King Daemon Stark

For three years he had been away from Winterfell, three years in which winter had come and gone and spring had come and gone; now summer was here. Three years in which Daemon had fought battles and negotiated deals to bring the wildlings or the free folk as they preferred to be called into the kingdom of the north and the iron islands. It was something that had always been a dream of his as a child, he had never understood why his grandfather had only cared about the south, he would never understand why the Blackfyres were so much more important to his grandfather than his actual family and his actual people. The lords of the north and the Iron Islands might sing the praises of his grandfather now, but Daemon remembered when a different song was sung of him, he never wanted to be his grandfather and he wanted nothing to do with the south.

In that respect growing up in the Wolf's Den had gone him a world of good, where as that fool Lucerys Blackfyre had grown up hearing stories of the Dragonknight and the Young Dragon and had his head filled with stupid ideas of southern honour and adventure, Daemon had grown up hearing about Brandon the Builder, Benjen the Sweet, Theon the Hungry Wolf and Brandon Ice Eyes. Northern heroes, whose duty had been to the north and who had fought the wildlings and protected the north from harm. Daemon had always wondered why none of them had ever thought to bring the wildlings into the kingdom, and the more he thought about it the more he thought it would make sense. The Night's Watch was a shadow of what it truly should be, the wildings were of the first men same as the northmen, the giants were their friends not their enemies. It made more sense to ally with them and bring them under leadership from Winterfell.

Daemon had spent the first nine years of his reign ensuring that the peace in the south continued meanwhile he also asked for maps and information about the lands and people beyond the wall from his uncle at the Night's Watch. If he were to bring the free folk under his command he might as well know all there was to know about them, he had figured. So far it had served him in good stead, the lands that were now being termed the crow lands, everything including Craster's Keep, Whitetree village and the Haunted Forest belonged to Winterfell now, the wildling tribes there had either been beaten into submission or had been incorporated through negotiation. Torrhen Thunderfist a wildling who had led the wildlings of Whitetree had been elected as the leader of the Crow Lands people.

From there they had moved to the Milkwater where they had fought the wargornmin clans led by one Alester Murgan, who claimed to be a descendant of a bastard son of Raymun Redbeard. It had been Daemon's pleasure to slay the bastard whose own ancestor had slain Daemon's own one. The wildlings he had led had bent the knee or fled to the Frostfangs, where Daemon had then sent men under Ser Loras Manderly and Lord Edric Glover, they had met much success, the wildlings of the Skirling pass and the Frozen Shore had bent the knee after a fierce fight, Daemon had acknowledged Harmon Wolfslayer as the chief of the wildlings of the Frozen Shore and acknowledged that his line would become the hereditary rulers of the Frozen Shore. The ruler of the Frostfangs had been decided as well, Rodrik Crowkiller a fierce man had been named ruler of the fangs by Daemon after he had beaten the man in single combat, a fight that had given him the Frostfangs and the respect of the free folk, even more than what he had had before, something that seemed to impress his bannermen and his wife.

His wife, gods there was a painful thought if ever there was one he had had. His wife, Visenya Blackfyre was a very smart, cunning, beautiful and stubborn woman. He cared for her deeply, as the mother of his children and his wife, he cared for her a lot, but there were somethings that he just could not understand. Their argument had hit to close to home, and though it had been three moons ago they had not spoken to each other beyond the compulsory greetings that they needed to give one another during war councils and whilst with the men to keep up appearances, and it was beginning to eat away at Daemon. He cared for his wife, and yet he would not admit weakness to her, she had crossed a line when she had mentioned Samaira, and had she not been his wife he would have had sense beaten into her. No one would bring up Samaira and his grandfather in the same breath and live, but she was his wife and he would not kill her. Instead he would ignore and deal with the problems they had once this was all done.

