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.

9. A Mummer's Siege

White Harbor 300 AC.

Wyman Manderly.

The last few moons had brought him a multitude of surprises, all of them being ones that he most appreciated. He'd gone from being ready to shame himself and his House so that his son and heir was released back to him, to finding out that those who claimed to be holding Wylis were liars as well as the scum he'd named them as. From the depths of despair and worry to the height of relief and joy when he'd stood no more than a foot away from his son for the first time in two years. Wyman had gone from fearing the North and the Starks to be lost forever to finding there was indeed hope for both. From wondering how anyone could stand up to the Boltons or Stannis Baratheon to now being almost being able to picture their defeat.

He'd thought himself alone and abandoned only to find there were still Leal men and women in the North, and had mourned a friend only to see him not only freed but supping in his halls. To his mind vengeance and justice were things that the North would never know and so he'd considered them to be out of reach, only to find they were closer to hand than he'd at first believed. A son of a woman that all had thought had died alone had not only come back to pay back all those who'd harmed his mother's House, but had set about reuniting the last remaining members of that house too. Firstly by seeing that Arya Stark was rescued, and then according to the men of the Company of the Rose by doing the same for Sansa Stark too. And now finally this.

As he looked at the young lad in front of him, Wyman felt that his auburn hair and blue eyes named him more a fish than a wolf, and yet the wildness in those blue eyes was pure wolf. As if that was not enough to name him as who he truly was, then the large black Direwolf that bore that self-same wild look in its green eyes and with how closely it stuck to the young boy's side would wash away any doubts that it was indeed Rickon Stark that he was looking at. The last remaining son of Ned Stark as far as anyone knew, though given he'd believed all the remaining Stark children to be dead already, mayhap not. This was his liege lord, the future Lord of Winterfell and the rightful Warden of the North, and just looking at him made Wyman's knee ache to bend once more.

"My Lord," he said as he moved toward the young boy, ready to swear his oath once more.

The sound of the Direwolf growling stopped him in his tracks and it was the fierce-looking woman that stood closest of all to Rickon Stark that calmed it and the boy himself down. Whether she was from Skagos or further afield he hadn't yet ascertained, but it was clear that she'd played some role in Rickon Stark's survival and that he trusted her completely. It was clear too that he as of yet did not trust him and so Wyman moved back a step or two.

"Remember, little lord, the men from the sea we spoke of?"

"A squid, he's a squid." Rickon declared angrily and the Direwolf's growls grew louder in response.

"No, a Merman." the woman said, and almost instantly both the boy and the wolf calmed again.

"From the white city." Rickon Stark said and the woman nodded.

He looked at them both once more and saw there was almost a motherly aspect to the woman's way of dealing with Rickon Stark. Given that it was over two years since the boy had last seen his mother and he'd never see her again, Wyman hoped he took as much comfort from the bond he'd forged with this woman as he could.

"My lord, White Harbor and its Lord are yours to command. We are Leal to your House above all others and you are safe here." he said and Rickon looked first to the woman who nodded and then to Brandon Snow who too made it clear that Wyman spoke the truth "Mayhap you'd like to see your rooms and take some food?"

"Aye, the little lord could do with eating."

"I'm not hungry, Osha." Rickon Stark said shaking his head.

"Aye, and neither is Shaggydog, come, little lord, lets see what they can make in a true kitchen."

With a look to Brandon Snow, Osha, Rickon Stark, and the Direwolf who'd now been named as Shaggydog, a name that could only have been given by a young boy, along with two men of the Company of the Rose all left the room. It now left Wyman alone with Brandon Snow and he had more questions than he knew how to ask.

"The boy trusts few, Lord Wyman, I'd not take it as an offence." Brandon Snow said as Wyman sent out for some ale and food.

"What?" he asked before the words registered and he waved them away as offended was the last thing he was "The Woman?"

"Osha, a Wildling. Apparently, a few years ago she and some others crossed the Wall to make their way south. They had a run-in with Brandon Stark and tried to take the young lad as a hostage only for his brother and Theon Greyjoy to face them down." Brandon began and Wyman almost snarled at the mention of the turn cloak "Osha was taken prisoner and when Winterfell was taken by the Ironborn, she helped the two young lords escape. Then she, the lords, and Lord Reed's children made their way North and eventually split up. She and Rickon went to Skagos, while Brandon Stark and the Reed's headed to the Wall."

"The Wall? Why?" he asked curiously only for Brandon Snow to shake his head.

"I know not. Though it does suggest that there is a chance that Brandon Stark lives still."

Wyman found himself considering it. Young Brandon had lost the use of his legs and while an older son, he was a cripple and mayhaps unable to bring forth an heir. If he lived still, something that he'd have named as impossible just moons ago, but now named as very much not, then it would possibly still be his brother that the North sought to name as Lord. He'd have to speak to the other Lords and Ladies of the North, come to know their minds on it, and he may have been on the verge of acting too rashly.

"What now, Brandon?" he asked.

