[(The Red Keep's courtyard basks in afternoon sunlight as King Aegon VI and Queen Rhaella watch the last sails of Daeron's fleet disappear into Blackwater Bay. Fenrir and Tiamat circle lazily overhead, their shadows dancing across the cobblestones.)]
Rhaella: (sighing) "Nine grandchildren now, and not a single dragon egg among them. What do you suppose our ancestors would say about that?"
Aegon VI: (watching the dragons) "Probably something about ungrateful descendants who can't even manage proper dragon matchmaking."
Rhaella: (elbowing him) "I'm serious. It took Fenrir and Tiamat eighteen years to produce eggs. Our children's dragons have been flying together for nearly a decade with no results."
Aegon VI: (stroking his beard) "Perhaps they're waiting for more dramatic circumstances. You'll recall ours finally mated during a rebellion."
Rhaella: (dryly) "Shall we start another war then? For the sake of our grandchildren's inheritance?"
(Nearby, a servant drops a tray with a clatter. Both monarchs ignore it.)
Aegon VI: "There's still time. Daenerys is only seven - her Rhaegal could still produce eggs. And Viserys' Viserion shows... enthusiasm."
Rhaella: (raising an eyebrow) "Enthusiasm? That beast nearly set the Dragonpit aflame last week trying to impress Smaug."
Aegon VI: (chuckling) "Well, Daemon's dragon always was the more... reserved one."
(A distant roar echoes as Fenrir swoops low over the bay, scattering gulls.)
Rhaella: (watching the dragons) "Do you ever wonder if we made a mistake? Letting so many dragons return to the world?"
Aegon VI: (quietly) "Every day. But better our house controls them than... other alternatives."
(They stand in comfortable silence, the weight of crowns and dragonfire resting lightly between them. Scene fades on the dragons' distant silhouettes, the question of future eggs - and future riders - still circling unanswered in the evening air)
[(The windswept courtyard of Dragonstone echoes with the thunderous arrival of Drogon, his massive wings kicking up sea spray as Prince Daeron dismounts. Nearby, Princess Elia's ship docks, her Martell banners fluttering beside Targaryen colors. The blended Targaryen-Martell children stand waiting - Baelon, tall for his age with his father's sternness; Maekar, already carrying himself like a young lord; Rhaenys, every inch her mother's daughter; and little Myrcella clinging to a servant's skirts.)]
Prince Baelon: (crossing arms) "Father. You're late. The maesters said you'd arrive yesterday."
Prince Daeron: (ruffling his heir's hair) "Blame your stepmother. She insisted on stopping at every port between here and Highgarden to sample 'local delicacies'."
Princess Elia: (disembarking) "I was being diplomatic. Unlike some people who just glare at lords until they agree with them." (kisses Rhaenys' forehead) "How's my fierce girl?"
Princess Rhaenys: (smirking) "Better now that you're back. Grandfather's been having me practice High Valyrian conjugations until my tongue cramps."
(A servant approaches carrying squirming toddler Myrcella, who reaches for Daeron with jam-covered hands.)
Prince Maekar: (dodging sticky fingers) "She's been like this since you left. Cries whenever anyone mentions lions."
Prince Daeron: (hoisting Myrcella up) "Well that's one Lannister trait she didn't inherit." (noticing someone missing) "Where's Aegon?"
Princess Rhaenys: (rolling eyes) "Being broody in his new castle. Sent a raven saying he's 'restructuring the irrigation systems' which probably means he's hiding in the library."
(Drogon sneezes, nearly knocking over a suit of armor. Elia eyes the dragon warily.)
Princess Elia: "We brought a... guest. Robert Arryn will be joining our household."
Prince Baelon: (blinking) "Jon Arryn's son? The one whose father lost the Vale because-"
Prince Daeron: (sharp look) "The very same. He'll be squiring for Ser Barristan. And before you ask - no, you can't put snakes in his bed."
Prince Maekar: (grinning) "What about his boots?
Princess Rhaenys: (ignoring them) "Mother, is this about keeping Elbert Arryn safe in the Vale?"
Princess Elia: (smiling proudly) "Clever girl. One hostage ensures good behavior from both branches of House Arryn."
(A distant horn sounds as a ship bearing Arryn colors enters the harbor. Myrcella chooses this moment to smear jam in Daeron's hair.)
Prince Daeron: (sighing) "Welcome home."
[Scene fades on the chaotic family reunion, the dragons circling overhead as a very seasick Robert Arryn is helped onto the dock, his future in the viper's nest of Dragonstone just beginning.]
[(The Dragonstone courtyard buzzes with activity as servants unload supplies from Elia's ship. Robert Arryn, pale and still unsteady from the voyage, stands awkwardly beside his trunks. The Targaryen-Martell children form a semi-circle around him with varying degrees of curiosity.)]
Prince Baelon: (extending a hand) "Welcome to Dragonstone, Robert. Don't mind the skulls - they're mostly decorative."
Robert Arryn: (weak handshake) "Mostly?"
