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The struggles of being on a battlefield for three years had begun to take its toll on Aemon

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The struggles of being on a battlefield for three years had begun to take its toll on Aemon. Every fiber of his being had been telling him to go home, to King's Landing, since he'd flown away. Just as Aemon had been apprehensive during this war, Vermithor had been the same. Perhaps it was the dragon's age that hindered him from being relaxed in any way or perhaps it was the inevitable reminders of his youth that was spent in battles for Dornish territories that caused Aemon to feel his dragon's stress radiate off of him and into his own body.

Aemon knew that Daemon was dragging his feet through this entire war. Had they come in in the first few weeks and burned the whole of the Crabfeeder's army down, they could have won, easily. But Daemon was here to prove a point and Corlys' reluctance to trust Daemon led their enemy forces to discover a way to counteract dragon fire, tunnels. This made their efforts even harder. The land advantage the Crabfeeder's forces held would only lead to slaughter on the other side.

One bright side of this whole thing was the amount of knowledge Aemon had gained in battle. All of the sword skill Daemon had trained in him had been put to use as well as the strategic knowledge that Lord Corlys had been able to impart. That was another benefit to Aemon's time in the Stepstones, Lord Corlys had grown to trust and respect him. His former hatred or despisement of him had lessened as they grew a mutual respect for each other. Corlys had begun to compliment Aemon on his level-headedness and his ability to strategize, saying that he had the best bits of Daemon's war-like mind except that he wasn't mad like his cousin.

Aemon took a good look at all the men he'd grown closer toward, the men he'd earned the respect of, the men he respected. The looks of hopelessness were clear, there seemed no way to win this war Daemon and Corlys had started at this point.  The men around the war table were bickering back and forth as they tried to find a good way to end this war before the Velaryons lost their navy and their finances. They needed a saving grace, what they needed was Viserys' help but Daemon's pride would never allow that.

The previous night's battle had resulted in slaughter as numerous soldiers on both sides fell to the fire of Caraxes. Daemon's recklessness and continued recklessness led to the discussion between Lord Corlys and Ser Vaemond. Aemon stared at the table as Lord Corlys spoke of their situation; "We have sixteen, perhaps eighteen seaworthy ships. Seven hundred foot, some sixty knights. Our food quickly dwindles, save for what we can fish from the sea." Aemon was seriously considering how much fish he'd consume after this was over. The taste was becoming unbearable at this point. "I would say we have a fortnight, mayhaps, a bit longer with strict rationing. I've made call for Driftmark to send more ships, but they will be weeks away. We are faltering and the Triarchy knows it. We must press the attack, continue sending the dragons."

"It's pointless father," Laenor added, another perk to this war, Aemon had gained a close friend through it with his close age to Laenor. "The Crabfeeder has created a chokepoint here, beyond these dunes." Laenor pointed to the map on the table. "Archers hold the high positions, foot soldiers hold the ground. We've strafed them on dragonback again and again,  but they retreat within the caves.

𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖂𝖆𝖗 ( house of the dragon )Where stories live. Discover now