The Riverlands ― South of the Gods Eye…
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOHH!*" Vaelor let out a loud roar, shaking the ground beneath him.
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!*" Vhagar responded with a fierce roar of his own, clearly showing her displeasure at the arrival of the Swiftrunner.
The two dragons sized each other up, their massive forms casting long shadows over the terrain, each standing protectively behind their riders, poised to strike at any moment. With a deep, resonant growl, Vaelor unfurled his black wings; the sound of his wings slicing through the air echoed like thunder, a warning to all who dared to oppose him. He emitted a threatening hiss, a sound reverberating through the valley and sending shivers down the spines of those who witnessed the standoff. Flames flickered and danced along his razor-sharp teeth, illuminating the area with a fiery glow. Vhagar, undeterred and a seasoned veteran of a hundred battles, responded with a low rumble that resonated deep within her chest, a sound that spoke of ancient strength. Her vast and powerful jade-green wings stretched wide, casting an imposing silhouette against the twilight. The two dragons stood as titans, each waiting for the slightest sign that the other would make a move. The ground beneath them trembled slightly as if the very earth recognized the weight of the moment, the inevitability of the confrontation that loomed on the horizon.
"*RRAAAAAAOOOOOHH!*"
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!*"
Vaelor's tail was gracefully coiled and curved as it arched upwards. Then, with a powerful surge, it unfurled, the muscles rippling beneath the surface before swiftly crashing down onto the ground with a thunderous impact that sent tremors through the earth and rattled the nearby trees. Dust and debris erupted around it, and the sound echoed like a thunderclap, signaling the Swiftrunner's ferocity. The spines along his neck and back elevated, each slender membrane shimmering with a vivid crimson hue in an aggressive display. This striking display signaled his readiness for battle and warning to anyone who dared to stand against him. The vibrant color seemed to pulse with life, a visual manifestation of his will. Perceiving this as a challenge, Vhagar stood on her hind legs. Her tail arced gracefully before crashing down with equal ferocity, shaking the earth beneath them and sending a tremor rippling through the landscape. The ground quaked as if acknowledging her supremacy, and the trees swayed precariously, their roots straining against the soil as if they were being gently uprooted; leaves fluttered down like confetti, bending slightly as if bowing to her might. With a mighty flap of her wings, Vhagar unleashed a deafening roar that echoed across the Riverlands, a sound so loud it could shake the very foundations of Storm's End itself. Her roar reverberated through the air, clashing with Vaelor's own fierce cry in a tumultuous proclamation of her dominance. The two massive creatures locked their eyes, their gazes fierce and unyielding. Their roars continued to intertwine in a primal display of raw power and primal instinct to intimidate the other. Yet, neither showed any signs of backing down.
"*RRAAAAAAOOOOOHH!*"
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!*"
As the two dragons continued to circle one other, their massive feet causing reverberations in the ground through their claws, Aemond's mind drifted back to the previous occasion he had encountered the Swiftrunner, a moment etched in his memory like a scar. It had been in King's Landing amidst the chaos of the coup attempt, a time when the city was rife with treachery and uncertainty. Back then, Vaelor had only measured a mere 248 feet in length, a formidable dragon in his own right, but still dwarfed by the might of Vhagar, who had been a towering presence even then. Now, Vaelor had grown to an impressive 310 feet, nearly matching Vhagar's size of 330 feet. When he first claimed Vhagar on the windswept shores of Driftmark as a ten-year-old boy in the dead of night, Aemond felt an overwhelming sense of power and invincibility. The oldest and largest dragon in the world, the last remaining dragon from the days of Aegon's Conquest of Westeros, was his, yet here was Vaelor, an unexpected rival that seemed to have materialized from seemingly out of nowhere to challenge that supremacy and toppling him from his lofty perch. The Swiftrunner's very existence threatened him. But how was this possible? How could this dragon have grown at such an extraordinary rate? It was utterly baffling and appeared to contradict all rational explanations. Aemond had always understood that dragons, like all creatures, had their own growth rate dictated by their ancestry, breed, age, environmental factors, diet, and overall duration in captivity. But Vaelor's accelerated growth defied any logic known to man.
