Chapter 21: Fear and Hopelessness
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"If you have a dragon and I have a dragon, we can talk about the law.
If you hold a knife and I hold a knife, we can talk about rules.
If you come empty-handed and I come empty-handed, we can talk about reason.
But if I have a dragon and you only have a knife, then the truth lies in my hands.
If I have a dragon and you have nothing, what I -"
"-What in the seven hells are you doing?" demanded an irritated Helaena, interrupting my monologue targeted at a full length polished silver mirror.
"Dammit woman, I'm practicing my new wizardry!" I turned on my sister-wife, using my voice and face to convey my disappointment, something that has recently become very very simple to do, "Why do you always do this to me?"
"Is this about the way everything else gets quieter when you put your effort into talking now?" she cocked up an eyebrow, "It started halfway through your performance of 'Time in a Bottle' at the tourney."
I considered her words and found them to match my recollection, then turned my head back to the mirror and pondered aloud, "I did not discover this facet of Dragon Lord heritage during my last life, but that is no surprise considering the way Valyrian magic occluded my sight. It certainly goes a long way to explaining the belief that we are closer to gods than men."
Targaryen's did not exactly put in a remarkable showing post-Doom, but if an ancestor had a mystic command of presence like this then it explains why that saying lasted despite so much fallibility displayed by the line. I'm not sure the vectors of this magic, but to the listener, my intention cuts through in both emotion and sensation. When I put forth the effort the effect leaves the realm of subtly and completely consumes the subject's focus. Sights occlude, sounds fade, and I become the center of attention for good or ill, my will enthralling perception.
"At least this time you're making progress." Helaena mocked the many days I spent crawling around under a snow bear pelt in the winter before her death.
"Jokes on you, woman. I gained the ability to fully shapeshift before I died. At will I became a giant snow bear, over two tons. A single swipe of my paw collapsed houses, my roar made men bleed from their ears. It was glorious." I corrected the woman.
"I'm sure you took great pleasure slaughtering people barely able to fight back against you to begin with in that form." she sniped me, something still up her ass from my honest mix-up.
I swear I need to walk around all day with this woman strapped to my cock to keep the peace in this house. It spoke to some failing of mine that she spoke to me such. Some libertine foolishness that caused me to not raise my hand to her. I blame Maege for this. Mine tolerance of her developed an inurement in me to the chicanery and pathology of womenfolk.
"I do not remember if I did or did not." I admitted the bitter truth, "The final decade of my life is difficult to remember, only the highest highs rose out of the abyss of burning pain my existence became after my magic grew far beyond my body's capacity." I stared at the mirror, at myself, looking for something no eye can see, "And now I find myself on the path again. Magic begets magic. To those who have everything, more shall be given. To those who have nothing, more shall be taken."
I surprised my sister-wife by taking her hand and leading her to a sofa, then pouring us both wine. I handed her a gold cup, then sat down next to her with the rest of the ceramic carafe. Taking a big drink, then frowning, I contemplated what I wanted to say briefly.
"My magic grows." I grit out.
"You were born magic and gained more as we grew up. Why the sudden moroseness?" Helaena questioned as if my crisis is merely her inconvenience.
I turned my gaze upon her and felt anger rise up, then the steely piercing of shame. I'd felt it happening to me, the sudden burst of power gained every time I completed some important milestone or achievement.
"I deceived myself." I nodded, clenching my teeth briefly as I confronted my willful ignorance, "Lies and excuses to avoid grappling with how far down the path I am, without taking a single conscious step. I thought I was the master of my fate, but now I wonder… for all my power, did I wield it, or did it wield me?" I paused, barely able to articulate what I knew in my heart, hardly able to bring the words to the surface, but after a time I spoke, "I am afraid."
Her purple eyes widened, her jaw slackened. Helaena's throat clenched. Perhaps I've done some right in our relationship, that my fear is so foreign to her as to be shocking.
"Last time, my magic grew from the intensive slaughter of magical beings, and their agents, but now it grows simply as living. Am I condemned, without committing to the crime? Am I, the man who terrorized the world, left simply to hope? Shall I pray to whatever gods might hear me, for mercy? I who have given no mercy."
I tilted the carafe back and drank deeply before leaning forward, elbows on knees as I scratched my brow with a thumb.
"I won't live another day like that." I spoke softly but she heard it, for it drowned out all other sounds, "If I'm away when it happens, know that I'm sorry about the mess I'll leave after I'm done. Good thing you're a princess, and can order someone else to clean up." I chuckled darkly at a passing thought, "Contemplating writing my schemes and commands down? What a joke I've become. You and Aemond, figure it out. It's not like I'll be around to assess the situation for you."
