[center][img]https://www.superherohype.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/4/2020/12/HouseOfTheDragon.jpg[/img][/center]

[right][h3][b]Westeros Skies[/b][/h3]
On the way to the Westerlands[/right]

[right][sub]Collab with [@Almalthia],  [@Apoalo] & [@Vanq][/sub][/right]
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The familiar thrill of being on dragonback rushed through Melyssanthi and she turned Fyresong to the West. She smiled without warmth thinking about those who had brought out the fire in her blood. Ageon and her father’s killers; one in the same for Aneys had collapsed after hearing that some rabble had attacked and killed his son. Her father must be rolling in his grave since her brother, her uncle, had usurped the throne from Viserys. The thought came to her as she realized it could work.[color=#9400D3][i] Rhaena. Rhaena would need to be Queen. She’d need to be married to a large house to back her claim. Too many people would use Viserys and mother doesn't have the constitution to not be pushed around in a Regency. Visenya is not to be trusted. She helped Maegor. No one that assisted that travesty is loyal. Rhaena has to be Queen.[/i][/color] 

The rage in her boiled and she had to catch her breath as she felt Fyresong growl. The chill pulled her from her thoughts. They needed to land and soon so that they could change clothes. The char on Castor did not escape her notice. Nor did it pass her by that the armor he had was hanging on by a thread and no longer usable. It could be refashioned and parts replaced but as a whole it was useless at present. With the storm having cleared, Melyssanthi was able to see the stars and guided Fyresong to what she hoped was a straight shot to Casterly Rock. Even knowing that she knew that they would need to stop. There was no way Fyresong could do that distance without stopping at least once but more like three times so that they could sleep. [color=#9400D3]“I’m coming, Rhaena. Hold on just a little longer."[/color]   She whispered but still felt like her sister knew she was coming.

Shivering and vision narrowing Pheynix clung to the dragon trying to draw warmth from the beast. The only part that felt warm was where she had been stabbed. Leaning back into Castor using the last of her will to stay awake Pheynix said. [color=#DA70D6]“Left side. Sorry brother."[/color]  Having said that, she passed out.

As Melyssanthi looked behind her and watched Pheynix pass out in the gray light of predawn. [color=#9400D3]“Damnit."[/color]  There was a noble house not too far from where they were at, as far as she recalled. [color=#9400D3][i] What was the name of that house? Hayford? No. Ho…Hogg? YES!! Hogg! We can set down there.[/i][/color] Guiding Fyresong lower Melyssanthi landed right outside Sow’s Horn, the seat of House Hogg.

[color=#9400D3]“Hello! Will you in the name of your Princess Melyssanthi please inform Ser Hogg that he has guests?"[/color] 

[color=#FF69B4]“I am [i]a[/i] Ser Hogg, Princess."[/color]  A man spoke, hulking even at the knee he had taken. He rose, his trousers covered in dust and dew. He did not look like a knight at the moment, he barely looked more than a smallfolk who found irony in using the term [i]small[/i]. Above the dirty trousers and well worn leather boots, he wore a tunic, the ties across his chest left open, a hard day's work already started evident in the sweat that ringed around the fabric’s neckline. It was still chilly but labor put the chill out of his bones and his mass alone was enough to keep him running hot. 

[color=#FF69B4]“Ser Baekyn, at yours and the crown’s service."[/color]  He approached, an unnatural ease to him no matter that a royal on dragonback had descended on his lands before dawn as he returned from an early check on fencing and flocks. They were landed, but House Hogg still knew their land and the working of it. 

He’d never seen a dragon up close before, just glimpses of them in flight. [color=#FF69B4]“Sow’s Horn is still a short distance away, please, allow me to escort you."[/color]  He offered no apology for the state of himself; taller than half a head of most other men and as broad as two, a princess could be forgiven for second-guessing his status or nature. He was unclear on how exactly one dismounted a dragon, and not fool enough to get too close to such a beast, no matter his curiosity, he extended his hand outward. [color=#FF69B4]“Or if this magnificent beast will allow it, I will assist you and your companions down."[/color]  He noticed now, two additional bodies on top of the creature. His head tilted, in further curiosity, but it was not his place to question who a royal brought to his humble lands. 

Sliding down as Fyresong lowered his head, Melyssanthi was sure she looked a fright. [color=#9400D3]“We appreciate it. This is Castor and Pheynix Rahl from Volantis. They are my guests. We… Pheynix is in need of a healer… I think. Castor, her brother, needs to be looked over as well. Please? If that isn't asking too much?"[/color]  She took in the fact that she seemed small compared to Ser Baekyn. It was a feeling she was unused to and it flustered the Princess. She was a tall woman looking most men in the eye or having to tilt her head down to look them in the eye. This man wasn't just tall though he was broad. She wondered if he plowed his own fields without the aid of cattle and forged his own weapons and armor.

