My Name is Daemon Targaryen and I am Going Home

by Alperez16

A different champion steps up for Tyrion changing the outcome of the Trial by Combat and the game itself.

7. All That Glitters is Gold

Griffin's Roost 300 AC.

Sansa.

All through the ride, she felt her worries increase. The men with her would keep her safe, she'd no doubt of that and yet for the first time in the gods knew how long, it was not herself that she feared for. It was a strange feeling and one she'd feared she'd never know again. The loss of her father, mother, brothers, and though a small part of he had always hoped Arya to still be living, her sister too, had forced her to be almost as selfish as she once was. Not quite the same, but again only caring about her own safety and what it was that she had to suffer through.

Knowing that her sister lived and was as close to her as she had been since King's Landing, made Sansa worry that the gods or fate would conspire to take the chance to see Arya again from her. It was not only her sister that she worried about though. Holding an equal place in her worries and fears was her cousin who she knew was more than likely in the midst of a battle right now. The thought that she'd not see Daemon again. That she'd never again see him and so never come to terms with her growing feelings for him, were not ones she wished to face, and yet face them she must.

She'd asked the men with her whether they worried as she did and had been slightly relieved to find they did not. Sansa had listened as they told tales of the Golden Company, of the battles they won, and of how the Westerosi would be no match for them on an open field. While she'd put that down to the confidence of cocky men, she'd found more comfort in some of the other words they'd spoken and had found herself listening eagerly as they spoke of her cousin and of Jon Connington.

"I fear not for the outcome of battle my lady, truly I don't. For our king has picked the ground the battle is to be fought upon and he picked it well." one of the older men said proudly.

"We have allies to join us in this fight, dissension to be spread amongst our enemies ranks and a good and true king to lead us and we have Griff, and there is no man who wishes to see the lions fall more than he." said another.

"We have our war elephants and those in Westeros have never faced the like of them before." the first man added to loud laughter.

"Fear not, my lady, for tonight we dine on the dead and the tales of or victory will soon be immortalized in song, and what a song that will be, eh."

As they neared the keep, she found her hands began to sweat. The thoughts that Arya was inside and waiting to see her, were ones that she couldn't quite shake. In this though she was much disappointed to find that her sister hadn't arrived as of yet. Sansa fought down the small voice in her head that told her this was all a mummery, that she was being played false and that some game was afoot that she was unaware of. She denied the part of herself that told her that Daemon was just like all the others she'd foolishly put her trust in and that he sought only some gain from her.

Still, she found herself looking from the parapets rather than waiting in the rooms she'd been provided. Four of the guards that Daemon had sent with her, standing there behind her as she did so. When she saw the horses in the distance, she felt her heart begin to race. The closer they got to the keep, the more she leaned forward, and was it not for the hand that pulled her back, then in her eagerness to see if her sister was amongst them, she may have fallen. Upon seeing Arya, she almost did anyway. She quickly turned and hurried and made her way to the courtyard to make sure it was not a wraith, specter, or vision that she'd seen.

"Sansa?" Arya said sounding shocked when she saw her running across the courtyard.

"By the seven, Arya, it's truly you, it's truly you." she called out and before she knew it, she and Arya were hugging each other tightly and she never wished to let her go.

How long had it been since they'd actually touched one another?

Had they ever truly done so other than to slap or strike the other over some prank or silly argument they were having?

If not, then why not, since it felt this good to do so?

There were so many questions running through her head and as she moved slightly away, without letting go of her sister, she looked into Arya's face and both of them asked the same one at the same time.

"Are you well?" they said together, and for the first time that she could remember, both of them laughed at something the other did.

She hugged Arya tightly once more and then the sobbing began, hers, Arya's, both of them giving in to the emotions of a reunion that neither ever truly believed would occur. How long they stood like that, she knew not. Though it was no surprise to see Arya look embarrassed by her tears and it was very much one to feel her sister's fingers as they wiped her own.

"Who are your friends, Arya?" she asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

Her sister then took the time to introduce her to a boy who was almost a man and looked remarkably like Renly Baratheon and another boy who was rotund and wore a happy smile. Gendry Waters and Hot Pie she'd named them respectively. The other man who was tall and slim and bore a white streak in his long red hair, Arya named Jaqen H'ghar from the House of Black and White and taking her sister by the hand, it was to him that Sansa walked to.

"You know our cousin?" she asked as Arya looked at her confusedly.

"A man knows Daemon Targaryen." Jaqen replied and Sansa felt Arya squeeze her hand as she looked at her.

"He's at present facing off against the Lannister and Tyrell army, he and the men of the Golden Company, is he safe?" she asked worriedly.

"A man will see Daemon before the sun falls on the morrow, as will a girl." Jaqen said looking from her to Arya.

"Who's Daemon Targaryen and why did you name him as our cousin?" Arya asked.

"Come sister, there is much we need to talk about and much I'd like to learn about your travels." she said offering Arya a smile which she was happy to see her return.

She could see Arya's looks of suspicion that were directed at her guard and she knew that she'd need to address her concerns about them very quickly. Her sister's friends were shown to rooms and offered refreshments and where Jaqen went to, neither she nor Arya was privy to. As for them, it was to the rooms that she'd been given that she brought Arya and they arrived to find a servant bringing them food and something to drink. Something that both of them welcomed.

"You still eat the same." she said as Arya belched loudly.

"As do you." Arya replied, giggling as she did so.

"I heard some of what happened with you. Was it awful at Harrenhal, did they hurt you?" she asked worriedly.

"I had it better than most." Arya shrugged.

"Arya?"

"I'd rather not speak about it." Arya said softly and Sansa nodded.

"Things have been good since you were brought to Braavos? You were safe there?" she asked hopefully.

