A Dragon Fate

Chapter 8: Stealing

Three years later:

Vermithor with the already familiar rumble landed on the ground. I unfastened the straps on my saddle and slowly descended the wing of my dragon. The first thing I did after the descent was take off my helmet.

For this years i'm already used to the constant lack of sleep and food. But i just hate that fucking helmet. He suffocates me every time. The worst thing in this is that i no longer feel the gusts of wind on my face in flight.

And also my hair. My beautiful hair. Once it was amazingly smooth with nice curls. It's still manageable and i pray that I don't have to cut it even more than for my own life. Every time i got the chance, i combed my hair and re-braided it. Sometimes i look at what Daemon turned his hair into over time and i felt sick.

I have already gone through the stage of anger and cursing the day i agreed to this. So now I'm just going to the meeting table.

The soldiers around me are no longer embarrassed by the woman in the war, although in the beginning it was a problem. I filled up several caves in the mountains, lived and fought on a par with them, and then they calmed down. We had three dragons but only Vermithor had enough power to destroy part of the mountain. Thank him. On this protracted war, everyone is too busy with the desire to survive, and therefore the soldiers accept help for what it is.

I go to the table hearing another dispute.

"If King's Landing will not support Daemon, why should any of us?" Vaemond shouted to the crowd.

This is starting to piss me off. I'm not a Daemon's protector. Even if our relationship has become a little better, i think this is only in order not to stir up conflicts. We're the decisive force and we must work together to win. But Vaemond... Oh yes, i even gave him a mental nickname 'cunt' for the fact that he does nothing and is most indignant.

The Sea Snake comes close to his brother whispering something to him. Vaemond calms down. Thank gods and Corlys for this.

I put my helmet on the table and take off my gloves. Steps are heard behind me.

"If you do not seize control of this war, my lord, the crabs will soon dine on all of us" Vaemond said. Oh, really? I thought we might be in limbo for a couple more years.

I notice Daemon to my right. His gloves appear next to my things. I turn my head to watch him take off his helmet. The helmet goes after the gloves. Daemon turns to me and nods slightly. I do the same in return.

After years it became a kind of ritual. 'Good morning although it could be better'. 'I'm tired too, it's okay'. 'Thank you for not dying in another battle'. I look into his eyes, the same as my own, and calm down a little. Mutual understanding helps.

"Prince Daemon" someone on the side said. We all turn to the voice. It's a messenger. "I bring word from His Grace, Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm"

He hands Daemon a folded letter. Daemon reads with a bored expression. He raises his eyebrows, then folds the letter in half and hands it to me. I'm surprised.

I unfold the letter while Daemon is leaning on the table with his hands.

"Brother," the king wrote. "I have ordered ten ships and two thousand men to set sail from King's Landing to join the effort in the Stepstones" suddenly, Daemon turns around with his helmet in hand and starts hitting the messenger with it. The men are shocked and tell him to stop, but i keep reading. "Though time and circumstance have seen us estranged, know that it is not my desire to see you fall in your cause. It is instead my hope that this aid will deliver i shall pray nightly to the gods for your safe return"