The True and The Brave

𝔖𝔦𝔵: 𝔇𝔯𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨

Aemma had flown for over five hours, Seafyre flapping her wings to accumulate velocity and swiftness. Seafyre was more than formidable. Only in the two years, she spent in Winterfell, she grew. She reckoned that she was already bigger than Meleys. It would make her father proud, that the beast only grew.

She yearned for her father's love. She could not wait to reunite with him and tell him everything she had seen, everything she had learned. She was thankful for the peaceful years in Winterfell. She by no means considered herself a seasoned warrior, but the master of arms, Jereme Cassel had taught her how to wield a sword. She would have paid any type of price to see Ser Jereme fight and properly defeat Ser Criston. Whilst the South had preferred jousting and tourneys, the North had warriors that were bred specifically for war and protecting, not out of entertainment.

Emma soon saw in the distance what she presumed was High Tide. She had never been to Driftmark, but the stories that her father told her had done the place no justice. Rumbling waves that crashed upon massive quartz stones held the castle away from storms, but it was the peaceful bays that called her attention. There was beauty in the turmoil that was Driftmark. It called to her, the sea foam and the beautiful cliffs that overlooked the vast ocean. It was her home. The home she had been denied time after time.

She flew over High Tide, seeing ships bearing the Targaryen sigil, and then in one of the main balconies a melee of people. She recognized them by their stark white hair. Rhaenys was the first one to see the dragon who had made no sound other than the distant flapping of wings. She smirked at the view. Her granddaughter was here, and with a formidable dragon.

The realm will go into war, Rhaenys knew, but with her dragon at their side, the war could be easily turned. It wasn't the particular size of the dragon, but the ability to not only withstand fire better, but the proclivity it had towards the sea, toppling down large fleets from below.

From nearby, Corlys halted his conversation, also looking upwards as the great shadow approached, almost camouflaging with the clouds. Seafyre.

It seemed prudent to dismount her dragon in one of the clearings near the castle. She did not want her presence to disturb the wake after her aunt's funeral. It didn't seem right. 

However, over the looming hill, she had just descended stood rested Vhagar. Her breath ceased as Seafyre tensed, sauntering closer to her rider, sensing the presence of the older she-dragon. Vhagar was massive. Seafyre was big enough already at only ten years of age, but Vhagar could cause a whole town's eclipse if she wanted to.

"Lykyri, Vhagar. Lykyri", Aemma pleaded, as the she-dragon relentlessly walked closer. Seafyre bared her teeth, snarling menacingly. The girl only mumbled soft Valyrian words under her breath, remembering what her father told her.

It seemed that Vhagar was startled, moving her head as if in a daze. The skin that hung from its chin moved and groaned. Emma gulped, taking a step backward. Seafyre let out a whine of protest, taking a step forward.

"Seafyre, no. Dohāerās"

But to avail, Seafyre crept closer. She took a second to compare their build. Seafyre was a slender dragon, long, almost like a wyrm. But not as long as Caraxes. But what stood out to Emma was the wings. Vhagar had immense wings that held power with every strike, but Seafyre had softened membranes, almost fin-like. This allowed the Seafyre to swim easily and let the wind carry her rather than forcing the wind to run through her wings.

She let out a breath when Vaghar bowed its head to Seafyre, a sign of mutual respect. She knew Vaghar was led by instinct, after four riders, and war, it was not uncommon. But Seafyre was led by Aemma's gentle spirit. And Vhagar sensed it, accepting the she-dragon into the territory.