House of dragons

by Xebecs

As

8. 8

Dance of Ice and Fire

schrutfarms

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Summary:

Rickon Stark prepares for the arrival of dragons and contemplates his past.

Daemon assesses the North and Dragon and Wolf come to blows over the future.

Notes:

FYI, Rickon Stark is actually father of Cregan Stark and in this story is Gaemon's uncle.

It has been sometime that I have written this. I'll probably make more edits to work on grammar and add missing pieces.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rickon Stark POV

Shores of White Harbor

"Land Ho!!", the voice of the first mate could be heard as he was bellowing commands from above. Rickon had housed himself in the cabin below. There were three big cabins that were built. One of them would house the captain, the other its lord and the third one would be assigned to special guest. Rickon had given Gaemon the Lord's chamber who the boy had shared along with his father. He woke up from his feathered bed to gaze peak through one of the small windows.

The day was cloudy and the weather was cooler than it had been in the South, but Rickon found it to be warmer compared to Winterfell. From his window, he could get a peek at the oars moving alongside the waves. He could get a sight of grey land at distant. Rickon was not good at distance, but he could guess that they were still leagues away from White Harbor. The lands could possibly belong to House Locke which meant that they should should be arriving to their destination shortly. The winds seemed to be kind enough to carry them well.

Captain Maron of White Harbor had commanded Lyanna's Grace, a galley that Rickon had commissioned Lord Manderly to make. As a boy, he was not much into ship building, but he had to be impressed by work that was done here. His father Benjen had tasked the maester to teach him all about being the Lord of Winterfell. Made of the finest Ironwood supplied by the Forrester through White Knife, the galley had sixty oars at three levels with each level comprised of twenty oars. Shipbuilding and shipwright were one of the topics that the maester discussed which Rickon had found irrelevant. He had not known much of the ships and to his folly he was embarrassed with the work that was done as his ship seemed pale to other galleys from Driftmark and Dragonstone.

When their galley had arrived at the port of Dragonstone, he was in awe at looking at certain galleys that belonged to Targaryen and Velaryon. Dragonstone itself was a stronghold of legends. Winterfell had been built by Brandon the Builder around the Godswood and there was a sense of mystique surrounding it. It was the same feeling that Rickon had felt that he had when his retinue had entered the citadel of Dragonstone.

Daemon Targaryen had been surprised that it was him who had come and not his younger brother Bennard. His decision to go South had been a rather last-minute decision. Bennard had protested this decision, but Rickon would not hear of it. Bennard may have loved his sister Lyanna the most, but Rickon had known her far better than he did. He was oldest son of Benjen Stark and Lyanna was a year younger than him, but it felt upon him to protect her sister.

A task that I failed, Rickon thought ruefully. He had been in the maester's chamber when Lyanna drew her final breath. The fever and delirium had broken her sister and she prayed for Daemon when the life had finally left her. During that time, he could not help but hate the child she bore. It was because of him that he lost her sister, it was because of him that he had lost a friend. It had been Rickon who had suggested to keep her boy's identity to be a secret which his father Benjen had reluctantly agreed for the time being. Everyone in the Winterfell household had seen or interacted with the babe at the time, but not Rickon. At the time, he wondered how long could he ignore the boy. Fate, however, had other plans regarding that matter.

No one had expected the young Daemon Targaryen to fly thousand leagues for Lyanna's sake. During his brief time in capital, he had been made vary of Daemon's reputation. When his sister had confided her feelings regarding the Targaryen prince, he had dismissed it as nothing but a silly infatuation that soiled her for life. They would constantly fight regarding this to a point where during her final months his sister could not stand the sight of him.

When Daemon Targaryen had arrived, they had tried to keep Jon away from him. However, the prince grew ever more suspicious by their behavior and had ultimately discovered the truth. The night was still dark when Rickon had been woken by the loud roar of the dragon. As he walked into the hallway, he saw guards and servant moving around in pandemonium. He immediately had gotten ready to check on the source of disruption. It was when the guard had informed that Daemon Targaryen had left Winterfell on his dragon. A part of him had been relieved, but it was short lived as he had made his way to the Great Hall where his uncle, the-then Lord of Winterfell had told that he had taken Jon and his wetnurse with her.

Since then, Rickon had kept his distance from the South. He would read the letters from Bennard who had decided to stay at King's Landing alongside his nephew. He would hear of how the boy was now named Gaemon and no longer Jon. He would hear of how the Old King and Queen passed and how Daemon Targaryen had been able to annul his marriage with Rhea Royce. Rickon would hear of how the boy had been legitimized as a Targaryen and had been named and had earned the title of the Prince.

