A/N: Hope you all are continuing to be safe and sound. Currently dealing with some job hunting and how things are rolling back given the rise in cases. Stressful time for all, but we can make it through.
As I said, I will try to update regularly as best as I can.
BRANDON III
Brandon kept his furs close to his torso, as the chill at the top of the mountain reminded him of what it was like back in the North. But once he and his party traversed this mountain, all they would need to do was to climb down to the riverbed and follow the stream to Strongsong, seat of House Belmore.
Brandon vaguely remembered who the Belmores were and what they did when the Andals led by Artys Arryn fought them at the Battle of the Seven Stars. They tended to have red hair, atypical of most houses of First Men origin, and they fought bravely with Robar Royce until the Bronze King was killed in battle and they were forced to acknowledge House Arryn as the new King of the Mountain and Vale. Brandon couldn't tell how many men of House Belmore fought against them at Seagard, but he counted on the possibility that they didn't like their Arryn overlords and thus could be persuaded to change sides.
Of course, Brandon had to be careful on how he approached them. The Belmores were also likely to be loyal to House Arryn because they wanted to ensure stability in the Vale, and any change to that would make any lordly house anxious as to what may come next. And even though the Vale mountain clans and the Belmores were both of First Men origins, too much time had passed since they were neighbors, and they might kill the men of the mountain the moment they saw them out of prejudice. One thing the Umbers and the Belmores might have in common, if they kill them that is.
Which brought Brandon to the Vale mountain clans. It wasn't hard to persuade the Black Ears to join him once the Moon Brothers declared their support, but he really wanted the Painted Dogs and the Burned Men to also side with them, as both held a lot of power over the rest of the clans.
The Painted Dogs killed Roland Arryn, which was quite an accomplishment since they had to maneuver their way past his knights and strike him down in the dead of winter. If the Painted Dogs were a house in the North, they would fit in very well and might even rival us and the Boltons given enough time.
The Burned Men were going to be trickier to convince. Feared by the rest of the clans and led by war chiefs called "red hands," their customs included a very brutal coming-of-age ceremony, in which they mutilate themselves by burning off a body part of their choosing, usually a finger or nipple. The important the body part burned, the more prestige the man obtained. What would they say if I decided to burn my cock off? It certainly is an indication of manhood, so wouldn't that defeat the purpose? he mused.
But should Brandon succeed in persuading both the Painted Dogs and the Burned Men to join their side, having the rest of the Vale mountain clans follow would be relatively straightforward. At the same time, he couldn't just wait for their responses to the Moon Brother emissaries, since they had to continue the advance. So, Brandon had the idea of going straight to Belmore ahead of the army, which Rhaenys and Bethany and Lyanara Mormont were very against.
"You'd risk your life so willingly, Bran?" Lyanara was incredulous.
"Time is not on our side, despite the victories we were able to obtain everywhere else," they all heard about the triumph at Stonebridge and at the Slayne. "And Princess Visenya and Lord Umber need to have the pressure eased off of them, as they won't be able to hold off the Vale houses in the proper forever."
Visenya, Marlon Umber, and Maerys Tarareon all informed them that they were able to fortify their positions on the river after their own victory, but thousands of Valemen were about to converge on their position and surround them, their only lifeline being the boats that sailed to and from the Blackwater Bay and braving enemy arrows since the Vale fleet was crippled after Gulltown and there were still no Braavosi sellsword ships sighted.
"Come now, Bran," Bethany crossed her arms. "You kept repeating to us the importance of persuading as many houses of First Men origin to come join us and while we all agree that it is a sensible approach, you're not being patient."
"Bethany, we can't just demolish every house that stands against us without offering them a way out," Brandon explained. "It's clear that the main instigators of this war, the Lannisters and the Gardeners, cannot hope to maintain their crowns, their titles, and their lands when all is finished. But regarding the lesser houses, why fight them and use up more of our energy than necessary if we can save it by having them turn cloak?"
"He does have a point," Rhaenys nodded her head. "We need more men to fight alongside us and the troops we have now might be enough to hold the lines, but not enough to deliver the punch needed to finally make our enemies collapse. Remember, we have dragons, but if we use them too often, they could become a weakness. So far, we are proving ourselves on the field of battle and we must continue to do so. And winning battles is dependent on we make utilize our resources while acquiring new ones."