Princess Rhaenys: (smirking) "The ones that still have flesh get fed to the dragons."
(Robert pales further as Maekar snickers. Myrcella toddles over to poke at Robert's fancy boots.)
Prince Daeron: (lifting Myrcella away) "Ignore them. You'll be treated fairly here - provided you don't try to climb out any Moon Doors."
Elia Martell: (handing Robert a cup of ginger tea) "We've arranged for you to visit your cousin Elbert in the Vale twice yearly. Assuming your father behaves."
Robert: (perking up) "Truly?"
Prince Maekar: (grinning) "Oh yes. Father loves making political gestures that sound generous but are actually threats."
(Daeron shoots Maekar a warning look before turning back to Robert.)
Prince Daeron: "Speaking of visits - we'll be traveling to Drawncrest soon to see Prince Aegon. You'll accompany us."
Princess Rhaenys: (brightening) "Aegon's actually keeping his library organized? Miracles never cease."
Prince Baelon: (to Robert) "Our half-brother. Well, Rhaenys' full brother. It's... complicated."
Robert: (nodding sagely) "Like how my uncle Ronnel is now Lord of the Vale but my father was supposed to-"
Elia: (quickly interrupting) "Yes, exactly like that. More tea?"
(Myrcella chooses this moment to plop into Robert's lap, staring up at him with wide green eyes.)
Myrcella: "You shiny."
Prince Maekar: (laughing) "She's not wrong. Those Arryn cloak pins are excessive."
Prince Daeron: (checking the sky) "We leave for Drawncrest in three days. Robert, you'll ride with the squires. Try not to fall off your horse - the roads are steep and the dragons find tumbling humans amusing."
(Drogon, as if on cue, lets out a smoky chuff from his perch.)
Robert: (gulping) "Dragons. Right. Of course."
Princess Rhaenys: (patting his shoulder) "Don't worry. If you do fall, just aim for bushes. I speak from experience."
[Scene fades on Robert's overwhelmed expression as Myrcella begins braiding his cloak ties into elaborate knots, the Dragonstone household continuing its chaotic rhythm around the newest addition.]
[(The royal common room is bathed in the warm glow of the evening hearth. King Aegon VI slumps in his chair, rubbing his temples as he reviews tax ledgers, while Queen Rhaella meticulously counts coins from the treasury. The peaceful silence is shattered as the doors burst open and a small silver-haired tornado storms in.)]
Princess Daenerys: (flopping dramatically onto a couch) "I'm DYING of boredom! And loneliness! Possibly scurvy!"
Queen Rhaella: (not looking up from her coins) "Scurvy requires citrus deficiency, darling. You had lemon cakes for breakfast."
King Aegon VI: (peering over parchment) "And you terrorized three maids, two squires, and a very confused guard today. Hardly a lonely existence."
Daenerys: (rolling across couch cushions) "But Viserys was supposed to take me dragonriding before he left! And Daemon promised to teach me Dornish water dancing! And Daeron said-"
Aegon VI: (holding up a hand) "Let me guess - everyone made promises before remembering they have actual responsibilities?"
(Daenerys responds by letting out an impressively long whine that makes Fenrir stir in the dragonpit below.)
Rhaella: (finally looking up) "Darling, why don't you play with Rhaegal? He's been moping since you stopped bringing him kitchen scraps."
Daenerys: (sitting up indignantly) "Because Septa Mordane says 'proper ladies don't play with dragons in the conservatory!'" (muttering) "Even when the dragon is very careful about not burning the tapestries..."
Aegon VI: (snorting) "Tell Septa Mordane that proper ladies also don't throw tantrums that can be heard in Dorne."
(Daenerys responds by dramatically draping herself over her father's desk, scattering parchments everywhere.)
Rhaella: (brightening) "I know! You could help me with the treasury reports! Nothing cures boredom like counting coppers from Gulltown!"
Daenerys: (horrified gasp) "Mother! That's CRUEL!"
Aegon VI: (hiding a smile) "Your sister Alyssa loved numbers at your age."
Daenerys: "Alyssa also enjoys raw onions and Stannis Baratheon's company. She's not to be trusted."
(Just as Rhaella opens her mouth to respond, a crash echoes from the hallway followed by shouting. All three Targaryens pause, listening.)
Guardsman: (distantly) "PRINCESS DAENERYS' DRAGON IS IN THE KITCHENS AGAIN-"
Daenerys: (suddenly very still) "...I may have forgotten to feed Rhaegal his afternoon snack."
Aegon VI: (pinching nose) "And suddenly your loneliness problem is solved, as you'll be spending the next week confined to your chambers."
Daenerys: (grinning as she bolts for the door) "Worth it! Last one to the kitchens has to explain the missing ham!"
(She darts out as her parents exchange looks. Another crash shakes the walls.)
Rhaella: (sighing) "She gets this from your side."
Aegon VI: (watching coins roll across the floor) "At least we know she'll never actually be lonely. Not with that dragon."
[Scene fades on the sounds of culinary chaos, the distinct smell of slightly burnt pork wafting through the halls.]