Prince's Landing

24th Day of the 8th Moon, King's Landing, Midday.

It had been quite some time since Laenor last visited King's Landing, and at no time previous had he ever seen a sight quite like the one he enjoyed now. Standing on the balcony of The Golden Lance, a cup of tea in hand, he gazed down at the street with genuine joy dancing in his eyes. There was a good sized crowd gathered to witness the unique oddity. He had hoped for more people of course, more who would see it, would mean more who would discuss it, and the faster word would make it's way to his mother.

He longed for that conversation with Visaera, and became almost giddy when he imagined the various shades of red her skin would turn as battled to control her rage. He felt like a child again, so eager for her admonishment, only so he could be a cheeky in return.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" He thought she might growl at him. It was always something silly like that, that authoritative people fell back to when they were irritated beyond reason.

He prayed to every God he knew and a few he didn't that his Mother would grace him with those words, so he could smile at her, and tell her the entire truth.

Something Very Expensive.

He had half suspected, that there were be casualties. Havoc in the streets. Bloody screams, and burning buildings. He had assumed the skies of King's Landing would be filled with a smoke, heavy with the fat of slow orphans and brave knights. Initially, he was almost disappointed that things hadn't turned out horribly, but now he had to admit that this was a much preferred outcome.

The minstrel came easy enough, he had enough talent to suffice, and perhaps enough reputation to draw more eyes.

The women were a more difficult acquisition. Since, arriving this morning in King's Landing, they'd been turned away from 3 brothels, before finally finding a proper one that was willing to risk a disturbance in foot traffic, and the lives of it's employees for an extra charge.

The trouble had been well worth it.

Laenor watched carefully as the three whores used a near endless supply of buckets filled with hot water to wet Starfyre's scales before they began to scrub her in earnest.

Maesters still argued the finer points of Dragon care, but Laenor had never actually been able to hear one of their debates without feeling drowsy, nor did he have any interest in reading about such a dull subject, instead, he discovered on all his own, that no matter what other dragons might favor, Starfyre enjoyed excess.

For all of her independence, for all of her reputation as a wild and free beast, she liked being pampered.

So much so, that the three women crawling over her, thoroughly cleaning her in the middle of the street, as a minstrel sang 'The Bear and The Maiden Fair', wasn't something she was against.

She had even laid down to allow her servants ease in reaching certain spots, half closing her eyes in enjoyment of the attention. The low hisses issuing from her throat, reminders to the whores and all the onlookers that at any moment she could leap up in rage and destroy them with but a thought, came with less frequency.

Laenor wasn't certain if Starfyre knew that some peoples would worship her as a Goddess, but he was pretty sure that she wouldn't callously turn away any that might, provided they offered her a reasonably extravagant tribute.

It amazed him how much he had in common with his newly won dragon.

"Do you speak the common tongue?" He asked, not taking his eyes off his Lady, savoring the sight of how much she enjoyed her bath. "Or any language other than shrieks and labored horse shit reeking breaths?" He wondered of the young Dothraki woman standing behind him.

It wasn't wise of course, for a man standing on a balcony, or any high up place to turn his back on a whore, but he felt that in this case, he was safe. The woman had no reason to wish him harm, yet, and no coin he had or would ever have could match the value of the Dragon below him on the street. So, if the brown bitch wanted his purse she was more than welcome to it. Even the small pack of belongings he brought from Dragonstone, the very few things he cared about in this world, could be for the whore's taking. He had what he wanted, and her name was Starfyre.

"Do you understand me?" He asked curiously, half turning to cast an eye upon her, but hesitating to entirely tear his gaze from his dragon. She didn't. He knew that much already. No one understood him, but they would, as soon as his Lady was cleaned and presentable, he would see to it that the world had a new understanding of Laenor Targaryen and his one true love.