"We bring the lad to his sisters, Lord Wyman, to his cousin."

"The North?"

"Is not yet safe for a son of Stark, and not for that one especially. Daemon Targaryen will arrive here soon enough and once he deals with those in the South, then he'll see the North is put to rights. Waiting until then is mayhap for the best. Though I know how hard waiting can be."

He looked to the taller and more muscled man, considered his words carefully, and while he liked it not that another Stark was heading south, he could find no true fault in those words. Wyman was glad though that it was not to be for another few days yet that Rickon Stark would be leaving his halls and over those days he tried to get the lad to trust him somewhat. Something that while it took some time, he did actually manage.

It was his granddaughters first though that the young Stark accepted as being on his side. His Direwolf and how it acted around both Wylla and Wynafryd that allowed him to look to Wyman and Wylis and the rest of those in White Harbor as allies and not enemies. There was another bonus to it taking some time too, as word soon arrived of events that almost had him throwing large feasts to celebrate. Stannis Baratheon had marched on Winterfell and had been defeated. Something that may have given him pause had things not changed so dramatically in the North. A Stag was better than a Flayed Man to Wyman's mind and yet neither were as good as Wolves and even Dragons, he was now surprised to say.

When news came from the Stormlands of the Golden Company's victory, Wyman had at first believed it to be a mummery. The scale and the scope of it were too much for him to take on face value when Brandon Snow named it so. Soon though it was clear it was indeed true. If that was not news enough to bring him good cheer, then the raven that said the Golden Company now marched on King's Landing, had been. As it had born even better and truer news and it was news that he needed to share with his son and granddaughters. So Wyman had them sent for and they soon joined him in is solar where he informed them of Tywin Lannister's death.

"He killed him by his own hands, father?" Wylis asked.

"Aye, he did. Just as with the Mountain, he paid back a debt owed by his House to those who'd taken his brother and sister and their mother from this world. I received word from not only Brandon Snow that this was so, but a raven from Lord Jon Connington informing me of it too."

"Jon Connington lives," Wylis said shocked.

"He does and serves the dragons once more," he said smiling.

"With Tywin Lannister dead is not the war in the South over?" Wynafryd asked and Wyman shook his head.

"Almost. King's Landing would need fall for it to be so, but given all he's done since he's arrived here, I doubt it'll find itself a match for the Dragonwolf that marches to its gates," he said happily.

Two days later, he watched as Rickon Stark and Osha along with Shaggydog, and some men of the Company of the Rose as well as some of his own boarded the ship to set sail for King's Landing. Or close enough to it so it made no never mind. The boy had come to trust him somewhat, calmed somewhat, yet was still as fierce as ever and he bore a smile on his face that was far more present now that he was traveling to see his sisters once more. When next he saw him, his knee would indeed bend, of that he had no doubt. Whether it was just a liege lord that he'd be naming or a king too, he knew not. Though he expected it would be both and that a dragon would be arriving with the wolf when he returned.

He was sad to see him go to be truthful. Wyman had welcomed having him in his halls and though he understood it was still not safe for him to be in the North for true, it didn't stop him from wishing that was so. As he walked back to the New Castle, he was stopped and handed a note by Brandon Snow, a note that soon had him smiling broadly. It was time for him to ride to a meeting, a meeting of the true men and women of the North, a meeting with those he'd given up for dead, and with a man who he'd not seen in years. Howland Reed had much to speak to him on and Wyman found he was all ears and most ready to listen.

The Kingswood 300 AC.

Sansa.

She laughed loudly, far more truly than she had in some time and for far longer too. So much did she do so that tears began to fall from her eyes and when she felt his hand in her own, she welcomed the soft handkerchief he'd placed in it. Wiping her eyes and trying to look sternly at him, she knew she failed completely when he rolled his own eyes and then turned to her sister. Arya was soon laughing just as loudly and as truly as Sansa had been but a moment earlier.

They rode with Prince Oberyn and his daughters. Sansa was stunned to find out that they were all bastard girls and yet not one of them carried any shame or stain because of it. Not one of them seemed lesser and though as different from each other as she and Arya at times were, they were clearly sisters too. The prince was a man full of good cheer and humor and he and Daemon spoke to each other as if they were true friends, which had surprised her too. Only for Daemon to explain they were kin through his brother and sister and he'd given Prince Oberyn more justice in these past few moons than the man had known in years.

As they rode, the prince would make witty comments and while Daemon was usually serious to a fault, other than at private times with her, he was less so when in Oberyn's company. He'd jape back, make certain remarks that brought a smile to her face or a giggle from her lips, and occasionally, he'd make her lose control as he had just done. She couldn't even remember what it was that he'd said that had made her laugh so truly, only that he'd stuck his tongue out at her and then she'd been lost. Now as she felt more composed, her thoughts turned to his tongue in a much different fashion and she found herself wishing it was brushing against her own. Something that she believed Daemon not only wished for too, but had figured out she was thinking of as well.

