Chapter 134: Showing Off Now and Then
Fortunately, a few days earlier, Drogon had used the Ghiscari scorpions to train Rhaegal and Viserion. Otherwise, Daenerys didn't dare imagine whether the two dragons—still recovering from the dragon horn's effects—could have safely evaded those ambush bolts.
With Rhaegal and Viserion supporting the attack, the pursuit battle ended in just two hours.
Euron's fleet fled Slaver's Bay, abandoning over two hundred warships and a vast number of prisoners.
When news of the great victory reached Meereen, the city erupted into celebration. Citizens poured into the streets, cheering wildly. They had always believed their queen would prevail—but none had expected victory to come so swiftly.
Many had also heard the piercing, dreadful blast of the dragon horn, its sound leaving them restless and uneasy.
Some had even witnessed the agitation of Rhaegal and Viserion within the city walls, along with Queen Daenerys desperately trying to calm them.
Only afterward did they learn the truth—that the sound had come from the attackers' dragon horn, a weapon specifically designed to subdue dragons.
And the reason it had failed…
Was because the black dragon, Drogon, had resisted its influence, seized the horn, and spared the green and gold dragons from its control.
It was also Drogon who had slain the enemy's leader, halting the assault and allowing the queen's forces to launch their counterattack.
---
As Meereen celebrated, Drogon suddenly felt a surge of power flooding his mind—an immense influx of faith.
Normally, such a thing only happened when he hunted across the Dothraki Sea—and even then, never at this scale.
Listening closely, he began to pick out the chants within the cheering crowd:
"Long live the Queen!"
"Long live Drogon!"
Only then did he understand.
Without even realizing it, he had gained a new source of faith—beyond the vast grasslands.
Looking down at the jubilant city, Drogon found himself considering something…
Perhaps he should show off in Meereen every now and then—just enough to make that flow of faith grow even stronger.
---
After the battle, Daario and Yara, both visibly exhausted, arrived at the council chamber to deliver their report.
A total of 182 warships had been captured intact, along with over 13,000 prisoners.
On their side, only twelve ships had been lost, with fewer than eight hundred casualties.
By any measure, it was a decisive victory.
Most of the prisoners were Ironborn from the Iron Islands. After a period of detention, Daenerys planned to hand them all over to Yara's command.
The battle had proven Yara's courage—no less than any man's—and she understood the Ironborn better than anyone present. Some among the captives had even once served under her. No one was more suited to lead them.
---
During the report, however, Drogon heard something that genuinely shocked him.
Euron… might still be alive.
According to Daario, someone had seen Euron briefly appear on his ship before retreating into the cabin.
Several prisoners confirmed the sighting.
Drogon was stunned.
He clearly remembered Euron's eyeball bursting, his body going rigid, his breath gone—yet somehow, the man had survived.
Had he known, he would have followed up with a few more claws to finish the job.
And Drogon was certain of one thing—his mental attack had done far more than simply destroy Euron's "crow's eye." Even if the man lived, he wouldn't escape unscathed.
Still…
Euron's nickname would need an update.
Without his "crow's eye," calling him one-eyed seemed more fitting now—and this time, it wouldn't be for show.
A real one-eyed man.
He'd better not lose that eyepatch.
---
Though Daenerys was disappointed to hear that Euron had survived, the loss of the dragon horn meant he was no longer the same level of threat.
With Slaver's Bay stabilizing—and Euron having conveniently delivered ships and soldiers into her hands—Daenerys felt her long-suppressed desire to return to Westeros stir once more.
She quietly consulted Tyrion.
But Tyrion advised caution.
The region had only just been secured. The new recruits still needed training. The timing, he said, was not yet right.
Seeing Daenerys's impatience—and hearing Tyrion's reasoning—Drogon began to think.
Perhaps… he could help accelerate things.
---
In the Vale, at the Eyrie, Lord Yohn frowned deeply as he read a letter sent from King's Landing.
The day after Petyr Baelish—Littlefinger—had been thrown through the Moon Door, a demand had arrived from the capital, ordering that Baelish be handed over for imprisonment and interrogation.
But Yohn had no one to hand over.
Instead, he claimed that Baelish had accidentally rolled off the Sky Cells during the night… plunging down the mountainside and shattering into pieces.
After sending his reply to King's Landing, Yohn received another letter just a day ago.
This time, it made no mention of Petyr Baelish—but its demands were even more troubling.
Somehow, King's Landing had learned that Sansa and Arya were in the Eyrie.
The letter claimed that Sansa was the mastermind behind the poisoning of King Joffrey Baratheon, and that Arya, daughter of the traitor Eddard Stark, was herself a criminal.
Both were to be sent back immediately.
Yohn didn't believe for a second that Sansa—a young girl—could have poisoned a king in a place as heavily guarded as King's Landing, and during a royal wedding no less.
There had to be deeper secrets at play.
But he had no desire to uncover them.
Sometimes, knowing too much only brought trouble.
Naturally, he didn't want to hand over the daughters of his deceased friend to their deaths.
Yet if he refused, Queen Regent Cersei Lannister might march her armies on the Vale.
The Eyrie was easy to defend and difficult to assault—but its lord was still a child, Lady Lysa was newly dead, and there was no true authority holding things together.
Relying solely on the Lords Declarant, including himself, would not be enough to command universal loyalty.
If King's Landing truly attacked, the Vale's noble houses might not unite against Cersei.
---
Just as he found himself caught in this dilemma, a knock sounded at the door.
When he opened it, Sansa and Arya stood outside.
"Lord Yohn, has another letter come from King's Landing?" Sansa asked as soon as they entered.
Yohn felt a mix of headache and helplessness when facing the sisters.
After Petyr's death, he had carefully reflected on everything that had happened over those two days.
And the more he thought about it, the more it all seemed… too coincidental.
Just as Baelish himself had said—Sansa's testimony before Arya arrived could very well have differed from what she said after Arya's arrival.
Later, Yohn had also noticed something by chance.
While playing at sword-fighting with Robin, Arya's movements were far from those of an ordinary noble girl.
Only then did he understand why Eddard's "bastard" son, Jon, had given his sister a real sword.
Arya didn't just like using a blade—
She was good with it.
Yohn could tell that Arya's style emphasized agility and precision, rather than the brute strength of a typical knight. It was likely she had even been guided by a skilled master.
That explained how, that day, Arya had been able to seize Robin's hand and guide the blade straight into Petyr's chest.
The thought made Yohn bitterly amused.
Three seasoned old men of their alliance… outmaneuvered by two young girls.
---
"Sansa, I'll ask you one more time," Yohn said, fixing his gaze on her clear blue eyes. "Was Lady Lysa truly pushed through the Moon Door by Petyr?"
Sansa knew full well that their small deceptions could hardly remain hidden from Yohn. He had simply not reacted in time back then.
"Lord Yohn," she replied calmly, meeting his gaze without hesitation, "every word I spoke that day was the truth. Though I don't know why Petyr pushed my aunt through the Moon Door… it was indeed he who did it."
Yohn nodded.
After all, none of them truly believed that Lady Lysa would abandon her own son and choose to take her own life.