Brandon became more impressed with Rhaenys, as she was proving herself to be a very good strategist alongside her familiarity with tactics. "Well said, Your Grace. So, while we fight the Valemen, we have to begin the process of having them switch allegiances. And I know that some of the First Men houses have an axe to grind against the Arryns."
"But that is still quite a chance to jump at, Lord Snow," Ondrew Poole stated. "And we cannot sacrifice our pace through the mountains in order to wait for what the Belmores have to say, or we won't obtain the chance at striking the Eyrie from the north."
"Ondrew," Brandon addressed his friend. "I wouldn't be saying this if I had any intention of risking our troops for a gamble. I admit that my approaching the Belmores is exactly that, but aren't we in a gamble ourselves? All of us are risking much being in the south. If we triumph, we get everything. If we don't, we lose much of what we hold dear."
Ondrew bobbed his head, seeing Brandon's point.
"So, I trust that Sijurn and his kin will lead us through the mountains and in the valley near Strongsong?" Lord Ryswell eyed the co-chief of the Moon Brothers.
"Just follow our lead and you'll be fine," Sijurn spoke up. As practically the only representative from the Vale mountain clans, he had to be included in the war council. "But before you lowlanders proceed farther, I have just received word from our scouts around the Eyrie. Queen Sharra Arryn is about to send five thousand men northwards, probably towards Heart's Home."
Most in the tent turned their heads at that news. "Why is that?" Lord Darry asked.
"Maybe to safeguard the coasts against any more landings from our fleet," Rhaenys guessed. "Their fleet is still not in any condition to challenge us and now they've seen what happens when their coasts are exposed, since we were able to land an army in the Vale proper and beat them on their own ground. They're not going to make the same mistake twice."
Brandon saw his chance. "Which now makes my approaching Strongsong more important than ever. If we are to ensure that there is a riverbed for us to use, we either persuade the Belmores to join us, or we attack in force, but you all know of my position on the matter."
Sijurn, Rhaenys, the Mormont sisters, Ondrew, and the rest nodded their consent to the plan. Once the tent cleared, Rhaenys sat down, rubbing her ever-growing belly.
"The baby is fine, Brandon," she assured him. "Stop worrying so much."
"Oh, I trust you, Rhaenys. But can you fight still, especially since we're getting closer to the babe being born?" Brandon knew how long it took for a newborn babe to grow in a mother's womb and they were now in the advanced stages.
"It shouldn't be bad," Rhaenys answered. "I can still ride Meraxes and use my bow. But if we're talking about running around and crawling in the mud… can't help you there."
Brandon chuckled. "Don't push yourself, Rhaenys. This child," he pointed to her belly. "Will determine how the next generation will live. Of course, we'll have to do the hard work, but keeping what was won will be on this babe."
"That's certainly a lot to expect from a child who hasn't been born yet," Rhaenys expressed her concern.
"Oh, I won't burden the babe, but the expectations must be emphasized at an early age, because this land doesn't need another royal who plays all the time," he said with frankness.
"The baby won't be, as will the next ones that come. I'll make sure of it," Rhaenys promised.
"I know you won't," Brandon admitted. "I just ask that you won't be as complacent as other rulers have been in the past. We need you and the rest of the dragons with their wits sharp."
"With you by our side, I'm sure that we'll be safe, since you have can peek into the future with those green eyes of yours," Rhaenys teased.
"Not exactly a peek, just strong potentialities. I personally am the type of man that believes that while our lives are dictated by the gods, we must also put in our best efforts and not allow others to do the work for us. Torrhen is like that also, but he worries too much about the past. No wonder why he aged thirty years," Brandon jested.
"I like the sound of that," Rhaenys processed his words. "The gods not helping those who don't help themselves. That certainly is different from what I had learned, but at the same time, there's much truth in that."
"Isn't that what we should all be doing? The gods gave us certain skills, but we should use it to the best of our abilities, right?"
Rhaenys tapped on her belly. "You hear that? You have work to do, but you will play also. I'll make sure of it."
Brandon remembered his exchange with Rhaenys, after which she took off on Meraxes to scout out ahead of the army and in the areas around Heart's Home. He sensed that some uneasiness from her being there, but he trusted that she would know to be safe and not do anything rash.