Of course as always happened when he thought about his wife, his thoughts turned to their children. His eldest daughters Daenaera and Delena who were as different as night and day, where Daenaera was polite and charming, Delena was rough around the edges and not afraid to speak her mind. Daemon knew Visenya got along much more with Delena, after all Delena had taken to her martial training with as much gusto as could be possible for a girl of her age. Daenaera on the other hand had never truly liked it and so had come to him to complain, Daemon had argued with Visenya then and then Daenaera had done something Daemon was so very proud of, she had told her mother where she could shove her martial training and though Visenya was hurt she was also proud of Daenaera for standing up to her, Daemon merely wished that his daughter did not still feel as if her mother hated her, he knew that road and he never wanted his children to feel that way, yet Visenya was to damn stubborn to admit to any of it. His eldest son and heir Aemon was a mama's boy who was growing to be a good warrior from what Maester Aemon told him, and Daemon knew that eventually he would need to wean him away from Visenya, and away from the southern nonsense she was likely to instil in him. His other children were far too young for him to know what they were truly like though once this was all done he intended to get to know them and make up for lost time.

"Your Grace," Lord Umber's words brought him out of his thoughts. Daemon looked at the man and then nodded for him to continue. "As I was saying, our scouts report that Andros Thenn has gathered his men and other allies and his marching towards the border between the Thenn lands and the Frostfangs."

Rodrik Crowkiller speaks then. "Of course Thenn would bring his men to the border, he wants to use that as a ploy to lead you into his own heartland, where we will be cut off from the supply lines and then he will use the giants to bring hell fire down upon us."

"And how do you know that? Is that something you would do Crowkiller? Considering you are sat here with us and not rotting on a spike, perhaps you have more sense than this Thenn." Lord Theon Wull says.

Crowkiller bristles and says. "Aye it is something I would do, but Andros Thenn is a proud man, but he has always relied to heavily on the giants to be his enforcers, should they be taken away from him he will have no choice but to fight and die or bend the knee."

"And I thought you said free folk were not kneelers Lord Rodrik," Daemon says teasingly. "Now tell me what you mean by taking away the giants. What reason would they have to agree to anything I have to offer to them?"

"What I mean Your Grace, is that the giants might not respond well to written terms but should you challenge one of their own to single combat, they will certainly take you seriously enough." Crowkiller replies.

Lord Cregan Umber laughs then and asks. "And what madness would make you think his grace would ever agree to that? The giants can fight for the Thenns; it will just make defeating them all sweeter when it happens."

Daemon is silent for a moment before he says. "I do not want any more bloodshed than has to be absolutely necessary. This campaign has already dragged on for long enough. If challenging one of the giants to single combat will bring us their allegiance then I shall go for it. Now who do you think would be most likely to accept this proposal Rodrik?"

The Crowkiller is silent for a long moment pondering the question before he eventually replies. "Well Marg Man Tun Doh is what you would call a chieftain amongst the giant clans, if you send the proposal to you he will agree. He has never liked having to work for the Thenns."

"Very well," Daemon says. "Send a rider out, in fact Rodrik you may go along with Andrew Blackwood and you two will bring Marg Doh to a place of my choosing, in fact the Weepers Ridge should do just nicely, and you will tell him the terms of the combat. We fight till the death."

The two of them accompanied by Ondrew Locke and Steffon Ryswell of the Winter's Guard set of later that day and meet them at the Weepers Ridge two weeks later with Marg Doh and his company of 200 giants. Daemon rides out to greet the giant king and says loudly and clearly in the Old Tongue. "You know the condition of this fight Marg Doh? You know what will happen to your people when I kill you?"

Doh's voice is guttural though it is easy enough to understand what he says after he has dismounted from his mammoth and caused the ground to shake. "Of course kneeler king, and when I have killed you, I will take your wife as a bed mate."

Daemon smiles and dismounts from his own horse, and then unsheathes Ice. The two of them circle round each other, Daemon with his sword drawn ready, Doh with his club in one hand and a bone in the other. Doh makes the first move taking a large swing of his club at Daemon, Daemon manages to duck and avoid the swing just in time. Doh is big but he is also clumsy, the giant takes a few more swings some of which Daemon ducks and avoids, others which connect with his helmet and send him reeling to the ground. He manages to get up before Doh can bring down the hammer blow on him though.

