Dance of Ice and Fire
schrutfarms
Chapter 12: Chapter 12
Summary:
Gael assesses the court of the Red Keep and has a conversation with a King.
Daemon extracts vengeance and obtains a gift.
Notes:
Would have wished to publish this sooner, but life happened and well here it is now.
My computer has been real shoddy so I might be constantly updating work accordingly.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Gael
Red Keep, King's Landing – 112 AC
She looked at the singer in his sweet voice talking about the glory of her father. The singer had a comely face to look upon. His brown hair was cropped and well cut and he wore a grey coat with the lining of silk. One could even confuse him with a nobleman. Gael turned her gaze around the royal balcony to see the other present. She was seated in between her family. To her left laid Rhaenyra who was sitting alongside her ladies-in-waiting and listening to the singing with intent. Her soft purple eyes were narrowed at the singer.
Time had turned Rhaenyra into a beautiful woman. The Realm's Delight they call her now. She wore a black gown of silk with golden Myrish lace bordered over her shoulder going up to her chest. Her silver-gold hair was open and fell to her waist while her porcelain skin glowed brightly. Her sworn shield loomed over her like a shadow watching over any threats that would come to her. Ser Criston Cole was a rather comely knight and one who was completely dedicated to Rhaenyra.
"Ser Criston is sworn to protect Princess Rhaenyra, but who will protect the Princess from him."
Those were the words that the maid in her service had once whispered. Those were the words that were spoken by Alicent. Gael had seen the looks that Cole would share with Rhaenyra. It had been the same lingering looks other men at court would pass ever since Rhaenyra had bled. At times, she had even witnessed the lustful gazes passed towards Alyssa.
Her attention shifted towards her right as he heard a sniffle coming from the right. The tunes of the harp emanated a sadness out, that made maids weep. Gael had to scoff at the notion. There was a time when she would have been like those weeping maids as a child. She would have been swooned over by the sweet voice of the singer or the sadness strumming from the strings. Yet ever since Lyanna had introduced her Northern bluntness, that girl had bled away into the remnants of the past.
Gael remembered the time that Lyanna made her laugh so hard with her jape that it almost broke the focus of the singer that was at the court. It had become an embarrassing moment that had now brought a fond smile upon her face.
It had been the end of summer and the spring had rounded King's Landing. Lyanna was forced to sit alongside her mother and herself. Gael had been nervous to be around the she-wolf for she was far too fierce and intimidating to her liking.
Yet she came up to her and whispered, "he sings as if he is about to fart out loud."
At that Gael observed the singer again and realized she was speaking the truth. Gael turned to look at Lyanna who had a smirk upon her face. She made a mocking fart expression which made Gael shriek in delight.
She had genuinely missed Lyanna at these times. The court of Red Keep was boiling in tension and Gael had been doing her best to keep good faith. All of this had started when Lord Otto had a grandson of his blood and became overkeen to push his claim over Rhaenyra.
"The call of the council set at 101 AC had set a precedent sire. Princess Rhaenyra served well as the heir, but with Aegon born. It is clear on who the heir to the Iron Throne should be," Lord Otto had reasoned. He was pretty nonchalant in his explanation not caring about the glare that she was throwing at him. They were present in the Small Council chamber. Viserys had been glaring at him for quite a while listening to his words. The others present were not raising any objections. Lord Lyman had only bothered to speak when it was about the coin. Grandmaester Runciter seemed to agree with Lord Otto. Even Lord Lyonel Strong who had served the realm capably as Master of Laws was mum. Gael could tell that he was looking to see how the King would react.
"The precedent you claim my Lord was based on the fact that my father King Jaehaerys had not chosen his heir. This is not the case here, my nephew Viserys has made it clear that Rhaenyra has been chosen as his heir," Gael flared her nose. Gael could sense the irritation upon his gaze when she mentioned that. While the Lord Hand had been respectful and paid Gael courtesy deserving of her station. However, in truth, he had never appreciated the counsel and the influence she had held over Viserys.
The Lord Hand tried to ignore her words and appealed to Viserys again and with more fervor. Until finally Viserys had heard enough.
