It was still early when he woke up that day, the sun barely rising above the waves of the Blackwater. For a few moments, he didn't know where he was — not in the cabin he shared with his brother, not in Driftmark, not with the scent of fish and fresh clam invading his nostrils like a reminder of who he was.

The chambers were too clean, too pristine despite the black walls that decorated the place. Pillars rose above, creating shadows as the fabric of silk curtains waved in the wind. Here, in Dragonstone, he could almost find himself wishing to sleep for a few more hours. He knew he could, but even then...

Addam rose with a groan, joints protesting slightly. The muscles in his legs burned from riding a dragon, and he still had to get used to the idea that he wasn't going to forage crabs and clams for dinner that day.

The mattress was too soft, the carpet too prickly, the breeze too... too nice. None of this was easy to get used to, this... turn from nothing to everything. He was now an important man, a knight in the eyes of the rightful queen. A dragon rider.

He got dressed slowly, enjoying the fabric of his new clothes. They were unlike the patched pieces of poorly sewn together tunics and breeches that threatened to fall apart at the slightest movement. His boots were made of legitimate leather, and he stopped to stare at the new belt that had been gifted to him with the emblem of House Targaryen.

After a few moments of consideration, he chose to slide it on.

The hallways were empty, save for a few servants running back and forth, some lords who didn't spare him another glance — now, this was something that hadn't changed, even now when he had a dragon to call his own... though he had never chosen to ride Seasmoke.

Dragonstone was a maze, and after minutes of wandering, he stumbled upon the gardens. Beautiful, with gargoyles that resembled dragons made out of obsidian, a statue of Aegon the Conqueror standing tall atop a fountain.

Stunning.

Addam stopped by the fountain, running his fingers lightly over the small waves of rushing water. He closed his eyes, and if he tried hard enough, he could almost imagine himself back in Hull, surrounded by sea, crabs, ships, sardine and his brother.

His gaze flicked up when he heard the sound of footsteps on cobblestone, and when he caught sight of your figure, he offered you a somber smile. There were a few heartbeats of silence before he spoke.

"I never thought..." his words faltered, soft, holding too much weight and emotions. "I never thought I'd be in a place like this, if I'm honest. Is it always this... beautiful, in the morning?"