Could it be whispers of ancient magics and forgotten rites that could accelerate a dragon's growth? Blood magic? Had Vaelor been nurtured in secret, perhaps even fed on the rarest of meats or imbued with some arcane essence that allowed him to thrive beyond what was allowed for a dragon of House Targaryen? Or was it the bond between Vaelor and his rider so profound that it fueled the dragon's growth in ways that were previously thought impossible?
The balance of power felt like it was shifting; the scales had been tipped to an uncertain outcome – perhaps one of mutually assured self-destruction. And because of that, Aemond felt insulted and humiliated at his perceived newfound vulnerability once again. "Grrrr!" he snarled.
Alys, sensing the upcoming battle, quietly withdrew to a secure location. If the four were preoccupied with each other and she remained out of harm's way, they wouldn't detect her presence. You will die here in this place.
"Dragon in front, wildfire at your back…" Aeonar hollered, his blood-coated eyes piercing at Aemond. "There's only one way this ends, Aemond! With fire and blood!" He gripped the rope of his dragon's saddle nettings. "I, Aeonar Targaryen, the First of My Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to the Iderennī Izulyz Ampā Nopāzma (Trial of the Fourteen Hells)!"
Aemond's lips curled into a sly grin, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eye. He was a man of many talents, having immersed himself in history and philosophy, honed his body into that of a deadly warrior, and soared through the skies as a dragonrider like his fellow Targaryen relatives. Each of these pursuits had shaped him, carving out a complex identity that was both feared and respected. Memories from childhood flickered in his mind, particularly the teachings imparted by his elder half-brother, who had been both a mentor and a rival guiding him through the intricate tapestry of their family's legacy. He recalled the Andal traditions of law and justice, notably the Trial by Combat and its variant, the Trial by Seven, where champions fought for the honor of their lords and the truth of their claims. Yet, another, more obscure ritual lingered in the shadows of his memory: the Trial of the Fourteen Hells—an ancient custom of the Valyrian Freehold, nearly all but forgotten to the sands of time, reserved for dragonlords who had been declared guilty of high treason, a crime that threatened the very fabric of their society. According to the historical texts recovered, two of Old Valyria's dragonlords would ascend to the heavens while mounted on their dragons, engaging in a deadly duel where only one would emerge victorious and walk out alive. At the same time, the other would be condemned to the depths of infamy, their name and legacy extinguished like a flickering flame. The stakes were nothing less than life and death, the fate of the accused hanging in the balance as they faced the wrath of the skies. It was a stark conflict, pitting his Vhagar against Aeonar's Vaelor in a battle for survival. "And so it shall be, brother," he remarked.
Aeonar commanded Vaelor to lower his neck, and with a careful motion, he mounted the dragon's back, his movements somewhat rigid. The Swiftrunner shifted beneath him as he hissed again, filling the air with flame. Meanwhile, Aemond vaulted lightly onto Vhagar, who roared at Vaelor. He secured the four short chains that connected his belt to the saddle, ensuring that he was firmly anchored to the beast, ready for the aerial dance that was about to unfold. Seated firmly in his saddle, Aeonar felt the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He clicked the sharp metallic blades on his middle finger and thumb together, producing a tiny spark that flickered like a firefly. A sly grin spread across his face, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he readied himself to unleash a devious surprise upon Aemond and Vhagar. He could see Aemond, focused and determined, his eye locked on him, unaware of the trap that would be sprung.
"*RRAAAAAAOOOOOHH!*"
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!*"
Vhagar and Vaelor reared up on their hind legs, unfurling their powerful wings in a display of dominance while letting out thunderous roars aimed at one another. The air crackled with tension, a palpable energy that seemed to ripple through the very fabric of the realm. Each dragon's roar echoed like a storm, reverberating off the hills and plains and sending birds flying into the sky. The ground trembled beneath their immense weight as if nature held its breath in anticipation of the coming clash. The realm couldn't have two alpha dragons, a precarious balance that could not endure. With neither willing to back down, the stage was prepared for an epic clash of titans: the Queen of All Dragons against the Swiftrunner, the Black Dread Reincarnate. As they circled each other like gladiators, each searching for the other's weakness, the air filled with the scent of sulfur and smoke, remnants of their fiery breath.