They had been invited into his naming ceremony in the capital and Rickon had half a mind to go but it was his father who convinced him to come.

"It is time to mend the wounds of the past boy, the boy is my grandson and the only piece of my daughter. I would rather have him loved in the North than loathed for something he has no fault off" His father had said before leaving for the capital.

However, his father's consoling words had served him no better. Rickon had broken the age long tradition to have his sister's remains to be settled into the crypts much to the vexation of his father and uncle. She was a Stark and she had belonged in the North. It was this bitterness that he carried as their retinue traversed down the Neck and into the capital.

He had not seen the boy when they had arrived in the capital. Rickon could not bear to look at the sight of him, it was a harsh thing to admit but he had always been a stubborn man. Whenever Gaemon would come to visit his father or other lords, Rickon would find ways to excuse himself to speak with merchants and smith in the capital. It was during the actual crowning ceremony that he actually took a look of his nephew.

It was at that particular moment that Rickon had been floored. He had forgotten the resentment and the bitterness that he felt and his eyes were glassy with tears. The boy who was his nephew shared a decent resemblance with his mother, but it was his smile that had made his heart stop. He had her smile and her laugh, Rickon had thought as he saw Gaemon running towards his Targaryen family. It was then when Rickon recalled all the words Bennard had shared in his letters. He tried to recollect all the words that spoke of the child, all his likes, all his dislikes when he made his first attempt to speak to the boy.

Gaemon was unlike his father and did not seem to share the pride and petulance that he possessed. The boy had a curious nature and had genuinely wished to learn more about the North. It was why he had helped navigate through the Royal Library and helped him pick the books that would help him understand the nature of the Northmen. His time at the capital had however been limited but he had grown fond of the boy. The boy had seemed upset on the day of his departure.

When Rickon had arrived at Dragonstone, his nephew had looked different than he had been in the capital. It had seemed that the gloomy and dark Dragonstone had changed his nephew's nature. He had been of far more serious disposition who would rather train himself in sword alongside his father and less on his books. He had become far more serious and gloomier and his long Stark face that resembled his mother would show a scarce smile when around his dragon or the day Princess Rhaenyra had arrived before his departure.

Daemon Targaryen had been another matter differently. There was no love between him and the Targaryen Prince for certain. When he had been summoned in the solar, he had announced his intentions to wage war in Stepstones. He had informed that he would be traveling to Winterfell alongside his son and then from there he wished to visit Moat Cailin to examine the construction.

When they had visited the capital during Gaemon's crowning ceremony, he had seen the construction of the curtain walls almost being completed. The granite stone that had been utilized was pale in coloring. His father had informed that this was the same stone that were used in the construction of the castle at Eyrie and High Tide in Driftmark. The last report they received from Archmaester Vaegon who had arrived from Citadel had suggested that one of the towers that would house the lord would be complete.

--

"My lord" the voice of Captain Marlon had arrived outside of his cabin at late afternoon. Rickon had been at unease for some time as they had approached the land. Food had not agreed with him lately. It had been the same when he had departed the shores of White Harbor.

Much to his disagreement, Gaemon and his father had decided to continue this final stretch of this journey on their dragon.

"The North needs to know that a dragon is arriving in their lands" Prince Daemon had declared.

"They need to know that it is Lyanna's son that is arriving the shores of the North," Rickon had argued, trying to keep his composure against Daemon Targaryen.

"My son is a Targaryen and a dragon rider. He is more than Lyanna's son, he is my son as well Stark" Daemon noted in a sharp tone.

Rickon wanted to further argue further but Gaemon intervened, "Uncle, the realms have declared me a Prince of the North, have they not?"

It seemed like a rhetorical question, but he nodded regardless, "Should they not see their prince as the representation of strength? And what better way to show that than arriving on one of the largest dragons the realm has ever seen. Let the North know that they have a dragon of their own."

"Entered" Rickon commanded in his gruff tone. In the end, he had given up and had the captain move his ship close to a beach by the shores of Manderly lands. Rickon had to admit his nephew's will when he saw the bronze dragon Vermithor land in the shores. It was far larger than his father's mount yet he purred at the sight of his nephew like a little cat. The Targaryen men that had joined the retinue had helped mount the saddles and shortly sometime after the dragons took to sky and disappeared above the clouds.

The captain entered his room, he wore boiled leather and wore a cape. He had long brown hair and had green eyes. There was a smell to the captain that Rickon had disliked, it was smell of the sea the captain had declared. However, Rickon had known better. He carried a bastard sword around his waist that he had claimed to have taken from a Tyroshi pirate while saving a merchant when he had been young man. Now he has reached the age of five and thirty and had served as the captain for five years.

