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(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 46: A Dragon’s Rage
🕑 Added 2025-08-03 14:00:07 +0000 UTCChapter 46: A Dragon’s Rage
123 AC, Dragonstone
A small idea sparked in Baela’s mind as she ran a hand over Moondancer’s snout. She would make them pay. They would regret taking her sister away from her.
Baela Targaryen found that the way down to the Potters’ Manse was oddly peaceful, despite the raging thoughts in her head. No, there weren’t really any thoughts, just a straight desire to hurt the people who stole her sister from her.
Moondancer seemed unsettled by her mood. Her dragon wasn’t large enough for her to ride, being slightly taller than her. Baela personally thought that her dragon could handle it, but she remembered her father’s warning that it could hurt Moondancer, and she could never risk that.
Still, her faithful companion trotted next to her as they walked on the beach. Baela didn’t even know exactly where the manse was, but she had a general idea, given some of her father’s grumbling about strangers building on their island without any permission.
It wasn’t long until she found it, and she immediately recognised it for what it was. The manse was quite large, seemed to be made from a single place, with most of the structure being merged into the hill behind it. No wonder Princess Rhaenyra had wished to invite them. Learning those kinds of building methods would have been a boon for all of the Seven Kingdoms. It was a shame that the Potters ended up as sister-stealing scum, whom Baela would make pay for what they had done.
Truly, it had to be the height of arrogance to build a manse next to the royal family’s ancestral home. If she had to guess, Baela would say that it was only their secret building methods and the fact that they had a hand in healing the King that stopped them from being burned into cinders.
Well, not anymore.
She stared at the manse one last time, feeling far clearer than she ever had before, and she uttered the familiar words, “Dracarys!”
Moondancer flew into the air to get a clearer view of the manse, and she watched from the beach as her dragon spewed one jet of fire after another at the manse. Moondancer was a small dragon that she would admit to anyone. She grew far slower than most of her cousins’ dragons. People underestimated her, but Moondancer was faster and still a dragon, and aside from a larger dragon, there was very little that could stop her beautiful beast. After all, Harrenhall was still testament that dragon fire could melt stone.
With this act, Baela would make sure that everything went back to normal.
The King and his retinue would go back to King’s Landing, her father would stop being so distracted all the time, and most importantly, Rhaena would be free and would never consider leaving her to spend time with these cursed sorcerers.
Yes, everything would be fine.
She thought it was simple. She thought that fire would be enough. That a single act of violence would burn away the distance that had grown between her and her twin. No one would even know. They could blame it on the Cannibal or some other wild dragon. After all, building something so close to the Dragonmont was the height of foolishness, and even magic couldn’t stand against the might of a dragon.
It was only when the flames died down and the smoke curled harmlessly around stone that didn’t so much as blacken that Baela realised that she might have made a mistake. The manse stood there completely untouched, as if Moondancer’s flames had never touched it. She could feel her dragon’s confusion at the sight, but she did not have the time to react as a voice spoke up behind her, “Well, hello there.”
She almost jumped in fright and turned, having grabbed her dagger, only to freeze as she saw the sorcerer’s familiar face smiling at her indulgently. He was sitting in a very odd chair, which faced the sea behind her and wore an odd hat made of straw of all things, seemingly unconcerned at the fact that Baela tried to burn down his home, while sipping a cup of something, a hot drink from the steam rising on top of it.
Baela found herself speechless at the sight, and the man continued, “You must be Baela. Your sister told me so much about you. Why don’t you come take a seat?”
Her first instinct was to call for Moondancer, and her dragon responded immediately. She flew down from the sky immediately towards the threat, ready to burn it, only for something to happen. She stood defensively behind Baela, her throat lighting up slightly in vain, but there was fear there. Moondancer was afraid of the man who seemed completely at peace, sipping his drink. No, she was terrified out of her mind and the thin unarmed man.
Baela didn’t know what prompted her to say this, or why, only that she hated her dragon being so afraid, “Dracarys!”
However, for the first time, Moondancer disobeyed her. She had never disobeyed Baela in her life. Instead of burning the sorcerer, she released threatening screeches. Was the man going to steal Moondancer like he had her sister?
No, she would not allow it!
She exclaimed again, this time more forcefully, “Dracarys.”
Despite the protest that Baela could feel through their bond, Moondancer opened her maw, fire growing in her throat, only to stop once more, replaced by fear. The man spoke up softly, “That’s quite the impressive bond you two have, for her to take such a risk in her love of you. I suppose growing up together for years, ever since you both were born, cemented a bond that is stronger than most.”
“Dracarys!” Baela yelled.
And finally, her dragon accepted her decision and prepared to open her maw, only for the man to raise an eyebrow and say clearly, “Sleep!”
And just like that, Moondancer’s fire died in her maw, and she fell down behind Baela, unconscious. “What did you do to Moondancer?”
The man didn’t seem concerned with her anger and answered without care, “Nothing much. She’s just asleep. She’ll wake up in a few hours at the most. That said, I am surprised she was even willing to attack me in the first place. A strong bond indeed.”
