190 after Aegon's Conquest
Storm clouds were brewing over Westeros as Daeron II Targaryen struggles in keeping the Seven Kingdoms together while his brother Daemon Blackfyre began to fan the flames of rebellion the result of Aegon the Unworthy's spiteful decision of legitimizing his bastards, it was at this time that ships from the south of Essos began to arrive, these people have been well known at Slaver's bay landing and then liberating the slaves from their harsh masters before moving towards Volantis where despite failing to sack the city they effectively raided and pillage its countryside. To the people at Slaver's bay they were called the Enigmatic and Dark Golden Ones, to the Volantenes the Fair, Tall, and Dark Corsairs from Sothoryos, although these people had said that they do not come from the dark continent, however these people are known by a different name which shall be known across the world, the name that they call themselves these people are the Ar-Adûnâim.
The Ar-Adûnâim or the Adûnâim, the first word roughly meant King's Men and the other Western Men, although these people call themselves as Numenoreans collectively they claimed to be from an isle called Numenor which their name comes from and because of pride the isle was sunk to the bottom of the sea, and the only people left were the ones from their colonies in which the Ar-Adûnâim came from and decided to leave for some greater purpose as is stated by their leader Ar-Gimilkhâd through his children. They arrived in the Crownlands after their exploits in Slaver's bay and Volantis where Ar-Gimilkhâd lost his life alongside his eldest son and therefore his youngest son Ar-Gimilthôn led their peoples across the Narrow sea to Westeros where their Black sailed ships were seen with awe and fear.
Lady Myriah Nymeros Martell gives a quite detailed description of these people, and base on those descriptions of what she saw, the Ar-Adûnâim are somewhat otherworldly and supernatural in her eyes;
'They (the Numenoreans) were to put it briefly were so tall in stature that they overtopped us by two cubits, narrow in the waist and loins were they with broad shoulders and a deep chest and powerful arms, their build was neither too slender nor too overweight in the flesh but perfect as if one of those statues in the Sept concerning the Warrior, despite being pale like the Stony Dornishmen in the north of Dorne, they are a little tan probably because of their exposure to the salt, the sun, and the sea, although one can mistake them as Northerners for they had long faces that reminded us of wolves and grey dark eyes that seem to pierce us if we stare long enough to them and reminded us of the moon high in the darkest of the nights, handsome and beautiful all of them are albeit there is something dark lingering in that handsomeness. All of them were always armed with swords if it were not available, a dagger that was safely kept behind their pants, their clothing were either simply black and gold with red lining it, even their armor had that gold yet blackened hue like that of burnt wood, like their ships. All of them especially the family of Ar-Gimilthôn moved with a grace that is otherworldly like they expect everyone to bow before them either by a word or just by his thoughts'
Ar-Gimilthôn was followed by two old wisemen wearing blue the two seemingly arguing with the man in their tongue, as the chroniclers said, before meeting the then King of the Seven Kingdoms, Daeron II Targaryen who offered them salt and bread, a custom that was met with strange hesitancy from Ar-Gimilthôn who looks at King Daeron then at his two advisers;
'Speaking in his tongue, Ar-Gimilthôn asked the King through his advisers what is the meaning of such offering of salt and bread, when it was then explained he decided to partake in it although with great hesitation after the solemnizing act that granted guest rights, Daeron asks why their people arrived in Westeros there Ar-Gimilthôn said that he was looking for new lands so his people may thrive, they had sailed from Slaver's bay had harried its masters and liberated its slaves but knew that all of them cannot thrive there, they went to Volantis and had tried to talk with its leaders but the fear of the Volantenes of hearing their exploits caused them to try and attack and enslave them which resulted in the death of Ar-Gimilthôn's father, Ar-Gimilkhâd struck down by a Volantene spear when scaling the walls while his brother, Gimilzôr, died trying to retrieve their father's body it was quite an epic tale one that can be told by a minstrel. Clearly Ar-Gimilthôn is a man that was thrust in the leadership of their people'
It was quite a tale as Daeron himself gave condolences to the misery that the Ar-Adûnâim experienced and had thus decided to grant the Numenoreans refuge in the Crownlands until they are ready to once more seek land in which they can land and settle, but he also said that if Ar-Gimilthôn would be willing to bend the knee and swear allegiance and fealty to the Iron Throne then maybe he might grant them lands to which they could settle.
