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Chapter XL: The broken stag
The election of a new Lord Commander was an interesting process, or at least it sounded like one, the way Maester Aemon described it. First, the men from the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch needed to come to Castle Black. Any man who had taken his vows, whether he had done so forty years prior or only two moons, could pretend to become Lord Commander. Though, usually, they were noble born. Either sentenced lords, volunteers one, or bastards of lords. Daeron knew, from Maester Luwin's teachings, that several Starks had held the position throughout the thousands of years of history, some of them were not even men grown when they were elected. There had been two Lord Commanders in Daeron's lifetime, Lord Arron Qorgyle – a second son who had joined the Watch after a conflict with his sister and lady – and Lord Jeor Mormont. For the rest of the process, once the brothers assembled, they needed to reach one man with at least two thirds of the votes. When there were many candidates, elections could stretch for days or even weeks. Daeron did not know if it was a legend but he had heard the men talk of one election where the brothers took two years to decide.
The process should not take long on this particular occasion, the other castles had already been called to face the threat of the wildlings, a threat that was no more but there was no way they had been made aware. Their orders had been to seal shut their own gates and ride fast to Castle Black with all of their men. Besides, for the election, there were no real candidates beside Ser Alliser, maybe one of the Commanders from the two other castles but even then… The Black brothers knew that Thorne had Daeron's support. It would probably entice them to vote for him, if only to avoid angering the dragon. Not that Daeron would ever mingle in the election but they did not need to know that. Anything to make them chose faster. The fastest they chose, the fastest they could go on a mission to avenge Lord Commander Mormont – an event Daeron wished to be present for and which would give him the opportunity to discover the lands beyond the Wall – and the fastest he could leave to find his family. He was starting to fear that they would reach Meereen before he even left Castle Black.
Thankfully, only three days later the men from the Shadow Tower arrived at the main stronghold of the Night's Watch. They looked ready to fight and were quite surprised when they realised, they would not have to. More so even when they saw the dragon. Rhoynax helped greatly in cooling down the spirits when the Commander from the tower started screaming at Ser Alliser for having called them for naught.
"Who do you think you are? You halfwit traitor knight? Who gave you authority to let the wildlings through? We have died against them, lost good men to them, pushed them back for centuriiiiies…" He had shouted but his voice had morphed into a squeaking sound when the grey and bronze dragon appeared.
"I gave the order." Daeron had indicated with clear amusement. He had then introduced himself and taken time to explain his decision to the men. Afterwards, there had been no more protest at the wildlings' presence. At least no more loud protest, though Daeron could still see the shadow of disapproval in some of the men's gazes. He had anticipated that… If some sworn brothers were former Targaryen loyalists, others had been sent long before, some by the Mad King himself. And there were those here, who hated the mere sight of the three-headed dragon's banner.
...
"Shiera?" Two encounters with the same woman during the same week and in the same place, it was not unheard of, but no less odd.
"Good evening, my Prince." Daeron was a King, and he wondered how she could tell evening from morning in a field of fire and smoke, but he did not get the time to ask the question. "I have seen new things in the fires, maybe this time you can look and see."
Daeron rolled his eyes, the way the red priests made their prophecies had always seemed fantasist at best and mad at worst. Flames were a treacherous thing. Much like clouds, anyone with a little imagination could 'see' things in the fire. Still, he moved close to Shiera Seastar and asked: "What did you see?"
"Interesting symbols, but what I am most interested in is what you see." She replied carefully and Daeron sighed, he had no wish to play this game.
"This is a fire Shiera, there is nothing to see." He commented with a slight touch of annoyance.
"Look!" She ordered. He decided to humour her, if only to get the time to pass quicker.
He stared at the bright yellow and orange flames on the ground. They leaped in voluptuous curve only to be reduced to a mere spark the next second. Fire was a pretty element, when the dragon had been born, he had thought of it as some sort of dance with fancy bright silks. Not much different from the dances in Dorne actually. But he was convinced that fire was only fire, those pretending to see 'things' or the future in the flames were extravagant people with overflowing imagination if they were not completely mad.