I got up to leave but felt a hand trying to pull me down. Failed obviously. The irresistible force of my quads and glutes cannot be stopped.
"Are you giving up?" she questioned with her eyes averted from me.
"Give up?" I laughed and walked away, "What's that?"
-Daemon Targaryen-
The Rogue Prince felt no joy despite the long awaited acknowledgement of his rightness, especially not after the explanation of how his niece-wife finally managed to come around to the correct position. Aegon was a hard enough puzzle to solve without the possibility of up to seven additional bully dragons flying about. If these suspected dragons grew anything live the voracious little pink and copper boulder of a beast that frequently cozies up to his wife's belly like a lady's lap dog, the escalation of risk dealing with the 'Greens' went from dire to catastrophic.
His wife sat atop his hips with his manhood sheathed within her, and yet he failed to admire the positive changes in her form of late. She'd dropped noticeable weight around her gut and her limbs tightened up without losing any mass from her teats. A small miracle, but all Daemon thought about was his desperate need for an opportunity to ambush Aegon and Sunfyre atop Caraxes, and how he needed it years ago. He only knew of Aegon frequenting the Red and Blue Keeps, and both those locations now housed Dreamfyre and Vhagar, the only tamed dragons above Caraxes weight class, making them deadly threats when paired with the impossibly swift golden dragon to harry the powerful Blood Wyrm.
His wife clenched down around his member and his mind turned to Mysaria, his former lover now peddled in secrets behind her flesh business. He'd tap her as a contact, and see what his former good father might manage from Driftmark. It irked him to go to the other man, but much like the Step Stones, Aegon was a problem too large for a single man to reliably overcome. If the Sea Snake ever wanted his descendants on the Iron Throne, they needed to work together to ensure their legacy.
During his pondering, Rhaenyra dismounted him and pulled a silk robe around her shoulders, but leaving it unfastened, now pouring wine turned away from him, but providing him a feast for his tired eyes as she brought him a cup.
"What must we do next?" she asked him, looking for a plan of action.
Daemon frowned and figured they needed to take the loathsome problem on piece by piece until a good opportunity showed itself for him to make the decisive strike.
"You must re-establish yourself in my brother's court." Daemon began explaining his plan to take small bites from the beast at a time, "You've let that whore run rough over the place too long. We need our people in power, not hers. Especially so in the Dragonpit. It is obvious that the order is a part of her faction, and this cannot remain."
"Would that not show our hand?" Rhaenyra questioned, and rightly so, "If the Keepers are captured to the point that they have kept eggs secret from us, then Alicent and Otto have their eyes and thumbs firmly on them. Dragons are at the core of this conspiracy, and they need to be at the core of our counter to it. The people are a distraction, and a risk. Can we withstand an assault from Vhagar, Dreamfyre, and Sunfyre if our attempt on the Dragonkeepers is discovered?"
Daemon grit his teeth considering it. Were they already past the point of Dragon superiority changing hands? He considered the match up of Caraxes, Syrax, and Meleys versus Vhagar, Sunfyre, and Dreamfyre, and found himself looking for hopeful scenarios rather than likely. During his brief active stay at Dragonsreach, he knew Alicent's brood rode their dragons every day, hunting, racing, and aerial acrobatics. He'd flown with them, and observed.
At best he predicted a double suicide for both Caraxes and Vhagar as well as Meleys and Dreamfyre, but both of those are optimistic outcomes against bigger foes. Even if Caraxes and Meleys overperformed, the Syrax Sunfyre match up was so one sided that even adding Rhaenyra's Strong bastards to the equation didn't promise victory. Normally a dragon's weight class is a function of its length, so Syrax and Sunfyre should match closely in combat, but the former is a lazy fatty dragon and the later is a mutant muscle freak. Both are bigger than their length suggests, and only one of those is in a good way. Sunfyre doesn't beat Syrax nine out of ten times, he beats her ten out of ten times. A Syrax victory is an impossibility, and Daemon suspected that Sunfyre could eke out a win even going into that fight heavily injured, the golden beast that phenomenal a specimen.
Swapping the matchups didn't work either, as Sunfyre's speed and agility allowed him to stall against both Meleys and Caraxes, and Syrax versus Dreamfyre is almost as bad a match as versus Sunfyre, and Syrax versus Vhagar is a laughable stomping. Without endangering their very young children, there is little chance of victory, and that chance goes away if Rhaenyra's suspicions turn true, as Aegon could simply bring his own very young dragon riders, possibly in greater numbers than theirs.
"I… will think on it." Daemon bought himself more time to consider solutions, knowing he needed to think outside the norm to achieve victory.
Fortunately, he had a long and fruitful history of doing just that. Never bet against the Rogue Prince.
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