[color=#9400D3]“Castor pass your sister down. You were limping earlier. Can you get down?"[/color]  Melyssanthi added in a wry tone. [color=#9400D3]“Without hurting yourself?"[/color] 

It was absolutely phenomenal. It was almost like Castor had meant to be Targaryen. The thrill of the flight, and feeling of the Dragon's muscles underneath him as it flew, the air buffeting him and sending his charred clothing flying behind him. It felt [i]right[/i]. What didn't feel right was the way his sister suddenly leaned back against him. He had felt her shivering and had simply put it down as the cold from the flight but when she spoke he moved her hand which had been blocking the wound and he made a few choice Valyrian curses which he assumed Melys heard as she began a descent. 

Soon enough they were landing next to a rather large man who introduced himself as Ser Baekyn and while first impressions weren't everything Castor was truly starting to hate the minstrels who really misrepresented the image of a Knight. It was an important lesson, and Castor sighed a bit as the last vestiges of his childhood burned away. But they had bigger issues. As Melys secured them safe conduct Castor was unstrapping Nix and when the Targaryen gave her wry question he just glared at her and slowly helped Nix down to her before sliding down himself, being sure to land and put most of his weight on his good side. It still hurt but he would not show too much weakness.

A healer? The knight watched them dismount, as it were, and shook his head with a wince. [color=#FF69B4]“We don't have a maester, Princess, but I'll have our fastest horse and rider sent to Hayford for theirs, as soon as we're to our keep."[/color]  

He peered around the slip of a girl to the Volantene companions. Whatever had happened to them needed more immediate action than even getting to his keep. At least as far as the woman was concerned, even in the new light of dawn, her paleness and sweat deeply concerned Baekyn. [color=#FF69B4]“I’m no Maester but I've had to set bones and stitch gashes more than once."[/color]  He offered an understanding smile, the creases of middle-age and sun only strengthened the expression’s warmth. [color=#FF69B4]“Would you allow me to check that first, and then we can be on our way?"[/color]  

The knight wiped his hands roughly against his trousers. [color=#FF69B4]“We'll set her down, gently now, on the ground."[/color]  From where she grasped at her side he had no doubt where the wound was and what he needed to do. But, kneeling beside her, he still paused and looked back up to both Princess Melyssanthi and Castor Rahl before turning his steady gaze back to Phoenix. 

[color=#FF69B4]“I'm going to have to look at what you have under there."[/color]  He laid his large hand over both of hers, enveloped them with a light squeeze. [color=#FF69B4]“It will hurt and I'm sorry for that."[/color]  For his size, his voice was surprisingly gentle, soft even, like velvet. If only he'd kept the farmhand boy with him, he could use a second set of hands. 

He released her hands with gentle pressure to indicate that she had not moved yet, and pulled at his own shirt. One smooth movement and he was bare-chested and tearing strips from the light wool tunic. It wasn't clean or even work, but it would have to do until he could get cleaner supplies. [color=#FF69B4]“Anyone bring water or wine on your journey here?"[/color]  He had a small wineskin tied to his trousers but it was nearly empty already and the stream he'd intended to refill it from was too far for their current situation. 

With Castor moving her around Pheynix gritted her teeth against a scream as her brother helped her off the dragon as gently as he could. Her face was pale and sweaty when she was laid out. Her eyes were glazed with pain as she heard the big man tell her he was sorry. Pheynix swallowed and in a voice husky with pain, gritted past teeth she hissed. [color=#DA70D6]“Surely it is not as deep as a well nor wide as a church door that I would meet the Maker yet."[/color]  She attempted a smile that turned into a grimace.

Pain glazed eyes of a golden green watched Ser Baekyn take off his tunic and start ripping it asking for wine or water. [color=#DA70D6]“I may actually scream if you pour that on me. Wine is better inside than out."[/color]  Watching him carefully and intensely as she attempted to clear her mind. [color=#DA70D6]“Where's the Myrish Firewine when you need it? Or perhaps an Arbor Gold? Did I mention that may make me scream?"[/color] 

[color=#9400D3]“She's rambling. That can't be good."[/color]  Melyssanthi looked between the three; Castor, Pheynix and Ser Baekyn. Her expression worried. 

[color=#DA70D6]“I will be fine, you ninny. Just get the man some wine. The faster it gets you pissed the better."[/color]  People around held their breath as the Princess raised an eyebrow and Pheynix ignored her.

[color=#9400D3]“People don't say that to me because-”[/color] The wry slightly irritated Princess stated.

[color=#DA70D6]“You have a dragon, and, because of your status. You're not my princess, just my cousin."[/color]  She smirked and laughed which pulled at the wound causing her to groan softly.

There were times when as a brother you simply had to take a step back and allow others to control the situation. Castor didn't particularly trust anyone from Westeros, the Princess included, but right now in this moment he didn't have the ability to simply find someone else and while his mother had tried to teach him medicine, Castor could visualize clearly skipping every lesson for military history and tactics with the Ghiscari. It was something Castor planned to remedy as best he could but for now he would have to grit his teeth and accept that Nix was out of his hands. 

At the call for Firewine though, Castor grinned and rummaged through his pack that had been hastily packed. Aha, there at the bottom was a bottle of the substance that had planned to be a prank of Nix one evening. He grabbed it, and then presented it, stepping back and trying not to hover or get in the Knight’s way. As he moved the twist would be more obvious, especially to the Knight who would no doubt understand.