Baela calmed down slightly as she saw Moondancer obviously breathing. Her dragon did truly look like she was sleeping peacefully, wings tucked in, eyes shut without strain. There was no wound, nor signs of pain. But that didn’t calm Baela, not truly. If anything, it made her angrier.
After all, Baela realised just how helpless she was. She stood alone in front of a sorcerer who was far older than she. She couldn’t leave, not with Moondancer asleep, even if a part of her screamed to run. She would not abandon her dragon, much like Moondancer did not abandon her when facing the sorcerer.
Speaking of the man, he kept staring at her expectantly, glancing at the chair next to him. Baela gulped and walked forward, and sat on the chair. She couldn’t help but ask, “Do you always have chairs in front of your manse?”
The sorcerer blinked before snorting, “Perhaps I do, perhaps I don’t. You can never have enough chairs, you know?”
Baela did her best to suppress the urge to roll her eyes at that response. She had tried a tactic she learned from her father, to never let an enemy feel like they have the upper hand in their situation. Then again, she didn’t think that she ever had any power here, with her dragon slumbering with nothing more than a word from the man sitting next to her.
And so, she decided to breach the subject slightly, “Why did Moondancer not want to attack you?”
For the first time, Harry Potter looked pleased, and he said with an excited tone, “Dragons, like many magical creatures, perceive the world differently. They can discern people’s natures, perhaps even aspects of their personalities that they do not even know or acknowledge. If I had to guess, it would be that they use this skill to choose riders who are compatible with them, before they could even forge a bond that would reveal much of other people’s natures. It’s quite a good skill.”
Baela immediately jumped at the information granted to her. Moondancer had looked at Harry Potter and had been afraid, terrified even. She couldn’t help but wonder what could have possibly made a dragon feel like this, enough to resist attacking him. “What are you?”
“Just a man. A knowledgeable one, perhaps, but knowledge can be far more dangerous than most could ever imagine. Insight can be a terrible gift or burden indeed. One’s nature is more than just what they are, but what they can do, what they would do, and I can do much. Your dragon is a brave one to even gather the will to overwhelm her own instincts. There are very few things that are as powerful or as undoing as love, and Moondancer loves you indeed.”
The man certainly loved speaking in riddles, didn’t he?
Baela would have found it silly or perhaps even charming if she didn’t feel so frustrated by the man’s obvious lack of reaction to what she had done. He spoke of her bond with her dragon, of her bond, but nothing on how she had just tried to burn him alive, “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?” he replied, with that infuriating smile on his face.
“Ask why I tried to burn down your manse?”
“But it didn’t burn down, did it?” the sorcerer said while grinning back.
Baela growled in exasperation, “How did you do that?”
“How do you think I did that?”
The answer was obvious: “Magic. You used magic.”
“Then why are you asking questions that you know the answers to?” the man simply replied, while giving her a disappointed look. “Making sure that the entire thing wouldn’t burn down was the first thing we did after we built this place. It seems a bit silly to stay so close to dragons without at least a way to stop that.”
The young girl had to admit that it made sense. If she could use magic to stop a building from burning down, she would have done it, especially with dragons being nearby. She didn’t like how the man looked so unbothered by her attempt. It niggled at her pride a bit, “So you don’t care that I tried to burn down your manse? You don’t care why I even did that.”
The man hummed and took another sip of his drink, “Oh, I have performed experiments that were far more destructive than what you did. A little fire, even magical ones, wouldn’t bother me or my wife too much. Even now, Daphne is reading a book near the fireplace. She felt too cosy to come with me to meet you. As for why you tried to do it, now that’s a much more interesting question, isn’t it? I suppose that the thought did cross my mind. What could have made a young girl so angry, so enraged, that she would try to kill two people who had barely spoken to her before?”
Baela didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to say. She had imagined anger, imagined screaming, imagined some twisted sense of victory. But now that she sat there, dragonless and powerless, the words just wouldn’t come. The silence stretched between them until it felt like a weight on her chest.
Then she looked at the sorcerer, at that knowing look in his eyes, and all that anger and frustration spilt out all at once, “You took her from me.”
The words weren’t loud, but they felt deafening in the silence surrounding them. Baela didn’t even know she was going to say them until they were already out. “She’s my sister. My twin. We’re supposed to be together, always. Ever since you two came here, it wasn’t the same. She’s been keeping secrets, hiding things. She never did that before. And now she doesn’t want to bring me with her.”
“And you thought that with us gone, everything would go back to normal?” the man asked, “Tell me, do you think that Rhaena would be happy with you, should you have succeeded and burnt this place to the ground?”
Baela found herself taken aback by that question. She hadn’t thought that far. Not really. She had just wanted something, anything, to get rid of the pain she felt. But the moment he said it, she saw it. The look on Rhaena’s face… Would she mourn them as she did Mother? Would she hate Baela for what she had done?
“I don’t know,” Baela muttered, not wanting to admit it to the sorcerer.
Harry Potter didn’t seem bothered by her lack of answer; if anything, he looked like he had expected it. “Let’s change things up a bit. I have a question to ask you. Imagine that Rhaena wasn’t spending time with us, that she had made a friend, one that she refused to let you meet. Would you burn them too? They wouldn’t have been able to stop you, not with a dragon at your back. Would you burn an innocent young boy or girl, perhaps even their entire family, because you think Rhaena is replacing you?”
