Dance of The Dragonwolf Chapter 34 (The Storm) (Patreon)

Daemon

In the early morning hours, just as the sun began to cast its gentle glow on the world, a servant sent by his brother roused Daemon from his peaceful slumber. Stirring in his comfortable bed, a mix of annoyance and reluctance washed over him; groans and growls escaped his mouth. Yet, his duty called, and after a moment of deliberation, he resolved to make his way to the Small Council Chamber. Mysaria couldn't accompany him last night, so he had slept alone; the bed had felt colder, he was used to sleeping alone, but last night his bed felt somewhat colder than usual.

Daemon knew there was nothing between him and Mysaria; they were two simple 'friends' enjoying each other's company. Pleasure of flesh was a good way to spend time together; it helped him to feel relieved and not think about anything for hours; it helped him to escape the World and just feel pleasure.

As he walked upstairs, Daemon wondered what Lyanna would say if she saw him like this. His mouth still reeked of alcohol, but he hadn't drunk much, not enough to make himself drunk, just enough to clear his head. Lyanna once told him that she didn't like it when he drank too much. Eventually, Daemon stopped, and he promised never to get drunk again. And Daemon kept that promise and would continue to do so.

As he took a turn, he saw a group of ladies gossiping to one another loudly; they were servants, he could tell from their clothes.

"All Healed, how could have that happened?"

"No one knows, the Red Lady; I heard people talk of her and the dark priest with her."

Daemon briefly wondered what they were discussing but decided to ignore them; servants and ladies in the Red Keep loved to gossip about everything; it was like they couldn't survive the day if they didn't discuss someone else's business. Daemon concluded they were probably talking about a new healer in King's Landing; it was not the first time the City had one of these. Men and women who traveled from far away, claiming they had ways of helping people, were almost always just liars, trying to win some gold by fooling people.

Daemon soon entered the Small Council Chamber; unlike yesterday, everyone else had already arrived there.

"Good morrow, your grace." Daemon greeted, but his brother simply motioned for him to sit down; he knew something must have happened. Everyone around the table seemed nervous and a little anxious, besides his grandmother, who kept her head high as always.

"What started this meeting so early in the morrow?" Daemon eventually questioned; he wanted to know right away if something had happened to his son.

"Last night, there was an attack on the Faith of the Seven," Otto answered grimly before the King could; he seemed like a rat whose tail was caught in the trap. Daemon tried but failed not to smile smugly, but he quickly placed his hand over his mouth, trying to hide it, but Otto and his big brother seemed to have noticed.

"Daemon, don't make fun of the Seven that are one. This attack is an attack to Westeros, not just the Faith itself." His brother scolded him; Daemon almost rolled his eyes. The Faith was nothing but a mistake; Magor might have been a madman, but what he did to Faith was something he agreed with.

"Please, brother. Tell me what our precious Faith has suffered; don't tell me their tails got caught in the mouse trap." Daemon joked openly with a widening smile. Otto seemed like someone who had just been slapped in the face.

"Prince Daemon, the Faith is important to Westeros. Every day, thousands of people pray to the Seven, and this tradition has been followed for thousands of years; it's important to show respect. Your own grandfather, King Jaehaerys, was a great supporter of the Faith." The Maester spoke with his old voice; he sounded like an old man rambling in his sleep. Daemon was ready to throw some insults; he was never a believer and understood its importance but never thought much of it. As he prepared to say something, he noticed his grandmother glaring at him. Daemon closed his mouth; she always told him to be more secretive, especially in the Small Council.

"I apologise, Grand Maester Runciter. The Faith is important, and no one should make fun of it, not ever." Daemon almost spat the words, the Old Maester's chains clinking softly as he sat back on the chair, his hands knitting atop his stomach.

"Now, Otto, what is this attack you speak of?" His brother questioned, sounding concerned. Daemon wondered why; Viserys was never a man of prayer and Faith; they were Dragons and were above the simple people. The Faith of the Seven was nothing but a seven-star with different colors, a good decoration for a public toilet.