As Vhagar and Vaelor both prepared to unleash a torrent of flame, Vaelor quickly lowered his head and crouched down, his powerful legs coiling like springs, and raised his back high into the air. Aemond, caught in the moment, felt a jolt of surprise as he turned his gaze toward Aeonar. The sight was startling; Aeonar stood poised and resolute, firmly gripping his YiTish bow with a steady hand. An arrow, fitted with an armor-piercing tip that gleamed wickedly, was aimed directly at Aemond, its fletching fluttering slightly in the breeze as if sensing the danger it was about to deliver. However, Aemond noticed a fuse sizzling its way up a string from his vantage point, a thin trail of smoke curling into the air. The fuse led to a folded piece of paper, its edges frayed and worn, and a vial filled with a vibrant green liquid shimmering like a melted-down emerald. Seeing it sent a wave of unease through him; he recognized it as a volatile concoction known for its explosive properties. The realization hit him—Aeonar was not merely aiming to wound; he was preparing to unleash chaos. Aeonar had drawn the bowstring back to its fullest extent, ensuring the specialized arrow he crafted would fly at maximum velocity upon release.
They planned this! "Aeragon, Vagar! (Move, Vhagar!)"
"Dodge this!" Aeonar shouted.
However, Aeonar quickly redirected his aim at the last moment, now focusing his YiTish bow and arrow on Vhagar herself. Time seemed to slow, each heartbeat echoing in his ears as he steadied his breath, his fingers deftly gripping the bowstring, feeling the familiar texture beneath his calloused fingertips. With a flick of his wrist, he adjusted the angle of his shot, calculating the distance and wind. As he released the bowstring, the arrow sliced through the air as the lit fuse grew closer to the paper, a whisper of fate, as Aeonar watched with bated breath, praying that his aim would be true.
Vhagar, with over 142 years as a combat veteran, had past experiences with archers during Aegon's Conquest, the Faith Militant uprising, the First and Fourth Dornish Wars, and the ongoing Dance of the Dragons. She squinted her piercing yellow eyes as she detected the incoming arrow soaring through the air. The faint whistling sound it made was a warning that her instincts had honed over nearly a century and a half. With a slow yet practiced motion, she turned her massive head, her long neck arching gracefully, and lifted her right wing with a hard thrust to intercept the projectile. The arrow, designed to pierce the toughest of armors, failed to hit its intended mark. Still, the sheer force of its trajectory caused the very tip of the arrow to embed itself in the thinnest section of her membrane, a fragile area usually protected by layers of toughened skin. Vhagar felt a tiny sting, a sensation that was both foreign and unwelcome, as the arrowhead punctured her wing. Before she could fully process it, the fuse attached to the arrow ignited upon contact with the vial and paper wrapped around it, sending a spark racing along its length. In an instant, the fuse flared to life, and a sudden explosion erupted, the force of it reverberating through the air.
"*RRAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!*" Vhagar roared. The blast sent shockwaves through her body, rattling her bones and causing her to stagger. Flames erupted from the explosion, licking at her wing. The arrow's detonation tore open a gaping hole in Vhagar's wing, and the wildfire surged through the breach aided by the scattered YiTish black powder, igniting the delicate membranes; the green flames licked at her skin, a tormenting reminder of the danger she faced, yet it also fueled her rage. Vhagar's eyes blazed, the pain of her injury igniting a primal instinct to fight back. With a guttural growl, she prepared to retaliate.
