Pressing her heels against the fur-clad body, Irina rode her horse as fast as it was capable of. A small dictating part of her love had been crunched with spiked boots and the merciless pain that was being awarded for choosing her family, especially Aegon, crushed her aching soul. What have I ever done for him to see me with cold indifference? All throughout the ride, she wondered if it was her mistake to send him away. No matter what, the only person who got hurt was Irina. Perhaps, Rhaenys was true in her words, when she said Aegon wanted to wipe away the memory of their coupling and so, he sought his other wife — the one he truly loved. Although, it didn't feel that way when he coupled with her. She had been ecstatic and happy and relished every pain and pleasure he gave. Anyway, none of it mattered in the end. He had hurt her, and no amount of reasons could suffice her wounded heart.
She needed time and distance from her family. Although she thought of going to Orys, she instantly rejected that idea. Irina was not ready to answer her beloved brother's inquisitions. Coming to the west shore, she asked the old boatman to help her horse. She was ready to leave everything and proceed wherever the horse would take her if her powers had never vanished or she hadn't promised any oaths before the Gods. Irrespective of Aegon's opinion on honoring and respecting their marriage, she wanted to remain sincere to the promises. Else, her words and deeds would matter to nothing. Her father had taught her better.
When the reflection of horses' hooves colliding against the hardened sand made ripples form on the saltwater, she panicked with a fluttering fear. If there was another ambush, she surely wouldn't survive it. Almost ten armed and armored men came towards her direction and only when she found black and red armor on their chest, did her own calmed. They were Aegon's guards. A tall knight dipped down from his warhorse and strode towards her by removing his slitted helmet, which made his shoulder-length silvery hair to be fleeing free in air. He had an arrogance about him. "My lady, Lord Aegon sent me to look after you."
Bending her knees into the water, she measured everyone with fear and realized she had never seen any of them before in her father's court while warging and sitting on the dragon throne as a bald eagle. Only the silver-haired man before appeared to be, well, not too green. All others were too young to be a knight. "You can return and tell Aegon that I am on my own for some days." She said with gritted teeth. The arrogant man was not listening. And that pissed her off more than his haughty attitude. A smug sneer slipped out on his lips. Is he laughing? What did he presume of me?
The moment he came close and braced her shoulder with his strong arm, as though she was a random woman, she gripped the wet sand from below and threw it to his eyes. His haughty smile, the arrogant demeanor to touch her, and the silver hair were bringing back the hidden ugliness of her life. Before he made any move, she climbed on the boat and asked the old man to take her to the coast of the nearest island.
With Merry wrapped around her waist, she spent the night on the shore, trying not to put too much heart on the events that had happened. But she needed to think about her future. She needed Aegerax. She needed to know why her powers had ceased to work after the wedding. Could it be the wedding? Could it be that the Gods of Valyria didn't approve of the wedding? There was something about that ceremony that had taken away her power. Visenya might know. Or Visenya forged some spell on her. Either way, she should speak with her sister. But not now. Perhaps sometime later. Although she felt the chill night, it didn't seem to freeze her. The lack of connection with nature through her birds made her very vulnerable. She tried to keep an open eye the whole night, but weariness came all the same and she dozed with a heavy heart and insecurities crawling in.
When she woke up the next morning, she found herself to be wrapped in a fur sheet, and next to her sleeping place, embers and ashes dwindled, indicating that someone had made a fire to warm her.
All the ten men had trailed along with her and had made a camp, with five of them rotating throughout the night to take watch. To say, she'd shamed herself as a lady would be an understatement. After all, they were not responsible for her misgivings and she had behaved just like how her siblings had treated her all those years. But she was not ready to tag them along like puppies. Besides, she had so little trust in them. The tall knight, at whose pretty face she had thrown mud the previous day, introduced himself as Trystane. She trusted him even less.
"Lord Aegon said you would be going to Lord Baratheon's holdfast. Our orders were to follow you." He said, but she refused to heed.
"I am not going there. I want you all to pack and leave for the castle. Tell my brother-"
Ser Trystane interfered. "My lady! We were ordered to follow you. I understand that you have no need for us. But we will be helpful wherever you wish to go and protect you from any harm."