"I was, truly I was." Arya replied and she breathed a relieved sigh "These men? Are you a prisoner?" Arya asked a moment later

"No, far from it, it's thanks to these men and mostly to our cousin that I'm finally free." she said and then began to tell her sister all she knew about Daemon and how he'd come to free her from the Vale.

It took some time for her to tell the tale and Arya then told her that she'd been told that their kin had helped her but not much more than that. When Sansa then explained who Daemon was, Arya raised her doubts only for Sansa's lack of any to win out. They spoke little about their family, or their losses, and how they felt about them. Instead, Arya wished to hear more of Daemon's plans and asked her if it was true that he was facing the lions as she'd said.

The Stormlands 300 AC.

Oberyn.

He had wished to take his life himself, both his and the monster that had been sent against his sister by him all those years ago. Watching on as someone else took the vengeance that should have been his, should have caused him far more pain and anger than it did. Instead, he'd seen justice being delivered in both cases. He'd seen both men suffer greatly for all they'd taken from him and in Tywin Lannister's case, that justice had been swift and unmerciful.

Looking at Daemon Targaryen and seeing him covered in the Old Lion's blood was cathartic. Not just for him, but for the man himself too. Oberyn and those around him could hear the heavy breathing and it showed both the exertion he'd put into what he'd done, as well as the emotional toll it had taken out of him. He moved over and helped the man back to his feet, his eyes torn between Daemon and the body that lay on the ground. Half a hundred times Tywin Lannister had been stabbed, the back of his head had been smashed to a pulp and yet, it was the expression on the remarkably undamaged face that Oberyn would remember later. Never before had he seen such fear or terror and it filled his heart to know that had been what he'd felt at the end.

"See that the body is brought back undamaged, the face specifically." Daemon said to the men of the Golden Company and then he looked to him "They are avenged, almost."

"Almost?" he asked curiously.

"Walk with me, Prince Oberyn."

They and his girls walked some distance from where Tywin had met his end. The small stream soon ran a little red from the blood and pieces of skull and brain that Daemon washed off himself. Once he was done and turned to look at him, it was like he was a different man altogether. Whatever it had been that he'd seen in his eyes a little earlier, was no longer there and instead had been replaced by a coldness that would have chilled even him, was it to be directed at anyone he cared for.

"Tywin may have let loose his mad dogs and Lorch and the Mountain may have been who brought about our kin's ends, but there were other men without who it could not have happened."

"Which men?" he asked furiously.

"Varys and Littlefinger." Daemon said and whether it was he, Obara, or Nym who made the sound he knew not, but the gasp rang out loudly.

"How so?" he asked reining in his temper for now.

"My mother sent so many letters when she was in the Tower of Joy. She sought the truth to be known, believing if it was then things would play out differently, but her and my father's song had already been sung by then." Daemon said sadly before continuing "One letter though was handed personally to Lysa Tully." he spat.

"Telling the truth of things?"

"It spoke a truth that the lady kept to herself during all that happened. At no time did she reveal what the letter said, not to her sister, her father, certainly not to Jon Arryn or my uncle. The why of it had eluded me for far too long, only for one of the other names on my mother's list to bring me the answers I sought."

"Varys?" he asked confused only for Daemon to shake his head.

"Littlefinger." Daemon said "What know of you of him and my uncle Brandon?" Daemon asked and Oberyn told him the little he'd heard, the tale of a fight for some reason he knew not and it was left to Daemon himself to fill in the gaps in the story.

"So she did it to get back at your uncle?" he asked, his voice far more annoyed at that fact than at the lady in question for some reason.

"I thought so. For the longest time I thought so, but his presence on my mother's list didn't ring true was that to be the case. It was not until I heard what he'd done with my uncle in King's Landing that it became clearer. He's been playing with my mother's house for far too long. Lysa did what she did, but she did so not to get back at Brandon Stark, but because Littlefinger bid her to."

"I don't understand, how does this make him responsible for Elia, Aegon, and Rhaenys."

"They were irrelevant to him. Acceptable losses that he cared not for. In seeking to end my mother's House, he cared not who suffered. Had he not sought to see my uncle Brandon dead, then none of what followed would have occurred. Oh, my grandfather was still as mad as mad can be, but he'd not have been able to see to the deaths of a Warden and his heir without what Littlefinger and Lysa did."

He listened and began to see the lines that Daemon was drawing. Had Brandon Stark not rode to rescue a believed to be kidnapped sister, had the truth been known, then calmer heads could have prevailed. One small action or inaction had helped set events into a spiral that had cost him, his family, and the man in front of him, so very much. So now he, like Daemon, added names to a list.

"And Varys?"

"To see a Mummer Dragon crowned, Varys planned and plotted and set events in motion. Were it not for him then my father would have removed his own long before any rebellion was even truly considered. He's a man who claims to have helped your nephew escape from the Red Keep, yet could not do the same for your niece and sister. A man who had it in his power to see it so, yet chose not to. It was Varys whose whispers were just as costly to us both as anything Lysa Tully or Littlefinger did or did not."

"And you know for certain that this boy he sought to crown was not my nephew?" he asked.

"Would that he was, Prince Oberyn, would that he was." Daemon said sadly.

Looking at the man in front of him, he finally asked a question that he had somewhat had answered already. Daemon had said things about his niece and nephew when he revealed himself to be who he truly was. Now Oberyn found he had a need to hear them spoken once more.

"And had it been?" he asked, his eyes staring deep into Daemon's own.

"Then this army would have marched to crown my brother and I'd have fought side by side with him. I'd have deflected any blow aimed in his direction, thrown myself in front of any arrow that was fired at him. For Aegon or Rhaenys, I'd have gladly swapped all the days I've had and taken all the days they did not for mine own. Believe my words or do not. But be in no doubt that there has not been a moment since I found out the truth of myself that I've not wished the chance to change their fates. That road however is closed to us all and this one is the only one we can travel." Daemon said before walking away and leaving Oberyn alone with his girls.