"Tsk!" Aeonar let out a low, menacing growl as he watched the arrow's path be intercepted. He hoped it would find its mark in one of Vhagar's eyes, but the Queen of All Dragons was too experienced in battle. Even as the first blow was thwarted, Vhagar showed no signs of going down without a fight. His eyes turned to Vaelor, knowing it was now up to him to end the battle before Vhagar could respond. "Angōs, Valor! (Attack, Vaelor!)" he commanded.
"*RRAAAAAAOOOOOHH!*" Vaelor roared as he and Vhagar charged at each other, powerful jaw open wide.
The two dragons clashed violently with a fierce headbutt, their massive skulls colliding with a resounding thud that echoed across the battlefield. Each beast exerted its might, their powerful muscles rippling beneath their scales, while their claws dug deep into the ground, anchoring them in a primal struggle for dominance and killing the other. Dust and debris erupted around them, swirling as they grappled for supremacy. As they broke apart, Vhagar landed the first attack, her powerful jaws snapping shut around Vaelor's neck. The sensation of her teeth sinking into his flesh was immediate, a crushing grip that sent waves of pain coursing through the Swiftrunner. With her teeth and jaws applying pressure designed to crush, his smoking blood began to seep from Vhagar's bite. Vaelor tried to shake her off and jerked his head upward to collide with Vhagar's throat, the impact reverberating through both dragons and forcing Vhagar to let go. Enraged, he lunged forward and bit down on Vhagar's neck, his sharp, serrated teeth designed for tearing and rending flesh. He began to shake his head violently, seeking to inflict as much damage as possible before shoving her to the ground.
Vhagar pushed herself upright and forcefully kicked Vaelor away with a forceful shove of her hind leg. The impact sent both dragons hurtling back to square one, their tails inadvertently sweeping through the underbrush and knocking down small trees in the process. The forest echoed with the sound of snapping wood, a testament to the ferocity of their clash. Vaelor let out an aggressive roar that reverberated through the air; his eyes locked onto Vhagar with a burning intensity. In response, Vhagar unleashed a powerful bellow of her own. Without hesitation, they charged at each other again, their massive bodies colliding with a thunderous impact as they struck with another fierce headbutt.
As they clashed, Vaelor and Vhagar bit and snapped at each other's flanks, their teeth clashing against scales. Vaelor charged into Vhagar with all his might and pushed her forward. The force of the impact was staggering, but Vhagar, ever the seasoned veteran, quickly regained her footing. With a deft maneuver, she outmaneuvered Vaelor, her jaws sinking deep into his neck. She gripped him tightly, her teeth piercing through his scales, before using her strength to throw him to the ground. Vaelor emitted a low draconic growl, a guttural mix of grunt and groan, as he felt the sting of her bite. Just as he was about to gather himself, he caught sight of his mother rushing toward him. In a split second, he narrowly sidestepped her attack, but fate was not on his side; she grabbed him by the tail with her jaws and dragged him backward. Seizing the opportunity, Vhagar lunged forward, aiming to bite him again to seize him in her grasp, but Vaelor was quick on his feet. He evaded her jaws and, in a swift retaliation, clamped down on Vhagar's snout, his teeth digging into her tough hide. The elder dragon let out a snarl of pain and fury, the sound echoing through the trees as she yanked it out and shoved him aside. However, Vaelor quickly countered and swung his tail with momentum in a wide arc, carrying it like a battering ram, striking Vhagar's flank with a resounding thud and sending her stumbling sideways, momentarily disrupting her balance. Still, she was quick to regain her footing.
"*RRAAAAAAOOOOOHH!*"
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!*"
Aeonar was acutely aware that this fight wasn't going to be easy. Fighting Vhagar alone posed a significant challenge, not only due to the sheer size and power of Aemond's dragon but also because of the strategic implications of their surroundings. If both dragons stayed grounded, a drawn-out confrontation could spell trouble for Vaelor. He needed to maneuver his dragon toward a setting that would provide them with a clear advantage: the vast expanse of the open skies, where Vaelor would be faster and more maneuverable than Vhagar, living up to his name as 'the Swiftrunner.' But to do that, Aeonar had to devise a way for Aemond to drive Vhagar into the chase. It was a challenge that required not only strategic foresight but also an understanding of Aemond's motivations and instincts as a rider. Aeonar knew that if he could provoke Aemond just enough, he might be able to lure Vhagar into the skies, where the battle could begin on their terms. "Is that the best you can do, Aemond?!" he yelled loudly, mocking his younger half-brother. "You failed at King's Landing, you failed at Rook's Rest, you failed at Harrenhal, you let your family get captured! You. Just. Keep. Failing! How does it feel to be seen as weak, boy?! What hope do you have against me?!"