"Ever since Aegon had taken his breath, you have been up my hide pushing forth his claim. You had even your daughter, my wife pushes upon and try to sway me. Tell me, my lord, are you a fool?"
It was a rhetorical question, but Otto was taken aback by her nephew's rage, "Your Grace…".
"No, my Lord Hand, you have been called Lord Otto by many here because of that badge you wear," Viserys pointed at the badge of the Hand that he had worn. "Yet, it has been made clear to me that your task has been to question my judgment at every point and cast doubt over my decree."
What her nephew had done next had indeed surprised her. He had always been someone who had refused to conflict with others and prevented at any cost. Though by making Otto Hightower surrender the position of Hand, he had proved that he had the will to make the hard choices when needed.
Once he dismissed Otto, he gave the position to Lord Lyonel Strong saying, "maybe this Hand would not haggle me regarding my choice of heir."
Since then, Alicent had borne resentment towards Rhaenyra and Rhaenyra had disliked Alicent and those serving her. The ones that called themselves "Queen's Party" in particular.
The song and the music finally came to an end and that broke the chain of thoughts. Gael glanced as she heard a sudden intake of breath next to her. She had to smile at the sight of Alyssa groaning sleepily. Her daughter had reminded of Lyanna to an extent, she preferred riding and hawking rather than sewing and singing. Though she loved nothing more than to mount Tyraxes and claim the skies to herself. It was one of the reasons why she and Laena Velaryon were close to each other. Whenever Alyssa would visit Dragonstone, Lady Laena would be her constant companion there. They would race in the skies in their dragon in delight.
Alyssa woke up and glanced at a smirking Gael, "is it done?" her daughter murmured.
Gael nodded smiling gently caressing her hair, "I think our poor singer was offended by a sleeping princess."
Her daughter snorted at that notion as she adjusted herself to an upright position. Unlike Rhaenyra, she did not need pleasantry that any other Lady would appreciate.
"Others might care about the sweetness of the voice; I care about the meaning behind it," said Alyssa in a determined tone.
The words like that made Gael proud of her daughter, she was a growing child but she had learned the importance of knowing the meaning behind words. Teaching that was passed upon to Gael by Lyanna.
"A splendid performance," the King exclaimed. Gael looked at Viserys as he proclaimed from the Iron Throne. He had a wide smile set upon his face as he cherished another performance. Ever since Viserys had sat upon the throne, he had hosted feasts and tourneys and had lavished gold, offices, and honor on their favorites. Many had visited the court to earn gold and curry favors throughout the realm.
The time on the throne was making his nephew soft and plump, especially after the wedding Alicent. Gael glanced at her nephew slowly descending the treacherous steps of the Iron Throne. He wore a red tunic with an elegant work of a three-headed dragon sewn in golden laces. His hand glittered in rings while The Conqueror's crown rested upon his head. His hair was cropped short and silver-gold while his purple gaze looked at the singer jovially.
He walked towards the singer and the harpist who had bowed their heads not looking upon Viserys. Ser Harrold Westerling and Ser Arryk Cargyll followed her nephew behind him.
"The tale of my grandfather, from the time he took the crown from The Cruel to the time when he defended Stormland from Dornish fleet. The glory and the reconciliation that is what my grandfather brought to Westeros and your sweet words and strings of the harp portray just that here," Viserys declared, "Ten silver stags for each of you and my gratitude for your capabilities today and my thanks to Lord Ambrose," Viserys turned towards the lord in question who bowed in acknowledgment.
"You honor me, your grace. I merely had wished to bring this to honor you and the First Lady her grace Queen Alicent for your upcoming wedding anniversary," Lord Ambrose said proudly.
Gael noticed Rhaenyra flaring her nose in annoyance as Lord Ambrose proclaimed Alicent to be the First Lady of the Realm. There was a time when even Gael had been declared as such. It had been a short period between Aemma's passing and Alicent wedding Viserys and being crowned a Queen. This divide had been growing for a year now. Many had even proclaimed Rhaenyra as such as well.
"Yes, yes" Viserys agreed as he turned towards the royal balcony where Alicent was seated. The children born from Alicent were also seated alongside their mother.