Using some of the guides that Sijurn gave Brandon, he alongside Autumn trekked through the high mountains of the Vale. He had to admit that had it not been for the Moon Brothers siding with them, he would have had a difficult time navigating through the various crevices of the Vale. He had only some experience with climbing through mountains from many years ago, when his father took him to the Sea Dragon Point, but those couldn't compare with the peaks he had to negotiate at the moment.
Eventually, Brandon, the party of Mormont men and Vale mountain clansmen, and Autumn arrived at the riverbed, slowly making their way down the slope until they rested on the southern shore.
Brandon drank from the river, deeming it very fresh since they were close to the source in the mountains and as far as they knew, no towns or castles were behind them. But they had to be careful, as they were now in territory where the enemy could fight them on even ground, and their enemies knew it better than they did.
Remembering where Strongsong was located, the party ventured eastwards, following the river and being wise as to not be too close to the banks since there could be patrols of Valemen moving about. And thanks to the Vale mountain clansmen, they were able to hide in various caverns where they could build a fire without being discovered.
After a few days of just walking and hiding in between the mountains, they finally arrived at Strongsong, which they viewed from a higher point.
Situated near a series of lakes, Strongsong was placed advantageously near a good source of water and provided protection to the farmers who tilled their lands not far away. What was more, it was elevated just high enough to negate the use of ladders but low enough to the ground where one only had to walk up the ramp to get inside.
But whatever Belmore built Strongsong certainly didn't count on being struck from a higher point in the mountains, as they thought that their height from the riverbank already granted them protection. Put some archers on this mountain and we slowly pick them off while allowing our troops to move closer and break down the gates, Brandon thought.
However, they were not there to fight and would only do so should Lord Belmore elect to resist them.
"You men, can you cover me while I go down there? It's best if it's just me and Autumn," Brandon told the party.
"Are you sure about that, Lord Brandon?" one of the Mormont men asked with apprehension.
"I'll be fine. But if they try to do me harm, warn them with an arrow," Brandon ordered. "Do not come down until I say it's safe, understood?" They all nodded, allowing him and his direwolf to proceed towards Strongsong's causeway.
Grabbing a stick and tying a piece of white cloth to it, Brandon waved it with Autumn keeping close as they got closer to the seat of House Belmore. Eventually, the farmers who tilled the fields looked up in confusion, not expecting a northman and red direwolf to be so audacious as to approach their lord without an army behind him.
Just before Brandon stepped onto the causeway, someone shouted, "That's far enough!" He looked up and saw a line of crossbows and archers aiming at him, surprised to see one of their foes at their doorstep. "What's your business here?"
"I come here under a flag of truce, to discuss important matters with your lord, if he is here at the moment," Brandon answered.
"Identify yourself!" one of the men hollered.
"My name is Brandon Snow, Hand to King Aegon and Queen Rhaenys Targaryen, and brother of Torrhen Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."
The crossbowmen and archers looked at each other with astonishment, clearly stumped as to why one of the most important men fighting with the dragons was there. They only knew because they had heard about the declaration from the dragons and because their lord talked to them about who were the senior commanders.
"Stay where you are, my lord. Lord Belmore will treat with you," another called out while one of the crossbowmen ran to the keep.
Soon, the gates creaked open, with a grizzled man with long red hair and a bushy red beard strolled out with an armed guard, all carrying the bells sigil of House Belmore. The red-haired men stopped in front of Brandon, failing to hide his wariness of Autumn as he never saw a direwolf before.
"Never expected the Stark bastard to be here," the red-haired man started with.
"Never expected Strongsong to be still well-guarded," Brandon noted. "I'd figured that you'd be all in the field by now, answering the call of Sharra Arryn."
"If you think that I will blindly take orders from that Reachwoman, you best think again," the red-haired man turned his head to spit on the ground.
"And who might you be?" Brandon asked.
"I am Gwayne of House Belmore, Lord of Strongsong," Lord Belmore identified himself.
"Good to make your acquaintance, my lord," Brandon eased up.
"Can't say that I say the same, Lord Snow," Lord Gwayne eyed up from down to up. "You are one of the important men fighting for the Valyrians and yet you come here with just your wolf pet and no army. I would say that you have balls coming here, but you having that can easily be seen as major stupidity on your part."
