your house, and hers - the homeland of Targaryens, where dragons adorned the skies and their songs chimed in the nights. Just a fortnight ago, those days had returned as Daenerys stepped foot in her home, the place she was born in; the rightful bearer of the titles you never cared enough to memorize. All you did know, however, was that the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was a silver-haired lady, a Khaleesi that'd done great things so many, no other ruler could've survived it with their luxurious upbringings.

"Hi, you big goof." The golden scales gleamed in the sun, his snout nudging your shoulders with a little too much force, his frills flaring and a low purr thrumming from his chest when you patted in between his nose. "Had fun, huh?" Viserion let out a shriek, stomping his feet in emphasis as the other dragons landed behind him, their movements more relaxed and composed as they advanced towards you, the ground rumbling underneath your shoes.

You nodded along his 'story-telling' and smiled to yourself, your hand trailing down his perfectly coloured scales and a laugh escaped your throat when he made to snap at his brother who'd tried to steal an ounce of your attention. "Hey!" Shoving his head to the side - as much as you could, anyway - your eyes caught a glimpse of silver hair climbing down Drogon, her posture graceful even after riding in the sky with untamed creatures.

"Warming up quite well, aren't they?" Daenerys dragged her feet up the low hill you were perched on, the heavy winds doing nothing to ease her struggle just to get to your side. You offered her a hand that she took absently, the dragons observing their mother with little to no interest, mind already elsewhere; perhaps wondering about their dinner.

"They're incredible." She nodded in affirmation, eyes fixated on the way you visibly lightened up with them around, how your shoulders loosen and the tension leaves your build, how much more you spoke to her - in fact, she'd almost never heard you talk in public, sans the times when doors were locked and you were without the burdens of being her soldier.

It was one of the things she adored about you; how you conversed with the dragons as if they were not only sentient, but also more human than some could ever be. She was even more surprised when they answered back with the same enthusiasm you'd given them, if not more.

"Your great-grandparent rode dragons, didn't they?" Your mouth quirked up, chuckling as Viserion plopped down on his chest and laid his head on the ground, expecting you to do follow suit; and you did, turning your head with raised eyebrows when Daenerys stayed tall, awaiting her defeat before resting your back against his neck. It was almost as she was no more than an audience, her question (that she knew the answer to) carried away by the wind, yet you answered them anyway, albeit a little late.