"It is not in the nature of the older brother to kneel to his younger brother, we are the eldest of all men, of the ancient line of Elros Tar-Minyatur when Numenor began, of Ar-Pharazôn when Numenor sank because of Sauron the betrayer, and of Berúthiel who succeeded in uniting the blood of Pharazôn and Elendil, we of the Blood of Numenor will not kneel to you even if we had to live on our ships or to starve because you denied us harbor" before swords of the King's guard could be drawn because of those words Daeron called for them to halt and calm as he knew that it was a pride of a king leading his people that made Ar-Gimilthôn utter those words "a man would rather die than lose the crown his people made him wear" Daeron said as he bows to Ar-Gimilthôn in respect as one monarch to another, the Numenoreans were granted respite in the ports of King's Landing where it was said that they were quite the great tradesmen and craftsworkers, some of them can create great works of steel, gold, and ivory and some can outbarter a jeweller to trade his necklace of silver and emerald for a sack of fishes that even to this day King's Landing, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms still felt its effects as a Numenorean quarter was built on the ports nearby and some of them had left children on women before sailing away.
196 after Aegon's Conquest
Alatar watched as the flames began to fly on the shores of the Crownlands, it has begun, he grimly thought as the screams of women and children were heard. They had always felt the upheaval on these shores since landing with Ar-Gimilthôn, banners of black three-headed dragons and red three-headed dragons flying side by side now clashing and tattering whichever side Eru gave favor to, but Eru and the Valar will never give favor to a family that wed so close to their bloodline.
They were now sailing away from Westeros to the north of Essos where a city called Braavos rests. A representative from the Iron Bank at the court of King Daeron II had approached them and made a proposal concerning their predicament, having heard of their tale at Slaver's bay and at Volantis they seem to have made an impression to the Braavosi as the representative said to present their case to their bank and also to the Sealord who would surely consider their plight, we are landless and on lands that seems to be beyond the touch of Eru and the Valar.
"A grim sight to behold brother" Pallando said as he stood beside him and watched, "we should have said to Ar-Gimilthôn to take this as an opportunity for us and his people" he said as the smoke from a fire began to go farther.
"I doubt his grace would look at it as an opportunity if anything he would say that they the red dragons deserved it for allowing their illegitimate kin to grow and prosper" Alatar remembers when Daemon Blackfyre took aside them and Ar-Gimilthôn in a private manse, proposing that he can give them land with which they could rule independently if they would help him usurp his brother's throne, and what a sight it was to see, Gimilthôn the son of Gimilkhâd grew wroth as he glares at the man.
"You would have me plot and scheme on the shelter of the man who gave me succor and reprieve, to provide downfall to your kin just so you can usurp his crown and home? You can keep your proposal and choke on it!" Pride and honor was the only thing that is left of the Ar-Adûnâim, they have no home and land but still their word was their worth, which is all the currency there is that made them preferable, Alatar thought as he remembers the days they had to lead some of their followers to the southern old Numenorean ports where Ar-Gimilkhâd and his family and their followers prepare for a great expedition to reconquer the south of Middle Earth and reclaim the throne of Gondor for the true Numenorean heirs which is them by the virtue of the line of Tarannon Falastur and Berúthiel.
Who would have thought that they of the line of Berúthiel loathed Sauron more than the Faithful and the Valar, Alatar mused as Ar-Gimilkhâd granted them refuge and place in their ships in exchange for their service in the wars against the servants of the Enemy and also in their quest to take the throne of Gondor in the near future, as much as Ar-Gimilkhâd always voiced his distaste for them as servants of the Valar it was his son, Gimilthôn who proved to be quite open for them, although his beliefs are more on the fact that it will be Eru who will judge him and not Manwë or the other Valar, only Eru himself alone. "Istari! Istari!" came a voice of a boy, Phazân-Palantir, Gimilthôn's son and heir, a bright and promising young boy born of the union of Ar-Gimilthôn and a Tyroshi who was enslaved and brought to Volantis before she was rescued by Gimilthôn and both fell in love and married despite the disagreement of the other Ar-Adûnâim.