"Words came to me that late at night, a Red Priestess of the Red God from Volantis was using illusions on poor and defenseless people of the City, taking their money in exchange for trickery. When the holy brothers of the true Faith tried to get a stop to it, five guards that were with the Red Woman fought against the holy brothers of the Faith, and one of them was killed. The Red Lady and her guards escaped." Otto informed with a grim voice; his words made the others around the table look displeased and angry; even Viserys had a visible frown on his face.

"Gods be good." the old Maester murmured under his breath.

"Lord Hand, might I know who is your informer?" Former Queen Alysanne's voice cut through the silence like Valyrian steel. Daemon had to admit that despite her age, her voice was still firm and commanding, like that of a true Queen. Otto seemed puzzled by the question; an uneasy smile formed on his face. Daemon was sure he could see the sweat on his forehead. Can he melt like Ice? Daemon wondered with a smug smile.

"My informer is someone I trust fully. They have informed me since I became Hand of the King, your grace." Otto answered with a confident smile. Daemon wondered who this spy was; the thought of this spy informing Otto about Aenar made Daemon's blood boil.

"Is that true?" Queen Alysanne stopped mid-sentence as she pulled a scroll from underneath her sleeve before reading it aloud, her anger mounting with every word, but she could keep herself perfectly in control.

"Your grace?" Otto questioned; now, his voice was shaking.

"My informer told me The Red Lady was helping a few sick people for free. My men asked people, and they all reported the same. A dying child, three name days, was healed by the Red Lady. A woman was healed, too, including four other people. When their help attracted attention. Eventually, five Holy Brothers caught sight of the Red Lady and tried to have her imprisoned while shouting 'inappropriate' comments about what they would do to her. I don't think a Holy Brother should say such words, don't you agree, Lord Hand?" Queen Alysanne questioned sharply, looking at the man like he was just a small bug. Otto nodded, his lips pressed into a fine, thin line.

"As for the unfortunate death of the Holy Brother. He attacked one of the guards of the Red Lady with a hammer, the man defended himself. But that's still murder, and as such, the guard will be captured and judged accordingly." The Former Queen spoke, her eyes looking at Lord Hightower, who had fallen silent.

"Your informer was wrong because what happened is being discussed all around King's Landing; how many times have you given the King false information, Lord Hand?" Her voice was suddenly threatening as she glared at the man, but Otto didn't seem bothered by her threat.

"What is discussed between commoners are different versions, Your grace. You know as well as I do that Commoners tend to exaggerate; if everything that came out of their mouths was true, then Prince Aenar would be capable of turning into a Dragon. King Jaehaerys would still be alive, and so on." Otto said with a fake smile. The Queen was ready to ask more. She didn't want something like this to be brushed off like dirt.

"Enough. I don't care which version is true. The Red Faith is not welcomed in Westeros. I want her out of my Realm." Viserys interrupted, speaking firmly as he slapped his hands on the table, looking mainly at his brother since he was the commander of the City Watch.

"I will try to find her, but I need her description," Daemon said. He already knew his brother would rely on him to find the woman.

"You will have it. I won't have The Seven be insulted in my Realm." Viserys said almost passionately; his words got approved by the others, especially Otto, whose face brightened up.

Daemon looked at his brother, a little perplexed; he was never a man of the Faith, so why the sudden passion about it? He understood why Otto Cunttower was a friend of the Seven, but he didn't understand his brother's sudden desire to speak so passionately about them.

Lady Alicent met him yesterday; Daemon suddenly remembered. The Kingsguard guarding the King yesterday had reported to Queen Alysanne. Lady Alicent had told him that Lady Alicent had tried to order a Kingsguard. Daemon had hoped his brother would know not to trust the girl, but it seemed his brother was more of a fool, and now he was speaking of the Faith of the Seven as if they were allies.

After more speaking about the upcoming Tourney. Daemon somehow kept himself awake until a soldier walked inside.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, your grace, but House Stark has arrived."