"Well, I will admit that coming here was a large gamble on my part, with Queen Rhaenys herself expressing some reservation, but I wouldn't have gotten this far if I kept my head down. And I don't think you would kill me without listening to what I have to say," Brandon showed his fearlessness to Lord Belmore.
"Why would I listen to anything that you have to say? As far as I'm concerned, you are my adversary and therefore my first action would be to kill you," Gwayne challenged.
Brandon waved his hand, with the arrow soon landing near Lord Belmore and his guards. They all looked around anxiously.
"You're incorrect in assuming that I came here alone, and without certain guarantees of my safety. There are currently a thousand men aiming down on you with their bows and one wrong move on your part will see everyone here in great danger," Brandon bluffed. "But I have no intention of harming men that have done nothing to me so far and would have more to gain by treating with me."
Lord Belmore crossed his arms, assessing his options. "You know that if you step inside this castle, your life will be in my hands and whatever men you brought with you cannot help you."
"That's what guest rights are for," Brandon pointed out. "More importantly, if you were so loyal to the Arryns, you wouldn't have spit on the ground, and you wouldn't have disparaged Queen Sharra. I'm guessing that you are not so committed to his war as other houses probably are."
Lord Gwayne sighed before signaling one of his servants to come forward, with a plate of bread and bowl of salt. "But if you say anything that would waste my time, Lord Snow, I will kick you out and the next time we meet will be on the battlefield."
Brandon dipped the bread in the salt and put it in his mouth. "Then, I do hope that you like the smell of burnt flesh and the feel of flames should you choose to fight us."
Lord Belmore's eyes shifted uncomfortably at that notion, having heard about what the dragons did so far at that point, before gesturing for Brandon to follow him into the keep.
Walking into Lord Gwayne's solar, Brandon was allowed to keep his sword and have Autumn sit beside him after both agreed not to engage in violence until at least they were done discussing what was going to be discussed.
"As I have stated before, Lord Snow, you've taken a great risk coming here without your dragon queens or any of the troops further south. That means whatever you have to say must be worth my time, or so I hope," Lord Gwayne began.
"My lord, I am confident that once I have given my proposition, you will find it in your best interest in switching sides and fighting for the ones that will triumph," Brandon answered.
"You seem very sure on how this war will end, even though the odds are still stacked against you given the disparity of numbers between us."
"I would not put my faith in strength of numbers, Lord Gwayne. Numbers didn't help countless kings and rulers, and they certainly couldn't stop Black Harren from meeting his demise at Harrenhal. And even though King Aegon and Queen Rhaenys have been outnumbered still, they are continuing to win against such odds, and they won't stop until their goal has been achieved," Brandon explained.
"I wouldn't forget that the reason why their fortunes turned was because of your northern brethren coming south to their rescue, and it still baffles me on why Torrhen Stark gave up his crown."
Brandon chuckled. "You wouldn't believe it, even if I tried to explain it to you."
"You've come to say your piece. Might as well tell me why Torrhen Stark bent the knee to the dragons, who have no history of being kings themselves," Gwayne shrugged.
"All right," Brandon decided. "I don't know how much you believe in the magical aspects of this world, but in this land, so much of the magic that existed from the time of the pact between the First Men and the children of the forest disappeared when the Andals came, slaughtered the children, cut down the weirwoods, and leaving only the north as the domain of the First Men."
"You don't need to explain history to me, Lord Snow. I still have my house's weirwood even after so much time has passed," Lord Belmore interrupted.
Brandon pressed on. "I can't see clearly on what will come in the future, but magic must be preserved and brought back to its former strength. However, the magic of the First Men and of the children of the forest is too weak and therefore needs new sources. The dragons are that source and the combination of both will lead to something stronger."
Lord Belmore looked unconvinced. "What has magic have to do with Torrhen Stark bending the knee?"
"My brother Torrhen might have been a king, but he can't unite the Seven Kingdoms. He's not the type of man that can do it, but he understands that countless others have tried to expand their realms and have failed. What makes the dragons different in their approach is that they are fighting for their survival and the only way to survive is to unite Westeros into one land. After all, the Faith and the Starry Sept have declared war on them and if the dragons lose, they won't stop."