"What is it young Phazân?" Alatar asks as the boy smiles then pulls him towards the part of the Palantrist where some of their Variag followers were practicing archery, he points at one of the targets where an arrow was embedded at the center, Pallando looks at it impressed at the boy while even Alatar couldn't help but be of the same reaction also "that is impressive Phazân" he said as the boy grins widely.
"I hit the bullseye Istari! Just as my father did so when he was still a youth, now do you think I can become a ranger to protect our line?" the boy beams as the two Istari both chuckled inside their thoughts, the boy is too innocent and naive to the ways of the world, Alatar thought as he decided to agree with the Phazân.
"Of course young Phazân, you are truly a worthy ranger that can protect the line of Berúthiel" he said as the boy began to accept one of the crewmen's bows and then continue practicing his archery at the watch of the two Istari.
"Istari!" came the commanding voice of the boy's father, Ar-Gimilthôn, clad in the golden plate of old Numenor approaching them with a certain weight and purpose that none of them saw to the Westerosi king and his lords.
"Your grace" Alatar and Pallando slightly bowed to the king of the Ar-Adûnâim, and the rightful successor of Numenor.
"What do you think of the proposal the coin-counters from that city called Braavos put to our table?" Ar-Gimilthôn asks his accent thick at the mention of the name of the city of Braavos, as much as Ar-Gimilthôn didn't like it being blown by the whims of what he could consider as his lessers he still understands the need for negotiations and compromise.
"As much as what the representative told us your grace" Alatar responds as he and Pallando continues to watch the young Phazân-Palantir who shot arrows at the range and judging from the strain he was having it seems the Variags had decided to give him a heavier bow and the boy's struggle in drawing it seem to amuse them albeit respectfully, his father was also looking at him with amusement as well, "we could only assess the whole affair once we are there in Braavos and had talk with their bank and their Sealord" he continues and Ar-Gimilthôn could only nod at that.
"I just hope our travels are at an end, Lyssandra is pregnant again ever since she had given birth to Palantir she was weaken and near death" the king of the Ar-Adûnâim said, "she wanted a sibling for Palantir in memory of her siblings that she lost when she was enslaved" Ar-Gimilthôn sadly looks at Palantir while Pallando decided to tell the king of his diagnosis of the man's wife.
"Your son will have siblings your grace, your wife bears twins" Pallando said as Ar-Gimilthôn's eyes went up at the news.
"Truly?" he asked, voice filled with worry.
"I may not be a good person in authority concerning pregnancies your grace, but I had felt the queen's pulse and instead of two beating hearts, which is hers and the babe it is three beating hearts" Pallando said as for a moment Ar-Gimilthôn's knees buckled, murmuring how impossible it was as before the king of the Ar-Adûnâim could properly respond, the helmsman of their ship, Azrubên approached them with a far eye on his hand.
"My king three ships port and stern side, they bear Blackfyre sails" Azrubên said as he handed the far eye to Ar-Gimilthôn who quickly rushed to the port side of the Palantrist.
"What do these people want now?" Gimilthôn grunts as he decides to call on his men to hail the ship with blasts of trumpets there was also a return hail from the Blackfyre ships but these hail was done through the use of drums, a sound of an attacking ship. When one of the Blackfyre ships was already close in shouting distance its helmsman began to shout at them.
"By order of the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, Daemon Blackfyre, we demand that you stop this ship and give us everything you have for use of a noble purpose to secure the Iron Throne from the pretender Daeron Targaryen!" privateers how quaint, Alatar thought as he looks at Ar-Gimilthôn who grew angry and wroth at the demands made by these Middlemen.
"We are not subjects of the Iron Throne go back to your master empty but alive or face Adûnâim steel and die!" Ar-Gimilthôn warns as everyone on their ship began to ready themselves while a signal from the Gaervinas-class ships surrounding them were sent to pursue battle formations should things get hostile. A Gaervinas-class ship went beside them, marines already at the upper deck with sword and shield and bows at the ready.