Aenar

The flag of House Stark, featuring a Direwolf against a pristine white field, soared proudly above the other flags. As it gracefully danced in the wind, it became a mesmerizing sight amidst the sea of flags below it. The sheer size of their carriage further accentuated their grandeur, making the party of House Stark the center of everyone's attention, especially when Dreamfyre flew over King's Landing; her presence drew the attention of Cannibal, who lifted his head up just to look at the new Dragon before resting his head against his legs that were like a giant pillow for him.

Aenar knew Cannibal had checked to see if the new dragon was dangerous to him; upon seeing that Dreamfyre wasn't, he simply fell asleep again. The only dragons that made him stay awake and ready to fight if it was needed were Vhagar and Vermithor, and the only one Cannibal considered somehow a friend, a dragon he allowed to be near him and even rarely share food, was Caraxes.

Aenar had walked out the moment Ser Elric informed him the carriage of House Stark was seen approaching. Rhaenyra had quickly followed him; Laena was busy with her lady mother, and he hadn't seen her much today.

Lord Rickon Stark commanded attention as he gallantly advanced on his white steed, his head held high with an air of confidence. With his sturdy physique and powerful presence, he resembled a bear in stature, boasting broad and imposing shoulders that befit a true leader. Adorned on his waist was the glistening Valyrian Steel Sword of House Stark named Ice.

Accompanying Lord Stark were his two children, who rode beside him with innocence and excitement gleaming in their eyes. Alongside the children rode Aunt Gael. The boy seemed like he wanted his horse to ride faster, but Lord Stark was there to stop him from riding ahead.

"Father, this is bullshit. They ride dragons. Are you telling me they will get scared by horses?" His words draw a round of laughter from the Northern lords around him. Aenar chuckled at his words, but his smile died when he saw the Bolton Banner. The man who he suspected to be Lord Bolton looked like a ghost; his skin was extremely pale, and the man looked like a walking corpse; his eyeballs had sunk deep into his eyes sockets as if someone had pushed them inside.

"Brother, be quiet you silly. You got scared by a cat!" A girl rode beside the boy whom Aenar knew to be his cousin, Cregan Stark; the girl looked nothing like her brother; her pony was crimson with white spots, one on its right eye.

Cregan had the Stark looks; he had the long face of the Starks. He has dark brown hair and grey eyes, so dark they almost seem black. He has a lean build.

His sister had long silver hair and dark purple eyes, and following her pony was a small direwolf, the same as Cregan's direwolf, who seemed older. Ghost's ears perked up at seeing approaching Direwolves, but he instantly growled when a familiar Direwolf approached. Night, the same dire wolf that had attacked Ghost years ago, he had grown, now standing two and a half meters tall; he looked like a giant Direwolf, his fur glittered under the sun, and his dark eyes felt like an abyss looking back at him.

Night growled back at Ghost. "Gods be Good." Aenar heard someone say as the Stark carriage stopped before them. Unlike House Stark, the other Northern Houses would need to find a place to stay within King's Landing. Only the Lord Paramount of Westeros were allowed inside the Red Keep.

Night eyed Ghost, who growled at him; the white dire wolf stepped forward, but Aenar quickly held him; he knew Ghost wasn't ready to fight someone like Night; that dire wolf was massive and strong.

"Enough." A voice shouted as a man wearing Stark armor approached the giant dire wolf, who growled back at the man. Aenar quickly recognized his Uncle, who suddenly said something in the Old Tongue, Bennard Stark. Night reluctantly sat down while Daemon kept his hand on the pommel of his sword.

"This direwolf is not allowed inside, Lord Stark," Daemon commanded, looking at Bennard warily, who smiled dismissively; before looking at Night, Aenar heard him say something in the Old Tongue again; the giant Direwolf reluctantly ran away, but not before looking at Ghost, with a cold glare.

"How did that beast become yours? That Direwolf attacked my son." Daemon demanded once the Direwolf ran away. He wasn't happy to have a direwolf like Night anywhere near King's Landing, but he knew Cannibal and Caraxes could easily burn him to ash.