"How much further until we camp? Arya asked.

"An hour, two, or should we reach a decent stream before then," Daemon said, and then she and her sister both were disappointed when one of the Serjeants from the Golden Company rode up and whispered something in Daemon's ear.

"If you'll forgive me, my prince. cousin." Daemon said looking first to Oberyn and then to her and Arya before he then rode off with the Serjeant.

Sansa watched him as he rode off. Her eyes were only on him and so obvious was she in doing so, that she couldn't or wouldn't deny it when Nymeria Sand named it so. While she and Daemon were to her mind discreet when they shared their affections, they were very much not at times too. True enough they shared no kisses or touches when with others, but looks, glances, warm words, and the countless other things men and women did when they were attracted to each other, those were out of her control and even Daemon himself wasn't a good enough mummer to hide how he felt.

"Is it more than just a wish to share his bed, Sansa dear?" Nymeria had asked her one night.

"I don't…."

"No, of course, you don't," Nymeria said knowingly.

There had been no teasing in the words, just an acknowledgment that Nymeria was well aware that there was something between Sansa and Daemon. In a way she had mayhap made Sansa herself acknowledge the depths of what that something was. It was far more than a crush or silly infatuation. Far more than she'd felt for Joffrey when she had thought him true or Loras Tyrell when she'd thought him to be the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

Was it love?

Is this how it felt to love someone?

Was it lust?

And was it sinful?

She couldn't rightly answer the first two, though more and more she was starting to think that it could very well be so. As for the third, she'd not deny that she'd had such thoughts about Daemon or that she'd had some dreams of him that had left her flushed and breathless. One that was a different version of the wedding night she'd shared with a man she'd thought to be Harrold Hardyng. Memories that both of them had been unclothed in the same room at the same time that when she thought of them, sent a shiver through her body.

As for the last one, that one she could answer and the answer was no it was very much not. Nothing that made her feel this way could be so. As the Sand Snakes talked to Arya, and while Prince Oberyn spoke to his former squire, Sansa let the thoughts that soon they'd be setting up camp, eating their meal, and at some point, she and Daemon would steal off together to share some time alone, be all that she thought about. It made the day pass quickly and before she knew it, Daemon was back riding with them. Then his hands were on her hips and his eyes were looking deeply into her own as he helped her down from her horse.

After they'd eaten their meal, Daemon had to spend some time speaking to the men of the Golden Company and so she spent time with her sister. Both of them were eager to see King's Landing fall. For not only would it provide them an extra layer of security and safety, but once the city had been taken, they'd then see their brother once more. Something both of them were equally keen on. Knowing that they had more of their family out there, that Rickon lived which in turn meant that Bran possibly lived too, had been something that they'd welcomed greatly. Now just as it had been for her when Daemon told her he was talking her to see her sister, that same feeling of hope welled up in both their chests.

"I had not thought to see that city again," Arya said as they sat together.

"Nor me. I had prayed to the Seven to make it so I'd not do so after I arrived in the Vale."

"Does it…are you?"

"Arya?"

"Do you feel fearful going back?" Arya asked.

"No, not now," she said as Daemon arrived back.

Her sister looked from her to Daemon and Sansa caught the little smirk on Arya's face. She'd not spoken to her regarding how she felt about their cousin as of yet, but Arya had always been far more astute than her in noticing things around her and the true nature of people. Right from the very first time they'd met him, Arya had known the truth of Joffrey and while at first, she'd been wary with Daemon, she'd soon made it clear that she thought him true. As he took his seat beside them, Sansa wished for the night to come to an end and then found it was to be much earlier than she'd expected that she and Daemon got to spend time alone together.

"Cousin, would you walk with me. I've to go and see to the elephants before the night is done." Daemon said and how she kept herself from smiling, she knew not. More so when Arya looked at her and winked. Her sister showed most clearly that she needed not to be told there was something between Sansa and Daemon. It relieved her that Arya already knew and mayhap even that she approved.

"I'd be delighted to, cousin," she answered happily.

He took her hand to help her to her feet and then offered her his arm which she took. For once Sansa cared not about how it may look or whether it was proper for them to be so close. That no one else seemed to think it improper was something too she found that she cared little about, as more and more it was her own feelings that she resolved to pay attention to. Daemon to her surprise did indeed lead her to the elephants and she watched as he seemed to check over them before he then led her to the nearby stream.

Above them in the sky, the moon was full and the light from the stars reflected off the water of the stream. Daemon drew her attention to first the one and then the other and she thought it to be one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever seen. Then she thought of little other than him as he moved to her, placed his hands on her hips and drew her closer. Her eyes were now focussed only on his and the look he was giving her in return, sent a flutter down to her stomach. One that was joined quickly by another when she felt his hand move to her face and touch her cheek. His fingers brushed softly over it and made her lean into his touch.

"I find I lose myself when with you, Sansa." Daemon said softly "I find I care not that I do." he added as he moved closer to her and then she felt his lips against her own.