"Let me get this right," Lord Gwayne began to process Brandon's words. "You mean to tell me that your brother, King in the North, surrendered his crown because he bet his life on the dragons uniting Westeros and out of a desire to bring back magic to this land?"
"It wasn't him who came up with that idea. I did," Brandon corrected him.
"Why would he listen to you? You might be brothers, but I wouldn't make such a major decision based on my brother's hunch."
Brandon exhaled. "Then, you don't understand what kind of bond I share with Torrhen. Despite me being a bastard, his mother Queen Gilliane of House Mormont treated me like one of her own and never made me feel any less because of how I was born. Moreover, I have something that hasn't been seen south of the Neck for two thousand years, something that has now become legend in these parts."
Lord Gwayne took a moment before figuring out what Brandon was referring to. "Are you saying that you have the greensight?"
"Very good, my lord," Brandon nodded.
The Lord of Strongsong burst in laughter, clearly disbelieving Brandon. "Surely you jest, Lord Snow. There hasn't been a greenseer for thousands of years and any chance of someone having that ability has been gone since the children were wiped out."
"Sorry to disappoint," Brandon shrugged off his lack of faith. "But if you need evidence, take a look at Autumn, my direwolf. Only those with the blood of the Warg King can hope to bond with a creature like this."
Lord Belmore glanced at Autumn before his eyes returned to Brandon. "So… this whole conquest of Westeros was started because all of you wanted to preserve magic. I'll admit, that's quite original."
Brandon crossed his arms. "You still don't believe me?"
"With respect, Lord Snow, I do not. I might be descended from the First Men and I might still pray in the godswood, but I have more faith in what I can see. Swords, armor, knights, I believe in their potential because I can see them. Coin, gold, silver, I believe in their potential because I can see them and have witnessed how they work. Grain, corn, soil, I believe in their potential because I myself have experienced how they nourish our bodies. If you wish to amuse me with stories of magic, you've chosen the wrong man, Lord Snow," Lord Belmore revealed the depths of skepticism.
Brandon narrowed his eyes, slowly understanding what had become of the First Men houses south of the Neck. With the exception of the Blackwoods, the rest would need more than his word if they wanted to have a stake in the new realm.
"Understandable," Brandon admitted. "But if you'll allow me, I have something to show you in the godswood. If you still lack the gift of belief afterwards, I will leave in peace and hope that none of us causes great injury upon each other."
Lord Gwayne sighed before gesturing to Brandon to follow him. Leaving the solar and moving their way through Strongsong, they came to the godswood and thus the weirwood.
Although smaller than the one at Winterfell, Brandon sensed that it was a healthy heart tree, with the Belmores clearly showing their faith in the old gods from how well they maintained it. Walking closer to it, he placed his hand on the white bark and closed his eyes.
Oh, lords over our ancestors, please show Lord Belmore a token for his faith. While we must have faith in you, sometimes we need to know that you are watching us. Please reveal yourselves to Lord Belmore through me so that he may see the light, Brandon prayed in silence.
Suddenly, he felt a jerk in his body, which happened whenever a surge occurred. His hand still on heart tree, he felt his eyes roll back as he felt another presence enter his body, the essence not his own. But in the deep, dark haziness of his mind, he saw an elderly approach him, with bleached red hair and a noticeable slump.
"They had to interrupt my slumber," the old man groaned.
"Who are you?" Brandon asked.
"Terrance Belmore, Lord of Strongsong. And they told me that I had to speak to my grandson," the old man answered.
"Your grandson is Gwayne Belmore?" Brandon inquired.
"Yes. I remember when he was still a babe, but I never saw him grow past three name-days. Anyways, I have things to do in the afterlife, so let's make this quick. Tell me my grandson to come touch the heart tree."
For a dead man, he can be quite snippy, Brandon observed.
"I can hear you," Lord Terrance was annoyed.
His eyes going back to normal, Brandon turned around and saw Lord Gwayne, who was perplexed as to what was going on. "My lord, please touch the heart tree."
"Why?" Lord Gwayne cocked his head at him.
"Just humor me, please. I think you'll like the touch of a weirwood this time."
With visible hesitation, Lord Gwayne walked towards the heart tree and placed his hand on the white bark. Immediately, he shuddered before his body froze in place, no doubt the effects of the connection with the old gods affecting him. He's probably thinking he's insane for seeing his dead grandsire.