Aemond snarled. I'll show you who's weak! "Dracarys!" he commanded.
Vhagar inhaled deeply, her chest swelling with a surge of power, as she slowly unfurled her immense jaws. Then, with a sudden eruption of energy, searing flames started to billow forth from her gaping maw.
That's it, girl. Hit me with all you have. "Dracarys!" Aeonar commanded.
Vaelor opened his jaws wide to take a deep breath. A fierce glow emanated from his throat, signaling the intense heat accumulating within him, a prelude to the inferno that was about to be unleashed. The fire brewed in his belly, a storm of energy swirling and churning, casting a mesmerizing display of black hues intertwined with vibrant swirls of red that flickered from his mouth like the dance of a thousand embers.
In a remarkable instance of synchronicity, Vhagar and Vaelor arched their heads back before jerking forward with a ferocity that sent tremors through the ground beneath them. With a roar that echoed across the landscape, they released a fierce torrent of flames directed at one another, the flames twisting and curling in the air like serpents seeking to trap their prey. The two streams of fire met in a dramatic clash, a brilliant explosion of light and heat that illuminated the night sky. The air crackled with energy as the dragonfire intertwined, each flame seeking to overpower the other, creating a swirling vortex of heat and light that danced dangerously close to the ground. As the flames roared and twisted, it felt like time had paused, the world around them fading into insignificance as they became locked in this fiery duel. This overpowering display caused the two dragons's pulses to meet and create an explosion like Rook's Rest but on a larger scale. The force of the blast sent shockwaves rippling through the surrounding landscape, uprooting trees and scattering debris in all directions.
The resulting shockwave was a force of nature, propelling Vhagar backward with such ferocity that she was momentarily lifted off her feet. The ground beneath her trembled as she fought to regain her balance, instinctively digging her claws into the earth to anchor herself, her powerful muscles straining against the shock of the impact, the sharp talons tearing into the soil as she fought to regain her balance.
Aemond groaned, his grip tightening on the handlebars of his saddle as he struggled to maintain his balance. Vhagar rhythmically beat her wings to slow herself down, each stroke sending a rush of wind that threatened to unseat him. Once his dragon found her footing near the lake's edge, Aemond steadied himself, scanning the surrounding areas for any sign of Aeonar and Vaelor. The explosion had been enormous, a violent blast that had sent shockwaves through the air and created a towering mushroom cloud that hung ominously above, casting a shroud of ash, soot, and smoke across the landscape. The intense heat radiated for miles, distorting the air and creating an oppressive atmosphere that made breathing difficult. Aemond's heart raced as his vision was obscured, rendering everything a murky silhouette. He could feel the tension in Vhagar's muscles, her instincts sharp and alert, as she, too, sensed that the threat was not over yet. With a low growl, Vhagar sniffed the air, her nostrils flaring as she searched for Vaelor's scent. Vhagar may have laid his egg during the Century of Blood, yet even now, the Queen of All Dragons would undoubtedly recognize her rebellious brood.
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOHH!*"
Beyond the mushroom cloud, the outline of dragon wings thrashed against it, casting ominous shadows that danced across the scorched earth below. Vaelor let out a thunderous roar that reverberated through the air, directed squarely at Vhagar. Aeonar, perched atop his dragon, cast a sinister glance at Aemond, who stood transfixed, his gaze locked on the spectacle unfolding above. A wicked grin curled at the corners of his lips. To Aemond, Vaelor looked like a goddamn demon unleashed from the fiery depths of hell itself. The dragon's crimson eyes glowed with an otherworldly fire, and his massive wings beat with a force that stirred the air, sending gusts of wind that whipped through Aemond's hair. For Vhagar, the sight of Vaelor was more than just a display of strength; it reminded her of her past when she was younger and smaller, flying and fighting alongside Meraxes and Balerion during the Conquest.
