As she entered the dark, gloomy keep of Dragonstone, she hid well under the hood of her cloak—walking through the halls, her heels clicked against the hard stones, her sighs sounding too loud for her own ears. Finding herself in an unfamiliar corridor, she lowered her head and tried to walk confidently, her heart beating like war drums against her ribs. Suddenly, her forehead bumped into hard, broad planes of steel and she looked up wide-eyed, only to be met with the most unexpected and terrible red eyes.

"Ah.. Spy. You are more than stupid if you think this may work on me."

Her hands shook as she tried to play normal. "No, I am no spy-"

"No servants of this place wear darkened grey. I have memorized them all and their attire. You do not fool anyone, pesty girl."

Before she could defend herself further, a hand rose suddenly and struck her delicate neck, knocking her out cold in mere moments as if she was a frail porcelain doll.

Endless moments later, no one had counted how many hours might have passed. Dizzyly opening her eyes, she found herself chained against rough, cold cavern stones, and before her face loomed the snarling maw of a dragon. The beast's hot breaths washed over her face, warming it instantly and making her cringe at the foul smell. "Caraxes is a hungry leal monster. He dines on what is offered to his bloody teeth," the dark timbre of Daemon's voice echoed in the dimly-lit cavern. She heard boots thudding against stone until a broad, looming figure draped in black armor approached.

"Who are you, who fucking sent you, girl? Or do I have to beat it so damningly out of your pretty little mouth?" Daemon stood over her chained frame, his red eyes gazing into her wide ones as Caraxes breathed beside him, almost mirroring his demanding aura.