He manages to get a few of his own blows in, swinging his sword at the exposed parts of Doh's legs and body, cutting deep and drawing blood causing Doh to groan and howl with pain, which also causes Daemon to be knocked off his feet a fare few times. His armour is cracked and dented and he is bleeding profusely, when he staggers up after yet another blow, Doh is tiring out, Daemon can see that plain as day, though if Doh is tired Daemon is nearly passing out with exhaustion, still when the giant swings at him once more he manages to duck and manages to get through the gap between the club and the giant's legs and swings Ice at both of the beast's hamstrings striking them both in quick succession. Before the giant can react he runs out hacking at the hamstrings again. Doh growls with pain and begins falling down, Daemon's sword is red with his blood, the ground they are fighting on is red with blood. Doh falls to the ground, making the earth shake with the force of his weight. Daemon struggles up towards him, and as soon as he can he climbs on top of the beast, and though his vision is blurry and his body is in a lot of pain he manages to raise Ice up in the air one last time and brings is down and pierces it through the giant's throat killing him and bringing the giants to his side.

He passes out after that, and wakes up much later in his tent, from what he can see from his bed it is night time, though he knows not how long he has been out, Mars is nowhere to be seen though there is someone in his tent. "Who..." he manages to croak out his voice hoarse from disuse.

"It's me Daemon. It's Visenya, your wife." Visenya says coming to sit beside him, she dabs a wet cloth on his face then and he feels warmth envelop him.

"I know who you are Visenya, I'm injured not deaf." Daemon snaps, and he goes to sit up and winces with pain.

"And the healers of the free folk and Maester Willam all say you need to rest, whilst your lords discuss the attack on Thenn." His wife replies.

"What are you doing here Visenya? I thought you would be in the war council, using my men against me?" Daemon asks his voice barely above a whisper.

"What can a woman not take care of her husband when he is injured? I did learn more than just fighting when I was growing up Daemon. Besides, what were you thinking going up against the giant on your own like, that you could have been killed, you nearly were killed!" Visenya chastises him.

"I had to do what needed to be done. The giants would only accept me as their king if I defeated one of their own in single combat so I challenged their king to the combat and he lost I won. End of story." Daemon says matter of factly.

"And what would have happened to me and the children had you died? In case you had not noticed or remembered, you are a father now Daemon and a king, Aemon is not ready to rule, he needs you. The rest of our children need you, the north needs you, I need you." Visenya says sharply.

"Pah," Daemon snorts. "As if you actually care whether I live or die Visenya. If I had died, you would have assumed the regency and then used the free folk, the giants and my lords to wage a war that would have ended in yet another defeat for your nephew and the Blackfyre cause. And the peace I have been striving for and working towards keeping for the past decade would have gone up in smoke."

"Do you really think so little of me Daemon? After all this time, do you truly think that I would do something like that? I know what this peace means to you and to the north, and I would never do anything to endanger that or our children's lives." Visenya replies, sounding hurt.

Though he knows she is likely telling the truth, he has been feeling like this for some time now and now that he has spoken the words won't stop coming. "Oh really Visenya? Then explain to me why you keep sending ravens to houses in the south and meeting with lords from the south? And don't tell me that you are trying to negotiate better trade deals for the north, I would know about better trade deals if there were such things. You have been meeting with them so that you can plot a war to seat your nephew on the throne. Well tell me if you want our children safe and sound, why do that? Doing that has brought nothing but pain and sorrow to my family and to yours and to thousands of others before, why dig up old wounds again Visenya why?"

"Because the Targaryens are usurpers who deserve to be punished for the crimes that they have committed against my family and yours and to take back what was taken from my family. Don't tell me a small part of you doesn't want revenge for all the wrongs that were committed against the north by the Targaryens?" Visenya asks, staring him straight in the face with eyes so like Daenaera's.

"I had my revenge when Duncan the Small, Duncan the Tall and King Aegon the Unlikely died and when my grandfather briefed his last. Visenya, your family brought nothing but grief, death and pain to the north and my family. I am the head of both now and I will not allow another war to happen, and I will not see the north exploited for it again. I will not have House Stark seen as nothing more than a sanctuary for exiled Blackfyres. And I will not have my children grow up nothing more than war." Daemon snarls, wincing with the effort.

