Kings Landing, Early 105 AC

Daemon Targaryen

" One more round ", he called as the bartender poured a healthy serving of ale down his glass. He sat there in a tavern in Flea Bottom surrounded by his Gold Cloaks.

For the better part of his life he had preferred the streets of Flea Bottom to the Red Keep, the first time he had been out on the streets was when he was but twelve name days old, escaping from his lessons he had rushed through the tunnels in the dungeons of Red Keep and found his way into the dragonpit on Rhaenys Hill and beside it stood flea bottom in all its glory, or better said in all its infamy.

He had been both intrigued and disgusted the first time he visited it. But as time went by his visits only increased. By the end of the year he knew the district and the people living in it like the palm of his hand, he knew exactly who were the regulars at which taverns, where the main hideouts of the worst of scum in the city was and who were most involved in smuggling goods in or out through the blackwater. He felt it had various similarities with the court; when you undertake a venture in Flea Bottom, you either succeed and rise to power or fall into the deepest of pits, there is no middle ground.

It was through these visits he came to know of the pitiful state of the Gold Cloaks, while the Gold Cloaks were supposed to protect the people and keep the king's peace, they did anything but that. Putting their own benefit ahead of justice, crime occurred without restraint. Well at least until he took over, since then he had beaten the Gold Cloaks into shape, rewarding those who worked hard and kept the peace and punishing those who used the power their station granted for their own personal gains. Through his efforts to reduce crime he had earned the loyalty of the people of the city and the moniker of " The Prince Of The City " and " Lord Flea Bottom ".

Other than that he was most well versed in the Street of Silks and all the attractions it had to offer. He knew exactly which lords visited the streets of silks seeking pleasure with either women or men, which brothels catered to some very specific needs and had several exotic choices from the East. Since he was fourteen he had spent most of his nights here, bedding whores and perfecting his skills in the art of seduction and lovemaking.

It had paid off during his time with Jonella, gods what a woman she was. All his life he had wished for a Valyrian bride though he knew the likelihood of him getting one was very low yet when he met her it didn't matter to him. She charmed him in every way possible, never had he seen a highborn girl so stubborn, bold or bawdy. She knew what she wanted and took it by any means, she rode like she was half a horse herself, she was better with a blade than many a man he knew and always spoke her mind. He had fallen for her the first time he saw her.

Flashback

Seaguard, 96 AC

He stood by the edge of the field looking down to the field below, several banners adored the outer ring of the tourney ground as people cheered on the riders. Dressed in a black plate armor with a gold silver cloak. A helmet covered his face.

To the onlookers he was a mystery knight here to earn his name, possibly a lordling, judging by the quality of armor he wore

So what was prince of the blood doing here, well trying to earn his knighthood just like his father had years ago. Prince Baelon had ridden as a mystery knight in Lord Darklyns tourney as a mystery knight named the silver fool and earned his knighthood before riding back to claim Vhagar as his own. While Daemon had already claimed Caraxes, his knighthood was due and thus this.

" So here we have the Golden Fool against the Frozen Crow, two fine mystery knights competing for a spot in the final tilt " the herald announced. The prince took his spot observing his opponent.

" The Frozen Crow ", another mystery knight like him was competing, defeating rider after rider up to the semi finals, he was dressed in brown leather armor from head to toe. His shield had the depiction of a crow covered in ice. His greatest asset was his riding skills, something he used to ride down most of his opponents.

This was a tough opponent….

They lined up against each other, their Lance's at the ready.

Daemon took in a long breadth, his eyes fixed. The entire tourney ground, silent as a crypt.

" Hyaa ", they yelled as he rushed towards each other. They met at the center of the field trying to crash their lance's into the other.

Neither of them hit true.

Both retook their positions going for another round in which both broke their lances.

The crowd cheered. His excitement was at its peak, as he prepared for another tilt.

The two once again clashed in the center of the field except this time Daemon's Lance hit true and his opponent was down on the ground.

The crowd cheered as he dismounted, walking across to his fallen foe and pulled off his helmet.

And all the cheering died down…

The rider in question was no man or boy. But it was a woman, a girl barely older than him.

Her brown black hair that till now was living confined in a helmet now fell free fluttering in the light breeze that blew. Her deep grey eyes locked on to his, directly through his helmet.

He didn't know what came over him, for the next moment he removed his own helmet revealing to the world who he was without a care in the world. For him in that moment only those eyes mattered.

He offered his hand, she refused and got up on her own.

Their eyes still locked.

He asked ," My lady, may I know your name '', his voice barely a whisper.

" Jonella ", she answered in a warm, carefree voice " Jonella Stark "

And left leaving a wordless Daemon Targaryen behind….

Flashback Ends

That one year they had spent together was one of pure bliss and it came to an end in the most painful way possible, with her death.

But while leaving she left behind Aurion, his son and heir. He couldn't be prouder of the boy. The boy excelled at everything, he was better with a sword than he was at his age and took to his lessons with greater ease and more enthusiasm than he ever did.

He had been flying back from Runestone when he had heard the news, the boy had claimed The Cannibal as his mount. His first reaction had been to laugh it off as a jape but as he approached King's Landing and saw the black behemoth circling the Red Keep, he didn't know what to say.