Then, was he completely mad? He could swear he was starting to see an injured stag on a field of snow. It was preposterous, if only because a field of snow made of fire does not make any sense. He saw the orange stag trotting toward what was unmistakably the Wall. There, it appeared to bend its front legs and stopped bleeding before morphing into several animals of the North. He saw it change into a bear, a mammoth, a hawk and even a wolf though it was a normal one. His watching was distracted by something on his left, there he saw another scene. In the middle of a miniature version of the Red Keep, a lion cub was walking all over a huge rose, shedding its thorns and destroying it step by step. Daeron thought he knew what that meant, the fate of Margeary Tyrell was not one that he would wish on anyone. But his attention was again brought to something else. Over a large open sea, two dragons were fighting.
"I… I don't understand." He stuttered. He felt Shiera's hand on his shoulder as she looked into the flames with him.
"That is the whole problem of the visions in the flames. R'hllor shows us what he wishes but it is always open to interpretation." She explained. "Not to mention, I cannot see what you saw and you cannot see what I saw. Visions are personal."
"Then, how can the red priests be trusted?" Daeron was highly confused. He remembered the woman who accompanied Stannis Baratheon. He did not believe in the power of the flames but he knew she had seen something in him, something hidden, deep and true.
"They cannot… They are only human, some will exercise caution, some will pass their interpretations of the flames as the truth." Shiera replied. "You met Melisandre of Ashai, didn't you?"
"How do you know?" He was stunned to have her mention the very woman he had just been thinking about.
"She is of the latter sort of priestess. She believes her understanding of what R'hllor shows her to be the truth and she has guided Stannis Baratheon with it for years." She kept going. "She saw the Long Night in the flames and guessed correctly that it would come back and with it, Azor Ahai. But then, she saw Dragonstone and went there, thinking she would meet the Prince there. She met Stannis and has been convinced ever seen, it distorts her reading of the flame but I believe the Lord will send her back on the right path."
"How can you be so sure?" Daeron looked at the Great Bastard.
"I cannot, but when you have been doing this for as long as I have you know things, my Prince." She brushed away a strand of his hair as he tried to understand what she was saying. "We will see each other again, Daeron, in the future. Look at the flames, my Prince, R'hllor is with you." She pushed him as she had done in the two last dreams. It was an uncomfortable end for a dream.
Accompanied by an uncomfortable awakening, Daeron believed Rhoynax's roar had roused all of Castle Black. Alarmed by the sound, he sat up to discover men in his room. Men from the Shadow Tower. They were dressed and armed and looked like they had been caught by the roar in the middle of their actions. They had frozen in fear but from their placement Daeron guessed they were not here to talk. He reached for Dark Sister just as the men launched on him, having recovered their minds. The first blow, he had to parry in his bed, with the sheath still on his sword, so sudden it had been. He tried not too kill the five attackers but being unused to Valyrian Steel, he was not always able to control the strength of his slashes. Two died, one would die soon from the bleeding and the two others would live to be executed.
The black brothers, alerted by the sounds were too late to arrive and Ser Alliser had to shove them aside to get to the King. They were impressed by Daeron's fighting skills, that much was clear. The acting Commander only had too look at them once.
"They rebelled against Aerys before the Rebellion." He said looking at the five. "Prepare the rope for the two who are still alive." He ordered the boys, completely ignoring the one man who was dying next to Daeron's water basin. "Are you alright your Grace?" The knight asked.
Daeron nodded. "I have Rhoynax to thank for that, I believe."
"On behalf of the Night's Watch… I'm sorry." The man looked slightly defeated.
"Ser Alliser, I am not such a fool that I believe all will bent to my will as soon as they see me and my dragons. Assassination attempts are to be expected. I know what my family did to the Realm, it is normal that some would not like the return of Targaryens." Daeron gave the man a tired smile.
...