"We fought, that's how. I stabbed his leg during a hunting trip when he attacked me, and then I stabbed him in the stomach, and I had the opportunity to kill him, but a Stark kills no Direwolf, or bad luck follows the House. Instead, I helped him get back on his feet and treated his wounds, and now he is my direwolf." Bennard explained as he showed his shoulder bore the mark of a vicious wound, where a chunk of his skin had been torn away, leaving behind a ghastly void. Adjacent to this haunting injury, his upper left chest bore a deep slash, cruelly parting the flesh and revealing the starkness of the bone beneath. Bennard's left hand was bereft of two fingers. Half of his left ear had been severed, leaving a jagged edge.

Rhaenyra shuddered at the sight of the wounds.

Lord Stark stepped forward with Cregan, who seemed eager to talk since he was quite jumpy; Aenar was ready to greet his Uncle.

"Prince Aenar, is it true that you eat dragons just like Cannibal?" Cregan yelled out before anyone could say anything.

Aenar burst out laughing; his father chuckled at the ridiculous question, while Lord Stark looked down at his son, annoyed, before slapping him on the back of the head, earning a groan from his son.

"Forgive my son, Your Grace. It's an honor to meet you again." Lord Stark said with a genuine smile. Aenar shook his hand. The man seemed older, but he looked larger and stronger.

His aunt stepped forward; she looked the same as he remembered, if not more beautiful than before. "Aunt Gael, I missed you," Aenar said, hugging her in front of everyone, as did Rhaenyra; he kissed her cheeks, and his aunt giggled as she greeted her family.

"It's good to meet you all. Aenar, you have grown handsome." His aunt said with a teasing smile before addressing Rhaenyra.

"Aunt Gael, it's good to have you here. Has gotten quite boring around here." Nyra said teasingly while her eyes looked at Aenar.

"Boring? Are you telling me that I'm boring you?" Aenar said, sounding shocked while holding his heart with his hand; Nyra giggled cutely, as did his aunt.

"Well, you are not fun anymore, Aenar. You need to do something new to entertain me." Rhaenyra further teased; her words made Aenar charmingly smile at her, a smile that made her feel funny.

"Entertain you?" Aenar whispered as his voice lowered enough so only she would hear him. "I might have a few ideas, my dear Princess, but I don't think this is the place." Rhaenyra shuddered, especially at the way his breath tickled her ear.

Gael couldn't help but smile joyfully, knowing her niece had already found someone. Young love was rare, but she was happy for her; she hoped nothing bad would happen. Good things tend to go bad way too fast in their House.

"My dear, you have grown beautiful. I'm sure many want your hand in marriage, perhaps even a Prince." Aunt Gael teased as she hugged Rhaenyra, who blushed at the thought; her eyes flickered at Aenar, who was approached by Cregan and whom they all assumed to be his sister.

"Nephew, this is my son and heir." "Cregan Stark. The Most Fearsome Wolf In the North." Cregan yelled out before his father could finish. Lord Stark looked embarrassed, placing his hand on his son's shoulder; he pinched his shoulder just hard enough for his son to wince in pain.

"Forgive my son, your grace. He knows not when to shut up." Lord Stark apologized, looking at both Aenar and Daemon. Soon, the girl stepped forward, holding a small dire wolf in her arms; the dire wolf was crimson, with smooth white lines across its back.

"My name is Sara Stark, your graces. It's an honor to meet you." She said with courtesy, bowing her head respectfully. "Forgive my big brother, your graces. He was dropped in the head when he was a baby." She added with a smirk; her smirk reminded Aenar of Arya whenever she messed with Sansa.

"Hey!" Cregan yelled out, suddenly embarrassed.

"I wasn't drop in the head, I'm simply smarter than you."

"By smart, you mean when you thought that jumping from the tower while believing that you can become a Dragon." Sara quickly retorted, looking at her little brother as if he had grown two heads.

"It would have worked if you hadn't stopped me." Cregan quickly defended himself.

