Ch 79 "Tensions and Rage"

Drogon's POV

That weird two-legged wolf just treated me like a brat. I was giving him respect and even challenged him for the position of dominant beast, but he just shrugged me off, treating me like a child. At least he was worthy—he survived my challenge. My brothers always see me as their leader and never challenge me, but now a worthy beast has come, and he doesn't even acknowledge me. Even though he's a wolf—strange though, disguised as a human—he is still a wolf. He even walks and talks like a human too. Eh, whatever. He's a beast, and I'll challenge him again once I grow up and he's still around. Until then, I suppose I can share the position of leader with that wolf.

Rhaegal's POV

My brother is always dumb and angry, challenging that weird wolf without even recognizing that they are different kinds of predators. Well, we can blame the lack of competition for that. That wolf is strange—I mean, there are humans with beast blood, like our mother, but she is still human. He's a pure wolf but behaves like a human. I don't understand. Bah, whatever. He smells of a dragon-human—like our mother—but very faintly, as if he lived with a human Dragon. That human Dragon smell is even more different than our mother, maybe a male dragon. Well, at least he's fun, unlike our brother Drogon, who's always irritated and behaves like a hatchling.

---

Cregan: "Can we get to the main topic now?"

Everyone remembered why they were here in the first place.

Daenerys, trying to steady her breathing and regain composure: "Very well."

Cregan stated bluntly, "Daario Naharis tried to kill me and my company. I want him dead, and he is in your service. You are protecting my enemies."

"He swore his sword to me and now marches under my banners. What kind of queen would I be if I backed down from protecting my bannermen?" Daenerys replied confidently, her words full of authority.

Cregan was unmoved. "The kind that protects those who attack people who come to parley and seek peace? That's an ancient tradition, and everywhere it is frowned upon to break it," he said, cleverly attacking Daenerys' sense of justice and honor.

Daenerys was momentarily out of words, but Ser Jorah spoke up. "Daario was a sellsword—that's common enough in that life. It's not the first time a sellsword has broken his word."

"He's a sellsword, yes, but Essosi people don't take their service into courts like your Queen has," Cregan said, smiling as he toyed with the traitor. "Now it's a threat to us, since he has your support—and the Unsullied's. I don't take threats very well."

Ser Jorah, now slightly at a loss for words, taunted, "So you're afraid like a little child?"

Cregan's expression turned cold as he stood. "If I were afraid, I wouldn't be standing here. I don't run like some traitors."

The tension was thick; everyone was ready to act, waiting for a signal.

Daenerys, asserting her authority, said firmly, "Enough. I will not tolerate insults aimed at my men. You came to parley, not us. You will show proper manners."

Cregan eyed her thoughtfully, hands close to his weapons. The dragons were alert, ready to protect their mother. No matter how much they liked or respected him, they would always choose Daenerys.

Edwyle, who had been silent all this time, spoke to defuse the tension. "Your men started it, Your Grace. We come here in goodwill. We sent you a letter, announcing our arrival instead of attacking by surprise."

"Do you really think you'd succeed attacking the Unsullied or the Dothraki?" Daenerys asked snarkily.

Edwyle just chuckled. "Do you know anything about Essosi politics or history? Our group—the Company of the Rose?" He gestured toward Cregan. "He's called the 'Wolf of the Ruins' here in Essos for a reason. If we declared any intention to attack, every city in Essos would be lining up with money, power, titles, and men. Not to mention the King in Westeros. Targaryens are pretty hated, and your dragons are dangerous—but they are not invincible, especially while they are still just wyrms."

Daenerys, irritated by Edwyle's tone, scolded, "Didn't you teach your men manners, Stark?"

Cregan flared with rage. "He is my cousin and commander of the Company, but he speaks the truth. You know nothing. The Company of the Rose was started by Brandon Snow when he left the North, refusing the Dragon's rule and the Starks' bending the knee. Essos sees you as a threat and wants you removed as soon as possible."

Cregan suddenly drew his sword, and everyone followed suit, weapons ready. The fight was imminent—but it didn't come.

Instead, Cregan stabbed his sword into the ground and said, "I don't want to kill a pup, no matter how dangerous its potential is. A child—beast or human—should not be harmed. I offer you a choice: a duel to the death with Daario Naharis. No armor, only a main weapon, a shield, and a dagger. Or it will be war—you versus Essos—where you will be crushed, no matter if it's the Unsullied or the Dothraki who protect you. For this duel, I promise to stay out of your Essos business until you threaten my trade routes, my company, or people. This is the last mercy I offer. In the North, we don't kill children or pups."

Edwyle thought to himself, It's a good deal for both sides. Although we could win with help from other cities, we would lose too many men and time we don't have right now.

Ser Jorah whispered in Daenerys' ear, "It's a good deal, my Queen."

Daenerys looked at Daario Naharis. He smiled and nodded confidently. Though nervous before—after seeing the fight between Cregan and Mero—with these conditions in his favor, he felt ready to win.

Daenerys then spoke: "Very well. The fight will be tomorrow."

Cregan nodded and left with his party.

Later, in the keep of Meereen:

Daenerys was furious at the lack of respect and fear shown by her opponents. They weren't even the slightest bit afraid, acting as though they were granting her mercy.

"Daario, do your best to humiliate that wolf. If the situation allows, do your best to save his life. I want to see him kneeling, defeated and taken into my service," the Queen said, her anger evident.

"Of course, my Queen. He was quite foolish to give me such an advantage," Daario said with a grin.

---

Rumors in the Cregan Camp

The Tale Spreads

By the pale firelight and the clink of mugs, whispers ran wild through the tents of Cregan's Company. The story grew with each retelling—how their leader, the Wolf of the Ruins, had faced not one, but two dragons, and treated them with the same fearless indifference he showed mortal foes.

Some men claimed they saw him slap the snout of the biggest red beast, scolding it as if it were a mere unruly hound.

Others swore he stood, unflinching, in the dragons' shadow, staring the winged monsters down until they averted their gaze like chastened pups.

Tales bloomed that he'd spoken to them in their own tongue, and the dragons—beasts that had cowed armies—had yielded to his will without so much as a growl.

In the cold northern nights, Cregan's deeds grew larger. He was no longer just a man to his followers—he was fast becoming a legend.

"He's part wolf, part man, and now part dragon," joked some, with reverence rather than jest.

Veterans muttered that even the old kings of Winter never strode so boldly before such titans.

New recruits looked at Cregan with awe, whispering that their leader must have a touch of the Old Gods in him, or perhaps the dragons recognized a kinship in the depths of his eyes.

The rumors, half myth and half memory, took root in every campfire conversation:

Cregan, it was said, treated dragons no differently than soldiers or lords—commanding respect, never bowing to fear.

They spoke of the dragons as wild stallions brought to heel only by the man with the iron will of the North.

Soon, even hardened mercenaries and war-weary knights found themselves believing their leader was fated for more than battlefields and blood—the Wolf who could cow a dragon was surely bound for the songs of future generations, a tale to outlast both fire and ice.

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