Brandon could've listened in on the conversation given his powers, but he decided to allow grandsire and grandson to have some words in private. He trusted that whatever the previous Lord of Strongsong had to say to his grandson would be enough to sway Lord Gwayne of the validity of Brandon's abilities and make his case to side with the dragons stronger.
Several minutes passed, as Lord Gwayne's body remained still. The Belmore guards looked on in bewilderment, not understanding what was going on but knowing that whatever was happening was beyond logical sense. Some of the greatest things to happen took place outside of the realm of logic, which is something that they have to get used to.
Eventually, Lord Gwayne fell backward, the touch of the old gods finally releasing his spirit, and he came to. Standing up, he stood back up and turned to Lord Snow.
"What in the Seven Hells are you?" he pointed at Brandon.
"I am what I say I am," Brandon outstretched his arms. "As I said before, if what you've seen was not enough to convince you, then I shall leave in peace."
"I've had… the most stirring conversation with my grandsire, something that I never thought possible. Do you know what he told me?" Gwayne made clear his astonishment.
"The usual things that a lord would say?" Brandon guessed.
"He said, 'Everything that has been taken from our family can be gained back, but only after siding with the ones who can bring magic back.' For a moment, I thought I was seeing things, but then he told me how my father got his scar, which he never told anyone but myself and my mother. I never thought that this day would come."
Brandon nodded in understanding. "What will be your decision then, my lord?"
Lord Gwayne twiddled with his fingers before looking at Brandon in his eyes. "I am willing to engage in further negotiations, but whatever decision I make regarding my changing sides, I have to see whichever of your dragon queens. Since they can act on King Aegon's and Prince Jaenyx's behalf, anything they say will have sanction from House Targaryen."
"Fair enough," Brandon acquiesced. "But before we do, may I request accommodations for my men in this castle and send word to the rest of the army that will come to not attack?"
"You do that, Lord Snow," Lord Belmore consented.
Brandon walked outside of Strongsong and signaled to the rest of the Mormont men and Vale mountain clansmen that it was safe to come down. The guards were astonished that it was a small party instead of the large force Brandon talked about. Lord Gwayne could only laugh in amusement at his ruse.
"I guess having magic makes you more devious, huh?"
"Would you like another demonstration?" Brandon japed.
"Not unless you want your teeth caved in with an ale cup."
Autumn growled, making Lord Gwayne jump back in fear. "He might have something to say about that."
The guards were wary of the northerners that were being settled in the guest quarters, but they were more worried about the people they viewed as savages being allowed near their posts. Understandably, Lord Gwayne was hesitant on letting members of the Moon Brothers in, but Brandon reassured him that they were allowed in after being washed and dressed in proper clothes. The Moon Brothers grumbled, but it was a small price to pay for warm beds and hot food.
Brandon and Lord Gwayne discussed more of the terms after the Belmores switched sides, which mostly included an expansion on their land holdings and certain rights as the first house in the Vale to declare support. But Brandon had to be careful on how much he had to offer, since he needed to reserve as much as he could for the other First Men houses in the Vale, particularly the Royces at Runestone. He knew that if they switched sides, they would make a powerful ally and provide them with troops and influence needed to take the Vale and then march on the Eyrie. How they would storm the castle in the high mountains was a matter that they would deliberate in the future.
The next morning, Brandon heard dragon shrieks echoing against the mountain sides. Jumping out of bed and dressing up, he ran to the ramparts and narrowed his eyes as he scanned each side from his vantage point.
From the east, he saw the silver shape of Meraxes flying towards Strongsong, but she was staggering. What's going on?
Running outside of the gates with Autumn at his side, he watched as Meraxes made a rough landing on one of the fields, carving a ditch as she skidded to a stop. Looking closely, he could make out some cuts on the skin. But what caught his attention was a large pole that had pierced Meraxes' right leg, the pole resembling a crossbow bolt with its sharp point protruding through the width of the limb.
Moving to the dragon's side, Brandon saw Rhaenys struggling to keep Meraxes calm as she cried out in pain. He helped her down as she dropped her bow and quiver and placed her hands on her belly. As soon as she got down, she went for the bolt.
"We have to get this out!" she grabbed onto it, trying to pull it out herself. But her exertions caused more painful screams to come out from Meraxes' mouth.