Irina wanted to laugh at him and mock him, boasting how she wouldn't need the mercy of her brother's generosity. Although the thought of spurning Aegon enticed her, she had to tread carefully. She wouldn't survive another attack. She didn't want to even put herself in that situation. But the silver man still made her weary. He was too similar, like her siblings, for her to ignore and not mind. Not until Vyl and Paxter joined the party she stopped fretting?
She had a sorry-ass plan. She couldn't contain it, and spat it out to Paxter, whose twitching mustache might have once terrified her, but not then. "You want to tame a dragon?" He asked.
"No… I want to take what is rightfully mine." Although she didn't have her skin-changing power, her dragon blood should be enough to take Aegerax. Her father was simply wrong. Besides, without her power, she felt vulnerable, small, negligible. She needed the assurance of control in her life. "And I know there are guards around Dragonmont. My brother will rather keep me chained than to follow his promise. And I won't ever beg him. So I want to scale the mountain from the South and get near the lair."
Paxter gave her a warning look that meant he was not agreeing with her plan. Even Irina saw too many faults in her mission. Had her father never fooled her with a cursed egg, she would have climbed the mountain when she was a ten-year-old child. Perhaps Lord Aerion had known her well, to know her impulse. That didn't make her feel less angry towards him. There were times she regretted being born to that man. She hated that he fooled her and left the world before she got a chance to fight over him for lying. "With twelve men tucked behind you, your brother will find you in an hour, before you climb a mountain, milady."
"I have a plan. If we go through the islands surrounding Dragonstone, it is far less likely for Aegon to come to know. And I am aware that you know these lands well over me. You can guide me to reach there without passing any holdfasts or castles. We shall pass through villages." The plan could turn out to be futile and perhaps Aegon might somehow sniff of her whereabouts. But will he refuse her to claim a dragon? Besides, for all she knew, he would be still imagining she was in Orys's holdfast.
And the party moved, slow like sloths. She informed Ser Trystane that she would simply see the villagers around and was interested in getting to know her people. He smirked at her, his silver brows lifted in perfect amusement. It seemed she was a poor-piss liar, and he hadn't bought a word she said. At least he managed not to show his obvious disbelief openly to her. All the more she was not liking Ser Trystane's presence. Did Aegon really send a man to protect her, who looked like someone Rhaenys would take to bed? Irina had not been well-aware of Aegon's motives in many things, but she knew he was purely territorial when it came to her with other men. Even Orys had not been spared. Or had that part of her brother had left too after his round of pleasure was over with her?
Wearing the rough-spun tunic, a pair of knee-length boots, that Vyl had bought for her, the party hunted, shared the same, and they'd made a tent for her to sleep in at night, while they themselves spent by open-fire. Irina spent less time with Vyl. She knew he'd heard everything Rhaenys had confessed to hurt her in the Great Hall. Irina herself hadn't come to terms with that incident. The nagging ache squeezed her burning heart, every time the memory flashed, and she had to swallow to clear her cloudy eyes. There was no way she could come to terms with it. There were certain insults that could not be brushed off or wiped away. This was one of them, and it would always remain a scarred memory of her married life.
Although she had been wary and distant with all those men, that evening, Ben, Ser Trystane's squire, who could not be more than twelve, offered her his hunt, a stout pigeon. "My first hunt with an arrow." He beamed.
"You should enjoy it yourself, then."
"Nah… You are the lady. Besides, I thought, you are too sour because of eating fish every day. A bird might make you happy."
That confession revealed her how utterly useless crap she became, who lived on other's hard work. She had been distant and aloof. She'd been self-centered, dragging these men for her selfish mission, while not even caring to know their name. She still distrusted Ser Trystane. But, like Ben, all the other under his command simply followed his words. To put more rightly, they were following Aegon's words. They might even give their lives fighting for her if it came to an ambush. And here she was, not even bothering to speak with them. That was when she gave up and enquired about his family. Apparently, Ben had a younger brother at home to feed. And he earned a good portion, if not wealthy, serving in a castle. Because he was a healthy boy and had won out of the competition that Ser Trystane had held, he came to serve for Aegon. Irina shared the pigeon with him, while he wholeheartedly shared all his tales.
