HĀROS BARTOSSI | DAEMON T.

[ 𝟏𝟏 ]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑

── •✧• ── ⋆⋅༻✦༺⋅⋆ ── •✧• ──

"Maevys!" The Seasnake's voice boomed towards his daughter, echoing like the force of his footsteps. He flung aside his helmet and stormed through his troops, uncaring of the scrutinising stares from his men or the minor injuries he had sustained during the retreat from Bloodstone. His brows furrowed in fury, his chest heaving with each breath. But it was not the battle or his wounds that consumed his focus— it was his child, who had transformed into a striking young woman during the time he had been away, to Maevys, who should have been in Driftmark, awaiting their return once they claimed victory in the Stepstones. 

Vermaelyon landed gracefully on Dwarfstone, the base of operations for House Velaryon's forces and Prince Daemon. The earth quivered beneath its massive weight, and the three-headed dragon let out a deafening screech, shaking each of its heads in discomfort. It was a strange place for the creature, surrounded by an unfamiliar mass of mortals, each with eyes and weapons trained on it. The space was cramped, and the beast clearly resented the company. 

Maevys dismounted from the majestic vermilion dragon, her fingers brushing the heads of her beloved dragons. They purred beneath her touch, their scales warm and reassuring. She offered a small smile, calming the creature as their peridot-coloured eyes blinked slowly at her in acknowledgement. She glanced sideways at the approaching soldiers from her father's army. An inaudible sigh escaped her lips. "Nyke gīmigon naenie laesi issi jurnegēre rȳ īlva, Lyon..." she whispered, sharing her dragon's discomfort at being the centre of so many gazes, both fascinated and horrified at their presence.  

Steeling herself for the inevitable scolding from the Lord of the Tides, she turned to face him. She bit her riding gloves off with a sharp motion, then exchanged a brief glance with her brother, who nodded in understanding, knowing right away of the unspoken message.

"Keep a distance from my sister and her dragon!" Laenor commanded, and the Velaryon forces instinctively scattered back away, creating a wide circle around Maevys and Vermaelyon. No one wanted to be near the three-headed dragon, or risk angering it, especially after the rumours of its ferocity— stories of it breathing fire at anyone foolish enough to trespass. The soldiers were wise enough to know their own mortal worth and that, in the presence of such a beast, they were little more than just prey.

Maevys straightened herself as she walked towards her family. Her steps were measured, and her posture was proud. She carried herself with dignity and grace, even as she caught sight of Vaemond glowering from behind Corlys's shoulder. He had not spoken a word, but his fury was palpable— three years had gone by, and his hatred for her had yet ceased; in fact, they burned as hot as ever. The feeling was mutual. Nevertheless, Maevys gave him no satisfaction. She barely glanced at him, and she did not flinch. She had never truly cared what Vaemond thought of her anyway.

"Father," she greeted with a sheepish smile when she came into proximity with Corlys. Her nervousness did not go unnoticed, but the moment the head of House Velaryon pulled her into a wholehearted embrace, she melted into his solid and familiar sturdy arms. The longing void carved in her heart was replaced by her father's quiet comfort, whom she had not seen in three years. In that instant, the world shrank into the steady heartbeat of her father's solace.

Lord Corlys's softened features hardened into a frown as he pulled away from the hug. He took a second, eyes scanning the changes in his daughter— the sharper angles of her face, the way she now so closely resembled his wife. "You disobeyed my orders and left Driftmark," he said, the weight of his disappointment cutting through his words, and yet his actions betrayed him when he brushed away the soot besmirching her cheeks. That was when he noticed the new piercings. She had forged himself into someone fierce, bolder, but beneath the steel, her gentle kindness in her eyes remained unchanged.