[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mcAqwn2.jpg[/img][/center]

[right][sub][b]Prince Maegor Targaryen // [@Ezekiel][/b][/sub][/right]

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Pale burning light had begun to creep over the horizon as Maegor rode out from the city. He did so, not upon the vast back of Balerion, but upon one of the steeds of his household, pacing out from Pentosh at great haste. The climate of Pentosh was hotter than Westeros, but still temperate, and the night beat at him with cold chill, steam rising from the heaving flanks of the horse beneath him.

It was a well trained beast, of Valyrian stock, or at least bread close enough to it, but even still, it whinied fitfully at the sudden stench of dragon as they crested the hill. It was not a foul smell, but it was pervasive with creatures as vast as they were, and it almost panicked even the well trained steed.

“Onward.” Maegor commanded, without doubt or pause, striking his stirrups into the horse’s flanks to spur it on. With only another moment’s doubt, it followed through, trotting down the hill towards the form of Terrax. From distance, the dragon’s rider wasn’t visible, but soon, even in the low light, Maegor had clear view of Vhandyr.

“Hail,” Maegor called out as he drew nearer, pulling the horse to a stop before swinging down from the saddle to approach him, giving a respectful nod to the towering dragon in greeting. “I have cleared you entry to the city, but we shall not be lingering long.” There was a pause as he stopped to draw the other Valyrian man into a brace of arms. “My brother and nephew have passed beyond, I will return to Westeros to ensure all my father has built does not crumble.”

Vhandyr Balaerys slid off the scaled hide of Terrax with the casual ease of a master horsemen dropping from the saddle, the sound of chain and leather boots hitting grass and dirt, his silvered long hair flipped behind him after the landing. The look of irritation only came when the large beast he slid off of ‘nudged’ him, nearly toppling the large, muscled, Valyrian man. Vhandyr found himself peering back, confusion and hurt on his face.
“I won’t make you go.”

The dragon snorted, and turned his head the opposite direction, away from Pentos.

Vhandyr’s eyes widened, a momentary disbelief, “Don’t give me that atti—” The side of the best again nudged his direction, though Vhandyr was quick enough to step away, this time, and shake his head as Maegor approached. “He’s mad he can’t fly to Westeros now.”

The man sighed, and shook his head, taking the skin of wine from his belt and pausing to brace Maegor’s arm. His lips looked as if they might frown, but instead, he just sighed again, lower this time, and handed the wine skin to Maegor. “I am sorry for your loss. Losing kin is hard, no matter the politics at play. Were you close to either of them?”

Maegor's eyes followed the dragon's, nodding in slight affirmation. Their motivation may have been different, but the drive was there. Onwards to the West. Terrax and Balerion were very different creatures, but the bond between dragons of such scale and rider were alike. No one could truly master beasts such as they, it was always a negotiation, a bond.

"My nephew I barely knew, my brother…Maybe there were times we cared for each other. He tried to be kind to me, as if that would change they never raised us to be brothers." There was an ache to those words, as if perhaps the man wished he felt more, but then he shook it away. "For all the warmth I did not have for him, I shall have plenty and more in store for his murderers." There was no growl to his words, just a steely promise of what was to come. "It is a time of great providence, that you will witness, should you still fly with us."

Vhandyr nodded, silently, as he watched the wine go ignored, only for him to take a long drink of it himself  as he moved around the man near his size and come to a lazy flop onto the grassy hill overlooking the costal plain that led to Pentos, a haze of wall and city off into the distance, under the veil of rapidly approaching twilight.

“If someone killed Vaera…if someone COULD kill Vaera…aye,” he trailed off, nodding as he took another thirsty drink, “Immolation if I had to, though, I think I’d prefer just…pushing my hand through the flesh and bone of their chest, to rip the heart out directly.” He said it as his free hand curled into a claw and ‘jabbed’ forward, a dramatic example of such a thing to the air in place of an imagined murderer.

Then, his hand relaxed, and he took another drink, his deep purple eyes on the horizon where sunlight met starlight. “If they were to murder the younger ones, the children?...there would be no running. No hiding. No mercy. I would be the manifestation of the ancient Valyrian gods of destruction, and death would follow behind me.”