The silence was welcomed by him. His girls not asking the many questions they may have had and allowing him to come to terms with all this day had wrought. How long they stayed there, just standing silently, he knew not, but Daemon had ridden back to the battlefield long before Oberyn turned to do the same.

"Do you believe him, father?" Nym asked as they mounted up.

"Gods help me, but I do. Even were it not for his words, I saw his eyes after he killed Tywin Lannister and I saw the truth that he couldn't hide in those eyes."

"What did you see, father?" Obara asked curiously.

"I saw myself." he said and then they rode back to find out the true extent of their victory.

To say it had been full was an understatement. Their losses had been minimal. Dorne having lost then two hundred men and the Golden Company less than five hundred. The other side had been far less lucky and the Lannister army had been crushed, as had those forces, Leal, to Mace Tyrell. Was that not enough of a measure of their victory, then the prisoners they had captured certainly was. An injured Mace Tyrell, his son, Garlan, most of the lords of the Reach and West, barring those who'd fallen, and Kevan Lannister were among the many they now held.

For all intents and purposes, the war for the throne was all but over. Other than King's Landing itself and the Vale, should Littlefinger dare to face them, the South was soon to swear to a new king. It had not been something he'd have ever believed that he himself would do. Not just the swearing itself, but to the king who was being sworn to. Yet for once he felt his knees ready to bend, an oath willing to be sworn, and a heart that was far fuller than it had been in many a year. Making his way to the command tent, he looked forward to the night and days to come.

Stormlands 300 AC.

Jon Connington.

The victory was clear and comprehensive. One charge of the elephants, Balaq and his archers letting loose a number of volleys, and he and the others doing the rest. While their army had fought cohesively, the Lannister/Tyrell one had very much not. As Jon and others had expected, their first experience dealing with the elephants in full flight had left them shocked and stunned. Lances and horses were no match for the magnificent beasts, as men of the Golden Company, had proved time and time again over the years.

Yet as much as it was their tactics that had won this day, it had been their king who'd truly done so. Daemon had sewn discord amongst the ranks of the Lions and Roses. He'd removed some of Tywin's most diligent and dangerous commanders, the how of it not something that Jon truly understood and in the end cared little for. All he knew was that other than one man, Lord Brax, Daemon had taken no more lives to offer to the Many-Faced God and had instead used some other means to see them sidelined. On the Roses side, his king had used words rather than deeds to have the same effect and in this, he was even more successful. Tarly, Rowan, Ashford, and others all abandoned their liege lord and renewed their old oaths once more. Were that not enough, Dorne had come when Daemon had called and so now the feeling Jon felt was far different to the Battle of the Bells, but not yet the Trident.

He looked out on the field and though his eyes found men he'd named as friends, they did not find who he truly sough. So despite himself, he began to fear for Daemon's safety. Even when he took the actual surrenders from Kevan Lannister, Roland Crakehall, Quenten Banefort, and Ser Garlan Tyrell, his thoughts were elsewhere. Knowing he still had a job to do, he did his best to put his worries to one side and tasked some of the men to see the most valuable of their prisoners were secured, and that their men had truly laid down their arms. Then riding to where he saw Lysono and some of the others, he went looking for the answer to the one question he needed one for.

"A true victory, Griff." Old John Mudd called out as Jon and his guards arrived.

"Thank the gods, John. Young John?" he asked to a beaming smile from the older man.

"Earned himself glory this day, Griff."

"Lysono."

"Griff. He's well Griff, afore you ask. My men rode with him and the Dornish Prince and some of his own followed. They were more than enough to take the man he rode after and his own." Lysono said and while it was not all he wished to hear, it was enough for now.

"We should speak to our friends from the Reach then, no doubt they'll have questions that need answering." the Hand that he was answered, while the man that he was still looked off to the distance that Daemon had rode off into.

They made their way back to their camp. Jon met with the Serjeants in the Command Tent before he sent out for Tarly and the others. He listened to them speak of their losses and though he mourned the men, he felt some pride that they'd lost so very few of them. Just as Daemon had said, a dragon had brought them home and unlike the other times in their history that they'd attempted this, this time they were home to stay.

"Send them in." he said after bidding Lysono to stay and tasking the others with their duties. Not that they needed to be told what to do, but more because of his role as Captain General meaning it needed to be him that did so.

Wine, food, all was brought and laid out along with ale for those who wished a different drink. The men who walked into the tent a few moments later were men he'd broken bread with and had named as friends once. Randyll Tarly had aged little and was still as formidable as ever, Mathis Rowan wore a true smile when he looked at him and Alyn Ashford's eyes sought someone else and looked disappointed not to see Daemon anywhere. Lorent Caswell and Artos Oakheart, he knew lesser as he did Martyn Mullendore, but the three men nodded to him as they entered and seemed pleased to see the food and wine that was laid out.

"Help yourself to the refreshments, a man feels the hunger far more after a battle than he does before one." he said to a laugh from Mathis and a scowl from Randyll.

"You call that a battle, Connington. That was a rout in all but name." Randyll said while the others poured themselves wine, ale, and ate from the offered plates.

"Thankfully one for the right side, Randyll." he said to a nod of the man's head and he smirked when Randyll poured himself an ale.

"The King, Jon, where is the king?" Mathis asked eagerly.

"His grace has gone to end the Old Lion once and for all, Lord Rowan. Tywin Lannister fled when he saw the day was won and hoped to reach safety in King's Landing." Lysono said before chuckling "He'll find it a journey he'll not finish."

"You should send men after him, Jon, ensure the king's safety." Alyn Ashford said worriedly.

