Dance of The Dragonwolf

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Chapter 46 ('You are not Loved'), Chapter 47 (Rhaenyra's Rage), Chapter 48 (Spread your Wings), Chapter 49 (A Falling Dragon), Chapter 50 (Even Eyes Can Lie), Chapter 51 (A Crying Dragon), Chapter 52 (Tears of a Dragon), Chapter 53 (I Wish We Had More Time), Chapter 54 (The Bitter Harvest), Chapter 55 (Red Vipers, White Lies), Chapter 56 (Purple Eyes, Dark Crown), Chapter 57 (Learning to Dance with Storms), Chapter 58 (A Sister's Oath), Chapter 59 (Flames of Grief), Chapter 60 (Blood of the Dragon, Heart of the Sun), Chapter 61 (Lust and Dragons), Chapter 62 (Between Lives and Deaths), and Chapter 63 (Fire Beneath the Faith) are already available for Patrons.

"You say it's here? I don't see a damn thing! Where is the bloody island? We need to rest!" Jacob shouted over the rain. He could feel the water droplets on his face; he felt like he was drowning.

"I have been here before with Lord Corlys. LastRest should be here." another man shouted, using his hand to cover his face as much as it could from the heavy rains; the waves slammed against the ship, and they ran their arms around the wooden railings around the deck; one could easily fall off this fucking ship.

"He can suck my balls. I don't see shit. We are chasing ghosts here." Another said miserably, trying to light up the torches that hovered all over the deck, but the rain would snuff out the flames every time he tried.

"Watch your tongue lad, Lord Corlys doesn't take kindly to insults." Another one said, his voice raising over a bolt of lightning in the distance.

"Where is Lord Daeron?" Another asked amidst the heavy rain.

"In his chambers, he was busy with that whore of his." Another said as he grabbed the rope and started pulling it along with five other men.

"I thought Lord Corlys would be the one in this expedition, not his bloody nephew." A large man shouted as they tied the rope around the wooden railings of the deck.

"The Crabfeeder attacked another ship, stole everything they could, and left the sailors to the crabs," one said as they all looked up at the sky in delight. The sun was far from rising again, but the rain showed mercy for them. His clothes and boots felt soaked, and he felt miserable, but the rain was finally calming down.

"Then why are we sailing to the Free Cities? I thought Lord Corlys would kill anyone who dared to touch his stuff, his wife, she has a Dragon. Just have her burn that Crabfeeder, or better yet, feed him to his dear crabs." Another said as he sharpened the knife he was holding in his hands.

"Because a Dragon cannot fly forever." They all turned to see Lord Daeron walking towards them.

Unlike the rest of the crew, who were wearing rags and a few plates of armor on their shoulders and chests, Lord Daeron, the son of Vaemond Velayron, stuck out like a sore thumb among them. He was wearing rich clothes. One would think he was about to dance with his own sailors.

Jacob almost scoffed at the sight of his; at least his father was smart enough to wear accordingly, unlike his son, who had locked himself in his chamber since the journey started and done nothing but stay with his whore.

"How long before we reach the free cities?" Lord Daeron demanded, looking at them as if they were his soldiers.

"This heavy rain has delayed our arrival, my Lord. We cannot know for sure, but this storm will continue for at least a few more hours. I think it should take two weeks." Jacob informed him as he stepped forward.

"Two weeks! Did I hire sailors or imbeciles?" Lord Daeron shouted at them, his face turning red amidst the darkness around them. The rain had stopped, and the only source of light in this place was the torches hovering over them. Ropes supported them, keeping them floating like that, and their light was the only light in this dark place.

"My Lord. The storm delayed us."

"You are sailors. You should know how to sail through the storm. House Velayron is the Lord of the Seas, and you cannot even manage a ship. Pathetic." The Lord said with mockery, looking at each one. In one hand, he was holding a knife, pointing it at them, but he was holding the knife wrong, with the blade pressing against his palm.

Jacob felt his blood boil, but the rain on his face calmed him down somewhat. He could see the look of anger in the rest of the crew's eyes. The last thing he needed in this storm was a mutiny. "My Lord, I understand your expectations and apologize if we haven't met them. I assure you we will do our best," he said with a calming voice.

Lord Daeron smiled wickedly, licking his lips as if he could taste something sweet. "Good. See that you do, sailor, or I will throw you from the deck," lord Daeron said, leaning closer. Jacob felt his eyes looking at him. The boy was as green as grass and a bigger fool than a monkey.

"I understand, my lord." Jacob said with a suppressed huff as the Lord leaned away from him.