"We shall be arriving White Harbor in a few short moments" the Captain said in his firm tone. He had not been the one with japes.

"Very well, allow myself to get ready, are my men alerted?" Rickon inquired as he wore his cloak.

"Aye, my lord" Captain nodded; the ship swayed a little but Rickon grabbed a hold of the chest.

Rickon acknowledged and then dismissed the captain. He sighed and walked to get his sword. It had been placed in the new leather scabbard he had made after his father had passed away. He was a tall man but Ice was a great sword that almost reached his height, however he carried it with ease. Rickon held his chest high and walked out of his cabin onto the top.

"Raise the sails, ship the oars!!" the command went out as they approached the city of White Harbor. The grey snarling direwolf in the white field could be seen in the sail, though that will change with Gaemon making his own standards, Rickon concurred. His men bowed as they wore boiled leather for their armor with a wolf carved by their chest and wore a round helm. They had long spear on one hand and the ironwood shield on the other.

"Lord Stark" Medrich called out at the front of the hull. Medrich Cassel had been his childhood companion and sparring partner since he was a boy. Medrich wore a grey cape and plated armor with a direwolf carved in the center. Medrich had been made household guard by his father upon his recommendation. His uncle had served before him before but with the age catching up on him, he had decided to resign from his position.

"Medrich, are the men faring well?" Rickon asked.

His captain scoffed at that, "better than when they left the isles of Three Sisters. The lads are excited that they are finally home."

Rickon nodded as he glanced at the men around him seemed to be faring better. The sailors were moving the crates back and there were others who were preparing to wind down and getting the ropes out.

"Hope Manderly doesn't have a bloody feast" Medrich grumbled.

Rickon chuckled, "Manderly is a southerner Medrich and we have two Targaryen princes that are planning on arriving in his court. Do not be surprised if our Warden of the White Knife would want to laurel our young prince with Southern pageantry."

Desmond Manderly had recently taken up the lordship of the White Harbor from his father. He had already building a reputation amongst his vassals for his shrewdness.

"In any case Manderly are not the only one, we need to be varied of, we have Lord's Bolton, Hornwood and Lord Locke are going to be present as well" Rickon muttered as they could spot the fish market by the Outer Harbor. The captain had informed him that they would be boarding at the Inner Harbor as it had better anchorage.

Medrich groaned at that, but Rickon chastised him, "now is not the time to groan and moan about it Medrich." He turned back to see the other two galleys that had joined them from Dragonstone. They had been Gaemon's company from the south, which included his septa, his own personal trainer at arms and a Kingsguard that had been appointed by the bloody king.

He pulled Medrich to the corner and muttered, "These lords will try to curry favor with my nephew and his father going over my authority as their Warden and liege. There is something you need to know."

Medrich gave him a prying look, "Daemon Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon intend to invade Step Stone. War is on the horizon friend and Daemon has intentions to make an appeal to the Manderly's court."

This revelation surprised his friend and made an observation, "so that is why Prince Gaemon has a bleeding Kingsguard in his retinue."

"Aye, though I suspect that the King assigned the Kingsguard without his brothers' knowledge" Rickon mentioned.

The speed of the galley slowed down as they approached the harbor the first mate commanded to raise the oars as they moved past the Outer Harbor and the Seal Rock that housed the Ringfort of weathered stones. He noted the scorpions and spitfire and Manderly men observing the ships from the top of the walls. He took a look at the fish market and the vendors and the smallfolk taking in the arriving ships with glees and wonder.

It was a rare to see Targaryen sails entering White Harbor or North in general. They had whispered and claimed that Daemon Targaryen had flew on Caraxes, but it was not true. The men at the ship threw their ropes and the dock workers took it and tied it to the wooden post. Rickon could see a crowd formed up at a distance and at the head of the crowd, he could spot the banners of Manderly, Bolton, Hornwood and Locke. There were other banners of their vassals also present.

After his nephew had mounted on the dragon, Rickon had sent the word out to Lord Manderly and prepare for their arrival in such manner. The gangplanks were tightened and Rickon led his retinue followed by the Targaryen men that had joined from Dragonstone. He spotted the white cloak of Ser Steffon Darklyn at his right as the knight approached him.

"Lord Stark" the knight called out from his helm. He wore his white armor

"Ser Steffon, must be interesting meeting your kin" they walked towards the welcoming retinue.

The knight merely grunted, "they are naught but strangers to me. Have never known them in my life."