"Not only has he left with a large enough escort, but Prince Oberyn and his own have followed, and even were he but a man alone then I've no fear for my king." Jon said to a surprised look from Mathis and a curious one from Randyll.

"You truly think him so capable?" Randyll asked.

"It may have been the men of the Golden Company who rode today, Randyll, but it was the king who led us. It was his plan that we followed." he said proudly.

"That doesn't make him invincible, Lord Connington." Artos Oakheart said.

"What if I was to tell you it was the king who felled the Mountain, Lord Oakheart, would that put your mind at ease?"

"It was a Rogare….Wasn't it?" Alyn Ashford said confusedly.

"Was it indeed?" he said and he was about to say more only to hear the cheers go up from outside the tents, he, Lysono, and the others all racing out to see the returning men, and Jon was finally able to let go of that small bit of worry he felt.

Daemon was unharmed and once again he wore the face of a Mummer Dragon. Jon then finally realized that soon he'd need to explain that truth to the men of the Reach and the rest of the Golden Company. While the Serjeants all knew, as did some of those who'd been tasked to shadow Daemon during the battle, others did not. They believed they followed the dragon who'd take them home and that dragon to them, was Aegon Targaryen. He had no fear when they found out the truth that it would change how they felt about Daemon. Jon believed their men would accept it and him easily. Turning to the men with him and seeing them look at the man they'd soon name as their king, he hoped they'd do so as well. For now, he had other things to concern himself with and so he moved to Daemon to hear tell of Tywin Lannister and to make sure his king was truly unharmed.

"All is well, your grace?" he asked as Daemon climbed down from his white horse.

"All is well, Jon. Tywin Lannister has finally paid his debt." he said motioning with his head to the body of the man on one of the horses behind him.

"And you….you are unharmed?"

"I'm well, Jon, truly." Daemon said patting him softly on the back and looking at the Lords of the Reach behind him "It's time for some truths to be revealed Jon, the lords first, then the rest of the men."

"They'll stand with you still, Daemon, on that I've no doubt."

Daemon was allowed to change his clothing and it was only as he was doing so that Jon saw just how much blood truly covered it and him. He was about to once again ask if he was truly unhurt, only for Daemon to notice where he was looking and to tell him the blood was Tywin's. Jon listened as Daemon told him that he'd done to the man what had been done to his brother and sister. That he'd stabbed him once for each time that Rhaenys had been stabbed and had caved in the back of his head, just as Aegon's had been.

"Was it enough, Daemon? Did it…."

"No, nothing would be, Jon. But it's all I could do and I trust that he's in the Many-Faced God's embrace now and my god is not a merciful one."

He told him about the prisoners they had captured, finding that Daemon didn't seem to care too much for the details only for later to be surprised when it was clear he very much did. Putting down his lack of interest at the time to the meeting with the Reach lords, he was surprised once more when it was not them that Daemon wished to speak on.

"Did the ship arrive safely, Jon? Have Lady Sansa and Lady Arya been reunited?" Daemon asked as he finished dressing in cleaner clothing.

"They have, Daemon." he said and was rewarded with a smile that took him back to many years earlier.

"I'll ride to them on the morrow."

"King's Landing, Daemon?" he asked and saw a dark look come over his face before he answered.

"I believe I have the right plan for it, one that will require little bloodshed. Have the Lannister and Tyrell men stripped of their armor and colors, the knights Jon, concentrate on the knights."

"I'll see it done, Daemon. You're ready for the lords?"

"Send them in. You'll stay?"

"I'll stay." he said happily.

The Stormlands 300 AC.

Daemon.

He'd been as truthful as he could to Jon when he'd asked him. Tywin's death had brought him little comfort other than serving as justice for his siblings and their mother's own, and it was far from enough. It was simply wiping a name from a list, his mother's list, or so he'd tried to tell himself, and yet…he'd felt pleasure when he'd ended the man. For the first time in his life, he'd truly enjoyed giving the gift to someone. Not even killing the Mountain had felt that way to him and he wondered if it was because men like Tywin never pay for their crimes.

Lorch had escaped the justice and vengeance that Daemon had sought to bring to him. He'd found his death facing a bear and had suffered greatly. The Mountain may very well have fallen to another's blade and had he not arrived when he had, that blade may have been just as worthy to end the monster's life as his own was. Daemon was sure that Oberyn would have seen him dead in the Trial by Combat were it not for him. Tywin though. Varys and Littlefinger were men who somehow would not pay for what they'd done. They'd allow others to fall for them, live comfortable lives and never feel a day's guilt or suffer any pain when they eventually fell. So as he waited for the Lords of the Reach to come into the tent, he wondered if when he brought the gift to the others on his list, would he feel that same sense of pleasure too.

It was not all his mind pondered on. Images of red hair and blue eyes, of a true smile when she was back with her sister once more, now filled his mind too. As did a longing to see her again, to see his other cousin too, but he'd be a liar if he said it wasn't Sansa that he truly wished to see. It wouldn't even take the Game of Faces, to prove him such a liar if the look on Jon's face was to be believed. Daemon finally decided he needed to clear his mind of all but what he needed to do, and so he relied on an old trick to do so. Closing his eyes, he breathed out softly, then held his breath for a moment before breathing in once more.

"The Lords of the Reach, your grace." Jon said as Daemon opened his eyes.

"My lords, please sit there is much we need to discuss and some of the secrets I'm about to reveal may cause you some issues that needs must be resolved."

"Secrets, your grace? Other than the how of your survival and your whereabouts all these years, Lord Varys has told us all we need know." Mathis Rowan said and Daemon shook his head.

"It's because of men like Lord Varys that these secrets must be kept, my lords. For the only way to truly out a liar is to allow them to think you not only believe their lies but are willing to play your part in them."

"Your grace?" Randyll Tarly asked confused.