"Alicent has been one of my joys in these past years and to celebrate our anniversary, I hereby declare a great tourney be held," Viserys announced and that earned cheers and jubilations from the crowd present.
"Not another one," Alyssa groaned. She had loathed being in the tourney and more importantly, she had hated being dressed in a silk gown. Rhaenyra heard Alyssa's anguish and merely chuckled, "come now Alyssa, it is the only time my father's beloved wife finds herself to be relevant."
Alyssa grinned at the mockery; Gael wanted to chide in to stop Rhaenyra. Thankfully Alicent had seemed oblivious to the comments made. The court soon after ended with Viserys commanding Grandmaester Mellos to send the raven throughout the realm inviting Houses throughout the realms of Westeros into King's Landing.
Rhaenyra was surrounded by Strong sisters and Alyssa who were chatting along. Gael noted that Alicent making her way towards Rhaenyra. Gael paid no heed to it as she carried on talking with Ann Stokesworth who had become her lady-in-waiting. She was youthful in two-and-twenty and had been widowed as her husband had passed away down in Stepstones three years ago.
"Lord Jasper has been vying for you dear Ann, just so you know," Gael whispered in her ears. Ann looked at her bewildered and then her surprise turned to a devious grin, "Is that so? I will be what? His third or fourth wife?"
"Mayhap the fourth, not sure how many?" Gael retorted back.
Though widowed, Ann Stokesworth had been still beautiful in court, but more importantly, she had been an outcast even in her family. She had arrived at court pleading for Viserys's support over her family who had been set on driving her away. Gael had seen to it that she had a place in her in the court. Ann had been eternally grateful to Gael for her support and in return, she had been loyal to Gael which was what she needed.
"Mayhap you ought to worry for yourself Princess," Ann quipped as she wrapped her arm around her. They looked at the Small Council that was presently hovering around the Iron Throne.
"I hear that a certain Harwin Strong has been taken by the beauty of the Winter Child," Ann whispered conspiratorially. Gael turned towards Ann who was smirking and then towards Harwin Strong who was wearing his City Watch Armor and cloak that had was dyed in gold. He was a huge man who was two and twenty in age.
Ever since Baelon's passing Gael had not taken any interest in being courted by any admirers. There have been many in King's Landing who had wanted Gael's hand in marriage. She was a Targaryen Princess after all and more importantly a dragon rider at that. Though she had oft politely rejected their hand and any attempt to court. It was not that Gael was averse to men or their efforts.
In truth, her family had mattered to her more than she desired to be courted as a dreamy girl.
"It matters not, Ser Harwin maybe taken by who I am but like any other men, he will be bound to lose his interest soon," Gael retorted flippantly. Her attention finally turned to Rhaenyra and Alicent. Unlike Gael and Ann, their conversation was filled with lies and false smiles, and affections. Alyssa was merely looking at them with disinterest.
Their talk broke and Gael could note the disdainful look that Rhaenyra was throwing towards her stepmother whose back was to her. It was best to speak to her since she had been named as the heir to Iron Throne, Gael had taken to counsel her in matters of court. At times, Rhaenyra had welcomed it but in other times Gael could tell that her counsel had not been welcomed.
"I shall be back," Gael excused herself from Ann and walked towards Rhaenyra.
Before she could reach her niece, Ser Arryk interrupted her, "begging your pardon, Princess." He called Gael out.
Gael turned to look at the knight who bowed his head in respect. "What is it Ser Arryk? I had thought that you would be guarding his Grace now?"
"His grace has sent me, he wishes to speak to you in his solar," Ser Arryk said.
Gael frowned and looked at her daughter and grandniece talking. A part within her wanted to learn what was spoken between Alicent and Rhaenyra. She shook her head; she will learn it from Alyssa or mayhap even a servant.
She turned to Ser Arryk, "very well, lead on Ser."
Gael followed the knight, she glimpsed Alyssa looking at her but did not seem to care to reach out to her.