The kiss was soft and gently, a mere brushing of the lips before then it was something much more true. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she felt his hands against her back as he pulled her more tightly towards him. It was her tongue that found his first. She who increased the passion of the kiss and turned it into one that neither wished to break away from. Were it not for the need to take a breath, then who knows how long that single kiss would have lasted. Yet breathe they must. So after a few moments they parted, both of them drawing in much-needed air to their lungs before they were then kissing just as passionately once more.

"Daemon I…" she said sometime later as they almost got carried away, the kisses having moved to touches and it wasn't only his hands that had been exploring.

"As do I…But not like this…not here and not unwed."

She gasped loudly, her eyes looking deep into his own and they begged him to ask the question. There would be no need for her to even think about her response, it was already on the tip of her tongue and all he needed to do was ask for her hand. Yet he did not, he hesitated and the moment soon passed. Disappointed though she was when he led her back to her tent, she felt that it was not because he wished it not that he'd not asked her to be his wife, but because of what they still needed to do. As he bid her goodnight and kissed her softly before leaving her alone, she found that she now had an even bigger reason for why she wished to see King's Landing fall.

King's Landing 300 AC.

Jon Connington.

He had watched the growing relationship between Daemon and Sansa Stark with a keen eye. His king was different when he was with the young woman, much happier and far less reserved. Jon though looked at it not with the eyes of a man who wished his king to be happy, though he very much did, but with the eyes of the Hand of that king. Alliances were built on marriage, it was the way of things in Westeros and once Daemon sat on the throne, he'd need to be wed. Not just for an alliance either. As the realm and House Targaryen even more so, needed heirs.

Had things been different, then it would have been to House Tyrell that he'd have bid Daemon look. Though he'd not forgiven them for besieging a keep rather than marching to the Trident. Jon would have put that aside had they but stayed neutral in the wars that occurred before Daemon and he had arrived in Westeros. He could even forgive them somewhat for wedding their Golden Rose to Renly Baratheon. Although it had left a bitter taste in his mouth that they'd married into the House of the Stag. Marrying into the Lannisters was as unforgivable to Jon as bearing arms against a son of Rhaegar Targaryen however and so the Tyrells would never be gifted a crown. Which in turn had led Jon to look elsewhere.

The Vale had few ladies of the required status. Lord Royce had a daughter, though he believed she was wed, and there were few if any ladies of an age that were not already taken. Dorne had Princess Arianne and Daemon wedding her would go a long way to making them forgive or forget any slights they may feel given who his mother was. Yet Doran was not a man that Jon wished too close to the throne and truth be told, he feared for Daemon's life were he to wed into House Martell. He'd looked to both the Riverlands and Stormlands and found there to be no one without looking to the lesser houses. While the West would not be the same when they were done punishing it. So it was left to the Reach or the North and for the latter, the best match was the lady that his king seemed to be enamoured with.

Thinking on the Reach had led him to again few ladies of an age that weren't already wed. There was a daughter of House Redwyne of age, but she was Olenna Tyrell's granddaughter and so it could not be. Randyll Tarly had a daughter too, though Jon knew little about her and so in the end, it seemed fate, the gods, or some force that Jon couldn't explain, had all wished for Daemon to trod the path his father once had and to be wed to a Wolf. Given that Sansa Stark did have ties to three of the seven kingdoms, and that there was certainly affection and attraction there, it was mayhap the best and only match that could be made. Resolving to speak to Daemon to find out his true thoughts on his cousin, Jon then turned his thoughts to the siege to come and it was as he was looking at the map of King's Landing that he was joined by his king.

"I had hoped you'd not yet be abed," Daemon said as he entered the tent.

"A Hand's work is never done, your grace," Jon replied as Daemon took a seat and looked at the map.

"You do know it's not a true siege, Jon? Nor a full-on assault that will take the city for us."

"I'd rather it was," he said almost under his breath.

"Sieges are costly, Jon. Men on both sides fall and the people stuck behind the walls suffer most of all. You know the tales of Stannis Baratheon and those at Storm's End? What they were like when my uncle finally lifted the siege?"

He knew the tales well. Like walking dead men they'd been according to all reports. Men who were little more than skin and bones and had it not been for the Onion Knight, then the gods only knew what they'd have been forced to resort to in order to survive. So he knew what his king wished to avoid and yet for Jon it was Daemon's own plans that he wished to see discarded.

"We could storm all seven gates at once, your grace. We have the men," he said almost pleadingly.

"That we do, but how many would we lose Jon? Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid to send men to their deaths if need be. There is just no need to do so."

"When do you leave?" he then asked resignedly.

"We're a few days from King's Landing are we not?" Daemon asked and he nodded "Then when night falls on the morrow."

"You'll take the men I suggested?"

"I will. Come, Jon, cheer up, we're less than a week away from ending the war in the South."

"And then you'll head North?" he asked to a nod of Daemon's head.