"Alright, Enough you two." Lord Stark shouted before pinching both of their ears. Sara mocked her big brother by making silly faces while Cregan groaned in annoyance.

Aenar couldn't help but enjoy their antics; it reminded him of when he used to play around with Robb and sometimes even with Arya when she did something stupid.

Their walk inside the Red Keep was loud; it seemed his cousins were quite loud, despite being only ten name days and Sara being nine name days. "Cousin, is it true that your dragon eats Dornishmen every day?" Cregan yelled the question; it seemed his cousin was way too loud for his own good.

"Of course not silly. Dragons almost never eat people, they are too little for them, not enough meat, but they might decide to make an exception for you when you go to the Dragon Pit." Sara interjected on the discussion before Aenar could give a proper answer.

"Shut it, Sara. When I finally have my dragon, I will fly all the way to the moon." Cregan said proudly, puffing out his chest while pointing at the sky. Aenar could hear Rhaenyra giggle at their discussion while Sara shook her head, almost like a disappointed parent.

"Moon? What will you two eat up there? Rocks? And didn't you say you would start your own kingdom in Braavos? What happened to that? You can't have both the Moon and Braavos." Sara answered casually, as if Cregan was stupid and she was trying to explain to him something very simple to understand.

"Well, as long as I'm far away from you, then I won't have a problem." Aenar thought that was a bit far, but Sara simply giggled as if it was an inside joke between the two, something they understood.

"Far away from me, no, you love me too much for that." Sara teased with a smile that only grew when Cregan looked away from her while rolling his eyes before looking up at Aenar.

"Cousin, when can we go to the Dragon Pit? I want to have a Dragon. Pretty Please." Cregan pleaded with puppy eyes; Aenar expected a similar plea from Sara, but for the first time, she seemed reluctant to say anything. Instead, she grabbed her puppy dire wolf and hugged him tightly; she almost seemed afraid as she walked back to her mother.

Aenar had already talked with the King, and his Uncle had permitted Cregan and Sara to have a Dragon, much to Lord Hand's disappointment, who had tried to change his mind, but it seemed it fell on deaf ears.

"Sure, we can ride to the Dragon Pit once you are both well rested. There, you can find your own Dragons or Dragon Eggs." Aenar agreed, following them and keeping guard; Elric smiled in appreciation.

"I don't think Sara will come." Cregan suddenly said, sounding sad as his eyes flickered at his sister, holding their mother's hand.

"Why?" Aenar was confused. Only now did he remember that Elric had not mentioned Sara getting a Dragon, but only Cregan.

"Sara... is afraid of Dragons."

"Why is she afraid?" Rhaenyra asked, sounding confused, who had been listening to their conversation.

"I - don't know, but she's afraid of them, she even fears Dreamfyre. She always runs away or starts shaking whenever she is nearby." Cregan explained with a downcast look.

Eventually, after two hours of resting, the squires prepared the horses for his two cousins to ride to the Dragon Pit, but Aenar noticed that Sara didn't seem as enthusiastic as Cregan at the thought of going to the Dragon Pit until, eventually, she told them that she wasn't coming with them.

"I will stay here, Cregan. You can go with them and choose your dragon, but don't get too close like you do with Dreamfyre." Cregan rolled his eyes; his sister always told him not to do this or that; whenever he would get too close to Dreamfyre, his sister would shout at him from away to not get too close without their mother's presence, but Dreamfyre was never bothered by him, if anything she was happy every time he visited her, with or without mother.

"Who are you? My mother? I won't get close and Aenar will be with me." Cregan said with annoyance as they both mounted their horses, with a Kingsguard and five soldiers accompanying them.

"Sara, are you sure you don't want to go?" Rhaenyra asked the little girl again, wanting to make sure she wouldn't regret her decision later; having a dragon and eventually flying was a feeling that every Targaryen sought out, so the Realm's Delight couldn't understand why the little Stark-Targaryen girl was refusing the opportunity to have her own dragon.

"They will burn me!" Sara screamed with fear before running inside. Rhaenyra called out her name, but the little girl refused to listen and ran away.