"For your sake. I hope that you do. My father promised me the hand of my cousin if I succeed this mission. I want to reach the Free Cities within three days." He turned around to depart back to his chambers.

"Three Days!! We cannot reach the Free Cities that fast, even without a storm. Have you ever sailed in your life?" Jacob sighed when Wuut yelled at their Lord. This made the little man stop his departure and turn to face them, his face red.

"My father will hear about this; he will have your heads. All of your heads." Lord Daeron screamed at them, pointing his finger at everyone, but Jacob looked over his shoulder, and his heart skipped a beat; a lightning bolt struck, and the flash of white illuminated something in the sea he hadn't seen until now. A Ship. It was sailing right towards them.

"A Ship is sailing towards us. Everyone prepare for battle." Everyone quickly ran around the deck, many getting hold of their weapons. The little Lord ran back to his chamber in fear, but Jacob paid him little mind as he strode across the deck.

"The Crabfeeder?" Wuut asked with excitement in his voice as they looked at the ship sailing towards them, but Jacob ignored him as he stared at it. Something was strange here. The ship's sails were all black, and even the wood of the ship appeared black, and he could see no lights anywhere in that ship.

"Prepare for battle. This might be the Crabfeeder. If we sink today, take him with you." Jacob shouted at his men. The others roared with him. Jacob felt his blood boil under his skin, grasping the pommel of his sword.

"Loose!" Jacob shouted at his row of archers. Their arrows flew towards the ship, but the wind made many fall into the sea. He knew many rained down on the deck of the enemy ship.

"Aga-" A scream pierced through the night; Wuut and his row of archers were gone; his body was floating two feet above the ground near the main mast of the ship, with something wooden sticking out of his gut.

"Did you hear-" More screams echoed in the darkness, blood flew in the air as splinters flew in the air, and the wooden railing suddenly burst into thousands of wooden splinters.

"THEY ARE ATTACKING US!!" Jacob looked back; he could hear something flying around him; more screams were heard around him as the enemy ship's ram collided with the center of their ship, sinking its teeth deep into the ship.

Jacob fell on the deck with his belly. He knew their ship was sinking, so with a sword in hand, he rose back to his feet. Many of his friends were still alive. He didn't know what happened to Wuut, but as long as they killed the Crabfeeder, their deaths were not meaningless. A wooden bridge looming over them slammed down against the ship's deck, and the first to run towards them was a giant snake holding a long Fang Tian spear.

"What the hell is he?" One shouted as his swords sliced forward, but a metal spear pierced through his belly; he screamed in pain as the long spear now loomed over them all, with the body of their friend still on the spear's tip. This man holding this spear grinned like the devil himself, three sets of eyes looking at them.

The man threw the body against one, his body moving fast, easily dodging their attacks; his spear sliced through flesh and bones.

"Die!!" Another screamed. Jacob paid him little mind; the man's arms were long, longer than they should be; with a spun of his spear, three heads flew in the air like fruits. Two others ran towards this man from behind.

Hiss hiss

It happened too fast, but the two sailors were thrashing on the deck with deep gouges on their bellies. This man spun his spear around, creating a defensive circle around him, keeping many soldiers away in fear of losing their heads. Another rushed fearlessly from behind.

Hiss hiss

The man screamed as the spear slashed his face, and blood flew into the air.

Jacob felt his breath stuck in his throat, his blood boiling, but this was his opportunity to strike.

Four soldiers ran towards this snake man with their swords, only for them to meet the same fate, but his back was facing Jacob. With the heart beating in his throat, he ran without fear.

Tanya, I'm sorry, that's all he thought as he ran towards this man, ready to kill him; he had never thought crabfeeder could be so dangerous.

Hiss hiss

He heard the hiss of a snake in his ears, and the man suddenly spun around to face him, with the light of the torches illuminating his face. Jacob could finally see why there was so much hissing.

Two red snakes had swirled their bodies around this man's shoulders. This man had red eyes like blood, and his neck was long. His body was thin and tall, like a snake, as if he, too, were a snake; his arms were long and muscular, with a snake-like helmet hiding his red-blood hair.

"You got lost, little pup! It would be wise of you to surrender."

"I will not surrender." Jacob claimed determinedly.

"Then you will die braver than most." He mocked him, and Jacob swung his sword, but all he sliced was empty air. A hand grasped his neck, and his feet were suddenly no longer touching the deck. His long arm held him up in the air as if he weighed nothing; the sword's pommel slipped from his fingers.