The king of the Ar-Adûnâim had his sword and shield at the ready "Istari, should anything happens I want you to make sure that no harm would come to my son" he said as the two Blue Wizards looked at each then at Ar-Gimilthôn nodding in confirmation.
"Subject or not, you do not have any say as we need your valuables for a noble purpose my lord!" came the reply of the helmsman as the crewmen of the Blackfyre ship began to point their bows and crossbows in the direction of the Palantrist.
"Then these talks are over then!" Ar-Gimilthôn shouts as he and some of the crew began to raise their shields and their bows began to fire a hail of arrows before the opposite ship could respond in kind "prepare the corvi!" Gimilthôn shouts as ballistas began to fire corvi on the enemy ship, the device itself doing damage while also preparing the Ar-Adûnâim for boarding the ship opposite them.
"Rally to the king!" came the cry of Pallando as Ar-Gimilthôn and his men let loose a great battle cry before charging the enemy vessel.
"Balakada! Azgarâda! Aznêgan!"
"Hold firm! Stand firm! For Daemon Blackfyre!"
For all the bravado of these privateers in service of the Blackfyres they were no match for the ferocity of the Adûnâim who quickly overwhelmed them, Alatar kept himself behind guarding the young Phazân should the Blackfyre try a counter-board, the third Blackfyre ship had tried to skirmish them but they were quickly met by a nimble Rochros-class ship who forced it further towards the Palantrist "stay close to me young Phazân" Alatar reminds the boy as the second Blackfyre ship decided to board the Palantrist while her crews are busy with the first one "protect the Phazân!" Alatar calls out as a crew of ten began to surround them, a battle cry came from the Blackfyre privateers as they quickly came to their direction.
"Aznêgan!" came the cry from their ranks as they quickly disposed of the Blackfyre boarders throwing some of the men overboard while killing the others, "Börte!" Palantir calls out as he tries to run from Alatar's position, a Variag girl was being pulled by one of the privateers as the chaos of the battle raged.
"Palantir!" came the cry of the Variag girl named Börte and base on the way the little girl calls out the Phazân's name she is a dear friend of him "help me!" she calls out as Phazân-Palantir drew a dagger and tried to rush towards the direction of Börte who is being dragged by the privateer, Alatar quickly stopped the boy before he could do anything foolish, drawing his scimitar and preparing his staff, one of the Blue Istari quickly danced from the upper deck of the Palantrist slashing his scimitar to whichever enemy flesh it meets before finally stopping at the privateer holding Börte.
"Release the girl now!" he cries out as the privateer did so but before the man could react Alatar threw the man overboard with the strength that is not expected of an old man, "come now little one" Alatar said with an outstretched hand to Börte who quickly took it and both of them went to the side of Palantir. The battle had finally ended when they had captured the third Blackfyre ship and its crew had surrendered. Ar-Gimilthôn approaches Alatar and Palantir, his sword bloodied with some specks of blood on his mail coif which he removes revealing his face.
"Son..." Gimilthôn dropped his sword on the ground and opened his arms and the young Phazân quickly rushed to his father enveloping him with an embrace, "we have won Palantir..." the king of the Ar-Adûnâim said as he pushes the boy away, "have you been brave my boy?" Palantir nods at the question as Gimilthôn ruffled his hair proudly smiling at the brave boy.
"I tried to save Börte but the Istari beat me to it!" Palantir said as Gimilthôn looks at Alatar who shrugs.
"I expected much from you brother, you stole a young boy's thunder!" Pallando quips earning a laugh from everyone on the ship at the other Istari's words.
Alatar surely look or pretended to be offended at that "his grace told me to look after his son, and I wouldn't let a young boy come to harm" he said pretending to be offended although there was amusement on his eyes.
"Well at least the boy tried to be a hero, if you didn't beat hm to it Istari" Ar-Gimilthôn said as everyone laughs once more and he raises a hand to make the men quiet, "take what you can from their ships then burn them" he declares as everyone cries their assent as they began to systematically loot Blackfyre ships, scrapping some of the masts as lumber before burning the whole ships to the ground, "it seems we had to sail back on Westerosi shores Istari, Braavos would have to wait once more" the king of the Ar-Adûnâim said as they sail away from the burning ships, leaving the third one's crew on small rowboats.