And that night, when she flipped in her tent, unable to sleep, she strode to the fireplace outside, where five men were taking watch. Everyone was young, just like her, and the thought thrilled her blood. In the middle of nowhere, in the pitch dark night, she was spending her time with twelve men. She would not become incredibly stupid ever, again. Irrespective of their oaths and promises, they were men. And she was a girl, with no powers, no dragon, no arms, no armor. Her insecurity heightened even a level higher when Ser Trystane dipped himself on the dry sand next to her.
"You will visit your first village tomorrow morning." He pointed in the direction where Paxter had confirmed around thirty families lived. "I assume we won't be leaving to Dragonstone, even after that visit." He stated.
"I haven't decided." She replied blankly. There was something about him that made her hackles rise on her neck. Irina gave a strong glare without backing down. She needed to know what his deal was or to whom he was working for. "How did you come to Aegon's service?"
One corner of his lips rose in amusement, and he rubbed his palms together to frighten away the cold. "Around the time when your father passed away." She studied his face. His nose was lean and straight-edged. He had high cheekbones and the silver hair began from a widow's peak. There was a softness to his face that was not there with Aegon or her father or Orys and Visenya. The men in her family had a hardened, edgy face, with a ruthless power of aura about them. Aegon rarely smiled, unlike this man, who had an easy way about his life, just like Orys. "Is your bed not warm enough for you to have a good sleep, my lady?" The corner of his lips curved with a flirty smile. Taking her silence as permission, he slithered close to her, and she didn't fail to note two of the five other men in the party, was keenly observing his act. Were they collecting evidence? "Tell me, my lady, what is it you desire that you leave your husband's bed not even a night after your wedding."
Irina wanted to call him out and give a heavy clout to his ears but the prospect that Aegon had sent him after her, to merely test her loyalty, made a revulsion of disgust and anger course into her body, after what he had done to her. She couldn't believe it, yet, she wanted to test to what extent this game would go. "My husband doesn't desire my bed, Ser. Isn't it reason enough to run away for a while?" Finding her answer genuine, his flirting smile vanished, replaced by a frown. "Thanks for your sincere concern, though." Her words might have been polite, but it was curt enough to let him know she disliked his interest.
None of this game would matter once she would get her dragon. If ever Aegon would will himself to accuse her of adultery, she would go for a war with him. It was possible that she got it all wrong. Ser Trystane could be one of Rhaenys's lover. He had the look of it that suited Rhaenys's tastes. But the coincidence of him bringing a party didn't suit that Rhaenys had plotted this well. For all of Rhaenys's cruelty, she wasn't brightest in the litter to plot like this.
Had she retained her warging powers, things would be far different, now. It was fine. All she would need now was a dragon. Nothing else. The silver knight did not disturb her anymore, and they came upon the first village the very next day. Even during the journey, she had observed the destroyed plantation, with the lasting storm that pursued for about a moon. Her oblivion world became clear only when she came upon to visit those broken half-timbered houses and grieving families who lost a few of their own, to the storm.
The oldest man, who had the same muscular tone of Paxter, with graying beard approached her with both glee and sorrow in his voice. "The Mother have mercy on us." He said, falling to his knees. Irina introduced herself and gave a polite visit to the families. The old man had a gleaming hope of seeing twelve armored guards coming to the village. "There are thirty families, my lady. And we have lost twenty men in this village, roof, and trees falling over their heads."
"Twenty? That is a lot. Why haven't you come to the castle when the storm brew?" The old man's eyes simply bulged in shock. It was Ser Trystane who took her aside and informed that the villagers were unaware of such curtsies. He needn't explain. She herself had never seen commoners walk into the castle and stay under the roof, even when her father was alive. Upon inquiry, she realized, the local lord who owned the lands never welcomed them, either, and barely knew them. Only for collecting his share of tax would he send out his guards, who would threaten the same poor people.
She had been wanting to reach the mountain and take the dragon, rather than spend her time with those fisherfolk, who were under the responsibility of their liege lord and Aegon himself. But her bloody heart wouldn't allow her to leave. Even if she decided to send a missive to Aegon for help, he probably would ignore it, because these people were just a means to an end. At most, Aegon would send an order to the masterly lord of those lands to help them. Nothing more. Dragonstone was populated to simply harvest food for the dragons. Her brother's visions were wider to consider for those petty thirty families.