"Are you scared yet? You'll have to do better than that if you want to kill me, boy!" Aeonar sneered, a wicked grin curling at the corners of his mouth as he patted his dragon three times. With a commanding gesture, he signaled for the Swiftrunner to make his move. Beating his wings, Vaelor took flight. The ground fell away beneath them as they ascended into the air, the wind rushing past in a cacophony that filled Aeonar's ears. With remarkable speed, they climbed higher, piercing through the layers of the atmosphere, the world below shrinking into a patchwork of greens and browns. The clouds loomed ahead, thick and heavy, swirling like a storm waiting to be unleashed. As they broke through the last barrier of mist, both dragon and rider disappeared into the thick shroud of clouds above, enveloped in a world of white and gray.
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOHH!*"
"Mwahahahaha!"
Aemond gritted his teeth. "Grrr!" I've had enough of you mocking and belittling me! I will not be made a fool out of! This insult will not stand! "Sōvēs, Vagar! (Fly, Vhagar!)" he commanded.
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!*" Vhagar, being older and slightly larger, also soared into the air to chase after Vaelor. However, due to her advanced age and size, she was slower and ascended more slowly, circling outwards in wider loops that carried her and her rider over the waters of the Gods Eye.
Round One on the ground ended in a stalemate.
Things would continue in Round Two…
…above the Gods Eye.
Chapter End
Author's Note: Round One begins between Vaelor and Vhagar. Both are giving it everything they have to prove only one deserves the status as alpha. As we prepare for Round Two to begin in the air, what are your predictions as to what'll happen next? Find out next time.
rj7677304: Idk why but why do i feel like it would add so much to the story if Aeonar died in this battle in a blaze of glory along with Aemond but i feel like Daemon might intercept and die instead but i just have wait
Dante 101: The problem with Aenoar for me is that while he does have his share of flaws & weaknesses is that just about everything he does he manages to gain something in one way or another. And that makes it difficult to root for him. Especially now that he's descending deeper & deeper into lunacy.
Are you supposed to feel torn about his character at all?
―If we're looking at it from the Greek philosopher Aristotle, he's a tragic hero - one who held promise but fails in the long run
What is Aenoar's greatest weakness? His fatal flaw?
―His inability to forgive and let go of past grudges; he only ends up hurting himself and does more harm that good by pushing others away or treating those around him with suspicion and resentment.
If, no when Aenoar wins, what will he do next? Will he turn his sights towards his own immediate family?
―That'll be revealed in a few chapters
TruthOnlyReader: A good week this week!
randomdude24: I really enjoyed part 2! Vaelor and Vhagar are equal to each other, while Vhagar has more experience Vaelor is younger and faster which could be an advantage. Aeonar is starting to really get under Aemond skin mocking and making him feel weak. That is starting to do a number on him, the one thing Aemond hates is being weak.
Questions,
Could you provide a damage status on both dragons?
―Vaelor and Vhagar have sustained bite injuries and scratch marks including blunt force trauma; Vhagar's teeth are more blunt and designed to crush whereas Vaelor's teeth are sharper and designed to slice, but because Vhagar is older, her hide is slightly harder than Vaelor's. However, that being said though, Vaelor is more younger, faster, and more aggressive with plenty of stamina to hopefully match Vhagar's power and experience.
How far is Daemon from the battle?
Cregan Stark has arrived south, you mentioned he's near the Twins. How far is Cregan from Kings Landing and how many men?
―He'll be leading around 8,000 men and is still pretty far from King's Landing if he's approaching the Twins.
If Aemond dies, what Larys continue to gain hiding Aegon? Is it just to spite Aeonar?
―A symbolic middle finger