King's Landing II

Within the hallowed chamber of the Dragonpit, Damian's presence remained steadfast as he stood before the majestic form of Silverwing. The dragon's silver scales glinted softly in the dim light, a symphony of shadows and gleam that seemed to resonate with the enigmatic being that stood before her.

As Damian's steps brought him closer, Silverwing's head turned slightly, her gaze upon him unyielding yet contemplative. A low, guttural growl rumbled deep within her throat, a sound that resonated with both power and curiosity.

Damian's voice was a calm, soothing presence amidst the echoes of the Dragonpit. "Fear not, Silverwing. I mean you no harm."

The dragon's gaze seemed to pierce through him, her senses attuned to his every movement. Slowly, she began to lower her massive head, her snout inching closer to Damian. The air was heavy with tension, a delicate balance between caution and curiosity.

With deliberate yet gentle movements, Damian extended his hand, his fingers hovering just inches from Silverwing's snout. His eyes met hers, a connection that spoke of understanding and respect. "You sense it, don't you? A connection that goes beyond the surface, a recognition of shared essence."

And then, as if the very air had shifted, Silverwing's demeanour seemed to soften. The tension that had held her taut slowly ebbed away, replaced by a sense of affinity that shimmered in her eyes. Her growl transformed into a rumbling purr, a sound that resonated with acceptance and trust.

In an act of profound symbolism, Silverwing lowered her massive head further, her snout finally coming to rest against Damian's outstretched hand. The touch was a connection, a bridge between two worlds that had once seemed separate. Damian's heart quickened as he felt the warmth of Silverwing's breath against his skin, the sensation of an unspoken bond that transcended language.

With a touch as tender as it was momentous, Damian's fingers brushed against Silverwing's snout, a gesture that conveyed both reverence and camaraderie. "Dear Silverwing," he spoke, his voice a murmur that seemed to resonate through their shared connection, "we are kindred spirits, you and I."

The dragon's eyes held a glimmer of understanding, a silent affirmation that seemed to resonate deep within Damian's core. And yet, despite the connection that had been forged, Damian's touch lingered for but a moment before he withdrew his hand.

He stepped back, his gaze meeting Silverwing's once more. "Though I may be a friend, Silverwing, I cannot be your rider. The path we tread is one of influence, of shaping the world from the shadows, not of dominion over creatures of might."

As if in acknowledgement of his words, Silverwing's head inclined slightly, her gaze unwavering yet contemplative. The unspoken exchange between them carried a weight that extended beyond the physical realm, a testament to the understanding that had been shared.

With a final, lingering look at the dragon, Damian turned and began his ascent from the depths of the Dragonpit. The echoes of their encounter seemed to reverberate through his very being, a connection that would endure through the annals of time.

Emerging from the ancient structure, Damian found that the sun had set, leaving the city of King's Landing cloaked in the embrace of night. The stars above twinkled like distant candles, their light casting an ethereal glow upon the city's intricate architecture.

As Damian gazed upon the cityscape, a sense of purpose burned within him, a fire that mirrored the flames that danced within the heart of the Dragonpit. The path ahead was one of intrigue and complexity, a journey that would be guided not by the reins of dragons, but by the strength of Damian's will.

...

Amidst the bustling docks of King's Landing, Evelyn moved with purpose, her presence commanding attention even amidst the flurry of activity. She approached a group of merchants who were huddled together, their voices mingling in a symphony of commerce and intrigue. With a measured smile, she extended a greeting, her tone polite yet laced with a subtle air of authority.

"Good day, gentlemen," Evelyn began, her eyes meeting theirs with a hint of intrigue. "I couldn't help but overhear your discussion. It seems you're well-versed in the city's maritime affairs."

The merchants regarded her with a mix of curiosity and respect, their shrewd gazes assessing the woman before them. One among them, a portly man with a grizzled beard, nodded in acknowledgement. "Aye, milady. We've seen our fair share of ships come and go."

Evelyn's smile remained affable as she continued, "I've heard whispers of a naval merchant who might be facing some financial troubles. Word has it that he's planning to auction off his ships today. Is there any truth to this?"

The portly merchant exchanged a knowing glance with his companions before turning his attention back to Evelyn. "Well, you're not far off, milady. There's talk that Captain Redwald, the naval merchant in question, has found himself in a rather dire situation. Debts have a way of catching up to a man, you see."

Evelyn's interest was piqued, her gaze unwavering. "And where might one find this auction, good sir?"

The merchant leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've heard tell that Captain Redwald plans to hold the auction right here at the docks, come evening. A desperate man will go to great lengths to salvage what he can."

Evelyn's lips curved in a subtle smile, gratitude evident in her eyes. "Thank you for sharing this information, kind sirs. Your insights have proven invaluable."

As she turned to leave, the portly merchant offered a parting word of caution. "Mind you, milady, the world of maritime dealings can be treacherous. Be cautious in your endeavours."

Evelyn nodded appreciatively. "Rest assured, I shall tread with caution. May fortune favour us all."

With that, she walked away from the group of merchants, her thoughts consumed by the information she had gleaned. The prospect of a ship auction presented a unique opportunity—one that could potentially bolster their resources and further their clandestine efforts.

With that, she departed from the docks with the intention of returning in the evening, for now, she needed to wander for other things. Chief amongst her concerns was the purchase of a residence for when her Lord returned to the docks he certainly won't be retiring to the ship again. 'Damian did say that he wanted a house in flea bottom not one that is grand or extravagant which will mostly be used as a base for covert operations and an official residence as close as possible to the docks. Maybe starting the merchant business is best after all.'