That was another thing that he was against and another thing he'd been overruled on. While he was pleased and somewhat proud that Daemon both took his advice and ignored it at times, he at times wished he'd only do the former. Especially when it came to putting himself in danger. Jon knew that he was capable and all he'd done so far should make him have few worries. Yet the closer they got to seeing Rhaegar's son sit on the Iron Throne, the more fearful he became that something was lying in wait to break his heart once more.

"Your cousin, Daemon," he said after they'd stopped their talk of war and sieges, plans and plots.

"What of her?" Daemon asked defensively.

"Your plans for her, for the North, for the future."

"Are ever-changing, Jon. Now we both need to go to our beds, there is much to do on the morrow."

With that, their night was done. Daemon patted him on the shoulder before leaving his tent and Jon did his best to try and get some rest, finally managing a few hours which helped keep him alert the next day. He broke his fast with the Serjeants of the Golden Company. Gorys he'd set the task of looking through the lands that required or would require new lords and to who best in the Golden Company that they could name as those lords.

There may need to be weddings too, and they'd not as of yet firmed up their plans for those who'd be losing their holdings nor what punishments would be imposed on those who'd fought against Daemon. He'd been asked for a list of what he suggested for both rewards and punishments, but given no hint as to how harsh or punitive the latter were to be. Some he needed no guidance on and the West, in particular, would pay greatly for their actions. Not just in the battle against them, but in the War of the Five Kings and in the Sack of King's Landing too. The Lannisters and their vassals all had much to pay for.

As they marched, each hour brought him closer to having to watch Daemon ride off and head into danger once more and Jon felt his worries increase as night began to fall. When the time was finally upon him, he tried once again to convince his king that there was another simpler and just as effective way, only to find that Daemon's mind was made up. He watched as Daemon and men of the Golden Company, House Tarly and House Rowan rode off and as he turned to see Sansa Stark's worried expression, he did his best to make her feel less fearful than he himself was.

"We shall see him again soon, Lady Sansa, of that I have no doubt," Jon said hoping his words carried the weight he'd given them.

"I shall pray that it is so, Lord Connington."

Walking back to his tent, he offered his own prayers that what Daemon had set off to do would go as he hoped it would and that he'd not harm one hair on his head in doing so.

King's Landing 300 AC.

Olenna Tyrell.

The longer they went without hearing news from the battle, the more Olenna began to grow worried. She was not militarily inclined, had not studied tactics or warfare, and had left that to her son, children, and others. Though in Mace's regard that had been a mistake as he had learned little if anything from his studies with various Maesters. Garlan had studied war extensively and while she knew that he was needed at the battle itself, now she wished he was instead by her side so that he could assure her that things would go how she expected. Without him, it was left to those she didn't trust to offer her that reassurance and thus far they'd done a terrible job in doing so.

So when Tyrion Lannister had come to her about the city's defenses, Olenna had left it in his hands to see to them, him and his brother. Only to find out it was more Margaery's interference with Tommen that Tyrion sought. Hearing him complain about his sister's stupidity had at least taken her mind off the battle being fought far from King's Landing and had proved everything she'd known about Cersei Lannister. The woman was and always would be a spoiled and petulant child and such people were easy for Olenna to manage.

She'd tasked both Left and Right to see to their own defenses and had come up with a way out of the city should the very worst come to pass, not that she believed it would. Still, it was far better to have a backup plan ready to be initiated and end up not needing it than to need to seek one in a panic. With all that done, the waiting began anew and so she turned her mind to her plans for the future. At some point, the Old Lion would need to fall, for he could not be allowed to outlive her. Cersei too would need to be dealt with as would Tyrion, for the Imp was far too clever for his own good. In an ideal world, Tywin would fall in a battle that they won comprehensively. Yet she feared that were Tywin Lannister to fall in battle then it would be because they'd been defeated and not because they were victorious.

Jaime and Tommen Lannister could both be allowed to live as both were malleable. Though she may need to do something about Myrcella in time. As for those at Casterly Rock itself. Once she was rid of Tyrion and with his brother wearing the white cloak, it would fall to either Myrcella or one of Kevan or Genna Lannister's boys to rule over. She knew little of the other Lannister children apart from Kevan's son Lancel who was a fool, so Olenna now made a note to find out as much as she could about the potential future heirs of the Rock. Then set about with the rest of her daily business. It was as she was readying herself to go and meet with Margaery that her day took a turn for he worst.

"What do you mean they've been defeated," she said incredulously to the rider who had made his way to her rooms.

"The battle was a rout, my lady. We were defeated completely. I was tasked with bringing you the news and so I've ridden hard from the field."

She looked at the dirt-covered man, his clothes and he himself smelt terrible and it was clear he'd done as he'd just said he had. They had lost, the Golden Company had prevailed and they now marched towards them what fate had befallen her son and grandson, Olenna knew not. It was Left or Right who asked the questions that she could not bring herself to utter. Then Margaery added even more after she had joined them when one of Olenna's giant guards had sent for her. Olenna then felt her arm be taken and she was led back to her room. Where it then took her some time to even notice that it was her granddaughter who'd done so.