Rickon merely chuckled at that, Theomore Manderly had arranged one of his daughters to wed into their House and Steffon turned to be younger son of their union.

"Well keep that candor up ser, and you shall make a fine job knowing them" Rickon mused and the knight gave out a low chuckle. He was shivering a little, Rickon could notice that.

Rickon arrived in front of the retinue and the Stark and the Targaryen men had numbered around forty.

"Lord Stark" Desmond Manderly bowed. Unlike his father, the late lord Manderly, young Desmond had a sharp look on his face with his brown hair and smiling green eyes. He had a charm of a southerner yet knew well enough to hold himself amongst Umbers and Mountain clan. Normally, whenever the lord of White Harbor would come to Winterfell, he would maintain his emotions masked, but right now he could sense the excitement in features. Same could be said of the other lords' present, even the pale Lord Bolton seemed excited.

"My good Lords, I know your intentions to visit the court of our good lord Manderly here. I wish to inform you that Prince Gaemon and his father Prince Daemon will stay in White Harbor, after which we intend to sail upstream down White Knife and then to Winterfell." Rickon declared, he had no intentions for the lords to meet his nephew right away.

The Lords Hornwood and Locke were mildly disappointed with the announcement, Bolton merely nodded but seemed displeased. Whereas Manderly cleared his throat and looked around at the Targaryen men, especially Ser Steffon and others in his retinue.

"I understand my Lord Stark, forgive me, we had stalls and the pathway cleared, your last raven said that Prince Gaemon and his father would be arriving on their dragons. However, we have had no sightings of them yet" Lord Desmond said in a curious tone.

As if on the mention of Gaemon's name, suddenly winds started to blow faster and at distance they could hear wings flapping. Rickon looked up to catch the location of the source. However, the sky was grey and cloudy and they could spot shadows through the cloud.

One moment there was curious whispers and the other there were screams of fright as a horrible roar was heard through the sky and the clouds made way to a bronze dragon and a smaller red one. The smallfolk screamed in fright, pointing at the dragon and trying to run, but Lord Manderly had done a fine job in recruiting the City watch and maintaining the order.

The two dragons circled in the air flapping their wings and roaring as they descended down to at the open area that Lord Manderly had cleared between the welcoming party at the Harbor and the Seal Gate.

Even now, Rickon was still in awe of the two dragons descending down the ground. Prince Daemon's mount landed first, 'the Blood Wyrm' they call it. The dragon was huge, red and lean mount. He may have been a smaller dragon, but had a fearsome presence in it that exceeded his size. The dragon was growling at the presence of the human present. His nephew's mount was far larger than his fathers' and was giving curious glance at the human present. Smokes were coming out of their nostril as the Blood Wyrm first knelt. Prince Daemon swung of smoothly from his mount without any troubles.

After the Bloodwyrm knelt, Vermithor followed. Prince Gaemon was younger than his father and the distance between the saddle and the ground was longer. However, Prince Gaemon had not waited for his father and was slowly descending. Daemon tried to reach out for his son, but he merely waved his hand of and slowly descended while holding onto the sharp scales. Rickon could not help but admire the bronze dragon's patience as he slowly purred as his rider descended down.

As his nephew's feet touch the ground, he hobbled for a bit, until he caught his father's cloak who held him by his shoulders. Gaemon was wearing black breeches and a dark red tunic, his cloak was grey in color and had his crown fixed on his head. His father was taller than him and wore dark red coat like his son. Both father and son walked with the regality, their posture and way of walking almost seemed identical. Despite Gaemon's Stark hair and his long face, at the moment, none would dare deny that the boy was Daemon Targaryen's son.

As they approached, both the dragons took the air leaving a cloud dust in the ground. Rickon had to cover his eyes as did the other Northern lords present, but both father and son were not affected by it as they walked forth towards the Northern lords with the air of regality. The Manderly and the other lords present bent their knee upon the arrival of the two princes of House Targaryen.

Rickon watched as his nephew looked up at his father who nodded for him to proceed.

"Rise" his nephew said in a tone, he did not realize he had.

The lords rose up and looked at his nephew with wonder and awe which surprised Rickon as he decided to walk forth and stand next to his nephew. His father was on his left and Rickon was on his right as he proceeded to announce. The crowd stood in silent and anticipation as they looked at his nephew with excitement. His nephew was moving his grey and violet eyes around silently assessing the lords and the smallfolk present.

"MY LORDS AND LADIES, GOOD PEOPLE OF THE NORTH, I PRESENT TO YOU PRINCE GAEMON OF THE HOUSE TARGARYEN, RIDER OF VERMITHOR, LORD OF MOAT CAILIN, PRINCE OF THE NORTH!!"

