"I fear that unless our nephew comes to us and bends the knee, there will be no other outcome. As a matter of fact, these people you kindly negotiated with have just forded the river, downstream," Daenerys replied.
"Then, I warn you, not a single of my men will move unless that dragon is taken down." Prince Quentyn stood with determination.
...
Daenerys froze.
"What?" She asked.
"My men will not move an inch out of the woods and cliffsides until you take down that dragon," Prince Quentyn said, with full confidence. "I have seen what burns do to a man, and I have seen dragonfire in action. I do not wish for any of my men to be sacrificed at the stake so that you may go wreak havoc elsewhere."
"This is treason." Daenerys stepped forwards.
"My men will follow me." Prince Quentyn folded his arms.
"Lord Fowler, Lord Dayne, do you support this madness?" Daenerys asked.
"I support my Prince." Ned immediately smiled back at her, almost evilly.
"Prince Quentyn commands, my sword and shield are his. If he does not wish for our forces to engage, I can do nothing but follow." Lord Fowler bowed his head.
"What will be your decision?" Prince Quentyn asked with a satisfied smirk.
And now, it was falling apart. Without the Dornish besides her…she knew she couldn't lay her hands on him or she'd lose everything, but being treated like this…she'd remember this slight; this was for sure.
"Your Grace, it is quite logical." Lord Connington stepped in, to her shock. "Their dragon must be distracted, if not killed, if we are to win. Should we let it run rampant, it will annihilate our men in the blink of an eye, and any victory we will get will be very sore indeed, if it is one at all."
She looked back at the Prince, who now hid his smile.
He had offered them a choice: Kinslayers or Beggars.
Daenerys' mind raced back to Essos, to the years of hardship, to Viserys, Drogo, then Qarth and Meereen. To the obstacles on her way.
She was only awakened by Aegon's voice whispering in her ear ."Dany, let's call another round of negotiations."
"No," Daenerys whispered back at him. "I have begged enough, Aegon. I have suffered and this close, when nothing stands in our way? I will not back down. We may risk to be kinslayers, but will our nephew risk to be so as well?"
"We cannot risk it, Dany, none is so accursed as the kinslayer," Aegon replied softly. "Please, it would be no begging, we just need to…"
"No." Daenerys shook her head. "No, Aegon, no. Please, I do not wish for it. Not another humiliation. Not in front of them."
"Shhh, Dany…" Aegon tried to comfort her, to no avail.
"He will be a threat, always…" Daenerys looked into his eyes. "I cannot let this pass. If we show ourselves, prepared to give battle, then he will back down."
Aegon looked languidly at her, and Daenerys felt him faltering.
"Trust me. We are the last dragons."
"He is a dragon too."
"He is a Stark."
Aegon winced. He looked at the table, then back at Dany, and finally at Connington.
"Lord Connington is right," Aegon spoke up. "We cannot risk a battle if we do not have full control of the skies. But we must try to avoid the useless spilling of blood."
Aegon took a deep breath.
"Let us take positions for battle. Seeing our determination, our three dragons in the sky, Prince Daeron will have no choice but to see the lengths we are willing to go to, in order to take the Iron Throne." Dany could almost see Aegon's confidence growing. "We will force him to come and meet us, and the Northmen and Riverlanders will come back to discuss with us. A battle would be catastrophic for them, let us not forget so."
There were a few nods around the table, but on his side, Prince Quentyn just looked at them with teary eyes.
"I should have left you there." The prince shook his head at Aegon, and left the tent without saying another word, the Dornish lords following closely behind him.
Daenerys placed a hand on his shoulder, and kissed him on the cheek. At least, Aegon had stayed loyal. He always had. And as much as Daenerys wanted to reprimand the Dornish, she would have to wait until after the battle. For the moment, she needed their men, and she had promised them lands and riches.
That, she would not go back upon. She had signed a treaty, and that was sacred. What message would that give everyone if she immediately renounced it? That the Targaryens were oathbreakers? No. Daenerys would be magnanimous.
But she would have to deal with them somehow. Removing Prince Quentyn as Master of Coin was already one step to further that goal. Removing Vaith and Allyrion? Though both had served well…a question for another time.
Now, it was time for battle, and Daenerys, accompanied by Aegon, slowly left the tent, once the final details had been fixed.
They would fly over the Tully camp with the three dragons, and meet their nephew in the skies. With no hostile moves, he would not risk to draw blood first, and he would see their determination in winning.
With such a show of force, they would force him to land, and call for another parley, which they would gracefully accept.
