@musesforthedamned closed starter for Daemon
She had heard whispers in taverns and rumors carried by sailors about the devastation spreading across the Stepstonesâships raided, captives tortured, and innocent people terrorized by the Crabfeederâs forces. When word reached her that Daemon Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon were leading a campaign against them, Kassandra knew she could no longer remain apart from the conflict. She cared little for their ambitions or the glory they hoped to win; it was the suffering of the vulnerable that drew her to the islands. With Ikaros beneath her, she set her course for the Stepstones, determined to break the Crabfeederâs hold and bring an end to the fear consuming the region.
Ikaros let out a low rumble from deep within his chest, the sound rolling through the stone beneath Kassandraâs feet. His warm breath swept across her cheek, carrying the scent of smoke and ash, and she rested a hand against the bronze scales of his snout.
She already knew what had to be done.
The Crown had offered Daemon and Corlys neither soldiers nor ships, leaving them to wage a brutal war with dwindling strength and fading supplies. Without aid, the campaign could drag on for yearsâor end in disaster. However proud they were, both men needed help, and not merely enough to survive. They needed something powerful enough to turn the tide of the battle entirely.
Kassandra looked toward the distant sea, where dark clouds gathered over the Stepstones.
âThen we go,â she murmured.
Ikaros answered with another rumble, lower and fiercer than the first.
They would not fly for crowns, titles, or glory. They would fly for the captives still trapped in the caves, for the sailors hunted across the narrow waters, and for every innocent soul forced to live beneath the Crabfeederâs terror. By nightfall, the soldiers of the Stepstones would look to the sky and see bronze wings cutting through the stormâand they would know the war had changed.
Kassandra raised one hand and rested it against the curve of Ikarosâs neck. His scales were warm beneath her palm, holding the heat of the sun itself. Flecks of gold gleamed between plates of burnished bronze, while the dark crimson along his throat brightened with every slow breath he drew.
He lowered his great head toward her, golden eyes narrowing with an intelligence no ordinary beast could possess. A deep vibration rolled through his chest, as though he already understood the decision she had made.
âIt seems we are needed in battle, Ikaros,â Kassandra murmured.
She moved along his side, her fingers trailing over the familiar ridges of his scales before catching hold of the saddle straps. With practiced ease, she climbed onto his back and settled between the bronze spines at the base of his neck. Far beyond the cliffs, the sea stretched toward the Stepstones, dark and restless beneath gathering clouds.
Kassandra tightened her grip on the reins and leaned close.
âDohaerÄs, Ikaros⊠sĆvÄs!â Serve, Ikaros⊠fly!
Ikaros answered with a roar like rolling thunder.
His enormous wings unfurled, blotting out the sun for a heartbeat before sweeping downward with enough force to scatter dust and loose stone across the cliffside. In a single powerful motion, he launched himself into the air. The earth fell away beneath them as he climbed, bronze and gold scales flashing in the light and crimson veins glowing like embers beneath his wings.
Kassandra looked toward the southern horizon.
Somewhere beyond it, Daemon and Corlys were fighting a war the Crown had chosen to ignore. Their soldiers were exhausted, their ships diminished, and the Crabfeeder still held the islands in terror.
Ikaros turned toward the Stepstones and surged forward, cutting through the clouds with silent, predatory grace. By the time the enemy saw the shadow of his wings passing over the sea, it would already be too late.
The tide of the war was about to change.
Smoke choked the air the moment Kassandra and Ikaros reached the Stepstones. The clouds above the islands were no longer white, but stained a deep, oppressive gray by ash and dragonfire. Below, the sea churned around shattered ships, burning wreckage, and bodies caught between the rocks. The stench of smoke, salt, and scorched flesh struck her hard enough to make her jaw tighten.
Corlys Velaryonâs fleet was still fighting, but only barely. His ships were scattered across the narrow channels between the islands, their formations broken and their numbers stretched dangerously thin. On the shore, men loyal to Corlys and Daemon were falling back toward a rocky ridge, trying to regroup before the Crabfeederâs forces could overwhelm them.
Then Kassandra saw the archers.
They emerged along the cliffs in rows, drawing their bows as the retreating soldiers crossed the exposed beach below. One volley would turn the withdrawal into a slaughter.
Kassandra leaned low against Ikarosâs neck.
âAderÄ«, Ikaros! Drakarys!â Quickly, Ikaros! Dragonfire!
Ikaros folded his wings and plunged from the clouds.
The wind screamed around them as the bronze dragon dropped toward the shoreline with terrifying speed. Gold and crimson flickered beneath his scales as heat gathered deep within his chest. At the last possible moment, he spread his wings and swept over the cliffs, close enough that the force of his passage hurled men from their feet.
A torrent of brilliant gold and deep red flame tore across the archersâ position, engulfing bows, barricades, and siege lines in a wall of fire. The Crabfeederâs soldiers scattered in panic, their attack broken before a single arrow could reach the retreating men below.
Ikaros banked sharply through the smoke, turning his body between the enemy and Corlysâs exhausted soldiers. For a few precious moments, his vast wings shielded the beach while Kassandra watched the last of the wounded reach cover.
Only then did she give the signal to climb.
Ikaros surged upward, carrying them beyond the reach of the remaining archers before circling back over the battlefield. Below, men on both sides stared toward the sky, stunned by the arrival of the unknown bronze dragon.
The retreat had become an escape.
And the battle had just gained a new dragonrider.
Caraxes answered Ikarosâs arrival with a sharp, piercing screech that echoed across the encampment. The Blood Wyrm lifted his long neck, restless and alert, crimson wings shifting against the smoky sky. The sound did not carry the threat Kassandra had expected. It felt almost like recognitionâa dragon greeting another whose presence could not be ignored.
Ikaros replied with a low, resonant rumble.
He descended onto a stretch of blackened earth near the Velaryon camp, his massive wings beating once before folding tightly against his sides. The impact sent ash and loose stones skittering across the ground. Soldiers nearby froze, staring at the ancient bronze dragon whose scales gleamed with gold beneath the soot and whose crimson markings pulsed faintly with every breath.
Kassandra dismounted with practiced ease, sliding down from the saddle and landing lightly beside him. She pressed a hand to his neck before stepping away.
âUmbÄs.." Stay she murmured.
Ikaros shook himself from head to tail, bronze scales shifting with a sound like metal drawn across stone. He settled near the edge of the camp, choosing a position from which he could see both Kassandra and Caraxes. His golden eyes remained fixed on her, watchful and unblinking.
The soldiers parted as she approached.
Some lowered their weapons. Others tightened their grip on them.
Kassandra paid neither reaction much attention.
She walked toward the war table beneath the command tent, where maps of the Stepstones had been pinned beneath knives, cups, and bloodstained stones. Corlys Velaryon stood over the charts with several commanders, while Daemon remained nearby, still marked by battle and smoke.
Kassandra stopped across from him.
âDÄemon DÄrilaros.â Prince Daemon she said, glancing over the war table before meeting his eyes. "DÄro Vilinio hen olvie tolmiot ilÄ." You are quite far from Kingâs Landing.
Her gaze shifted toward the battered fleet marked across the map.
"Se aĆho valoti vÄzos laodÄ«s, qrÄ«drughagon hen tolmiot gĆntan daor."
And judging by the state of your men, not nearly far enough from defeat.
For a moment, only the distant crackle of burning ships could be heard. Then Kassandra rested both hands on the edge of the table.
âThe Crown may have abandoned this war,â she continued, âbut I have not.â