At Rickon's declaration, smallfolk cheered with a loud roar and glee. The chants of Prince of the North and Dragon of the North could be heard throughout the market place and it would be safe to say that the whole bloody White Harbor would be roaring and cheering for his nephew at this present moment.

Daemon POV

"To the Dragons!!" Lord of White Harbor roared. Daemon found him to be a calculating man. Compared to other boorish lord's present, he had the sense of intricacy that Daemon has oft witnessed in the court of King's Landing. Daemon had met his father during the Great Council of 101 and compared to the grandeur and pomposity of his father, he was far more reserved and sterner.

He took his seat to his left, while Rickon Stark was sitting on the other side. The Merman's Court which was the great hall of the New Castle was currently hosting this feast in the honor of him and his son. Compared to the castles in the south, it felt quite plain and farce. That is what House Manderly was after all. He had not been much student of history when it had concerned North, but Gaemon had forced him to listen.

Like Targaryens, the Manderlys were driven from the Reach. He had corrected his son there, while Targaryen were driven to exile which could be easily be considered as self-imposed. The Manderly as his son mentioned were driven away by the then Kings of Reach for their pride had become too much of a folly. Daemon also went on to say that even in exile, the Targaryen had stayed true to their nature in Valyrian customs and had served no one, while Manderly had owed their allegiance to Starks.

While a fool of a lord would not see much into the feast, but Daemon knew better. The Lord's Locke, Bolton and Hornwood had presented themselves to meet his son and more importantly himself. While the Starks were their liege, Daemon's outranked him due to his princely status and the feast was more of means to test Lord Stark and his son.

In other time, Daemon would have welcomed such efforts, but Starks were his son's kin and at this point he could not afford such issues while his son was establishing his self in the North.

He took a look at his son, who seemed to be conversing with one of the young boys probably some son of a vassal lord. Daemon could feel the heaviness in his heart as he had known that he would be departing away from him soon. Initially, he had intended to part from his son while at White Harbor, but he delayed that and told him that he would be joining them North as they would arrive at Winterfell much to Rickon Stark's disdain.

Rickon Stark was a man who seemed intent on hating Daemon far more than he hated him. He might have disliked Bennard Stark but at least Daemon had tolerated him. It was becoming hard for Daemon to skewer the broad-shouldered cunt with Dark Sister. Lyanna had told him that while Bennard had been her companion, Rickon had been her true brother. Always looking out for her and protecting her. He had sensed the frigidity towards his son initially when he had arrived at the capital during his crowning ceremony. However, that had seemed to have dissipated as he had seemed far more interested in getting to know his nephew.

Throughout their sail, they had planned out his son's time in the North. He was to be fostered first in Winterfell for two years to get to know the Lords in the North and the court and other two alongside Lord Dustin of Barrowtown who would guide him in getting acquainted with the lands he is to rule and the vassals that he would hold.

"Kepa" his son tugged on his sleeves. At that Daemon, realized that he had been not eaten much of his food and had only held onto the wine. He turned to glance at his son who had a curious look on his face, something that had resembled himself.

Daemon mustered a smile and asked, "What is it Gaems?"

"Why are you not eating?" Gaemon asked in Valyrian.

Daemon chuckled, "Not hungry"

"Food is good though" His son insisted and he could see that his son had built quite an appetite for the Northern food. His son was pointing out at the honeyed chicken and glazed lamprey pie. The spices surely had a different taste here, Daemon noted. There was a sadness in his son's tone that he had not missed. He had known for some time now that the day he would be parting with his son is approaching in short time.

Daemon chuckled and cut a piece of honeyed chicken and gave it to placed it in his son's plate, "Then you have it, maybe it will help you grow some bones to carry a sword" as he messed with his hair.

Gaemon huffed and haughtily said, "the boys in the Dragonstone could tell a different story based on the beating I gave."

Daemon raised his brow, "and what if I tell you that I paid them to make you look better?"

At that Gaemon swiftly turned his head to him with his mismatched eyes narrowed, "you wouldn't?" he whispered.

Daemon chuckled, "mayhap I would, mayhap I wouldn't, why don't you ask yourself this Gaems?"

His son stayed quiet for a few moments and tried to contemplate his words as Daemon observed him.

After few moments, he turned and smirked, "if you would have paid them then they wouldn't have been giving me bruises while training. They would have easily given up against me."

Daemon was impressed, "hmm a good point, but you also need to understand something son. If you give someone a bag of coin they have not seen, they would be tempted to use it all quickly. Tell me, did you see anything in their possession that seemed too expensive for them to buy?"