Aenar

"This is the Dragon Pit!" Cregan said in slight awe.

The Dragonpit is a huge domed castle at the crown of Rhaenys's Hill. The main gate consisted of massive doors, mainly bronze with some iron, and were so wide that thirty knights could ride through it at once. The building's walls were thick, and the roof strong.

A huge dome was constructed above the pit. Benches, which can seat eighty thousand, were located in the pit itself.

Within the structure, long brick-lined tunnels have been dug deep into the hillside, fashioned like caves, five times as large as the dragon's lairs on Dragonstone. Beneath the dome, there were forty huge undervaults that had been carved in a great ring. These man-made caves were closed off at both sides by thick iron doors. The inner doors opened on the sands of the pit itself, and the outer doors opened to the hillside.

"Northerners would have done a better job," Cregan couldn't help but add much to Aenar's amusement; as they both rode inside the dome, the watchers of the Dragons allowed them entrance inside, and they dismounted their horses and walked inside.

"What do they feed the Dragons with? Prisoners right?" Cregan asked excitedly as he jumped around; the thought of having his own Dragon brought him great joy. He had dreamed of flying his own dragon for so long. He had experienced flying with his mother whenever she flew Dreamfyre, but his mother always described the feeling of flying with your own dragon as something almost magical that couldn't be experienced with someone else's dragon. So Cregan had been looking forward to it for a very long time.

Aenar chuckled as he nudged him to walk forward. "No. King Jaehaerys made a law that forbids feeding prisoners to the Dragons." Aenar explained as they walked deeper into the Dragon Pit.

"Why?"

"Because Dragons are power, and people are afraid of them, and if we start feeding prisoners to them, many people will be afraid that the Dragons will start liking the taste of human meat more than that of a boar, deer, bear, or other big wild animals. When you get your dragon, always feed him animals that are not usually kept in the Castle you rule over. If you feed him horses or dogs, there's a chance the dragon will attack the horses or dogs of the Castle. So always feed him animals from the wild, but feeding him fish is the best option." Aenar explained as they walked deeper into the Dragon Pit.

Dragon after dragon, they all breathed fire or roared in a threatening way the moment Cregan tried to approach them. After many failed attempts, Aenar tried to encourage him that there would be a dragon who would accept him.

Eventually, after three hours, they checked every untamed Dragon in the Dragon Pit, and none accepted Cregan. The walk back outside was silent; all the enthusiasm had disappeared from Cregan's face. He spoke nothing, and his face was blank. Aenar tried again to encourage him again, telling him there was a Dragon out there for him. They just had to find it.

Suddenly, Cregan changed direction and ran to another cave. "Cregan!" Aenar shouted as he started running after him; he hoped a Dragon didn't occupy the cave he was entering. Aenar turned right and saw Cregan crouching. He looked around, but there was no dragon in sight.

"Don't run off like that again." Aenar scolded, breathing a sigh of relief; Cregan stood up and turned to face him, holding two Dragon Eggs in his arms, one silver, one gold, their scales glittering despite the cave's darkness.

"Sara will take the gold one. The silver one is mine."

The Red Lady

"Thank you, my Lady. How can we reward you?" The woman's eyes filled with relief and gratitude, whispered with a trembling voice as tears continuously streamed down her cheeks while she tenderly pressed her lips against Kinvara's hands. An immense sense of relief washed over her as she realized that the fever plaguing the child had vanished entirely, allowing the little one to breathe with newfound ease. Moved by the profound joy in the room, Kinvara's lips curled into a gentle smile, expressing her warmth and compassion. She gently caressed the child's head, feeling the baby's soft breaths and witnessing how they became more peaceful and undisturbed.

"My name is Kinvara, and you can reward me by spreading those words. The Seven had done nothing, but there are people who care. Spread the words. The Faith of the Seven is not the True One." Kinvara said, handing the woman a medallion, a golden coin, and carved into it was a dragon spreading its wings on the sky.

"I Will Spread the Word."