They walked out from the Great Hall; Gael could see the sun beating down upon the pale red stone. The skies were clear with ships docked at the distance. She glanced at the massive curtain walls with nests and crenelation for archers. The serpentine steps of the Red Keep have always been a strenuous climb for Gael yet she had welcomed it. The drawbridge to Maegor had been open as Gael noted that the guards looking at them without any emotions.
A part of Gael had wanted to inquire why her nephew had summoned her but she guarded her tongue. Finally, they arrived at the King's solar on the top floor. She noted Lord Commander Ser Harrold stationed outside the door in a guarded position. He glimpsed Gael approaching alongside Ser Arryk and acknowledged them.
"Princess Gael," the knight regarded her as he knelt.
Gael gave him a warm smile; Ser Harrold had always been a symbol of chivalry. She had reminded her of Old Ryam Redwyne that had passed away seven years ago.
"Rise ser, please inform my nephew that I am here as he summoned," Gael commanded.
Lord Commander nodded and went into the room and a moment after he came out signaling Gael to follow.
As she entered the solar, she noted Viserys seated in his chair not paying attention to the incoming Gael and Ser Harrold.
Gael narrowed her eyes as she noticed Viserys caressing a wooden caricature of a dragon. It was painted coal black with small red dots pointing out, "Leave us, Ser Harrold," Viserys said not looking at the knight.
She turned to look at Ser Harrold who bowed to the King and then to her and then left the room closing the door to his solar. It was now just Gael and the King. She remembered these solar well enough. The furniture and the Myrish carpet had not been there at the time when her father was the King.
Gael noted at the caricature and realized that it was a toy, "does that belong to Aemond?" she inquired politely. The carvings were that of
Viserys chuckled and placed the toy at the desk and turned to Gael, "you would think so, but no."
Aemond was half the size of his brother Aegon but was twice as fierce even though he was two years. Though Gael never mentioned it to Viserys, she always found Aemond to be a sour child loud and sullen, and to a point irritating.
"It's Daemon's," Viserys finally answered.
"Bit queer keeping a toy after all this time," Gael pointed as she took a seat opposite Viserys. His solar was brighter and the coloring only enhanced the room.
"It's hard to believe it, but I found it in my old chambers before my belongings were moved into the King's solar," Viserys looked at the toy as if recalling a memory, "I remember the night Daemon had come into my bedchamber. It was after mother had passed; he had come to me because he was afraid. Father had been aloof after her passing; he had not paid attention to us. I had taken care of him then and held onto him until he went to sleep."
His eyes were glassy which had surprised Gael, "do you know what he said to me that time?"
"What?" Gael whispered.
"He said as he held onto me, 'promise me, you would not leave me as mother did?' The toy was niggling me and had bothered me to no end but I held onto him and gave him that promise."
Viserys stood from his chair and picked the toy up, "every time I look at the toy, I remember the promise that I made. I remember the boy Daemon was, the brother that I loved."
Gael stood from the chair and placed a hand on his shoulder, "then call him back Viserys, five years of bitterness is enough to keep him far."
The sad look from his face disappeared as he shrugged off her hand gently, "would that I could, but he is fighting a war down in the South."
Gael recalled the time in the Small Council when the council had protested Daemon's waging war and Viserys had dismissed it, "Let Daemon play at war, it would keep him out of trouble."
"Five years are far long to stay away from your brother, Viserys," Gael countered.
"A divide that he wrought upon himself with his vile tongue," Viserys bite back, "but it matters not, I do not wish to think back to those times. There was another that suffered in the bitterness between Daemon and myself."
"Gaemon" she stated.
Viserys nodded, "many a time I had wanted to call him back to the court considering the way Daemon had taken him, but I was bound by the promise grandfather had made to the Starks back then and I wanted to honor it."
It was then Gael realized why Viserys had summoned her to his solar, "you want to call him back to King's Landing?"
Gael had missed Gaemon truly, the last raven that she had received from Moat Cailin was of Gaemon going North for his uncle Bennard's wedding. That had almost been a moon turn since the raven came, ever since then the news of Gaemon had grown quiet. She had visited him a few times in Moat Cailin and she had seen how the time and duties had made her boy into a man.