"What are we to do, grandmother?" Margaery asked after she'd made her drink down some water, Olenna finding to her horror that she had no reply to give "Grandmother, please…you must. Without you were are lost completely." Margaery said worriedly.

Those words hit home, though it may have been the worried tone the words were spoken in that truly did so. Olenna sent for Left and Right and bid them make sure that their escape plan was still open to them, then she bid Margaery tell her husband to call a meeting of the Small Council. After a kiss on her cheek, her granddaughter left her alone with her thoughts and they were far from pleasant. She needed more news, more information, because the truth of things was they were now completely and utterly fucked.

Could they negotiate with the Golden Company?

Was there a way to buy their freedom and keep their position?

Would their heads be sought as well as their coin and lands?

Olenna had no answers to those questions and was still pondering upon them when she made her way to the Small Council meeting. She and Margaery along with Tommen were the first to arrive and when Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion Lannister made their way into the room it was clear they'd not heard the news that she had. For the briefest of moments, Olenna began to believe that the news was false, only to dismiss that as a foolish hope very quickly. After Pycelle shuffled in and took his seat and then Varys took his own, it was Margaery rather than Olenna who broke the news.

"A rider from our camp made his way to my grandmother, our armies have been defeated completely," Margaery said shakily.

"LIES! LIES! No army can beat my father's." Cersei exclaimed.

"Tell that to Robb Stark, my dear sister." Tyrion retorted before looking to first her and then Margaery "You believe this to be true?" he asked her rather than her granddaughter.

"I see no sense in it being a mummery. So much though I wish not to, yes I believe it to be true."

"Fuck." Jaime Lannister said before Tyrion turned to Varys.

"You've heard nothing?" he asked to a shake of Varys' head.

"Not as of yet, I'd not even expected the battle to be fought for a few days at least," Varys said and she was just about to ask her own questions when there was some commotion at the door.

Her initial instinct was one shared by almost everyone else in the room and she saw that even Cersei had lost her arrogant expression and was now looking as fearful as she should be. It turned out to be one of the Kingsguard along with Left or Right who then came in through the door and when it was clear that it wasn't fighting that was occurring outside of it, she was not the only one that breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Lord Tywin rides for the Red Keep, my lady." her giant guard said as the Kingsguard spoke the same words to the Lannisters.

Despite feeling they'd be best served in waiting here for Tywin to make his way to them, she had to know if Mace and Garlan lived still and so she rose to her feet and moved to the door. Margaery, Tommen, Jaime and Cersei, and finally Tyrion and Varys all did likewise. Yet none moved as quickly as Pycelle. The Grandmaester was in such haste to see that the man he truly served lived still, that he forgot his mummery, and were things not so dire, it may have been spoken of. Instead, they rushed to the courtyard and arrived to find Tywin Lannister standing there and looking just as the rider who'd broken the news to her had looked. He too had ridden hard and yet listening to him bark orders, watching as he took control, Olenna felt relieved somewhat.

Later that night as she and Margaery sat together in the Sept and offered up prayers for their family, she began to consider her plans once more. Had Tywin not arrived, then she'd have taken her granddaughter from this city already. They'd have set sail for Oldtown and then for Highgarden and it would be from there that she'd plan her next moves. Now she was not so sure if that was the way to play this particular game, or even if there was an actual game for her to play. Lighting a candle to the Father to keep her son and grandson safe, she began to consider ransom and just how much coin it would cost her to save them both. Looking to Margaery, she began to consider something else, the one thing that Tywin Lannister had said that gave her some hope for the future. For a king needed a queen did he not?

King's Landing 300 AC.

Varys.

(Before the Small Council meeting and Tywin's arrival)

Word had reached him early of the victory and he'd allowed himself a glass of wine as a way of celebrating it. Aegon had proved all his confidence was not for nothing. He'd shown that his plans were sound and while Varys would have had him wait until a more opportune time before invading Westeros, on this his nephew was more in the right than he. The Golden Company had indeed been joined by Dorne under Prince Oberyn's leadership and together they'd put the Lions and the Roses to the sword.

Mace and Garlan Tyrell, Kevan Lannister, most of the Lords of the West, and any of the Lords of the Reach who'd not renewed their oaths, were now held as prisoners and Tywin Lannister was lost and presumed dead. All but the last of those things were reason enough to celebrate. Though even the last of them wasn't as big a problem as it may once have been. With his army defeated and broken, with his lords and brother all being held by them, even if he did manage to survive, then Tywin was still very much done for. Now all Varys needed was for the army to arrive and the siege to begin. Then he would play his part in bringing this city under his nephew's control just as he had in bringing the Reach Lords to Aegon's side.