Irina couldn't disappoint those haunted, grieving eyes. And so she called Ser Trystane and Paxter. "Let us help in constructing their timbered houses. Once they settle on their feet, we shall leave." Ser Trystane was utterly shocked, but he moved fast on his feet, ordering his men to do the deed with military preciseness.
There were perks of being a lady of Dragonstone which the marriage had boon her with, and during her stay in the village for more than a week, she had the privilege of lying on a mattress, with a roof above her head and hearth beside, wine and boar meat for food. Still, she shared everything with those twelve guards. They worked their ass off to make a sturdy roof for all the families and hunted enough meat balancing the eco-life and cleared the broken trees on the vegetation. They worked hard, and she denied sitting cross-legged and straight-chinned as a proper lady, by simply watching. She joined in their hunt. With always having the benefit of birds, she hadn't learned the true patience or art of it. Orys had often chanted prayers about it, but Irina tasted the fruit of efforts, only then, after all those times with precise passing day.
Ben and Bryce, the youngling of twelve and thirteen, taught her how to create a trap with wood sticks and even helped her hold a bow and nock an arrow into the string. She knew she wouldn't become a marksman, but every time she began learning new tricks in survival, she rejoiced all the same. Harry, a fifteen-year-old lad, taught her the knacks of riding fast on the mount. Elwood taught her three local songs of the common tongue. Billy, a man who was close to Ser Trystane, explained to her the art of making berry wines, roast meat by building a fire and prepare tastiest fresh vegetable porridge. Billy was a young man, full of life, and he even helped her in setting a tent, all the while boasting Ser Trystane's glory. They seemed to have known each other for a longer tenure and close friends, which should alert her to be away from Billy, but she truly enjoyed the wide-shouldered man's his company. Billy was easy and naïve, just how Irina had been about the world.
And sooner, she became useful in finishing any duties assigned. The feud of her family, the resentment of her marriage, the worry about the siblings who neither respected nor loved became a distant memory. Those men, although, through and through men, had come to love her, care for her, and respect her. Every night when they would sit by the fire, she would ask them about their family, and with rejoicing, they would spill it out.
The villagers loved her abundantly, although their love came with devotion and admiration. The elderly men of that village would praise her lord husband and Irina, herself. That was fine. They needn't know the details of her complicated family, but the true heroes were those twelve guards. Even Aegon would acknowledge it. She had kept keen eyes on her brother's guards, just so they wouldn't cause any trouble to the villagers. Pyper, Vyl, and Ralf took women to bed, but those women were willing. Just because she had to go to an empty bed, she wasn't willing to restrain them.
To Irina's surprise, the girls of the villages were eager to speak with her, tell their tales of life, while enquiring about the events of a castle. Everyone had a story of their own. A few young maids of her age, decorated Irina's hair with flowers, took her to fresh lakes to give her bath. She even took her time to teach them how to count and play with numbers as Maester Gerard would do, when she had been locked in the tower, by her father. A few enjoyed and even willed to learn. A few were more interested to hear tales of knights and princes and Kings of West, which she would share while gathering them in the evening.
The journey was a brilliant way to associate herself with a new life and for each village they visited, the routine went on and on, but it was more exciting and enthusiastic than the last. At one point, she started forgetting her true goal, which was to claim a dragon, by surrounding herself with men and women, girls and boys, wherever she had set foot. Helping their livelihood had earned a copious amount of love for her to heal all the scars of the past. Whenever she was with girls, she wore her pretty dress to look like a proper lady with dignity, rather than looking dirty, in leather jackets and breeches. She truly rejoiced in spending time with them.
Not all visits ended on a sweet note. Many had lost their crops and there was no way for her to fix that problem. The demands from the castle to send fifteen lambs or three cattle or five boars, every day, for every hundred men in a village had become a struggle. The elderly men put forward their concerns to her ears, but there was no solution to it. She said Vyl the same one night, "Why does that old man keep telling about how many sheep he lost in the Storm? It is not likely for me to ask Aegon to stop demanding them. The dragons need to feed on something else they will start hunting."
"He thinks you can give an ear to their concerns and find a solution to his problems. For most of my life, I never once saw who the lord was until you took me to the castle. The old man thinks you came to his village to hear his problems and tell the same to your husband."