"My name is Daemon Targaryen, my lords. Trueborn son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen. And my tale is a strange and oft perplexing one that starts in a tower in Dorne, almost eight and ten years ago."

His words shocked them for true. The questions that each had, stayed on their lips for now and so Daemon began to tell a tale that took a far shorter time to tell in one sitting that he'd have wagered it would have. He told of his mother and father, of the deaths of his brother and sister and their mother. He had just reached speaking of the Tower and of what happened there on the day of his birth when Oberyn arrived. Bidding him take a seat, he saw that the Reach lords looked to Oberyn with suspicion, but when he began speaking again, all eyes turned to him once more.

"Had things turned out differently on that day, then I'd have spent my life in Winterfell, and been raised as his bastard son by Eddard Stark. The path I'd have found myself walking would have been a much different one, my lords. It was not to be and so while my mother lay dying, while three men of the Kingsguard fought against seven men of the North. I was spirited away and it was Braavos and the House of Black and White that was to be my home." Daemon said looking to the lords and the prince who looked back at him.

"The assassins, your grace?"

"The Faceless Men?"

"For why, your grace? For why would these men seek you out?" Randyll asked to nods from the other lords.

"To ready me for what I needed to do, Lord Tarly. I was a babe alone, the last son of a fallen prince. My blood named me heir to the throne, but how was I to regain that throne? Had I been taken North by my uncle then he'd have never sought to see me crowned, nor even to be told the truth of who I was. Be it for his fears for my safety or for the man he named his brother by choice's continued reign, I know not, and it's not a thread I wish to pull on."

"They trained you?" Mathis asked.

"Extensively. I spent many years honing the skills I'd need to follow my true path. Then two years ago, the truth was finally told to me and that path began. It took me to Vaes Dothrak and my aunt. To the men of the Company of the Rose and a call that had waited many years and to a Mummer's Dragon who named himself my brother and who in truth was the son of a cheesemonger and the nephew of a Eunuch. The last Blackfrye is the face you now see me wear, but it's not my true face." Daemon said as he turned away and when he turned back, he was himself once more.

To say the sight didn't cause some shuffling in their seats or some truly worried looks would be an understatement. He feared the reaction truth be told and it was why he'd not named himself as a servant of the Many-Faced God as well. The Reach Lords in front of him were not just Leal to his house but the seven who are one, after all. Yet no angered words were spoken, no feared ones uttered, and once again it was Randyll Tarly who spoke.

"You have papers that prove you true, your grace?" Randyll asked and Daemon nodded, placing his hand on Jon's when he went to rise to defend him "With you?" Randyll added and Daemon reached down to his pack to take them out.

Each of them read them, Randyll passing them around and Daemon watching them as they did so. Even Oberyn took a glance at them, though he'd told him his truth already and he'd not asked to see them then. When they were finished, it was Mathis who spoke. Daemon listened keenly to his words as he laid out their thoughts as best he could.

"I know not how that thing with faces works, your grace. I'd be a liar if I said it didn't raise some concerns…"

"You would.." Jon said angrily only for Daemon to shake his head and bid him let the Lord of Goldengrove continue.

"But fuck them I say." Mathis said rising to his feet "Your papers name you true, the tale you tell is one that can only be so too. For no tale such as this would be made up to garner our support, on that I think we can all agree." Mathis laughed "I wished for naught more than to name your father my king, your grace. Though the gods decided it was not to be and I never got to bend my knee to him so I could do so. I thank them now for the chance to kneel to his son if he'll have me." Mathis said as he knelt to one knee.

"I welcome your fealty, Lord Rowan." he said rising to his feet.

"You have mine as well, your grace." Lord Ashford said, then Lord Caswell and Lord Mullendore, followed by Lord Oakheart all repeated the words and took a knee, leaving Randyll Tarly the only man other than Prince Oberyn who'd not done so.

"I fought at Ashford, for your father and not for your grandfather. Though I'd named him king and thought of him as such. It was in Prince Rhaegar that I'd put my faith in and I've spent far too many years angered at my liege lord over Storm's End and our failures there when we should have been by his side at the Trident. I'll stand by your side, should you have me, your grace. My fealty is yours if it's so desired."

"Not only, Lord Tarly, for it's much welcomed too." he said, and with that Randyll too knelt.

He caught the smirk on Oberyn's face out of the corner of his eye and heard his chuckle when he motioned with his head to the ground. The prince shook his head and appreciated the jape he believed. After the Lords had risen back to their feet, talk soon turned to King's Landing and he laid out his plans. Before telling them that as far as Varys was concerned it was still the Mummer Dragon that led this army and would need to be so for some little more time.

While they readied for the night's feast, he made his way to the tent and took the face that he needed and then he spent the night supping and celebrating with those who'd brought him a victory that day. Sleep when it came brought him dreams of wolves rolling around beneath a large Weirwood tree and of a soft hand holding his own, of red hair and blue eyes staring at him as his lips moved to hers. Waking the next morning, he broke his fast with Jon, the Serjeants, and the Lords of the Reach, and then spent a little time with the prisoners they'd captured.

"What's to become of us?" Ser Garlan Tyrell asked as he sat over his father's resting place.

"Not much that's good, Ser, I'll not lie. The days of a Tyrell ruling the Reach have come to an end. Yet I've no desire to take your heads or those of your family's and so your suffering will be in status and position and while you'll lose a lot, you'll not lose all. That's more than can be said for others who lost the Battle of the Gold."

"Your word that you'll not seek my family's heads, do I have it?" Garlan asked and while he had no right to and a different king may reprimand him for making such a demand, Daemon understood the lengths a man would go for family and so was far more forgiving.

"You have it, Ser. It's not what I'll seek. Let us hope it's not something I'm forced into either." he said with a nod as he moved to the Lannisters and then to the Lords of the West.