The only thing he could think of was what his grandfather had said years ago " who would be mad enough to claim the Cannibal ", apparently it was his son.

He looked around as he drank another glass, to his left was Ser Luthor followed by Ser Andrew and Ser Vickon, all of them loyal Knights from the Reach. To his right were some he couldn't recognise, but he attributed that to the wine and drank on.

His good sister had died the previous night and nephew this afternoon. While this was a tragedy for the family, the loss of two members of the blood, considering Aemma was half Targaryen this did mean his position as heir was still secure.

He couldn't wait for another bout with Otto, that smug little shit, ever since his bitch of a daughter threw herself at him and tried to take him to bed he had been a pain in the ass.

As for his daughter she was no better, after failing to seduce him she had moved on to Viserys. The two would chat away with them having dinner many a times together, while Aemma lay heavy with child. While Daemon had no misconceptions about how the sex life between Viserys and Aemma was only to have a heir and not for pleasure he would rather his brother fuck a hundred whores than that bitch. Though he understood the attraction Viserys faced considering Alicent would give most whores a run for their money.

He removed such thoughts from his mind, as he gulped down another glass. In the end it didn't matter, he was his brother's heir. He was still Prince Of Dragonstone and would be king one day and his son would succeed him to the Iron Throne one day. Mayhaps he could convince Viserys to arrange a betrothal between Aurion and Rhaenyra. Thus by making sure his blood stays on the Iron Throne.

His niece was another interesting character, since the moment she was born she had been a beautiful babe, one that would grow up to be a Valyrian beauty. He doted on her and she seemed to reciprocate it. And much like her father he could never refuse the girl anything. He took her flying and instructed her on dragon riding techniques once she mounted her young she dragon, Syrax it was called.

For now he frowned in drinks as his compatriots cheered him on….

" To the Prince Of Dragonstone ", someone said as the others responded positively with " Ayes ".

He raised his glass drinking to himself and his future.

When someone to enquired about his dead nephew…

" Heir For A Day ", the man to his right said.

" Heir For A Day ", several people repeated, while others across the room looked horrified and slowly slipped away. While a too drunk Daemon just raised his glass and gulped down another load…..

As he walked to the throne room the next morning he clutched his head. Gods how much did he drink last night? This headache was unbearable.

He arrived to see Viserys standing by the Iron Throne.

"Good Morning…. God's I need to visit Rucinter… this is unbearable ", he said clutching his head.

" Tell me Daemon ", he began in the tone he used while suppressing his emotions and Daemon immediately knew he was in some form of trouble ," do you ever wonder how Balerion forged this throne? "

He looked at him before continuing ," I did, I still do… I wonder what Balerion thought while making this… this chair… a chair that leads to kin killing kin, to plots and so much hatred "

" Brother you are not making any sense ", he enquired puzzled.

" Heir For A Day ", Viserys spat, his mask breaking ," how could you, that boy was you blood your nephew and don't you dare deny it "

" I do not understand, Heir For A Day, what are going on about… "

" Men loyal to me heard you speak these exactly words while celebrating you nephews death last night "

" Who told you such lies ", Daemon raged , " Yes I was drinking, but I never said those words "

" Even now you do nothing but lie, what next would you deny that you named yourself Prince Of Dragonstone and my heir ", Viserys asked, outraged.

"Yes I named myself as such because I am your heir ", Daemon answered

" According to who ", was the reply.

" According to will of the Great Council and the precedent set by our grandfather "

" No you are not, Rhaenyra is… and I would name her as such to the entire realm as soon as the lord's converge at Kings Landing ", Viserys replied calmly.

" You can't do that… ", Daemon replied outraged ," The council clearly said the male line prevails over a female one and our own father was named heir over our cousin Rhaenys ".

" Only because our grandfather deemed it so, do you think had uncle Aemon become king either our father or I would ever have been named heir… the king's word is the last word and I have made mine… Rhaenyra is my heir not you ", Viserys said.

" You… you owe me, I convinced the realm to vote for you, I won you the Council, I fought against my good brother Ellard for you, I was ready to fight the entire Velaryon fleet and our cousin for you… "

" True but ask yourself something first, did you do these for me or to have a chance at the Throne " Viserys asked tearing his argument to shreds.

" I… I yes I wanted to be king, but I would never say those words, brother you have to trust me " Daemon pleaded.

" I can't… no… not this time…. You are stripped of your position as Lord Commander of The Gold Cloaks and of your position at the small council, and are hereby… hereby banished from King's Landing till further notice and ordered to return to your wife in the Vale and before you protest might I add, you would be stripped of your position in the line of succession, disinherited and declared a traitor should you refuse or protest and as for your son be is to stay here and would be brought up as a prince of the blood should be along with his cousin ", answered Viserys his voice breaking as he spoke these words.

The brothers stared at each other.

A moment passed before Daemon stormed out of the throne room.

It would be an hour before Caraxes would take off from the dragonpit carrying the Rogue Prince as they flew towards the Vale.

…...

Authors Notes :-So here you have it...

This was a shorter chapter...

In this fic Daemon was set up by Otto.

Up next we have the events leading up to War in the Stepstones and Viserys wedding.

Please comment your suggestions, feedback and criticisms of the chapter and the story as well down below.