"Damn you crabfeeder!" Jacob cursed him as he reached for his dagger, a scream escaped his mouth as two long teeth sunk on his neck. The snake's green eyes looked back at him as he resumed his place on the man's shoulder.

Jacob felt a bad sting on his neck, burning with pain as he screamed into the night.

"Do I look like a crab to you?" The man mocked before turning his face.

"My Prince, we found Lord Daeron." The hand suddenly let go of his throat, and Jacob groaned in pain as he fell on the deck with his back. He felt his blood burning under his skin, and breathing suddenly felt difficult. He tried to speak, but an invisible hand grasped his throat tightly.

Jacob watched as Lord Daeron hid behind the whore he had hired, the whore was taken away, and Lord Daeron was slapped across the face by this man.

"Well, well, long way from home, aren't you, little fish?"

"Do not touch me. My father will—" "Your father will soon be a dead man. But do not worry, little fish. You will live. Even if you are a coward, be thankful you are a Velayron, that's the only thing that is worth about you. Not much else." The man snake said mockingly.

Jacob felt his blood boil; every draw of breath felt like a trail of fire in his throat, and he wanted to keep breathing. Do not stop breathing, he told himself as he felt a warm liquid on his lips; it tasted like iron.

Tanya, think of...think of Tanya, he thought, remembering her face, dark hair, and still young; she needed him...Another breath the taste of iron on his lips, grew heavier with each breath.

Tanya, please pray for me...

Aenar Targaryen - One Week Later

"My son will soon return with news from the Free Cities. He will find that damn sand Prince and bring him to our knees." Vaemond boasted as he slammed his hand on the table, placing a wooden ship figurine on the sea area near the Free Cities on the Painted Table before giving Aenar another long look.

Aenar was sure Lord Vaemond didn't like him, but luckily, he wasn't looking for his approval. All he needed from him was to do his job as he was ordered and not much else. Aenar tried to recall what he remembered from the books, but all he could remember was that Rhaenyra orchestrated his death before feeding his body to Syrax. The man could not be trusted, but as long as Lord Corlys was around, he was sure he would keep his brother in check and away from problems.

"We should have sent more ships to capture this Prince. If Dorne truly has a hand in this attacks, we should strike them right now. Burn Sunspear to the ground." Lord Celtigar roared from his seat.

Lord Corlys had called all his troops to support House Velayron against the Triarchy, including House Celtigar, another house with Valyrian blood. The Lord had silver hair like a Targaryen, but his eyes were deep blue, with a scar that ran across his cheek.

"Dorne is not aware that we know they are involved in this conflict. I think it would be better to keep it this way for as long as possible, once we secure the Step Stones, we can move in to secure Dorne." Rhaenyra's words cut in as the lords were busy exchanging ideas on how to fight this war. Many looked at her strangely.

"That is one way we can do this, but the Triarchy has thousands of men on their side, and their islands are filled with caves where the dragons cannot reach them. We cannot let Dorne supply them with weapons." Lord Corlys said, looking at everyone else sitting around the table; his eyes lingered on his son for a moment before looking back at Prince Daemon.

"Does Dorne really matter right now?" Laenor questioned, gaining everyone's attention. "We don't know for sure if Dorne is aiding them, but even if they are. Dornish would never give their soldiers to aid the Triarchy. The Free Cities are the one we should attack first, where the soldiers are coming." Laenor suggested, gaining looks of support from many.

"You are right, Lord Laenor, but attacking the Free Cities is putting the entire Westeros in a war we don't want." Lord Sunglass interjected.

"They started first, we should send them back to the sea where they belong, if we don't do anything about this, and just kill the Triarchy soldiers, then all we do is delay the war. The Free Cities has shown interest on us, and I doubt they will stop sending soldiers, unless we attack the heart and burn their cities to the ground." Lord Celtigar intervened with his booming voice.

"Enough!" Lord Corlys shouted, and the entire room fell silent. "First, we take back the Step Stones. We need to build ports and castles there, and place lords there who can protect the islands in the future."

"That's a death sentence. The Step Stones will never be safe, you prick. Those ports and castles would need armies to survive the attacks from Triarchy and pirates from the Iron Islands." Aenar could see Rhaenyra was a little bored from all the shouting, and so was he; he quickly knocked on the table with his knuckles, gaining everyone's attention.

"You said these pirates hide in the caves, and dragon fire cannot reach them. That might be true, but I doubt they can stay in caves forever. The only thing keeping them alive right now is the supplies they get from the upcoming ships." Aenar said as he placed the ship figurine on the sea around the stepstones on the painted table.