Fewer words were spoken to them than he had shared with Garlan Tyrell. Daemon just informed Kevan and the others that Tywin had fallen and ignored the threats of retribution and the cries that others would make him pay for it. He walked to where his horse was saddled and waiting for him, Jon walking with him and they spoke on the days to come and how soon he'd return. Daemon made it clear that when he did so it would be more than likely not be alone. Then he mounted up, and with the guards that were with him, they headed for Griffin's Roost and the girl and her sister who were there.

Griffin's Roost 300 AC.

Arya Stark.

All through the journey back to Westeros, she'd felt full of both hope and worry. She was told that not only was she finally being brought back, but that she'd be reunited with family, yet not which member of that family it would be. It had made her think that it wouldn't be her sister. So since it was in Harrenhal that she'd heard what had happened to Bran and Rickon, she'd then believed it was to be this other unknown to her member of her family that she'd be brought back to.

They'd told her little of them. Other than they were the reason she'd been taken from Harrenhal and that they were at present bringing vengeance and justice to those who'd harmed her family. So as they sailed, she'd worried that they too would fall and had hoped that not only would they not, but that the gods would finally be good to Arya Stark for once and she'd see her sister too. Little did she know how true that was to turn out to be and when she saw her, her heart stilled for a moment before it began to beat more truly than it had in many years.

She was taller than she remembered, and yet she was the same too. Well not quite. For Arya had never remembered feeling herself being embraced by Sansa in such a way before and had certainly never wished to embrace her sister how tightly she did when given the chance. To know that she lived, that she was safe and well, and that she could just reach out and touch her had been something she only then realized just how much she needed. Seeing the look in Sansa's eyes which told her that she needed it just as much, had filled her with something she'd not been sure she'd ever felt before, love for her sister.

Oh, it was true that she loved her, she had to, she was her sister after all. That love though was tainted by the fact that at times she hated her, wished her to be far from her, and welcomed it when she was. It was not something she was feeling as they embraced, nor as they talked and spoke on what they'd both gone through and then a cousin that neither of them had ever known they had, until recently. Despite the idea of having more kin being appealing and upon hearing that their cousin was at present actually facing off against Tywin Lannister and his army. Something that Sansa seemed very concerned about. Arya needed to know that he was true and not playing them false.

"Do you believe him?" she asked as she lay beside Sansa in her sister's bed, neither of them wishing to be parted this night.

"Daemon is who he says he is, Arya. He came for me. When I was in the Vale I thought I'd found more family with Aunt Lysa and cousin Robin, only to find that there too I was to be used and forced to wed."

"Forced to wed, who forced you to wed?" she asked angrily and then listened as Sansa told her that she'd first been forced to wed the Imp, and was then being forced to wed some lord in the Vale.

Her hand reached out to take Sansa's own and she saw the smile on her sister's face as she allowed her to. Then she bid Sansa continue and listened as she spoke of Daemon Targaryen. Sansa tell her that he was the son of their aunt Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen and how he'd come for her when no one else had. Arya's apologetic words were waved away as Sansa said she knew she'd have come was she able and that she was glad that she'd been far from where she was. Arya frowned for a moment until she heard her sister say that she wished her to be safe and being with her wouldn't have made her so.

They spoke then on their brothers, on their mother and father. The two of them once more embraced and let their tears flow and she felt that Sansa took as much comfort from her arms as she did from Sansa's. Sleep when it came was welcomed. Yet it was waking in the morning and seeing that it had been real, that it wasn't a dream, that was even more so, for both of them.

"We should break our fast." Sansa said as she readied herself for the day, her sister looking just as perfect and pristine as she always did while Arya looked disheveled. Yet there was no reproach in Sansa's words nor in her eyes and they both found themselves caught up in laughter as they walked to one of the halls.

Arya once more asked if she could trust the people whose keep they were staying in and the guards who she'd been told were men of the Golden Company. Sansa told her that they could. The keep it seemed was owned by kin of Daemon's soon to be Hand of King and the men followed Daemon faithfully and truly. She noticed how her sister would smile when she said Daemon's name. How she'd brighten up when Arya asked questions of her about him and unlike when it had been Joffrey who'd brought her that expression, now she enjoyed seeing it. Partly that was because she was happy to see that her sister hadn't completely lost that part of herself. A part that Arya had once thought silly. Partly because if Daemon was as true as Sansa said, then this time her sister's affections at least were pointed in the right direction.

"You slept alright?" she asked Hot Pie and Gendry when she saw them sitting at the table eating their morning meals.

"It was good, the beds are softer than those in the House of Black and White and the food…" Hot Pie said happily.

"You are well, Arry?" Gendry asked and Arya nodded, taking her seat beside her sister as they ate, japed, and forgot that a battle had been fought whose outcome they knew not.

She barely saw Jaqen over the course of the day. He was there, he'd not left but other than briefly in the morning and then once again in the afternoon, and where he was or what he was doing was unknown to her. Gendry had gone to help out in the smiths. While Hot Pie had asked and been allowed to help out with the baking in the kitchen, much to his delight. Arya's too as it left her to spend more time with her sister.

Once again she was surprised by just how much she enjoyed it and the two of them were soon laughing uncontrollably at each other when Sansa brought up how very odd this was. The life they'd known before all that had befallen their family would have never seen them spend this much time in each other's company, lest it was at lessons. Something Arya pointed out and which led to more laughter.

"Which you'd have sought to steal away from." Sansa said shaking her head as she held her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

"And you very much would not." she said barely able to get the words out "ARYA STARK, COME BACK HERE AT ONCE!" she said a moment later, the mummery not quite capturing the Septa's voice but doing so enough for them both to double over as the laughs continued.