Gaemon furrowed his brows, "but, if they brought something expensive, wouldn't they hide it from others?"

At the background, the minstrel was singing another Northern tune, it was a rather sad song than the previously cheery Bear and the Maiden Fair.

"Some men would hide it; others would show it for the world to see. When you become a lord and rule your lands remember which is which and it will serve you well." Daemon said gently, he turned to a raucous laughter amongst the lower table. One of the Northmen was banging his chest while other was holding a giggling made.

Daemon merely shook his head, Savages, Daemon pondered. The Targaryen men were enjoying the feast as well, but compared to the Northern party they were rather quiet.

His son's quiet voice made Daemon turn towards him, "but how would I know that kepa?" he said in Valyrian.

Daemon placed a hand on his shoulder, he was slouching, "you will learn my son."

He made his son look up and turned his gaze towards the crowded feast and went close to his ears, "look at them, look at their eyes. Listen to their words, sense their emotions. A proud man would want to show his pride to the world, sense their excitement."

Gaemon was staring at the men and contemplating his words, "this is not something that could be learned easily, it took me years in court and my time in the streets and taverns of Flea Bottom to understand it. Your subjects might be far less subtle than those to show their intentions."

It was as if at that, the North men who were laughing got into a brawl of sorts which involved pushing and shoving.

"Are you going to address the court regarding the war in Step Stones?" Gaemon inquired in Valyrian so that others could not understand the words.

"I intend to" Daemon said, as the Manderly soldiers came forth to separate the fighting men.

After the humiliation, he had suffered at the capital by the hand of his brother. He had been rearing to make a name for himself somewhere. Sea Snake, pestering as he was had given him that opportunity. The Three whores had made an enemy out of the Seven Kingdoms with their woefully high taxes and demands. Daemon had considered the implications, with him on Caraxes and Sea Snake and his ships, the realms would certainly see him as a savior.

However, the bitter part of that was parting with his son. Had it not been for Corlys's proposition, Daemon would have remained in the North and traveled in the Vale to maintain his influence. The war changed the circumstances, he could not keep his son in Dragonstone and Viserys had ensured that King's Landing would be unwelcomed. North was the only place that could ensure his son's security while he was waging war. The frozen wasteland was far too big and far too empty, but the Starks were well loved and far more loyal bannerman than any others in the realm.

"So, Prince Daemon" Lord Desmond called him out. Daemon turned to look at the Lord of White Harbor. He was twirling his finger over the wine glass.

"I hear, you intend to answer the three daughters' down at Step Stones with Fire and Blood? Is that true?" Desmond inquired.

Daemon scoffed, "I believe you already have the answer to that question, my Lord."

Lord Desmond Manderly stopped his twirling and turned his head towards Daemon and grinned, "Aye, I have some in South who has been telling me such. Do you believe you could win?"

Daemon narrowed his eyes, "you saw Caraxes outside my Lord, do you truly think there could be any doubt of it after that?"

A voice on his side must have heard it, "Dragons are one thing my prince, men, completely another." He turned to look at RIckon Stark who averted his gaze after catching his attention, "I may not be strong in my history, but I heard of how it took only one bolt from a Myrish crossbow to end your Uncle Prince Aemon's life."

Daemon frowned and was about to reply, but Gaemon beat him, "Kepa is far better than to die by the hands of a coward."

The ferocity in his son's voice seemed to amuse those sitting in the table. Rickon stared at his nephew, "Your father would be a fool to think if he won't die by the hands of a coward boy."

Before his son could retort back, Daemon placed his hand on his son's shoulders, "it's alright Gaemon." With that he turned towards the Stark lord, "if you think me a fool enough to die by the hands of a coward, then you truly do not know me Stark."

Rickon angry gulped down his wine and slammed the glass down, "Aye, but my sister did. The fat load of good did that to her." He abruptly stood up and began leaving, the men at the lower tables noted that as they stopped talking and stared at the Lord of Winterfell.

Daemon glared at Lyanna's brother who noted the quiet that befell the feast, "Forgive me good men, I'm afraid the wine was bit too much. Enjoy the feast, while I make water and puke my guts out eh!!"

At that the men started laughing and returned back to their revelries. He turned to look at his son who was alarmed by Rickon Stark's behavior.

He certainly needed to have words with the Lord of Winterfell, maybe even maim him a bit for his fucking insolence.