Baela looked away, jaw tightening. It was a cruel question. A sharp one. She didn’t answer because she genuinely didn’t know. She wanted to say no, to refuse as the action would have been monstrous, but hadn’t she planned to do the same to the sorcerer and his wife?
The sorcerer gave her a gentle smile, “These violent delights have violent ends. Rushing into things without thinking things through rarely ever leads to good results. You’re not a bad girl, Baela. You know, do you want to know what I thought of you when I first met you?”
Baela nodded, still unable to trust her voice, and the man continued, “I thought you were an energetic girl with an adventurous soul, who looked up to her father. It’s why I gave you that dagger in the first place. It suited you, who you are. Now, do you want to know what I thought of Rhaena on that same day?”
The young girl froze as she had nodded slightly at his assessment of her. The man didn’t seem inclined to wait for her to answer, “I saw a lost girl who did not know what she wanted in life. A girl who still mourned her mother with every breath, who tried to live up to the insane expectation of being perfect for her mother’s sake. I saw a girl who did not think that her family cared for her because of her lack of dragon, enough that later that night, she had almost gotten herself killed trying to claim the Cannibal.”
“What?!” Baela yelled, “The Cannibal?”
“Yes, she was. When I found her that night, she’d been chased by the dragon for a while. I drove it off, of course. I invited her into my home and calmed her down. I believe her dragon hatched that very same night. These actions were those of a desperate person, trying in vain to become a Dragonrider like the rest of her family, trying to fill a void inside her that a dragon could never do, a void left by your mother when she passed. I looked at Rhaena and saw a lost girl, and so, I decided to show her the world so that she would find her place in it one day.”
It was odd for the sorcerer to say that history lessons were the same as seeing the world, but Baela didn’t care. She was too preoccupied with the idea that her sister had almost died, alone, without her even knowing about it. She knew that Rhaena was very close to their mother and that when she died, she wasn’t the same. Baela wasn’t the same either, especially when the rest of their family kept bickering about thrones instead of mourning her.
The truth of the matter was that, other than her and her twin, only her father, her Uncle Laenor, and her grandparents mourned Laena Velaryon’s death.
And yet, over the years, the ache had faded slightly. No, she had learned to live with it, but she always thought that Rhaena was the same. “She still mourns Mother?”
“So do you,” Harry Potter replied, “The day you lose someone isn’t the worst, at least you’ve got something to do. It’s all the days after they stay dead.”
Baela’s heart twinged at these words, especially about how true they really were. She sometimes remembered her mother at very odd moments, a familiar smell or sometimes when Rhaena laughed. They were small things that made her feel sad.
The sorcerer continued ignoring what his words made her feel, “Rhaena hasn’t truly been living for a while, just stewing in grief, feeling lost without her mother. You still did this, but you moved past it, likely due to your closeness with your father, something that Rhaena didn’t have. Instead, all she had was her life upended, moving to another place, and her father seemingly replacing her deceased mother with Rhaenyra. She wanted something to do on her own, that made her unique, something like your dagger lessons with your father, and I had no reason to refuse her. She isn’t abandoning you, Baela. She never was.”
Baela looked down at her hands, clenching them tightly. “I just… I miss her. I miss how we used to be.”
“Then tell her that,” Harry said, sipping his drink once more. “Before she thinks you don’t want her anymore, either. Now, why don’t you have a drink? It’s a bit of a cold night, and I have it on good authority that hot chocolate is good for late-night talks.”
She looked at him and saw him hand a hot cup of something. She didn’t know what it was and couldn’t see it, since it was night, so she just decided to take a sip of the odd drink. The taste was odd, but in a good, earthy way. It made her feel warm inside, like a hearth had been lit in her chest.
She took another sip, slower this time. Each one made her relax slightly, the rage that she realised was still there slipping away. They must have made an odd sight, a sorcerer and a Targaryen princess sipping some strange hot liquid and staring at the sea in the middle of the night, while a young dragon slumbered in the sand behind them.
Baela exhaled slowly, her shoulders dropping just a little. “She was right about you. Rhaena, she said that you were kind.”
“I like to do my best. However, I do believe that you will be taking back these words soon.”
She didn’t like where this was going. “Why is that?”
“Well, I was planning on meeting your grandparents and talking about Rhaena tomorrow morning, but I suppose they’d like to know what their other granddaughter has been up to.”
He snickered at Baela’s horrified expression, “Did you really think that trying to burn my home to the ground would have no consequences? Kindness only gets you so far, I’m afraid, and actions always have consequences.”
AN: Phew, this chapter was harder to write than I expected. It was a bit tricky to make it so the chapters start with Baela trying to burn the manse down and end with them drinking Hot Chocolate together on a beach, without it seeming a bit sudden. I tried to make it like a progression of some sort, but even now, I’m not exactly sure I pulled it off. As usual, I don’t mind rewriting this depending on your feedback, so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
Marius Petrauskas
nice
Garri Sarkisov
Always a teacher