"Then what do you want of me Daemon? How can I work with you, if you don't let me in?" Visenya asks her voice choking up now.

"What do you mean, I speak with you, I tell you about the council and the children. What more do you want from me Visenya?" Daemon asks.

"You only speak to me of the children, nothing more nothing less Daemon. That's not what being married is only about. We should tell each other our worries and our joys, I tell you everything and yet you never give anything back. How am I supposed to know if what I am doing is upsetting you or angering you if you don't tell me? I didn't even know you wanted to bring the free folk to heel until two days before you rode out for the wall. How can we keep our children safe and sound, if we don't even know each other?" Visenya asks a tear in her eye.

Daemon sighs and says. "I suppose I should have been straight with you from the start. I know you grew up in exile and had to fight for your life pretty much from the very beginning, and that you never knew peace. But I did, and I do. You think my grandfather was some sort of god for fighting for your family even when you kept on losing and members kept on dying, the whole bloody kingdom thinks that my grandfather was some sort of god, and some sort of paragon of honour. But he wasn't he was a coward and a man who made a promise to someone who died so long ago that he barely even remembered his face, he kept living to that promise and it tore my family apart, and it killed my father, my mother and my uncle and aunt. It ripped my family in half, and I swore to myself that I would never allow something like that to happen, I would never allow war to tear my family apart again. The south, Targaryens, Blackfyres, Valyrians all they've ever done has torn my family apart, and I mean more than just the children, or anyone else, I mean the people of the north and the Islands. I am a king Visenya and I owe them a responsibility and a duty to their protection that includes the free folk and the giants. I swore to myself that I would never be the aggressor or the mad man my grandfather was, I wanted to be a protector, I wanted people to feel safe with me and around me and with my rule, the way they never did under my grandfather. That's why I launched this campaign of the lands beyond the wall, the free folk and the giants they are my blood, and they need protecting, a darkness is coming and we will need to be united when it comes otherwise we shall all be destroyed, and I will not see my family destroyed again, not by the dark and not some stupid throne that no one really cares about."


Lord Tywin Lannister

Winter had come and gone, as had spring, summer reigned supreme now, the 276th year since Aegon's Landing. Tywin Lannister had been hand of the king for fourteen years now, having taken charge following King Aerys coronation. Being hand of the king was an honour that Tywin took great pleasure in, he loved his work, the court politics, the game and the intrigue it was what he was born for, it was what he was made to do and he enjoyed it thoroughly, he was quite convinced that he was the best player at court at the moment, perhaps only old Lord Maegon was better than him at the game, but Lord Maegon would soon be dead and Tywin would reign supreme as the master player of the game. The king himself was oblivious to the games going on around him, the king cared about one thing and one thing only, making sure that House Targaryen retained its unquestioned control over the kingdoms that they still had under their possession and the mistakes of his forbearers were erased and the mistakes never made again. Tywin could understand that, he had taken such steps with House Lannister after his father had died nine years ago, the whore had been dismissed and never heard from again, the Reynes and Tarbecks extinguished, the Westerlings shown their place.

The duties of the hand were many and varies, Aerys had in the beginning never missed a small council or court session, and so Tywin's work had mainly been to actually carry out the things the king wanted done, as the king himself was not much of a doer, more of a delegator, which was perfectly fine for him as it allowed him to ensure the interests of House Lannister were looked after in the small print. He ensured that the Master of Coin, Walder Frey made sure that the Lannisters got the best trade deals and that the taxes the Westerlords had to pay were reduced by a small amount, not enough to attract notice. And then something had happened to the king and he had started missing small council and court sessions and trusting in Tywin to make sure that the court and the kingdoms were run to their proper station.