"It seems we had to your grace" Alatar said, there will be a reckoning to be had after all for Daemon Blackfyre.
On the way to the Redgrass fields
Daemon Blackfyre received a message from his spies in King's Landing the Ar-Adûnâim fleet returned to Westeros once more and had allied themselves to his half-brother, Daeron II Targaryen, the reason being an attempted waylay of their ship by privateers in the service of House Blackfyre, we had just lost whatever advantage we had on the seas with the Ar-Adûnâim allied to my half-brother, Daemon thought as he quickly tore the paper and let it scatter on the wind. He didn't plan on trying to ambush and rob the sailing Adûnâim fleet, he had expressed it on all of the Houses that are aligned to him and are sea-bound to not attack any foreign vessel sailing away Westeros, now one hundred Adûnâim ships are pointing at him like a dagger to his heart.
What's done is done, I suppose, Daemon grimly thought as the large but lean and armored figure of his other half-brother, Aegor the Bittersteel, "is there something wrong brother that you would look this grim?" he asks as Daemon looks at him and then nods.
"Our privateers tried to waylay the Adûnâim fleet as they were sailing away from Westeros now their king, Ar-Gimilthôn had allied himself to Daeron" Aegor grunts at that, "the fools that I commit to sea had made a blunder, instead of reeling fish, they reeled sharks" it was a poor attempt to a jape but still it resulted from Aegor having to give him a harshest laugh, Aegor would be a good Hand if only he didn't approach anything as a battle or as a training ground.
"If it comforts you, your grace the Adûnâim fleet is at the sea, surely they will not fight us here on land" that is where you are wrong dear brother, Daemon thought as he remembers the parade of the Adûnâim when they arrived on King's Landing, every Numenorean soldier stand at attention when Ar-Gimilthôn arrived and followed him when they marched to the Red Keep that reminded Daemon of the famous Ghiscari lockstep legions that he had heard and read so much as a child, precise discipline and rhythm of their feet as they march, if only Daeron had bothered in making it so to his own armies, he saw it also in the eyes of his half-brother and once king, the awe, fear, and admiration of the Adûnâim, Daemon had once tried to get them to ally with them but they seem to have a rigid sense of honor like those of the Northmen.
They were met by the scouts that Aegor and Daemon's eldest son Aegon had sent "we saw them Adûnâim banners with the Targaryen ones your grace" what? The scout points towards the enemy camp and beside the Targaryen banners was the banner of the Adûnâim, a red rune surrounded by seven golden stars on a black field, "they have been preparing for battle, before you arrived your grace, and base on the way they assemble their camp this is not their main one as there are only three hundred of them" the scout finishes his report as Daemon nods to the man.
"Good work soldiers" he said dismissing the scouts before turning to his half-brother, Aegor "we make camp here and send an emissary to the Numenoreans, if they refuse to back out of their support to my half-brother then we will know whether their steel is a match to ours" he declares as everyone went about and made themselves busy in making a camp to settle in before the big battle while also an envoy was dispatched to the Adûnâim in an attempt to either change there side or to at least get them to not even participate in the upcoming battle, but of course his attempts were refused by the Adûnâim, stating that the offense they had done to them are sufficient cause for siding the other side of the kin-strife they find themselves in.
The morning came and Daemon saw that the Adûnâim positioned themselves at a ridge nearby "they must have taken it during the night, disassembled their camp as quickly as they can and then make for the ridge" Aegor deduces as he began to see the silver of the Numenorean steelbows, from the reports of the scouts there were truly three hundred of the Numenoreans positioned at the ridge, but Daemon knew any better, as the high vantage and the anti-cavalry spikes and caltrops positioned in front of them would put them safely from their charge as they unleash a volley of arrows from their position, also the Adûnâim positioned at the ridge looked elite as all of them wore heavily plate armored with their tall winged helms covering their heads, and mail coifs covering their faces, black and gold square shields were slung behind them alongside a quiver while a longsword was strapped on their side.
"We charge over there father and we would die or lose before we even reach King's Landing" Aegon states and even some of their men would agree with him, but if we don't fight here now, we lose a decisive battle against Daeron, Daemon thought as a bark of laughter came from Aegor.