"Are you saying we should starve them and force them to give up? That can take weeks, and maybe even months," Lord Celtigar complained. Aenar quickly realized the man loved the taste of war. He seemed more like a mad dog than a true lord with a working head. It seemed all his brains had gone to his muscles and the axe he was carrying around.

"We can try to poison them." Rhaenyra suddenly spoke.

"Poison them?"

"Yes, if the Triarchy is using caves to hide. I'm sure they are not living in the best condition possible, such conditions can make many men and women lose their logic, the thought of eating like lords and drinking wine will be too much for them. We can send a small group of people, disguise them as an attack group, they would carry the food and the wine. The food will be poisoned. When the Triarchy gets hold of this. They would be willing to try it and that's all we need from them." She continued, earning impressed looks from many lords, but he was sure he heard a few scowls at her, especially from Lord Vaemond.

"What about the group of soldiers that is sent with this food? What about them? Who will save them?" Lord Laenor asked with narrowed eyes, Nyra seemed a little conflicted as she averted her eyes.

"Soldiers die in every battle, Lord Laenor. Your own father knows that better than all of us here." Daemon interrupted before Aenar could; everyone turned to face Corlys.

"This idea has merits, your grace, but right now, they take reinforcements and supplies from the Free Cities every week. We must attack these ships first before dealing with people left in the Step Stones." Lord Corlys said, moving a dragon figurine where the Stepstones were on the painted table.

"We have dragons for a reason, if dragons cannot reach the caves, I don't think the ships in the open sea have this advantage. The scouts will inform us when new ships are sailing towards the Step Stones. We will attack them, Cannibal, Syrax, and Caraxes will burn down the fleet. Lord Corlys with his ships will be positioned here if they try to sail away during the fight. We can expect one hundred ships from the Free Cities, but we won't let them escape. If we manage to—"

"You want to send Princess Rhaenyra to battle?!" Lord Laenor interrupted him, looking at him incredulously and with a hint of anger in his eyes.

Aenar glared at the boy for interrupting him, but someone else spoke before he could.

"Prince Aenar's right. I have a dragon of my own, and I'm not afraid to fight. I would still be in King's Landing if I was a coward." Rhaenyra spoke with venom towards her cousin.

"My son didn't mean to insult you, your grace." Corlys quickly defended Laenor, giving him a look to not say another word before turning to address the two of them. "But he has a point; you have never fought before, and your dragon is still young. I understand you will fight from the sky, but one arrow is all needed. Your father will punish us if something were to happen to you." Lord Corlys said while looking at Rhaenyra and Aenar keenly.

"My father is away in King's Landing having feasts for his new Queen." The venom in her words when she spoke of the Queen was audible enough for everyone to hear. "I might be young, but the blood of the dragon flows through my veins, the blood of Visenya Targaryen. I have a dragon. I'm ready to fight for my family, if I cower in Dragonstone. I will never be ready. I will reach my fourties and still not be ready. I will fight, and show my worth to you all. Show that just because I'm still young. I'm ready to fight, even if it costs me my life. If I fall. I will fall like Queen Rhaenys, fighting for my people." A few Lords cheered for her, but Aenar knew the rest wanted to see her fight first, because words were winds, and Rhaenyra had yet to show that her words were worth more than winds.

"Your grace, if I might ask, can we expect support from your father, the King?" Lord Rosby asked with a thin smile hidden as he stroked his long beard; out of everyone here, this man had the longest beard and mustaches that reached his cheeks.

Aenar's smile faded when Rhaenyra's face turned a little red; the discussion about her father was something she wanted to ignore as much as possible. Every time he was brought up in conversation, Rhaenyra would usually storm out of the room in anger. Two months have passed since they received news that King Viserys had married Alicent of House Hightower, and two weeks ago, they received word that Queen Alicent was pregnant. The King had invited them to the Grand Feast, but Rhaenyra had burned the letter with rage in her eyes.

Aenar had expected her to fly around with Syrax to calm herself, but instead, she stripped herself of every bit of clothing before jumping Aenar, riding his cock until she was fully satisfied, and screaming in pleasure for everyone to hear, that night she didn't care if the entire Dragonstone heard screaming Aenar's name.

"My father ignored Lord Corlys warnings about the Triarchy. He will never support us in a war with the Free Cities and Dorne." Rhaenyra spat the word 'father' with such loathem that many lords looked appalled.