--

The night was dark, sleep could not come to him quickly. After Stark had left, he had made an announcement of his intention to wage war in Step Stones. The response was mostly met with either cheer or indifference. Desmond Manderly, Locke and Bolton were willing to pledge men as they had held no love for the Tyrosh pirates and slavers who had grown bolder. Manderly was even further impacted as the cost of trading with Free Cities had gone up ever since the Three whores had gained domain over Step Stones.

A knock on the door made him stand up, he was wearing his clothing from the feast. He opened the door and it was the man who Daemon wanted to speak with was not there. Instead, it was his pesky friend who would throw disdainful look at Daemon. He had a hard time recalling his name.

"Ser Aldrich?" Daemon inquired.

"Ser Medrich Cassel, my prince" the knight corrected.

"I was expecting someone else," Daemon gritted his teeth.

"My Lord Stark begs your audience in the training yard, he feels that the nature of your conversation might be more suitable on those grounds, don't you think?" Ser Medrich croaked.

Daemon understood what he was trying to say, he nodded and picked up his sheath and wore it around his waist.

He silently followed Ser Medrich out. Daemon had commanded his men to remain back in the castle. There would be fight Daemon was certain, but Stark would be a fool to see him killed. Ser Medrich had seemed to agree with that assessment as well. The training yard in question was near the posterior wall of New Castle. The Manderly men were not present there, it was mostly Stark men.

Daemon pondered on whether he should have brought his own men. Ser Medrich stood at the entryway of the training yard. Daemon spied the Rickon Stark sitting in a bench under a tree, polishing the monstrosity that was Ice quietly.

He walked with vigor towards the lord of Winterfell, "you certainly have got an insolent mouth in you, don't you Stark?" Daemon snarled like a dragon.

Rickon Stark was not paying attention to him, it was grating on Daemon's nerve that the man was ignoring him. He may have been older than him, but he was treating Daemon as a pouty child.

Stark put the oiled cloth down and turned to gaze at Daemon. His grey eyes that represented the ice in him show was now blazed with fury.

"I am far more than some insolent fool you think me to be Prince Daemon" Rickon growled.

At that Daemon unsheathed Dark Sister from his scabbard, "come show me then Stark, let Ice and Dark Sister sing this night."

Rickon let out a snort and stood up and placed Ice at the side, "If I used Ice this night my prince, I fret that my nephew would end up without a father and I would be branded a traitor for killing a prince."

He removed the gloves from his hand and pointed at Dark Sister, "no I don't think I need a sword to show that you are naught but a pouty child with that needle pin of a sword and a dragon on his back."

Daemon glared at the Lord of Winterfell as he unbuttoned his coat and let himself loose until he only had his leather breeches and a loose white tunic.

He sheathed Dark Sister back into his scabbard and loosened the belt from his waist. He turned to gaze at the stone-faced Stark men, "you think yourself wise enough to teach me a lesson Stark? Is that it?

He removed his cloak and then unbuttoned his coat and placed it on the side alongside Dark Sister.

"Just know this Stark, when you lie in the ground in your blood. Know that you asked for it" Daemon moved towards the middle of the training yard.

As a boy, Daemon had learned the fundamentals of wrestling. Though, he had not perfected it, he had been quick enough to outmatch bigger man than him. Rickon Stark was certainly far bulkier and stronger than Daemon, but Daemon knew enough to face him.

They both crouched and stared at each other with anger. Daemon roared and grappled Rickon, Daemon was using his strength to push him back, but Stark quickly outmaneuver him and went behind his back. Before Stark could lift him up and throw him down, Daemon pressed his head back to Rickon's face and got free of him.

There was blood coming out of his nose, it was not enough but still visible enough. Rickon brought his hand to his nose clean of the blood and smirked, "that is not so honorable move from a Targaryen Prince."

Daemon panted a bit, "are you going to be the one to tell the world Stark?"

Rickon chuckled and shook his head, "it won't be me Targaryen."

He roared and they wrestled again, this time Rickon was quick enough to lift Daemon and bring him down. Daemon groaned in pain, his back was certainly affected, but was aware of the elbow that Rickon was going to bring down upon him as he moved. Daemon went behind Stark and brought his arms around his neck. It was a move that his father had taught him, something that would put your opponent to sleep, his father had said.

"You are mad that Lyanna chose to fall in love with me, is that it huh?" Daemon muttered as he was holding the Stark lord down with his complete strength. He was grunting and struggling, "don't you fucking say her name." He led a rasping voice out.

"Then answer my question, why do you hate me? I am not a fool to not notice that you had disliked my son before his crowning" he said in a forceful tone, still struggling. Daemon, though, could sense his strength fading.