He shrugged. “If I didn’t go, Terrax would never forgive me.” He turned back, smiling back over his shoulder to the Targaryen, “and if I didn’t go, who would be there to force you to stop and have a drink?” He said, holding out the skin of wine to the man, again.

The man's words brought something close to a true laugh from the exiled Prince, an amused murmur of sorts and the ghost of a smile glinting in the low light. It was a surprisingly handsome expression, as rare as it was, etching, as if out of stone, some warmth that was not rage and ambition. "I have drank and feasted plenty in my time, even before I knew you." This time he accepted the wine skin, taking a few long, thirsty gulps, then offering it back and sitting down beside the other Valyrian.

"Perhaps if there had been more of us." Maegor mused, some of the gravel in his voice had eased, little shreds of the tension leeching away. Whether it was the company or the drink, or both, it was perhaps unclear. "I think only our father managed to approve of us both, everyone else has ever been for one of us or the other. It is his memory that calls me to act." There was another low rumble of a near laugh, before Maegor added, "There will no doubt be death and destruction to share in the future, but I will understand if you and Terrax are jumping off mountains and the like. Have a care though, the traitors who wish harm to my family will see you no different from us."

Vhandyr took the wine back with an absence in his eyes, listening, still, but his mind set on another truth. “We Valyrians…the Freehold…it shouldn’t have existed. Our destruction was always imminent. We became nature apart from nature, a violation of natural order. The Doom didn’t happen because of magic gone awry, or conspiracies of Faceless Men…it happened the moment we put ourselves above creation. The tragedy was made by the fathers of our fathers fathers fathers father’s…the parents of our parents were just the ones dancing on the strings when the fire finally ignited. We try to grasp onto what tatters remain. The others will always hate us for trying not to fall off, cheering the fires on and on until us, them…we’re all consumed in it.”

Without looking, Vhandyr reached into the small pouch upon his belt and retrieved it, the message that had come to him just earlier in the day, handing it over to the other man. “My sister, Vaera, warns me of dagger looks from holy men in your King’s Landing. Says the city is full of them. Says she believes they all have murder on their minds. Tells me to be careful in King’s Landing. In Westeros. What you say…yes, I should have care.”
Now he looked over, to the side, to Maegor’s face. All humor gone from his dark purple eyes. “We are no different than you. We are both just the descendants of fools, trying to hold on…I will be there to ensure you do not fall.” Then, a chuckle caught him unawares. “If I wasn’t, Terrax would never forgive me. And he deserves some joy, after all the loss and pain he has seen.”

Maegor's enjoyment of their time together wavered for a moment. He was unused to a peer close to him in ability and the scope of what they could do, and the man insisting on providing aid was something of a threat to his own position. It took a few moments of quiet reflection to ease that concern. For all they might be peers, Vhandyr was not him, and the same in reverse. Their callings were elsewhere.

"I don't much care for the histories, if what you say is true, then so be it, Valyria is lost to us, but it's fires did not claim us. There is freedom in that, this world is ours to claim." Maegor's eyes settled again on Terrax, studying the vast creature as its master spoke, "It is a rare Dragon that thinks much of pain and loss, but should the fates be kind there will not be need of more." With another grim near laugh, Maegor continued, "We should not linger long, there is room enough for Terrax at the Manse before we leave from there, and you may want the chance to rest before we fly on." He did not add that there would be no rest for him this evening, with the weight of what was to come pressing on him, but that need not inflict the other.

Vhandyr squeezed at the a large drink from the skin of wine, and set it down on his lap, “Terrax is no fan of the cheese mongers, and I think I would prefer the open sky tonight. I will follow behind after you depart for your home.” Vhandyr settled his upper half onto the grass behind him, his head warmer than it was before the last squeeze of the strong wine, “Thoughts for the victories to come, Maegor Targaryen. They will be upon you soon.”

Even laying flat, Vhandyr rose the wine skin high in the air, a toast to the man, to his future. It wasn’t until Maegor was well enough away that the endless sweep of starlight above obscured with the massive head. To Terrax, Vhandyr felt himself smile after a last drink for the evening, “I told you I wouldn’t make you go into the city. You’re welcome. Goodnight, Terrax. We will fly soon, old friend.”[/color]