By now, the guards of Strongsong and the people around it looked on with bewilderment, as this was the first time that they had even seen a dragon. But this was also the first time that they saw a dragon hurt, which could spell trouble should the wrong people find out.
"Rhaenys, you can't do it by yourself," Brandon moved to where she was. "It's too big."
"But she's hurt!" she cried out. "I can't bear to see her like this."
"Then help me help you," Brandon whistled to some of the Mormont men, who ran to his position. "All right, men. This is going to take some effort. The only way that we can get this thing out of the dragon's leg is to push out to the other side. It's too deep to pull it out and we cannot wound the dragon more than it already has."
"How do you know how to heal a dragon?" one of the Mormont men questioned.
"I've seen wounds like this, but with other men. We try to pull it out while it's this deep, we'll do more harm than good. Trust me," he faced Rhaenys. "I need you to calm Meraxes down and help her through it. You're her rider and therefore, she needs you."
"Okay," Rhaenys placed her hands on Meraxes' snout. "It's going to be okay. Just one moment and it'll be over." Meraxes snorted in fear, but she trusted her rider. "Do it."
"All right, men. On the count of three. One. Two. Three!"
With all of their might, Brandon and the Mormont men pushed the shaft through, causing Meraxes to bellow out. Fortunately for all, the shaft fell the ground, but now, blood poured out of her wound.
"How do you plug a dragon's wound?" one of the Mormont men asked.
"You can't," Rhaenys answered. "It has to heal by itself. Just give Meraxes some food and a wide berth, and she'll be fine."
"You heard her," Brandon ordered before the Mormont men ran off to find some animal carcasses while making space for the dragon by guarding her. "What happened?"
"I was scouting out near Heart's Home to see where the reinforcements would be coming. But when I got low, we were met by a hail of arrows. While I was trying to fly away, I felt as if something kicked Meraxes hard. I looked down and saw that spear lodged in her leg. I was able to guide us out of there and I came here, hoping that Strongsong was in our hands by now," Rhaenys explained.
"Lord Belmore needs to speak with you before he makes a decision, but that's not important," Brandon expressed worry. "How did our enemies find a way to hurt a dragon?"
"I don't know," Rhaenys was shaking in fear. "I didn't even know it was possible."
"All right. I think the first thing we need to do right now is calm down and let calmer minds deliberate on how and why this happened," Brandon took charge. "After that, we'll send a message to Princess Visenya, King Aegon, and Prince Jaenyx, warning them that the enemy might have a tool that can hurt the dragons, so they must be careful."
"And then?" Rhaenys asked with expectation.
"And then, we have to continue the march once the rest of the army comes here. We still have a war to fight."
"Well, if that's your conclusion, then I shall be in the vanguard," Rhaenys picked up her bow.
"I don't think that's a good idea. Meraxes needs to heal, you're with child, and—"
"Enough," Rhaenys cut him off. "They hurt Meraxes, and I want retribution. Just because my dragon needs some time to heal doesn't mean I'll rest. These bastards will pay."
Brandon respected Rhaenys' desire, but he knew that any action would need to wait once they had a better idea of what was going on. "I won't stop you, Rhaenys. But for now, let Meraxes rest and wait for the army to come. Then, we can think about getting payback."
Rhaenys placed her head on Meraxes' snout, whispering to her that everything will be all right. Then, she followed Brandon inside Strongsong, where she would have to rest and then have Lord Belmore declare for the dragons.
A/N: I felt that we needed to know how Brandon was faring in the Vale. And now, he was able to get the first Vale house to switch sides. But it's not going to be that easy with each house.
The important point of this chapter was the weapon. Given the Ghiscari sellsword's lack of loyalty to Loren, I saw him as selling his designs to the highest bidder, one of them being Sharra Arryn. And I wanted to show the realistic effects of the scorpion, not that crap shown in Season 8 where Rhaegal was so easily taken down. At the same time, no one has ever used the weapon, so the fact that they even landed a hit was a one-in-a-million chance. That's what D&D disregarded because they wanted the dragons and add more "dramatic effect" (WTF does that accomplish other than adding forced tension?). Rant over.
But now, the dragons will be to careful, and it won't be the last threat against the dragons that they encounter.