Laying down in his bed, he drifted off to sleep and dreamt of days long since past. He and Serra when they were young and he was still a man. Meeting Illyrio for the first time when both were young and thin and Illyrio was as fierce with a blade in hand as any man he'd ever known. Coming to Westeros and serving a usurper whose family had stolen what was their rightful crown. Helping to fuel Aerys' madness. Finding out he was an uncle and holding Aegon in his arms for the first time. His sister's smiling face as he, Serra, and Illyrio adapted their plans and made it so that it was Aegon and not Serra who'd sit on the throne. His dreams were full of all of this and more.

He awoke to find that he'd shed tears at some point during his dreams and he wondered why that was. When he felt them come again, he actually wept for the first time since his sister had died. The first true tears he'd let fall in more than five and ten years. Wiping his eyes, he dressed and readied for the day and though it took him far longer to compose himself and put on his mummer's face, eventually he managed it and was soon busy with his work. The news then came that at first made him rejoice, then confused him, and finally made him question his little bird's usefulness. Tywin was dead, he'd escaped or he rode for King's Landing, he'd fallen to Aegon's blade or he had not, the stories were contradictory and so none could be believed completely. As he was reading yet another different version of the battle and its aftermath, word came that he was to attend a Small Council meeting and he wondered had the news finally reached the Lions or the Roses regarding their defeat. Though he wore no smile as he walked, he was smiling when he entered the Small Council chambers. A hidden smile that was shown only to himself.

(After the Small Council Meeting and Tywin's arrival)

He lived.

He'd survived.

He'd run like a craven from a battle that had ended his army and he still lived to provide one last obstacle for Aegon to overcome.

Varys had listened to Tywin explain what had happened at the battle. How the Golden Company had been joined by those traitorous dogs from Dorne and how the Reach Lords had turned their cloaks and joined the other side. If looks could kill, then Olenna and Margaery Tyrell would be dead already. As Tywin had glared often at them both when he spoke. How Varys didn't break out in laughter when Tywin brought up Aegon, he knew not. The looks of shock on all the faces in the room and the mumbled words of "It cannot be so" by Pycelle had amused him greatly. Even Tyrion had been taken completely by surprise and Varys wished his nephew could be hear to see them struggle to make sense of it all.

When his own opinion was asked, he played his part well. He named it as a mummery of sorts. He said that it couldn't be true as he, Jaime Lannister, and Tywin along with Pycelle had seen Aegon's corpse. It was Tyrion who brought up what Varys had sold to Jon Connington as the truth all those years ago. How a babe was easy to be stolen away from the Red Keep and how Aegon's body had been unrecognisable where Elia and Rhaenys' had not. Varys just sat and listened and added only small titbits to the tale to make Tyrion's words seem to be the truth.

"It matters not. True or not, the Golden Company, the Lords of the Reach…" Tywin glared at Olenna once more before continuing "And Dorne all believe him to be true and the rest of the realm will too in time."

"Then what do you propose, Lord Tywin?" Olenna asked as she looked at the broken lion "That we run? That we kneel and beg forgiveness? For while there may be a chance of some for me. There won't be any for you."

"I seek no forgiveness, Lady Olenna, I care not what a Dragon, be he mummer or not thinks of me. We defend this city and force a parley and hear their terms, that is our plan. Tyrion, Jaime the defenses?"

He listened as Tyrion spoke about the defenses and his confidence in them, something he did his best to project even though Varys knew that he believed it not. Olenna spent as much time looking to Margaery as she did listening to the Lannisters speak of a battle that they could not win. Her mind was thinking of a match no doubt and once again Varys felt it hard not to laugh out loud. Not only would one not be forthcoming because they had stood against his nephew, but Aegon had other plans and a different bride in mind. Again his nephew proved he'd learned the lessons that he, Illyrio, and Serra had all hoped he would.

Later that night, they ate a meal that was almost a feast and though questions were asked about Tywin Lannister's return and what it meant, none spoke those questions too loudly. He set his little birds to shadow Tywin and the other Lannisters, as well as Olenna, Margaery, and anyone connected with the Tyrells. Any news from inside the city was now far more valuable to Aegon's cause than news from outside of it. Proud as a lion he may be, but Tywin Lannister was no fool and that horseshit he'd spouted about a parley was certainly not his true intent. Varys knew full well of Tyrion's escape plan as he did of Olenna's and were he to wager in it, then he'd wager that the Lannisters would seek to leave the city before Aegon's army arrived.

After the meal was over and done with, he made his way to speak to some of his little birds. Word was sent to Aegon about Tywin's return and what Varys believed his true plans to be. He sent word too about Olenna and that given that Aegon held her son and grandson and that Olenna was a player of the game and not a soldier, there was room to do some sort of deal with the Tyrells should his nephew wish it. There would be no marriage, he knew that, and the chances of them staying as Warden was slim, yet there were advantages to that too. It was better for now to keep their options open when it came to the Tyrells was what Varys' message would relay. Once he was satisfied that he could do no more, he made his way to his rooms and was surprised to find that one of his little birds awaited him when he got there.