Aenar sighed. He had told Rhaenyra that she needed to be better at hiding her emotions and not make it obvious to everyone that she wasn't on good terms with her father. He noticed how Vaemond grew a small smirk of satisfaction, and Aenar knew he would try to use Rhaenyra's anger against her.

Aenar was ready to continue with his plan when the door opened. Ser Criston strode towards him before leaning his head close to Aenar's ears. "Lady Kinvara says she has bad news. She saw another vision, your grace. She wants to enter," he said in a hushed tone.

"Let her," Aenar ordered, and Ser Criston walked back to the door and opened it, revealing the Red Priestess.

Lady Kinvara strode inside, her hands crossed just above her belly as she grew a friendly smile on her face. Aenar noticed the way her red eyes flickered furtively at his father before looking back at him.

"Why is a witch here? Is this really your advisor, your grace? A witch!" Vaemond shouted mockingly, earning a warning look from Corlys.

"Lord Vaemond, I will have you out if you open your mouth again. You are to show respect to my advisor. Will I need to repeat myself?" Aenar threatened with a cold glare at the man whose jaw clenched. He opened his mouth to say something when Corlys gave him a look.

Vaemond swallowed thickly before looking down at his feet, letting out a resigned sigh of frustration.

"Lady Kinvara, Ser Criston says you have seen another vision, and that is bad news for us," Aenar said as she stopped before the painted table. She didn't answer right away; she reached out and grabbed the ship figurine that Lord Vaemond had placed on the painted table before throwing it over the table.

"What the hell is this?"

"Lord Daeron Velayron is captured. His ship is on the bottom of the Narrow Sea."

"WHAT! You lie you Witch!" Vaemond tried to rush towards Lady Kinvara, but Corlys got hold of his wrist, stopping him while whispering something in his ear with an angry expression on his face.

Kinvara showed no fear in her eyes. Instead, she looked at him with contempt. "I speak no lies, My Lord. I saw his ship being swallowed by a wave with a snake head; the snake had red eyes like flames." Aenar could see the anger growing in everyone's faces; even Lord Corlys looked furious. While he might not think highly of his nephew, this was still an attack on the name Velayron.

"It must be the fucking Martells."

"We need to sail and burn the entire Dorne to the ground." Lord Celtigar's voice boomed once again.

"How do you think we do that? The Dragons cannot breathe fire without stopping, and we can't put an entire Kingdom to the sword. If we do that, the rest of Westeros will think of us as Tyrants and want us gone." Aenar scolded the man; as much as he hated the Martells, he would never do something as ruthless as killing everyone in Dorne. Men, women, children, and babies.

"Who could have attacked, Lord Daeron. That's what we must know." Daemon interrupted their shouts for war, looking at Lady Kinvara expectantly.

Kinvara looked at him with an alluring smile. "There's only one men that I can think of My Prince. I once met this men, and from what I heard, they say he is like a snake in human form. He's cunning and smart. They call him the Blood Snake."

"Blood Snake! Never heard of him." Lord Vaemond said dismissively.

"I have." Everyone turned to see Lord Corlys.

"He's the youngest son of Qoren Martell, the current Ruler of Sunspear. I heard about him because they said that he once walked out of flames unharmed, some even say that his mother was a Valyrian woman, he is a legitimate bastard of Prince Qoren, but I heard that he died."

"That man still walks this earth, and if he is truly a dragonseed, he might get his hand on a Dragon." Kinvara said with a hint of warning in her voice.

"Bullshit." Daemon scoffed while Aenar looked deep in thought. He tried to recall but couldn't remember ever reading of this Bastard Martell.

"What is his name?" He finally asked seriously, looking at Kinvara.

"Lykard Martell."

Aenar narrowed his eyes; this name was unknown to him, and he wondered why. Maybe the Maesters who wrote 'Fire and Blood' saw him as not that important, and from what he remembered, Dorne took no part in the Dance of The Dragons. So, it's possible the Maesters didn't care to write anything about this man.

"It changes little. We still need to focus on the war of the Step Stones. Then we can focus on House Martell and the rest of Dorne."

"Your Grace." Their discussion was interrupted again as Ser Criston rushed inside breathlessly.

"What now?" Daemon shouted, losing his patience.

"A convoy just arrived from King's Landing. Three Royal Ships."

"Ohh, who did my 'dear' brother send here." Prince Daemon said with a sneer, and Aenar could see Rhaenyra turning red with anger as Ser Criston swallowed thickly before answering, almost afraid to answer.

"Himself, your grace. The King has arrived here, and he wants an audience."

At that moment, Syrax, Caraxes, and Cannibal roared in anger outside.

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