Sweeter Than Evil ||| Cregan Stark

fourty-four

Aemond sneered at Daenys, her words insulting to the ego he had carefully crafted for himself. He pulled his sword from its scabbard and flipped it in his hands. Daenys rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't certain you wanted a fair fight without the Lord of Winterfell," Aemond mocked, walking toward Daenys while she raised her sword to prepare to fight him. "After all, you only had to open your legs to get the support of the North. Where is the Lord Stark to defend his whore, hm?"

Daenys laughed and shook her head. Aemond was angry and he was desperate, which meant he would fight sloppy. His words meant little to her. "His whore can defend herself," Daenys said. "But don't worry, I've made sure he has all of his parts. You can't boast the same, uncle."

There it was. Daenys knew she hit a nerve when Aemond growled at the same time the dragons in the sky roared and lunged at her. "I should have burned him when I had the chance."

Armed, Daenys would not become a victim like she had against Ser Arryk. She raised her sword, metal clashing against metal, and began to fight Aemond for the second time. Daenys had all intentions of ending the second fight the same way as the first, especially knowing it was Aemond's intention to burn the Lord of Winterfell.

Their battle was messy. Both of them were already weak from the collision of their dragons and despite the clean sword fighting to begin, it devolved quickly as they cut one another and got tired. It turned from a dance with swords to a scuffle and the dragons of House Targaryen both fought for their lives.

It was ironic, really. The fact that at the same time their riders were battling with swords on the ground, the dragons in the sky were fighting one another as well. They had the same issue. Vhagar was generally old, slow, and blind in one eye but Ēdrurys, at the beginning, was shaken because of the impact. She was dancing around Vhagar, dodging that orange dragonfire and returning it with some of her own purple fire.

The sight in the sky was mesmerizing and the fight between dragons could be heard and even seen for miles around Harrenhal. Dragons roaring so loud they shook the earth, the clouds illuminated with orange and purple, the colours mixing while the dragons went after one another. Those who knew legend may have assumed the bigger dragon would win. But that wasn't the only factor to consider.

Vhagar had been raised in captivity. She was raised to be a vessel of war. The beast fought with the Warrior Queen Visenya and spent her days fighting men and making old kings bend the knee to the Targaryens. She always had direction when she fought. A warrior on her back to tell her what to do even if her subsequent riders never quite compared to her first.

Ēdrurys was not the same. She hadn't been raised by Dragonkeepers with a rider telling her what to do at all times. She'd spent the first sixteen years of her life fighting to survive. That meant Ēdrurys had to learn to make decisions on her own to ensure her survival. She couldn't rely on somebody else to guide her and keep her alive. Ēdrurys had her own individual way of fighting that wasn't solely connected to the commands Daenys gave.

Daenys took care to understand that fact about her dragon. She knew Ēdrurys wasn't a beast to be controlled at her whim. Ēdrurys had thoughts and feelings and an independent edge to her. To most riders, anything less than total submission was undesirable. But in the sky fighting Vhagar, that was experience Daenys was thankful Ēdrurys had.

Ēdrurys was able to fight and make those divisions in the air on her own. When she got her strength back and started fighting with more power, Vhagar was slow to react. She had to think only for herself but being as injured, old, and slow as she was, it was a difficult ask. Fighting without a rider was something she didn't do and it was that which gave Ēdrurys the edge in the sky while her rider was fighting dirty on the ground.