"I could invite Gaemon to King's Landing for the tourney but I fear that our time apart must have made him think ill of me. Especially on the terms with which Daemon and I parted," Viserys suggested but Gael realized what he had wanted her to do.
"I will write to him and remind him that he still has a place of belonging here," Gael reassured Viserys.
Viserys nodded, "I know Rhaenyra would love to have her cousin back. I still recall her writing letters up North to Gaemon, though she has been angry at him lately."
Gael had to chuckle at that, though Rhaenyra would not say it she had missed Gaemon very much.
She still recalled the last time Gael had made mention of Gaemon around Rhaenyra.
"I do not care about his stupid castle made of pale stone. I do not care that he is living amongst savages. I do not care if all the stupid maid and whores in the North would want to lay with him. I do not care about how he spars along with Rogar Bolton or learns to wrestle with Roderick Dustin. I do not care if his cousin Cregan, a boy barely out of his swaddling clothes worships the very ground he walks on. I do not care if he keeps on telling me to come…" Rhaenyra would have carried on if Alyssa would not have intervened.
"You know, for someone who does not care. You surely seem to know a lot about what Gaemon is up to," Alyssa grinned and that made Rhaenyra scowl.
"Your daughter gets what she wants and Gaemon just happens to be that exception," Gael quipped.
Viserys gave her a scandalized expression at that suggestion, "I beg your pardon. Do you mean to imply…"?
Gael rolled her eyes, "Oh nothing like that," yet and hopefully, Gael wanted to add. "Gaemon had abruptly been rooted out of your daughter's life with you forbidding her to visit him. The only time she did visit him was when he was leaving for Winterfell and even that was too short. Yes, they have been exchanging letters but even that has grown fewer with their time apart."
Viserys gave her an understanding look, "well mayhap, with inviting him back to the capital I am sure that they could work on that."
Viserys walked towards the balcony and took a glance at the city down, "besides it has been the last time that our dragon from the North returns to meet his new cousins."
Daemon
Isles of Stepstones, 112 AC – two weeks after Viserys announced the Tourney
"DRACARYS."
Daemon commanded and Caraxes let out his bright flames lighting the ships aflame. Today was the day when vengeance would be his. It had been a year since Daemon had learned the name of the one that had attacked Mysaria's ship all the time back. It was only later Daemon had learned that she had been heavy with her child and the child had died during the attack.
Daemon had been fully armored in his black plated armor. The gold cloak that had served to remind him of his time as the Lord Commander of City Watch. Like Daemon, Caraxes had been armored as well. The time in Stepstone had taught him the lesson to be careful regardless of how strong the scales of a dragon are He had worn a helm with a visor covering his face leaving room for his eyes to gaze out at the distance. Daemon could see the grey skies, windy threatening to pour out in rain.
"Ventario Ryndoon," Daemon whispered as the Bloodwyrm had flown over the Tyroshi sails. Caraxes gave out a defiant roar striking fears in the heart of the pirates that Rydoon had hired, his dragon could feel Daemon's rage. Ever since he had slain Craghas Drahar in the single combat. The battle in Stepstone had become more elusive and fought in the dark. Racallio Ryndoon, elder brother to Ventario had been named as the commander of the fresh forces dispatched by the Three whores.
Daemon had enjoyed every moment of the battle for it was when he truly came alive. The blood-splattered by Dark Sister would have truly painted the walls of the Red Keep had he wished. The heads lopped off would have filled the thick stone parapets of the Red Keep twice over.
"Fly up," Daemon commanded Caraxes as he maneuvered the chains to rise above. The arrows were whistling from the side. Some were bouncing of Caraxes's hardened scales only infuriating the Bloodwyrm and Daemon at the same time. Daemon looked down and saw scorpions being loaded at the same time and losing into the sky. He moved Caraxes around making sure that it would not hit the dragon. The assault in the night had not helped the enemy like a dragon in the night sky was hard to be noticed.
Peace was not something that had been a staple ever since he wore the crown. Dornish had joined the attempt to drive Daemon away from the capital but they had been kept at bay by Corlys's ships and the Northmen that were guarding the Southern Isles. For uncouth savages, the Winter Wolves had proved their mettle twice over as they drove the oncoming army back denying any attempts to lay hold onto the islands.