It was not the hanging of the sworn brothers that disturbed Daeron in the following days. It was the visions in his dream. The lion and the rose was easy to understand, it was not hard to imagine that Joffrey Baratheon would destroy Margeary Tyrell in body and spirit. Especially after he had heard what the little golden monster had done to Sansa. He guessed the little rose was in for a good amount of rape, beating and humiliation with her husband. But according to Sansa, the Tyrells knew what Joffrey was, she had told them herself that Joffrey was a monster. They might have only underestimated him… And Daeron had probably ruined their plans to kill him as well, though unintentionally. He wondered if the Queen of Thorns had another plan. Maybe he should send a message to Varys to know, but he did not fully trust Varys yet and he knew too little of the situation in King's Landing to risk a message.
The two other visions were harder to 'interpret', as Shiera had said. The stag had to be a Baratheon, Stannis was the last of his wife with his daughter, but there were a number of bastards left by the late Robert. It could be any of them, and the animal being wounded could either mean that who it represented was truly wounded or that it is a bastard. Besides why would any of them come from North of the Wall? As for the dragons… Well, he would rather not think about this. Two dragons fighting could not mean anything good for his meeting with Daenerys Targaryen. And above the sea? Was it supposed to be the Narrow sea, or Slavers bay? It could also be some sort of mysterious metaphor from the Lord of Light.
He was taken out of his daydreaming by one blast of the horn from the watchers on the Wall. One blast meant rangers returning but there were no rangers out currently. He did not understand why they would come from the North. Their orders were specific, they needed to come from the South to avoid splitting their forces and being attacked by the enemy alone. Daeron secured his cloak around his shoulders and went on to find Ser Alliser.
"The watchers speak of the men from Eastwatch, and… a flaming stag banner." The man explained uneasily. "We will meet them outside of the tunnel."
"Let me get my crown." Daeron replied, gaze hard and focused.
They waited with a few of the men, Ser Alliser and the old Commander from the Shadow Tower who had decided to drop out of the elections before it even started due to his men's attack on Daeron. The Commander from Eastwatch came with Stannis' delegation, composed of the would-be King, his red priestess and six knights.
"What is the meaning of this Thorne?" The Commander asked, confused.
"The threat is no more. The King helped us to make a peace with the wildlings, or should I say the free folks. They will establish themselves in the Gift. But you have not come for naught, Jeor is dead. We need to elect the new Lord Commander." Ser Alliser explained, the other man seemed ready to protest but Stannis wanted to talk as well.
"You would do well not to keep the company of Usurpers, Ser Alliser." The older man tried to sound confident but Daeron could see him eying his crown and sword with uncertainty. "Though, I would never have thought to qualify you as such Jon Snow."
"I could return the compliment, Usurper Stannis Baratheon." Daeron hissed. "I would like it if you addressed me by my real name. I am Daeron Targaryen, the Third of my Name, son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen."
"Lies." Stannis spat back.
"Prince Doran Martell of Dorne said the same thing, Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell and his late mother as well," – it felt weird to address his cousin as such – "they all changed their minds." At this point he called Rhoynax who soon landed gracefully next to them. The sworn brothers from Eastwatch and the knights backed away in fear. Stannis remained stoic despite a look of panic for a second, but the red woman appeared fascinated.
"No matter who you are…" Stannis was clearly not at ease. "My brother won the Iron Throne by rights of conquest and I am his legal heir. The Throne is mine."
"It is true, then I shall conquer it back. Tell me, my Lord, would you rather I defeat you right now and move on to something else while you lay dead beneath the ground; or you could bend the knee, be reinstalled as Lord of Storm's End and help me defeat those who shamed and betrayed your brother?" Daeron only looked at the Barateon man when he made his offer.
"You cannot hope to defeat King Stannis, young dragon." The red woman intervened. "Bend the knee now, he is the Lord's chosen, Azor Ahai, the Prince who was promised, he will prevail."