Like a fool she was, she chortled and spat out the sweetened berry wine that she had made from scratch with Billy. "As though my husband would listen to me. All I wanted was to escape his claws, and he sent his men to watch over me, just so I won't escape his territory."
"He cares enough to send men to watch over you. Doesn't he?" Vyl asked.
Although the men he had sent were loyal and simple, Aegon had often done things that would only benefit him. She had been drilled with that knowledge over and over again, with all the mistakes she had made. Irina doubted that Ser Trystane had some grave plans for her, although lately, while they helped the villagers, he often came with a simple smile and offered her every exotic gifts that he would receive from young maids of the village who pined over him and spoke silly stories of what happened with his men while repairing the small folks' houses, japing casually with no flirty comments. The problem was, Irina had lost the tendency to trust. Everything happened in this world for a reason and she would harden her heart, rather than being burned with a stake.
That being said, the truth was, Aegon would not even turn his ear to her requests. He would call her a fool or order her not to leave the tower. Her sour heart hadn't forgiven him, and she was determined to not return to his premise, after how he'd insulted her on their wedding night. She mulled over all the insults she'd been bestowed upon, in solitary, with berry wine, while hearing the villager's bloody tales of dragon tamers and dragon slayers, till her heart had become hard as ice.
After four small villages on those tiny islands, close to one and a half-moon later, they had finally settled to the southern side of Dragonstone, where the Dragonmont loomed above on the other side of the shore. As the sun was setting down, they'd decided to cross the shore the next morning. Inside the cotton flaps of the tent, she rolled around on a straw mattress, unable to find sleep. She had never climbed a tree in the past. Would she be able to climb a mountain of thousand feet? What if that ghastly dragon would never bond with her? Her father had said it threw him in the ocean while he tried to bend it to his wills, and only because of water beneath that he had barely survived. She shouldn't have any doubts now. Life didn't really matter for her. In every village she had given visit, even the rats enquired about which color dragon belonged to her. She needed to have one. She was a Targaryen by birth.
At the hour of the owl, when dawn still hadn't begun, she wandered into the woods to pass water, with hazy thoughts and clouded feelings of the deadly dragon that she had never seen before. Out of nowhere, a thick palm pressed her mouth shut, not even allowing her to breathe, and in panic, when she tried to kick the balls of the man who captured her, he twisted her shoulder and made her look into his eyes, in the moonlight. "Trystane! What in-"
He placed his forefinger on her lips and pointed the same towards the far end of the forest. In the beginning, she noticed nothing and chills went down her spine at the thought of falling into Trystane's trap. She wouldn't survive another assault, especially when she had no power. Her body involuntarily shook, but when she squeezed her eyes properly, she found a source of light at the distance he pointed to. It was a faint, red glow, but she understood there were some other parties on that island.
His lips came to her ears, brushing it lightly. "You have to halt your mission of bonding with a dragon and come with me to Dragonstone. Right Now! You are not safe with a brigand roaming here. Let us leave the party and I will alert Bill to handle them. You are at more risk and I will you to take you to your brother before anything uneventful happens."
Her gaze was set only on the fire, at the farther side of the island. She stood stilled, her hands frozen in fear. Ser Trystane sensitively clutched her frozen fingers in a futile attempt to alert her. In a surprising act, he rubbed both her arms with his bare palms. "You are dead cold, my lady. Don't fear. We will ride to the castle." He whispered and her body switched from having fear to trepidation. "As long as I am alive, I won't let anyone harm you."
Slowly parting from his body, she took feeble steps towards the direction of her tent. Her ears ring with the tinkling noise of bells that she had once heard when she fell in this same situation before. She would not cower. She was stronger. She could win against any monsters in the world. All she needed to find was Paxter, and he would take her safely to the mountain Dragonstone, and if Gods permitted she could find Aegerax… Fuck… The Gods never had given her what she wished. Ser Trystane was close behind her and he pulled her elbows, demanding her to follow him.
Snarling and grounding her teeth, she instantly came up with a plan. "The boatman has left here a small vessel that is enough to carry five men." Ser Trystane said, taking her towards the vessel. "Bill has sent scouts to see how many men are hiding. He will take care of these brigands."
Irina followed his suit to the vessel. When life would only offer harsh lessons, some natural instincts of survival would soon start following. One such was Irina's fine line to determine when to fight or flight. The silver knight rowed the boat, spending all his energy, while Irina shut her eyes close, allowing to calculate the possibility of dying. Did it matter? She had long-lost the need to live when life had not offered her one reason to live for.