Turns out he was wrong, as Rickon Stark stood up and Daemon was pushed back. His face was red and his breathing was hard, but Daemon felt Stark's hand on his arms as he grunted and lifted it from his neck with strength.

Suddenly Daemon was on his back, as Stark broke through his lock. He quickly brought his hand up before he could punch him.

"Where were you Daemon?" His punches were getting harder and Daemon was successful in blocking his attack.

"Where were you when she was drawing her last breath hmm?" Rickon was landing blows and Daemon finally moved away from Stark. However, he was onto him before Daemon could make any other move.

There was a lull for a moment, Daemon noted his beet red face, his labored bleeding and his bloodied nose. However, he looked like a bloody raging bull.

"You know what her final words were Targaryen" Daemon was panting as he saw the Stark trying to circle him. His gaze never left the wolf.

"She was calling out your name Daemon, where were you Prince?"

"Where were the plots and promises that you had given to my sister hmm"

Daemon roared and plunged onto Rickon Stark, they both were roaring in the ground trying to get better of each other, "my sister trusted you"

Daemon punched him, Rickon blocked the second blow and delivered a punch of his own and pushed Daemon sideways.

Rage was filling Daemon's visions as he snarled as Rickon continued, tears were coming out from the man, "my sister loved you, did that not mean anything to you?"

Daemon blocked the oncoming punch and landed a kick into his guts and punched his face again, "you dare question my love for Lyanna?" Daemon said in a low tone while breathing hard.

"YOU FUCKING DARE?"

Daemon kicked the Stark lord again, "I am the one who dreams of her every night, I am the one who lives with the guilt of failing her."

Rickon tried to move away, but Daemon pushed him down, "I am the one who lived to see her smile. I was the one who was ready to screw over my grandfather and abandon my titles of a prince."

At that Rickon's eyes widened, Daemon did not realize that he was tearing up as well. It was a secret that he had shared with no one, not even Gael. He had plans to settle alongside Lyanna in Free Cities, the plan had been more of a last resort, but unlike his aunt Saera, his grandfather would have had to acquiesce to his wishes as he had Dark Sister and Caraxes as a dragon. Daemon initially plotted to have his grandfather annul his marriage with the Bronze Bitch at the time, but after her passing he had abandoned it. He had been broken upon hearing the news.

"I am the one who was willing to give her son his name and his rightful due, while you were planning on having him hid as a bastard" Daemon shouted out.

They struggled for a bit and finally separated from each other, both were bloodied, "I loved Lyanna in a way you will never understand Stark, so don't you bloody question my love for her."

Daemon turned his back to Stark and sat at the bench with his hand held on his hand and was crying.

He could hear movement and Rickon slowly approaching towards him, he groaned in pain as he seated, "I did not know that" he said quietly.

"Why would you know hmm? It's not like I shared this with anyone else." Daemon scoffed at that.

He turned to look at Rickon Stark who was quietly contemplating at the words spoken as Daemon continued, "Gaemon is all that is left of her Stark, I will not fail him as I failed her."

He turned to glare at the Stark lord, "do you intend to stand with me or against me on that Stark? Speak your piece."

Rickon sighed and let out a breath, "At first, I had wanted naught to do with your son and you. However, the boy has far too much of Lyanna for me to dislike him."

The Stark lord stood up and picked his coat up and wore it, "I do not like you, Prince Daemon. I will not lie about that to you, but I trust you when you say that you have Gaemon's best interest in mind."

Daemon let out a pained grimace as he stood up and sized Rickon Stark up. Unlike before, where the man's face was a block of ice. Daemon could sense that the words he spoke were truthful. Rickon was taller than him and he could still sense dislike in his gaze, but there was a sense of respect in his eyes that was not there before. "I don't know you Stark, and I don't care whether you like me or not. What reassurances will you give me that my son will not be the bearing my brunt of your hatred?"

"Because contrary to what you think, I see far more of his mother in him than I see you. I see a boy that has the potential of being far better than his father. I will see to it that he lives up to that potential. That is my word to you." Rickon removed a small knife by his coat and sliced his hand. "That is my blood oath to you as Gaemon is my blood and neither me nor my kin would see him wronged."

Rickon Stark pushed hilt of the knife towards Daemon. Daemon took it and did the same as he cut his hand and shook Rickon Stark's hand. There was no likeness between both but a sense of understanding, this blood oath had represented just that. It was at that point, the pact between Dragon and Wolf was made, something Daemon felt would impact the future of both of their Houses.

Notes:

Initially I wanted to add a Gaemon POV in this chapter, however the next chapter will be more Gaemon centric. As a matter of fact, chapters in future will be more oriented around Gaemon.