She stepped out, accompanied by Ser Barristan and some Unsullied. Watching the skies, she couldn't help but notice that there still hadn't been a single break in the weather. The skies remained gray, though no rain had yet fallen.
Daenerys found her dragons waiting for her, on the great grassy field near Tumbleton.
Viserion was already in the air, prowling around, whilst Drogon and Rhaegal were waiting on the ground.
Before she could even reach Drogon, though, Aegon grabbed her by the shoulder.
"What if he does not yield?" Aegon asked, his purple eyes shining into hers. "What if he does not fall for our gamble?"
"Then, we have no choice but to defend ourselves, Aegon," Daenerys replied, determined. "If he does not back down, then he will have to watch us burn his armies. He cannot allow this to happen, you know this."
"And what if he tries to attack us?" Aegon asked.
"Viserion will protect our camp," Daenerys answered, confident. "If anything is amiss, I will know."
She then pulled her arm away from him, and gently mounted Drogon, leaving Aegon to his own dragon.
"Soves."
In a swift motion, Drogon lifted himself from the ground, rising up towards the clouds above.
Soon, Rhaegal's greenish scales were glittering underneath her, as they both undertook to fly towards the Northern camp.
Rhaegal soon found himself near her, though slightly above, due to the dragon's light weight. She could not see Aegon, but this mattered little. In the air, the winds would make it so that Aegon would never be able to hear her, even if she shouted at the top of her lungs. Instead, she made signs towards him, when needed.
The two of them used the river to navigate to the Northern camp, expecting to see the blue-scaled dragon waiting for them, above the many tents of the upper Mander.
Yet, when they arrived above it, she could see that there was something wrong.
The many tents dotting the fields below were still there, but there seemed to be a clear lack of activity.
This could be expected, with the army having forded the river, finding refuge in the woods and grassy vale, but there also was no dragon.
Where had it gone? It certainly wasn't attacking their rear, she would feel it with Viserion.
Worried, Daenerys turned her dragon towards the ford where Lord Edmure had made his army cross, hoping to find something there too. Yet, all she found was emptiness.
She looked above her and saw that Rhaegal was vanishing in the clouds, and then she understood.
Aegon was worried about a surprise attack from above, with Winter hiding in the clouds to pounce on them.
Her heart skipped a beat. Urging Drogon higher, her hands began to shake.
Was it fear, or just the cold that had settled as she entered the first clouds? She could not tell, but she was sure that the fur coat she wore would not protect her long.
She caressed Drogon's scales, feeling the fire inside of him, to keep her hands warm. As she did so, she scoured everywhere for a sign of something.
Suddenly, atop her, on the left, she saw a flash, and a screech.
Lightning? Has Rhaegal or Viserion found something?
The uneasiness continued to settle. Rhaegal had vanished in between the numerous clouds, and she could now hardly tell which way was up, with water continuously pouring over her head, sometimes into her eyes, forcing her to use her hands to wash it away.
She trusted Drogon to keep her in the right direction, and, finally, a small break happened in the clouds. Yet, there was no sign of Rhaegal or Viserion, or even Winter for that matter.
Everywhere around her were clouds of different shades of gray, and not a single flicker of life to be seen.
"Where are you, Aegon?" she asked herself, now worried that they had been deceived.
Fearing for the worst, she wanted to plunge back down, towards her army, but she could not bear to leave Aegon behind.
Something dark was looming in the clouds, and it was not rain.
Fear gripped her truly for the first time, and Drogon could feel it.
She tried to calm herself, to tell herself that it was only her imagination that spawned dragon faces in every corner of her eyes.
All of a sudden, her body shook.
Or was it her body? There was a great roar in the skies, and the entire world seemed to shake for a brief moment, and then a great pain struck her stomach.
She looked down, but there was nothing. Not a stain of blood.
But upwards, there was a rumbling, and the roar became louder and louder.
She narrowed her eyes, waiting to see what was going on.
Was the thunder in the distance playing tricks on her mind? Or was Aegon in trouble?
She did not have time to dwell on it.
All of a sudden, something came out of the cloud above her. A cream-colored dragon.
"Viserion!" she shouted. "You scared me!"
But Viserion did not answer. He kept falling, and that is when Daenerys came to a horrible realization.
He was missing his entire right wing, and blood fell atop of her in his wake.
"No!" She cried out. "Ilagon! Ilagon!"
Drogon shrieked and rushed downwards, rushing after Viserion's falling body.
There was a chance Drogon could capture him in his claws, there must've been.
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