Even if it was a tiny fishing vessel, it requires a boat man's strength to use the paddle. Ser Trystane's physical strength was a quick aid, but he was heavily panting when they reached the opposite shore, close to the highest mountain peak of Dragonmont. Irina jumped out of the boat and observed Ser Trystane doing the same to climb out and walk towards the dry sand.
"This place is much more deserted, Irina." He said holding both his hands to his hips, still breathing heavily. Turning around to see the mountain, he glared at the monumental peak, with his back shown to her side. "How are we going–"
A loud crack of wood broke and the splintered pieces of the wooden paddle spindled in the air before her eyes. Ser Trystane's silver hair began coating with red, from the side of his ears, and he turned around to find Irina, in bewilderment and shock. His first reaction was to search for the perpetrator, but when he found Irina's hand holding the broken wooden paddle, he got confused.
"What is wrong with you?" He stuttered, and fell to the dry sand on his knees, holding his ear tight to stop the bleeding.
Irina flared and willfully wished she had her powers in hand. Turning around with a glare and clutching his leather tunic, she gave a tight slap to his cheek. He held his skin with all five fingers, eyes too wide, which bulged in shock. "Do you take me for a fool, Ser Trystan? Do you think I can't understand your subtle motives?" She hissed. "Are you sure there are men sitting there, in the fire, or did you light it yourself, just to create an ambush and isolate me from the party?"
She would have done more damage, but the more she stood close, she feared for her safety. He could unsheathe his sword and kill her the next moment. Not interested in risking such a mishap, she walked so far away from him.
Holding to all her emotions, trusting only to survive this betrayal, Irina hadn't planned what to do further. Perhaps she could take the boat back to her men.
"Irina!" Ser Trystane called, his eyes so red that she mistook for blood. "My head feels funny." He muttered. "Go back to the castle." His feeble voice made her helplessly stupid. "Run to safety…"
"It was you," Irina screamed in anger. "You had set up everything to trap me and kill me!" He should be trying to save himself, now that he was aware that she learned of his plans. Didn't she live with enough snakes to know which would bite? His silver hair was proof of his wrong intention. No man that looked like her brother could be true and good in heart.
"You are a sweet girl. I mean you no harm, my lady. But…" He scanned the place again, trying to shake his head frequently. His vision should have been blurring with the effect of striking the head. "Run along, now."
Irina held the paddle still tight in her hand, hoping he wouldn't try to attack when she truly ran for life. She didn't want to be in the same place as him. The empty shores were filled with monsters. Teardrops started sliding down one after another, and her body shook in fear and anger. Anger that she might have done something truly wrong and had hurt an innocent knight who tried to help her to safety. Anger that she was foolish enough to strike a man by judging his appearance. Anger that she could never be right. Anger at herself for becoming a monster like her siblings.
When she turned to see the opposite shore from where they had come from, small torches were lit, and she could see a chaos of tiny forms rushing about. It wasn't clear, but there seemed to have been true chaos there.
Instantly, her body froze, but this time with regret than fear.
"Ser Trystane!" She sobbed with her stuttering lips and rushed to his aid. He was trying to hold his head in the air between his arms, an effort to stop the bleeding. The bleeding had stopped. It should be a good sign. He could not die in her hands. He was simply doing his duty and truly protecting her. The lit torches and loud cries that echoed could only mean that the opposite side of the shore was getting raided.
Irina wailed pitifully and tore a piece of her gown to wound his head tight with cloth. He grunted for each step of hers.
"I was… I thought… Tell me you don't feel funny. Please!" She cried, holding his shaved face between her hands.
He smiled and brought his hand to brush her hair on the head. "I don't feel too funny, my lady. What wrong did I do, other than to watch over my own sister?"
Irina sucked in a breath, and her heart rapidly beat with the realization of the obvious truth, that she had easily tried to shove away because she had been adamant on the only conclusion that wanted to benefit. Of course, he looked every inch Valyrian, except that he didn't look like her father. She silently cursed her father in her breath and cried even more vehemently. "I was thinking you were plotting to–I didn't know–" She pouted. "You didn't tell, either. Father never introduced you. Nor did Aegon-"
"Your father refused to take me in. I was not born to a high-born woman like Orys. And Lord Aegon could only bring me after your father passed away. Now, I don't care why you attacked me. Obviously, you are a troubled girl. But the sweetest of all." He pinched her cheeks. "My boys worship you. Go to Aegon and tell him that a brigand is searching for you. I have to check on our men."