Daemon shook his head as he finally narrowed it towards his destination. It was a war galley that was unlike the other longships that had been commandeered by the pirates. It took five broken fingers, a gelded cock, and the loss of a nose to finally get the answer that Daemon had desired. Ventario Ryndoon unlike his brother had the liberty to lay raids upon the islands to drive Daemon's attention to the North while a larger army attempts to assault from the South.
Ventario had always remained elusive to Daemon until now. He was leading a raid at a town by one of the Bloodstone isles which had held the supplies. It had been a trap that Daemon had set for sure to lure the bait in. Ventario had come running like a moth to a flame. The new Watchtower that had been erected had signaled Daemon to attack.
Daemon finally descended to look closer into the ground. The enemy had been surrounded from all the corners. Corlys had lived up to his word and had spared him the ships needed to back him up. They had currently blockaded their ships and were preventing the escape. Caraxes landed at the descent and let out another roar which stopped the fighting that had been happening.
The flames were visible in the back, the flames that had been the result of the devastation that Caraxes had wrought upon. Daemon swung his legs over the scales and descended the dragon. The ground below was muddy, thankfully Daemon had worn boots capable enough to keep him up and standing firm. He gritted his teeth and walked towards his target, unsheathing Dark Sister out of his scabbard.
Only three men were surviving, he saw the bodies lying in the ground dead and seagulls flying in the sky. Daemon looked over at the men that had surrounded Ventario. He finally got the look at the craven. A craven that is what he was clinging onto his men for support. He held onto his sword and wore boiled leather for his armor. Daemon had half expected him to be a warrior like Craghas especially given the fact that his brother had been chosen as the admiral.
Daemon moved into the middle and looked at the two men protecting Ventario. They were stronger and had appeared as his guards. He narrowed his gaze towards Ventario who was looking at Daemon as if he is the Stranger himself. He looked at the two men guarding him and spoke in Valyrian, "The craven you are protecting is dead, he just does not know yet. Do you two wish to join him?"
The two men look at each other and then back at Ventario. Daemon could tell that they were thinking on the offer, but whatever considerations they had were squashed as they came forward.
"Better death than suffer Raccalio's wrath," one of the men cried as he tried to jump on Daemon.
A shame, Daemon thought as he moved away from the impending strike and moved swiftly. The mud on the ground caused his enemy to slip and it was enough for Daemon to lop his head off.
The other man was cautious, Ventario was quivering like a chicken at the sight of the blood. He could tell that this was a man who oft thought himself a man based on others. A sheep who mistaken himself as a lion.
"No one comes between me and my price today," Daemon commanded his men and they remained still as statues with swords brought downward.
Daemon pushed forward and brought down Dark Sister, but the man blocked it with his rusted sword. The Valyrian steel was stronger and sharper than some common steel. The scrapes of steel fell as Dark Sister clanged again. His opponent was a brute and he had relied upon it greatly. However, Daemon had been swift in parrying any oncoming blows and had driven him back to defense.
He heard a shout coming from behind and immediately moved away and saw a sword driving onto his opponent's heart. The fool Ventario had thought to attack Daemon from the back and had no sense to be quiet about it.
Ventario's eyes widened as he realized his folly and Daemon gave a swift kick onto his side making him fall. His guard knelt and coughed out blood, his eyes filled with anguish and fear. Daemon grabbed onto the golden pommel of the sword and removed it from his heart. He assessed the sword and was surprised that, unlike the others, this one was far better.
Daemon squinted his eyes close and he made out ripples of black and dark red-hued upon the flat of the blade.
Valyrian Steel, Daemon realized. He turned his gaze to look at Ventario who was in the ground looking at him in fear.
"I wonder how a craven like you came to possess such an exquisite sword," Daemon muttered in Tyroshi assessing the sword.
His curiosity turned to anger as he finally observed Ventario slowly trying to pick up a rock. Daemon let him do it and the moment he threw it, Daemon merely avoided it by moving to the side. He walked forth with anger and grabbed Ventario by the scrape of his neck.