Far too soon for either of their liking, thoughts turned to less happy times and when she asked was there a Weirwood here to pray to, she was disappointed to find there was not. She followed when Sansa led her to the Sept and though she felt no connection to the Seven who are One, she joined her sister when they lit a candle to their mother and to the rest of their lost kin. Arya even knelt before the statues when Sansa did and heard the words that her sister said when she knelt in front of the Stranger.

"I beg of you not to take him, to allow him to return unharmed. To take no more of our kin from us and to see Daemon is free from your touch." Sansa said softly almost whispering and so Arya decided to let it seem as if she'd not heard.

It was late afternoon when they noticed the commotion. People were running and taking up positions and guards were readying their arms. She looked worriedly to Sansa and found her sister looked just as she did and yet before their worries could truly take hold, Jaqen appeared once again.

"A girl has nothing to fear and nor does a girl's sister." Jaqen said though it comforted Sansa not.

"How can you be so certain? What if the battle went badly, what if Daemon…"

"Is at the gates." Jaqen said and she, Sansa, and Jaqen moved to them to see them being opened and she heard the loud sigh of relief that came from Sansa at the sight that was presented to them.

There were men wearing gold, just like the ones that Sansa had told her not to fear. Leading them though was a man who'd be Robb's age was her brother living still. He had long dark hair and eyes that reminded her of her own when she looked in the looking glass, or her father's when she'd looked deeply into them. Looking at him was like looking into the past somewhat. Her father, her uncle Benjen. He looked like a Stark, and turning to see Sansa with a smile on her face and then hearing the name she spoke, it named him as one. Be it one who was a dragon too.

"Daemon." Sansa said relieved.

Griffin's Roost 300 AC.

Daemon.

They had ridden fast but not hard. Daemon was both eager to get to the keep and to show he was unharmed. With all his cousin had lost over the years, with all she'd gone through, she needed to know someone was true to their word. The arrival of his other cousin would prove that somewhat, but he knew his own arrival would prove it even more so. It would show that not only was he true, or that she could believe him when he told her something, but that finally those who had harmed her family were paying for doing so.

He felt a sense of accomplishment over that, and not just because he'd removed a name from his mother's list. Had he known the truth of what the Starks had gone through, then he'd have come to Westeros far earlier. If he had been here, then who knows which of them would live still. Could he have saved his uncle? Mayhap not. Not given the foolish things that Eddard Stark did. Confronting the queen with information that would have cost her not only her own head but her children's heads too. Placing his fate in a man such as Littlefinger. No, he doubted that anyone but the Many-Faced God himself could have saved Eddard Stark from his mistakes.

His aunt, his cousin Robb. Them he believed he could have seen safe. The Frey's were easy people for him to reach and though he may not have had any knowledge of the betrayal beforehand, he'd played the game of faces many times and he knew liars when he met them. Though it wouldn't have been the Frey's nor the Bolton's that Daemon would have brought the gift to first. It would have been the man behind the plan, the lion who thought himself above all others. The first name on his mother's list would have been who he'd have sought the moment war was declared and his death would have stopped so many that later came because of him.

"You men rest tonight, eat, drink and make merry for you've deserved it." he said to those who rode with him when the gates of the keep came into view, his thoughts moving from those who were not here to those who very much were.

She was waiting for him when he entered the courtyard. Sansa was wearing not just a relieved look but a happy one too. Beside her stood a smaller, younger girl. One whose hair was brown and whose eyes were grey and while Sansa bore a smile, Arya Stark very much did not. Her look was one of suspicion, doubt, worry even, and it was one he'd need to remove as quickly as possible. A few feet away from them he saw him. Jaqen was blending in with those around him and yet very much not at the same time. With a nod of his head, he was gone and Daemon knew he'd seek him out later. For now, it was time to be with family and to get to know more of it.

"You are unhurt?" Sansa asked with concern.

"I am, our enemies are very much not."

"You won?" Sansa asked hopefully.

"A true and great victory, cousin, one I'll tell you all about should you wish it?" he asked and Sansa nodded as she introduced him to Arya.

"You look like father." Arya said softly.

"I've been told I look much like my mother, cousin, I believe she and your father looked alike as some siblings do." he said and saw how Arya seemed somewhat annoyed by those words. The reason he found out later was that she felt that she looked nothing like her own siblings.

Not that it wasn't already clear were you to see her stand next to her sister. Where Sansa was tall and poised, Arya was very much not. Rather than the vibrant red or sparkling blue eyes that were Tully traits, Arya was very much a Stark and so he'd no doubt that some would compare her far from favorably with her sister in looks. Yet there was a wildness there in his younger cousin's eyes and in Jaqen's letters about her, he'd named her as his mother reborn. If that was true, then in time she'd be beautiful enough to turn a prince's gaze to her. Not that there was one worthy of her.

"We should go inside, I'd like to wash and then we can talk." he said and Sansa looked to Arya and nodded.

It was almost an hour later that he made his way to Sansa's room. He'd washed, changed his clothing, and had even eaten a little. Jon's cousin had come to speak to him, worried about his men eating all their food stocks and he'd told him they'd be leaving on the morrow. After promising him that he'd be reimbursed for all they'd taken, something the man seemed doubtful about, he had then sought Jaqen out only to find him as elusive as ever. No doubt he'd find him before the night was done and in a way, he welcomed it, as he would much prefer to do as he was about to. Arriving at the door, he nodded to the two guards, asked who was inside and then knocked before entering. Both his cousins sat waiting for him and when Sansa went to rise, he bid her remain seated and took his own.

"Before I speak on the battle, I'm here to inform you that we'll be leaving her on the morrow." he said to worried looks "The Lannister and Tyrell army has been defeated. Lord Mace and Ser Garlan Tyrell, the Lords of the Reach who stayed Leal to them rather than to my House are now my prisoners, while those who renewed their oaths are my allies. Lords Tarly, Rowan, Ashford, Mullendore, Caswell, and Oakheart have added their men to mine own and turned their cloaks on House Tyrell."

