Prophecy and Nonsense.

                                    

                                          
I want to start by saying thank you for the 19k . Thanks for the ones reading and commenting. I'm still waiting on the comments. As for the ones commenting, thank you so much as it helped me to write quickly 😆 🤣 😂 😹 .
Daemon and Daario sat near a makeshift fire, the warmth a small comfort in the otherwise cold and tense atmosphere. Daario broke the silence with a sudden comment.
"You know, we'd be moving a lot quicker if we'd just used your dragon," he said, a hint of defiance in his voice.
Daemon glared at him, picking up a burnt stick and holding it in his hand. "First, call my dragon a 'beast' again, and I'll make sure you regret it," he snapped. "And second, the whole point of this is to remain unseen. Riding a dragon to the Horselord's land would draw far too much attention."
Daario clenched his jaw but said nothing, knowing that Daemon was right. Their mission required stealth, and as much as he hated to admit it, the dragon would only make things more difficult.
As the fire crackled between them, both men were lost in their thoughts, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air.
As they spoke, Daemon and Daario's keen ears picked up a suspicious sound in the distance. Daemon quickly signaled Daario to feign ignorance and keep their reactions in check. Both men discreetly grabbed their swords, pretending to head in the opposite direction of the sound.
Daemon telepathically communicated with Caraxes, his dragon, silently commanding him to locate the source of the noise. Without hesitation, Caraxes swooped down from the sky, releasing a ball of fire towards the unknown intruder. Landing gracefully, Caraxes pinned the intruder beneath his massive form.
With menacing steps, Daemon approached the pinned figure, his anger barely contained as he spoke. "I thought I had seen everything, but never in my life did I imagine someone could be so foolish," he spat.
The intruder, unable to move under Caraxes' weight, strained to speak. "Kindly tell your dragon to get off me," they demanded, a hint of desperation in their voice.
Daario, who had just arrived, let out a burst of laughter. "Well, if it isn't the northern bastard," he exclaimed, recognizing the intruder.
Jon continued to struggle beneath Caraxes' claws, his efforts futile against the dragon's powerful grip. Daario, though privy to some information, was still unaware of certain details.
Curiosity piqued, Daario turned to Daemon and asked, "I can understand why Daenerys might hold a grudge against Jon, but why do you? You weren't even there."
Daemon smirked cruelly and motioned for Daario to join him as they sat on nearby stones. "What do you know of the 'Prince That Was Promised' prophecy, sellsword?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain.
Daario shrugged, clearly uninterested in the topic. "A bunch of nonsense about some savior who would save the world, according to the followers of the Lord of Light."
Daemon let out a bitter laugh. "Ah, well said. Unfortunately, that nonsense got my Dragonflame, and everyone she loved, including herself, killed."
Daario raised an eyebrow. "And what does Jon have to do with it? I have a feeling I already know where this conversation is going."
"That miserable cunt beneath Caraxes broke his word, leading to her death," Daemon replied, his voice trembling with fury, his eyes locked on the struggling figure beneath the dragon's claw.
Jon, still struggling under Caraxes and feeling the dragon's drool on his face, managed to speak, "What would you have done in my place? She killed innocents!"