This had given Tywin scope and space to ensure that his house's interests at court were even more firmly met, Walder Frey was firmly in his pocket, and so the master of coin ensured that the trade deals, the best deals for the trade with the north and with the free cities and with Dorne went to Casterly Rock, where Joanna had made sure that the ship masters knew to further haggle down the prices they paid to the suppliers of the goods that were then sold to the other kingdoms in the southern kingdom. Tywin also cultivated quite a following at court, Rosby, Ryger, Mooton, Celtigar, Massey and Bar Emmon they all were strong allies to have in the crownlands, and out of the crownlands circle at court there was Hoster Tully who often frequented court, Walder Frey himself, Lord Mace Tyrell and half of the Reach. Yes, Tywin was quite confident in his assumption that he was the most powerful man at court, and that the king was still powerful but was merely propped up by Tywin and his skill.

Tywin knew that Aerys appreciated the hard work and the ways in which he went about achieving the tasks set before him, and that there were some members of the council who had not been able to stomach doing similar things. The case in point being the ever honourable Jon Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie and the Vale and Warden of the East. The Arryns had always been known by their honour, and their unwillingness to do anything that would compromise that honour, and so it seemed that Jon Arryn as master of laws had done things that had seemingly gone to far beyond his moral compass, though when Tywin had looked at everything Arryn had had to deal with he could not truly fathom why the man would want to resign and leave behind a very influential position at court. As far as he could tell Jon Arryn had never had to do something that far out of the barriers of the law as defined by the throne, and had never had to bend over backwards to get something done for the king, and as far as Tywin was concerned the man was a fool for giving up such a influential position and would most likely suffer the king's wrath in the years to come.

Still for as good as things were going at court, at home at the Rock, things were far from good and settled. Tywin's twins, his golden twins Jaime and Cersei were thriving, Jaime as a squire for Summer Crakehall, and Cersei at court she had charmed the court to her side as well as Prince Rhaegar. That was all well and good, but his sweet and beautiful Joanna had died, died giving birth to a twisted monster of a child, a dwarf whom Tywin had learnt had been named Tyrion. Tywin had spent two days in the Rock following Joanna's death, he was there for her burial and then he left, he returned to the rock with Cersei and he did not return to the rock for another two moons, and then he was greeted by Loreza Martell and her Dornish brats as she tried to negotiate a marriage settlement, Tywin told her no and he did not regret it, his children could do better than the Martell exiles. His heart longed for Joanna and for a chance to spend time with his children, but he had a duty to the realm and to his family and he could not shirk that off, even if he wanted to. And if he was being honest with himself he did not wish to return to the Rock to find that his wife was not there but his monster of a son was. He did not want to face that, and he wanted to make sure he never had to face that, the child would be gone by the time he next returned to the rock in two weeks time for the tourney to welcome the royal family to the rock.

For the time being though Tywin turned his thoughts back to the small council meeting that was in full swing. The members, master of coin Walder Frey, master of laws Ser Arnold Mooton, master of ships the ailing Lord Maegon Velaryon, master of whispers Lord Roose Bolton, grand maester Pycelle and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Gerold Hightower. "I am telling you my lords, the crown cannot afford to continue antagonizing the iron bank like this, our own bank is not seeing enough money coming in from the taxes that we are putting on the houses in the riverlands and the vale and the Stormlands." Lord Walder Frey said his voice annoyed and tired.

"And it is your duty as master of coin to make sure these taxes are being collected and paid in their full amount Lord Walder. Unless you have been skimping some of the profits for your own needs?" Lord Maegon asks.

"How dare you," Lord Walder says blustering. "I have been nothing but a loyal servant to his grace for the past fourteen years. If anyone is at fault it is the lords responsible for making their payments less and it is why I am saying we cannot afford to piss off the iron bank not now, not when we need them to be on our side more than ever."

"Have the iron bank said they are unhappy with what we have been telling them about the loan repayment lord Walder?" Tywin asks.

"No my lord hand they have not, but the suggestion is there." Walder Frey replies.

Tywin is silent for a moment and then he replies. "Well then, write to the iron bank and tell them they will get the loan repayment in a moon's time. Send word to the houses not paying the full amount of their tax and tell them if they do not pay the remaining amount in full to the crown within two weeks they will have to answer to the king's justice. Now what other issues are there for us to discuss. Lord Roose has there been word from our sources in Dorne and the north?"