"Men who turn their cloaks can't be trusted." Arya spat and Daemon withheld the chuckle her words almost forced from him.

"True. But those men swore oaths to my House long before they did to House Tyrell, cousin. Faced with opposing me on a battlefield or renewing oaths they always wished to live by, they held true to those oaths, and men such as those can be trusted. Not to mention I've looked deep into the eyes of those men and I can tell when a lie is being told to me, they lied not." he said as Arya looked at him and went to ask further questions only for Sansa to beat her to it.

"The Lannisters, Daemon?"

"Ser Kevan and most of the Lords of the West are among those being held, while one or two lost their lives. Tywin Lannister among them."

"He's dead?" Sansa asked as Arya moved forward in her seat.

"By mine own hand." he said and was rewarded first by two of the brightest smiles he'd ever seen and then by Sansa jumping from her seat and running across to where he sat.

He. Arya and he'd dare say Sansa herself were stunned by what she did next. His cousin jumped into his lap and wrapped her arms around him, she placed a kiss on his cheek and he barely heard the words she spoke. It took a few moments for her to realize what she'd done and to rise back to her feet embarrassed and he felt the loss of her immediately as she did so. The next few moments were awkward and it took him rising to his feet and taking her hand in his to show her that what she'd done was welcomed and not looked at how she feared.

"I felt the same after he breathed his last." he said holding Sansa's hand and looking to Arya "That man cost us all so much. Had it not been for Tywin Lannister then my brother would be king and my sister would have been wed. Your mother, brother, all you both suffered and lost falls on his shoulders more than any and so you are right to celebrate his death so." he said and was rewarded by a smile and thankful look from Sana and a smirk from Arya that he knew not how to take.

"Will you look North now?" Arya asked.

"I need take King's Landing and end this war for true. Tywin is dead, his army and the army of the Reach are no more, but his grandson sits the throne still. There are still debts to be paid and a city to take before I look elsewhere."

"Debts?" Arya asked curiously.

"The Frey's have paid some of what they owe, cousin, not all of it. Cersei, Pycelle, Varys, and Littlefinger. There are others who owe a debt to the Many-Faced God and while a Lannister may always pay their debts, my god always collects his."

They ate together at the small feast that Jon's cousin threw for them. When Sansa heard that Prince Oberyn and the Dornish army had arrived and joined them and that they'd lost few men in the battle itself, it was as if a huge weight was removed from her shoulders. Later when the music started, he turned to find blue eyes looking at him eagerly.

"Would you honor me with a dance, Sansa?"

"I'd be delighted to, Daemon." she said smiling brightly and it was not just one dance they shared.

When the feast ended, he escorted both his cousins to their respective rooms. Sansa then asked if she could speak to him in his own before she retired for the night. Daemon felt the difference in his walk alone with Sansa. A difference in how he looked upon her and how he felt being by her side than he had just moments earlier when his other cousin was with them. So much so that when they arrived at his room, things were awkward for a moment until Sansa spoke.

"Will it be a large battle to take the city?" Sansa asked worriedly.

"Far from it." he replied confidently.

"But how? I don't understand. Cersei and the Tyrells won't just give up, Daemon. I know her, she'll fight to the bitter end. She'll never accept you're to be king, Daemon, never." Sansa said and Daemon turned from her before hearing her gasp when he turned back to face her again.

"A lion doesn't concern himself with the opinions of a sheep." he said to another bright and true smile.

Later, as he walked the battlements and found him looking out over them, his thoughts turned to the events of the night. He and his cousin had danced more than once and how he'd not kissed her as they'd done so, he knew not. His other cousin had refused him when he'd asked, but Arya it seemed was growing more and more comfortable around him now that she'd met him and heard his tale from his own lips. Daemon felt too that just knowing he was bringing death to those who'd harmed her family had made him a friend for life in his younger cousin. As for his older one, the kiss she'd placed on his lips after he'd left her back to her room showed that it wasn't his friend she wished to be. Daemon now found that as much as he tried to stop them, his own thoughts kept going to places they'd not ever before.

"A man has a message for a fellow servant of the Many-Faced God" Jaqen said as Daemon reached him.

"From the Kindly Man?" he asked and Jaqen shook his head "From the God of Death?" he added only to see Jaqen smirk.

"No. Our god only bid me come and do what is needed. A message is from the North. A boy thought dead has been found and is being brought to a harbor of white, both he and his wolf." Jaqen said handing Daemon a raven's scroll.

Rickon Lived. Which meant that there was a good chance that Brandon Stark, his other cousin, lived too. The Company of the Rose had found Rickon alive and well on Skagos. Daemon's words to them about finding a true wolf to rule the North were now mixed with his thoughts of how Arya and especially Sansa would take the news. Only for Jaqen's words to bring his mind to other thoughts instead.

"What orders do you have for a man?" Jaqen asked and Daemon turned to him.

"A name, a name that's owed to the Many-Faced God and yet not one I wish you to bring the gift to."

"What name?"

"Varys Blackfrye." he said.

"Valar Morghullis."

"Valar Dohaeris."

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed, I'm stuck at work and far busier than I wish so the reviews will take me more time to get to. Up Next, Varys arrives back in King's Landing, Tyrion helps Jaime ready defenses and an escape plan while in the North, Stannis' march faces trouble and the Company of the Rose bring more allies to Daemon's cause. While at the Wall an old woman speaks words of prophecy and an old man begins to see things once more. We also take a look at more of Daemon's time with Dany.

For those who follow my other fics, My Brother's Keeper won't update today and will update next week. While Winter King and Aemon the Dragonknight will update this week, hopefully along with Purple Deception.