"Will he?" Daeron smirked. "Melisandre of Ashai… have you seen the dragon behind me?" He did not wait for an answer. "Judging by the state of your army, I could reduce it to ashes without any help right here and now. You say Stannis is Azor Ahai… why? Because you saw the Long Night and then a vision of Dragonstone in the flames?" He could see her visibly gulp. "And when you arrived on Dragonstone you met Lord Stannis? That does not prove he is the Prince. Let me tell you something, my Lady… another interpretation of the flames you saw if you will… Dragonstone has been the seat of power of Targaryens for centuries, I am the last heir of House Targaryen," he was careful not to mention his son, "Your vision could have meant me, as much as it can mean him."
"That… that is not possible… I am sure!" She stuttered clearly unhinged by the fact that he knew what vision she had had.
"Like you were when you told me I would win at the Black Water?" Maybe her power over Stannis was not that strong after all.
"It is not entirely her fault my Lord." Daeron tempered. "R'hllor only shows visions that are up to human interpretation." He spoke with confidence of something he was not even sure he believed, and he could see the puzzled looks of men on his side. "She only trusted her own mind too much. And I think a man like you should own his mistakes, Lord Stannis. You trusted her too much too…"
The man ignored the last comment. "I will give you one last chance, my Lady, light a fire, look into it and tell me what you see, only what you see." The Usurper demanded with great anger looking at his red advisor.
Daeron heard the shouts of men asking for wood to light a fire and Melisandre's protests. He talked. "Dracarys." Rhoynax created a long and continuous flame. The woman stared into it with fascination.
"I… I see…" She started. "I see a stag on a field of snow. It is bleeding but still standing. And it stands next to a great dragon…" She described pitifully. The flame stopped and Rhoynax flew back to the other side of the Wall.
"My interpretation would be that the Lord of Light would want me to stand with you, Targaryen…" Stannis said.
"Yes, that would be my interpretation as well, your Grace." The red woman confirmed hanging her head low in shame.
"Maybe we should talk then, your Grace." Stannis told Daeron though he noticed that it sounded as if the man was ripping his own tongue out when he said his title.
...
Stannis sat opposite the desk, in front of Daeron in the Lord Commander's solar. The tension in the room was at its highest and thankfully there was no one else with them.
"So, will you bend the knee?" Daeron wanted to speak first to have the upper hand.
There was no admiration, no liking, no warmth in the man's gaze. With each word it was as if he had to make a physical effort to talk to Daeron. "I will, but I have certain conditions."
"Pray tell, though I do not think you are in any position to make them." Daeron rolled his eyes, he had anticipated the man's arrogance.
Stannis glared but did not protest. Maybe he knew his position after all. "Storm's End is not enough, if I help you I want some of the lands of the Reach to go over to the Stormlands. The Tyrells are traitors who married into…" Daeron did not let him finish.
"There are disturbing tales about you Lord Stannis. You burnt people alive for the 'crime' of speaking against you… You sent a dark magic shadow to kill your brother… That would make you a criminal lord and a kinslayer… I thought you were a just and honourable man, if anything." Daeron described threateningly.
"You have no proof, your Grace. And may I remind you I was under the influence of Melisandre…" Stannis tried to justify.
"Was?" Daeron asked mockingly. In truth, he would like to know how Stannis had come to mistrust his red advisor since the Black Water. "Tell me, if someone commits a crime under the influence of another so they escape their sentence what would you do?" The gaze of the man fell. "I should bind you to the Wall, make you take the black for your crimes. I am being merciful by giving you back your lordship. In fact, you should be glad that I am not only a Stark but a Targaryen. If my Uncle Eddard had been in my place, he would have executed you himself."
"Yes, your Grace…" The man admitted defeat, no doubt the mention of the late Lord Stark helped. "May I still make my other demand?"
"You may, I may refuse though."
"I want to execute Melisandre for her role in the catastrophe of my reign." Stannis demanded.
"Let us be honest with each other, Lord Stannis, you never truly reigned…" The man looked away at Daeron's word, his pride was hurt. "If I do not punish you, I cannot punish Melisandre, she might be useful in the future beside. If it should help you, I can have her be away from you until I return." Daeron suggested.
"Return?" Stannis frowned.