"Your son here might as well be breathing spit instead of fire" loyal, loyal Aegor said as he drew his sword and then points it at the enemy in front of them, "the enemy over there are cowards being armed only with bows, I say we go there and drive them back to their ships while killing some of them and then march to King's Landing" the knights with Aegor cheered in agreement with him at that while Daemon felt that there is something wrong as there are only three hundred of the Adûnâim troops, there are only three hundred of them here, they must be the van of Daeron's army but still this felt wrong.
Before Daemon could give an order, an arrow flew from the side of the Adûnâim and struck Aegor on a slit of his armor in his side "Azgarâda! Aznêgan!" came the battle cry of the Ar-Adûnâim as arrows began to darken the sky.
Daemon raised his shield and then drew Blackfyre "reform to me and lets ride them all down!" he cries out as his cavalry began to hastily assemble creating a line despite the shower of arrows, with a great bellow of horns and trumpets the Blackfyre cavalry began their desperate ride towards the ridge, horses fall and men cry out followed by the sounds of broken bones, Daemon saw his son, bright-eyed Aegon Blackfyre falling to the ground felled by Adûnâim arrows, no! Daemon thought as an arrow pierced his horse head instantly killing it and forcing Daemon to fall from his horse, a spike piercing a slit of his armor on the side, the flower of Westerosi knighthood were slain on the field making the grass red with their blood, "my boy!" he calls out but he knows it was all for naught as he began to crawl away from his position towards the direction of his son.
A knight in his service tries to approach him but was when another volley was launched "Your grace! Aghh!" the knight was still alive although he was hit in the neck by an arrow, the man pulls Daemon Blackfyre from the ground but before he could tell him anything an arrow hit the man's head killing him swiftly, "the red dragons are behind us!" Daemon heard a cry as he could see that the whole battle had turned into a massacre as he began to see that the Adûnâim had began to stop firing their arrows, and then charge towards them with swords and shield in their hands.
"Retreat the battle is lost! The gods old and new have forsaken us!" came the shouts of routing as every officers of their army tried to instill discipline but Daemon knew that all hope is lost, but I will not leave my son's body behind for the carrion to feed into, Daemon tried to reach his son's body but was stopped when he saw the Adûnâim closing in to the bloody, red field.
"Azgarâda! Aznêgan!" came their cry as their lines clash on the scattered Blackfyre army that is now surrounded and struggling to break away at their encirclement, Daemon was met by a shield charge from an Adûnâim armsman, and he struggles to parry the tall man's blows, the Adûnâim is strong in the way he effortlessly blocks and parried his attack and dare Daemon could say that the man looked bored with a final yell Daemon tried to make a desperate swing at the Adûnâim who just strike his neck with his sword pommel forcing him to drop on the ground, I will not die here! He thought as the man loomed over him with his foot planted on Daemon's chest and his sword to his neck, he waited for death but it did not come to him.
After the Battle
Brynden was impressed with the way the Ar-Adûnâim fought, bow, spear, sword, and lance all of them seem to be proficient or was a master of those weapons upon seeing them in battle. He had led an archer contingent on the left flank of the field and at the safety of the Numenorean spears shot any enemy stragglers that tried to break through the envelopment that the Ar-Adûnâim introduced, despite the fact that some of us view the tactics as dishonorable and disgraceful, Brynden thought as he began to hear cheers among the Numenorean ranks as well as their own.
At the front of the parade was Ar-Gimilthôn, the king of the Ar-Adûnâim wearing golden and black armor giving an appearance of splendor and power for a people that are on the move, they are impressive, Brynden observes as he himself felt admiration and respect to the Numenoreans that are arriving to the camp, their elite forces had been essential to this battle, their mighty and impressive steelbows pierce heavy plate and they seem to be good shots to from what Brynden had heard of them through the troops that are with the Adûnâim armsmen during the battle.
"We have captured Daemon Blackfyre!" one of his men shouts as they saw the column riding further to their camp with Daemon Blackfyre being forced to march on foot behind, bound and disgraced, at the head of the arriving column was their king, Ar-Gimilthôn who stood imperiously on a horse followed by his two old wizened advisers wearing blue, Brynden saw him dismount and was handed the ropes of Daemon Blackfyre and then the king of the Ar-Adûnâim dragged him towards the king of Westeros.