Lord Roose, a quiet man and unassuming to most, a dangerous foe to have though and very useful to have as an ally, spoke softly in response. "My sources report that the tensions within Dorne are reaching boiling point. Allyrion, Santagar and our new contact in Dorne have been stirring the pot against the Yronwoods and have come up with some new information and some new allies for the Martells. Fowler, Qorgyle and Vaith are all backing the Martell invasion, the commander of the garrison of the Roost is under our pay, and all we need now is the king's say so and the civil war will go ahead."

Tywin nods and then asks. "And what of the north, what has Daemon Stark being doing?"

"Daemon Stark has been consolidating his hold over the lands beyond the wall and over the wildlings my lord. After bringing the crow lands, the frozen shore, the Frostfangs and Thenn under his command he appointed several chiefs to oversee these lands. There was a rebellion led by the Sagran clan that was put down quite brutally by the Magnar of Thenn, and another rebellion led by Thorin Crowfood that was crushed by the Night's Watch and Torrhen Thunderfist. In short Daemon Stark's control over the lands beyond the wall is secure for the time being." Roose Bolton replied.

"You say the Night's Watch helped in putting down a rebellion led by Crowfood, but are the Watch not sworn to take no part in the affairs of a realm? Have they not broken that vow by crushing a rebellion?" Lord Velaryon asked.

Bolton smiled then and said. "Well in light of the treaty that Stark and the wildling chieftains signed upon the completion of his conquest, the watch still retains its third party status but can act on its own instincts. Lord Commander Matthew Marsh believed that the wildlings would threaten the wall unless the rebellion was crushed and that was the reasoning he gave for getting involved."

Tywin nods and then says. "Well if that is all then this council is dismissed." And with that he spent the next month preparing for the king's journey to the Rock, he left for the Rock a day after the payment to the Iron Bank was sent off, obviously the lords who had been holding back payment had gotten the message loud and clear. The tourney of Lannisport was the best Tywin had seen for a very long time, with the royal family in attendance, the whole of the Westerlands came to attend, as did the lords from the Riverlands, the Stormlands and the Vale with some coming from the Reach and some even from the North. The tourney was held for four days, there was singing, feasts, jousting, archery and a melee. The Melee was won by Tywin's brother Tygett, and though Tywin had expected nothing less from his brother, he still felt some pride for his little brother at the victory. The jousting was won by Prince Rhaegar, newly knighted and a shining example of the Targaryen future, he beat Tywin's brother Gerion, goodbrother Stafford, Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Gwayne Gaunt and Ser Jonothor Darry of the Kingsguard before crowning Tywin's own daughter Cersei as Queen of Love and Beauty, something that gave Tywin hope that what he was to ask of Aerys that night would go down well.

Once the feast was done, it was just Tywin and Aerys left in the great hall, the king was quite drunk, having had more than his fare share of wine, Tywin was of course sober as day. He cleared his throat and said. "Your Grace, it has been an utmost honour having you here at Casterly Rock. Prince Rhaegar did House Targaryen very proud today in the jousting. I hope you and your family have enjoyed your time here."

"Yes, yes it went well and was good and all. But I must say the Rock is a poorer place with Joanna around. Your wife truly would have everything much better Tywin." Aerys slurred.

Tywin gritted his teeth and tried to hold in the anger he felt coming. Aerys continued. "Did you know she told me she loved me before she married you, and that had her father not been wanting her as Lady of the Rock and had I not been married already she would have married me. Did you know that Tywin? I would have been wed to Joanna and you would not have. Pah, but I know you did not keep me here for reminiscing, now out with it, what do you want?"

Tywin swallowed and took a deep breath before saying. "I was hoping to get your agreement on strengthening the ties between our two families. I am hand of the king and your most loyal servant, and believe that my daughter Cersei would make a fine wife for Prince Rhaegar."

The king swayed slightly in his seat and then opened his mouth to speak, but before he did so he laughed and Tywin felt something in his gut sink. "Oh Tywin, truly you are most leal servant, more so than that rat Frey or that stiff bag of bones Mooton, or even mine own uncle Maegon, but you are just that a servant. The dragon does not marry a servant. This marriage will not happen."