"Bend the knee and then we will talk of the next steps." Daeron ordered.
Stannis Baratheon uttered the words of fealty for Daeron well enough for someone so reluctant. Daeron was not so prideful that he wanted the man to be enthusiast, his vows happy or not were all he needed.
"I will leave as soon as Lord Commander Mormont is avenged to join my family and meet my aunt Daenerys in Essos." He started to explain but Stannis already had questions.
"Your family?"
"I married Princess Arianne Martell, we have a son already." He could swear the lord's brows touched his hairline. "Once we come back, the conquest for the Realm will begin, here in the North." He remembered Shiera's second dream.
"Not in Dorne with your goodfamily?" There was a slight mocking tone in his voice.
"Careful there Lord Stannis! I can still change my mind and feed you to Rhoynax." Daeron growled before answering the question. "No, I need to reinstall Robb in the North first." He lied. If he was honest, he had no idea why he needed to begin in the North, he just had a feeling he needed to follow the youngest Great Bastard's indications.
"He is alive?" Stannis seemed surprised.
"I rescued him and Sansa from King's Landing." This was likely to impress the hard man, he looked at him with appreciation for the first time since they met.
"And what will my army and I do while you wander in Essos?"
"I need people to watch over the wildlings, see to their good insertion in the gift. I shall entrust this task to you. You will have to report to Ser Alliser… or rather the new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch once he is elected." As expected, this seemed to annoy Stannis, but he sighed and accepted anyway. This seemed too easy so Daeron added a small threat. "One misstep and he will imprison you, you wouldn't want to join your new god too soon, would you?"
"And how long will you be gone?" The former usurper asked ignoring the threat again.
"Two to three moons I believe, I will leave as soon as we come back from Craster's Keep." Daeron explained.
"Can I come?"
"No, I need you here to begin with the wildlings. I will introduce you to the leaders right away." Daeron told him.
"And can I bring my wife and daughter?" He asked again.
"Of course, your family should be with you and you can take any decision concerning them for yourself. You are not my hostage Lord Stannis, I want us to be allies." Daeron smiled but there was no warmth behind it.
Stannis was not a man he would ever like or enjoy having in his company he realised. He was too rigid, too cold and there was too much history between their families for him to be comfortable in his presence. But having him at his side would help him in his conquest.
...;
The result of the election was no surprise. It had only taken a few hours for the token to be collected and the votes casted. Ser Alliser Thorne had easily become the nine hundred and ninety eighth Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Only the Commander from Eastwatch had tried to challenge him and not even all of his own men had voted for him.
The first order from the Lord Commander was to prepare an expedition of twenty men, led by himself to go to Craster's Keep and avenge his predecessor. They would leave in the morning. Thorne had consented to Daeron coming alone but he had asked that Rhoynax did not accompany them.
"This is something the sworn brother must do with their braveness and their own crude steel." He had explained. He had also asked the King to leave the traitors for him.
In the end, Daeron had accepted everything, but he had also asked that Rhoynax follow them from a few leagues away as he did not like to be apart from her. Thorne agreed.
So now, Daeron was on a horse, in the frozen desert that was North of the Wall. It was much different from the Dornish desert he knew, but in a way, it was the same. They travelled on horseback for miles and miles at hand and crossed no one's path. The weather was extreme, and the days stretched in a continuous succession of the same. Craster's Keep was a fortnight away from Castle Black. Part of the reason why he wanted Rhoynax to follow was because once the battle was done, he did not want to wait another fortnight to mount Rhoynax and rush back to his family in the Narrow Sea or even in Meereen, the way things were going.
I know some of you thought that Stannis would not bent the knee but: he was torn when he had to rebel against the Targaryen and in my opinion, he keeps going even if his cause is lost because of Melisandre. At the minute Melisandre loses hope in his cause, he has no reason to continue, he only feels betrayed. I think he's a reasonable man underneath the fanatism.
Anyway, what did you think of the chapter? What are your expectations for next time?
Next chapter: the events of Craster's Keep.
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