Daeron II Targaryen himself was outside of the tent, the king would have fought himself but his advisers thought that the battle was heavily in favor of the Blackfyres as majority of their forces hadn't arrived at the field as the Stormlands and the Reach fought against their own bannermen that decided to support the Blackfyres, if it wasn't for the Ar-Adûnâim forces then the Iron Throne would have to see a Blackfyre sitting on it, Brynden thought as Daeron II Targaryen was presented Daemon Blackfyre who looks at him with pure hate.
"What have I done to you brother? Bastard-born you may be but I treated you fairly, we both break bread and shared wine, I have a mind to appoint you as my Hand, did I do anything wrong?" Daeron asks as Daemon looks at him.
"Spare me your false courtesies dear brother" Daemon sneers which earned him jeers from the whole camp, "you know what you had done to me and to our sister, for the good of the realm so you say, Daenerys is mine and should be mine as you promised as well as how she feels" Daemon declare while his captor had a disgusted look in him as he heard of those words, the Adûnâim probably frown upon marrying close to their bloodlines, Brynden thought as his mind then drifted to Shiera, his seastar.
"It is as I had said so, we had been at war with Dorne long enough the marriage that I secured would ensure of it and would bring Dorne slowly to the Kingdoms" a snort came from Daemon Blackfyre as he shakes himself and the King's guard surrounding Daeron began to go on alert as their king raise his hand to stop them, "halt! I will not be a kinslayer or a forsworn!" he shouts as Blackfyre gives a harsh laugh that comes as a cough.
"You had already been a forsworn brother!" he snarls as he began to stand tall, "I will not be tried and executed like a common criminal! So I shall let the gods decide my fate, I declare a trial by combat!" at Daemon's declaration the whole camp, except for the Numenoreans, rose in uproar as Daeron was surprised while Daemon was taking in the reaction with a smile on his face.
He knows that Daeron would have to assent or lose face in front of the people, Brynden thought as he felt the rain began to pour and everyone looks at Daeron waiting for his response "I accept your declaration for a trial by combat, but such a thing would have to be done tomorrow, either you can choose yourself or some other person to be your champion" the last words were of course just formalities but it seems to Brynden that Daeron had expected it from Daemon, "I will send a maester to your tent, to tend to your wounds dear brother" he sadly said as he went back to his tent followed by his King's guard, while Ar-Gimilthôn handed over Daemon to a man-at-arms before going towards his horse.
Author's note: new story and you could blame me playing Third Age total war: Divide and Conquer mod for M2TW, also this was inspired by TV series and historical events and also the House of Elendil and all of my old fics concerning tribal migrations (ie. House Hellenese and If I have a heart) which I had to delete because I don't know what to do with them but these story here is actually the synthesis of all those trial and error so yeah, I plan for this to be my magnum opus.
So yeah the fic is about the Ar-Adûnâim faction of DaC, as much as they are not canon in the books and the movies since their faction only existed as a political one in old Numenor as they were the followers of Pharazon before he went to Valinor under Sauron's influence and got smite by Eru, in the DaC mod however they are quite the most neutral of all factions and are quite smooth in their backstory for me as I can be both the good and the bad without any impunity in how they would be viewed by the other factions that are completely good or completely evil, make my own story so to speak, and yes this was also the result of my repeated fascination of Numenor and its inhabitants, to its rise and fall so yeah expect that as much as you would like to view the Ar-Adûnâim faction as evil, here on this fic they will do a lot of both good and evil in future chapters also they are not just the only people from Middle-Earth that came to Planetos as the two Istari came to them with their followers from the Variags (no spoilers though!).
Concerning their armor description, I kind of used the art from the Last Alliance DaC submod the Ziggurun order with some adjustments, particularly the mail coifs that goes on their noses, while their shields were those from Rhunnic square shields in the movies since it kind of gives them the identity that these guys might be Numenoreans but they have their own unique culture upon living far south and east of Middle Earth.
So yeah this is my new fic and I hope you will enjoy it!
Criticisms and Praises are appreciated!
Miko 56