"Mercy," Ventario cried in his drawled Tyroshi tongue. He saw fear in his eyes as Daemon tightened his grip upon his neck.
"Years ago, you took something from me," Daemon whispered in the Common Tongue. "Did you believe yourself to be safe?" Daemon pushed him down and punched him with the pointed hilt of Dark Sister.
Blood started pouring out of Ventario's brows, "Had I learned early of your existence? I would have scuffed it out even before you were relevant."
Ventario cried for mercy once more as he gasping for air trying to breathe for air as Daemon dragged him towards Caraxes.
His men let him pass, not even questioning Daemon or protesting in anyways. No, these men were loyal to him and they would follow Daemon to the Seven Hells if need be.
"Your action caused the death of my child," Daemon growled and threw Ventario towards Caraxes.
He stood up quivering with piss rolling down his breeches, "The debt to that can only be paid by your death." Daemon looked up at Caraxes and let out a wicked smile and letting out the command that would seal Ventario's fate, "Dracarys."
--
Daemon would have thought that after feeding Ventario to Caraxes, he would have found a semblance of peace. It was a lie. He had felt an emptiness that no amount of drink, no number of whores, and no amount of blood spilled would fill it.
Days had passed on as Daemon looked over at the sea in the East. The manse that he lived on was dreary but richest in the spittle of the land they called Bloodstone. War had been a constant companion that kept Daemon bound all this time. Blood and glory were his constant companion though he found it lacking.
He took a breath as his silver-gold hair flown freely in the moist wind. His gaze turned Northward as he looked over at the horizon and imagined where his home lied. The news from Westeros had never interested Daemon much. The bitch Alicent had been squirting children after children. His niece Rhaenyra had grown into a renowned beauty and was called 'The Realm's Delight.'
Corlys had remained with him as his partner and oversaw the naval defense of the Stepstone. With Triarchy being a constant threat to Daemon's kingdom, peace had been a short-lived notion. In the North lied his only son, the boy that had mattered to him the most out of anyone else in his life.
He wondered what Gaemon would think of his father. He had not forgotten the frightening face whenever Daemon would lose his temper or strike at any servants out in rage. The letters from Moat Cailin had been far too few for the distance between lands were far too difficult to be covered by a raven. More importantly, Daemon had feared that his messages would be intercepted by the enemies and his son would be used against him by his enemies.
The only news that Daemon received from the North was from Torrhen Manderly who had been in charge of the Northern fleet that had pledged to Daemon's cause. The Manderly boy was a second son to Lord Desmond Manderly and had felt his calling come when Daemon had announced his intentions in Stepstones. He had been responsible for ferrying trading barges through Stepstone and protecting them against attacks from Pirates.
"You ought to be proud of your son, my prince," Torrhen had once said, "he is becoming a capable swordsman and with Ol' Roddy training the boy, he will become a Warrior Reborn by the time he reaches his manhood."
He had clung onto those words many times and he even gave Torrhen his letter to be delivered to Gaemon.
Daemon was beaming when a letter from his son reached him back. His words were the only encouragement that he needed, "You are a conqueror like Aegon the Dragon kepa, never think less of yourself. I know I will never do so." Tears threatened to spill but Daemon had controlled himself at the time. He had kept that letter secure and made sure that it never be burned.
He turned to look at his desk where the Valyrian Steel sword that he retrieved from Ventario laid. A fitting gift for Gaemon, Daemon realized. On the edge laid another letter that had arrived from King's Landing.
It had been from Gael who had been his source of news from King's Landing and the court of Red Keep. His brother had decided to announce another tourney for his wife. However, unlike other tourneys, Viserys had decided to bring his son into the capital as well.
Daemon turned to look back North and decided that while his Kingdom of Stepstones would remain. It was time that he graced his presence in the capital and remind them who Daemon Targaryen was.
More importantly, Daemon had rared to be with his son once more, who was now sure to be grown now.
Time to go home.
Notes:
Next Chapter
The paths merge onto King's Landing as sides are drawn.
The next update will be for Prince of Winter