He struggled to raise, but managed to compose better than she expected. It still felt surreal, as though she was dreaming. To know that she had more and more siblings than she imagined she could have. How many women did my father impregnate? How many bastards are roaming in these tiny islands? It was disappointing to find that her father would rather fuck a poor peasant woman, rather to help them into the castle when the storm would come. Her father grew dark like a monster in her vision, the more time she thought of his mistakes in his lifetime. Had he restrained himself from falling for Lady Agnes, there wouldn't be Irina, and there wouldn't be so much torture to her soul.
That explained why Ser Trystane naturally felt playful around her, or that he became sour after hearing her plight with Aegon. Still, she couldn't bring it in herself to think of him as a brother. Orys was the only true brother she knew. All that matters apart, she wanted to know what happened to Billy, Ben, Ernold, her old man Paxter, Vyl, Pyper and everyone.
"I will come with you." She argued as he pushed the boat into the water.
"I will wait here till you disappear out of my sight. If the fight hadn't taken everyone, I will send a few after you. The cries are still echoing and I can't leave them. All those boys–" He paused, closing his hurting eyes. "I hired them and they are so young to die, my lady."
It was then they heard the thunderous roar of the dragon that shivered the ground beneath them. Aegerax's… In a rushed, pitiful attempt, she ran straight towards the mountain that she had planned on climbing. If she just could reach the top…
"Irina! It is dangerous!" Ser Trystane warned. He was upset that she wasn't obeying him. But she was the lady of Dragonstone, and she could do anything she wished. He was under her command, not the other way around.
Her body began eager and thrilling, for every step she took to run towards the stoney mountain. A sweet ache began spreading, and swift musical voices called her to approach them. Irina felt the bliss of being lifted towards the levitating gravity, towards the black stones, and she thought she was drowning in sweet wine of eternal life. It was the purest pleasure she had received. She knew she was meant to climb. She knew she was meant to take the dragon. Clear, gentle, sweet, tender voices called to her from inside the mountain.
Just when she placed her palm on the huge rock, a sheer force threw her far away, as it sucked into her blood, draining the coldness in her body. She rolled in the mud with the loudest scream, just like the dragon Aegerax, and the dragon echoed her back with a thunderous roar as though it acknowledged her presence.
"Holy shit! Did you just get thrown?" Ser Trystane lifted her in his arms and she unceremoniously stood on her toes, unable to believe the Dragonmont was truly cursed. Or that someone had spelled the whole Dragonmont.
"I think… I think…" She blubbered.
"It is true. The Gods of your father are rejecting you." He claimed calmly, and it irritated her burning skin. Her pale skin was burning like fire, and Ser Trystane himself pulled his arms away from her with a loud hiss.
"No!" She yelled. "The Gods don't reject me." She screamed. "They can't reject me. I have done nothing wrong for the Gods to reject me." Her eyes became dark red in anger. "They can't-" She chanted with tears falling down her cheeks and her knees sinking into the sand.
Her soul was flying so light, and it was easily lifted by the time her tears started drying. So, there goes away the last strand of hope in her life. No dragon to lift away her misery. Her blood was jinxed by some wrong ritual. Or that she was truly a cursed child of her family. With no powers and a hope in claiming a dragon, she began looking for what was capable in her hands.
"Why Trystane? Why would the Gods be cruel to me?" She asked in a heavy heart and blinked up to look at him. "Perhaps, I deserve what I did to those girls. We should save our men. They might need our help."
Rather than answering her question, he looked beyond her, his gaze fixated onto the mountain from where she was thrown away. His eyes bulged, swelled even bigger, and he fell down with an open jaw into the sand. With small tremors that vibrated beneath her toes, a huge shadow loomed over her head. And she turned to see her destiny, eye to eye. Frozen blue to the crystal blue.
There was no more fear, no more worry, no more sadness, no more anger.
Nothing, except for the feeling of belonging.
And she found her love!