"Run along now, and keep to the shadows for the next few days," he said after he'd given the child some coppers and a candied fruit.

Varys opened the note and read the words, shaking his head as he did so. Another tale of Tywin Lannister's death at Aegon's hands, another wasted song. As he was placing the note on the table, he felt a shiver run down his spine and it forced him to look at it again.

Death by Aegon's hands.

Stabbed half a hundred times.

Head caved in.

Were it true, then this would be how Aegon would kill the man who'd ordered the death of his sister, but why would he use what had supposed to be his own death? What was Varys missing here? He read on and then he saw it. The line that he'd somehow ignored and he moved to where he kept the other little songs. Finding the one he sought, he read the line again and he gulped as he did so.

"The face must remain intact," he said softly as he turned it was to find a man standing behind him. A man with red hair streaked with white.

"A man has a mission to carry out, the Many-Faced God is owed a debt. Be glad it's not a man's task to see it done, but done it will be." the man said, and then it was darkness as Varys was struck with something that knocked him out.

King's Landing 300 AC.

Daemon Targaryen.

He was finding it hard and hard to become no one. For the first time that he could remember, it now actually pained him to wear a different face. Though it was brief, it was there and he began to worry that the magic that allowed him to do so was fading or that he'd earned the Many-Faced God's displeasure somehow. The mummery held though and within moments the pain went away and he was no longer Daemon Targaryen to any eyes that looked upon him.

They had ridden hard to King's Landing in order to sell the mummery even further and he found his thoughts to be conflicted. Usually while wearing a different face it was thoughts of its former owner that would fill your head. For Daemon, right now those thoughts were intermixed with thoughts of his cousin. He knew that Sansa Stark had changed him, that being close to her had made him lose his singular focus and that it was probably that which had displeased the Many-Faced God. Yet it had been his servants that had set him on the path he now walked and that path led not just to names on a list, but to a throne as well.

A king needed a queen, his house needed heirs, and Daemon was not fool enough to understand what his feelings regarding his cousin were leading to. He knew full well that it was more than just being his kin that made him care for her. Just spending time with his other cousin was proof enough of that. Yet such thoughts could place him in serious danger given what he'd come to King's Landing to do. So he'd forced them from his head and by the time they reached the gates of the city, he was no one once more.

He'd then played the first part of his plan out to perfection. Daemon had spoken about the defeat with just the right amount of bitterness. He'd glared angrily at Olenna Tyrell each time he'd mentioned the Reach's betrayal while at the same time making it clear that her son and grandson lived and were being held as hostages. The truth of the matter was he needed her primed for when the army arrived and once she was, then her actions could not only be predicted but dictated. As for the actions of the Lannisters. Those he now began to set in motion. Daemon waiting until he was alone with the family of the man whose face he now wore before he did so.

"How were you beaten?" Cersei asked angrily "How could you lose?"

"I am not a god." he spat "The Reach turned their cloaks. More than enough of them to break my army even without Dorne then doing likewise. The Golden Company held together and an army who does so will always beat one that does not."

"You've lost us the Iron Throne," Cersei said rising to her feet.

"Sit down girl." he said raising his voice and Cersei was back in her chair in an instant "This city cannot hold against the army that marches again. Best you hold your tongue or you'll find that when the city falls, those men will find you here waiting for them."

Seeing her shiver slightly and neither of his sons raise any objection, Daemon or Tywin as he was now, then turned to Tyrion.

"You made plans for an escape?" he asked to a nod of the dwarf's head.

"I have a ship on standby in the harbor, father," Tyrion said rather proudly.

"The army should arrive within a day or so, we make ready to leave once it does," he said and saw the complaints on all their faces before the words were spoken.

"Should we not leave sooner?"

"Is there no other way?"

"What of Myrcella."

The three voices were almost intermingled as they spoke, Tyrion, Cersei, and finally Jaime each asking questions and it surprised him that it was Jaime and not Cersei that worried about their child. Him as in Daemon that was, for Tywin was not surprised in the least.

"We will see my granddaughter returned to me, of that have no doubt," he said emphatically "As for another way, have you not been listening?" he added glaring at Cersei before answering Tyrion's question last of all "For us to leave any sooner risks discovery."

"By who? "Jaime asked after having seemingly accepted his words on Myrcella.

"The Tyrells," he said to a slight nod of Tyron's head.

After discussing what was to come after they'd taken their leave of the city. How it would be east and not west that they set sail to and that in time they'd not be alone. Daemon then told them that not even the Rock could withstand the army that would march against it. That since he'd lost the best and the brightest that the West had to offer, that march would be one that was unhindered. He then told them that ravens would be sent so that their family would take all that could be carried and along with the wealth that they had stored in the Iron Bank, they'd be comfortable in their exile. His final words to them as they left the room were that their exile would not be a permanent one.

Once alone, he'd readied for the next part of his plans and sent some of the men with him to see to those aboard the ship. Then they'd feasted somewhat. A sham of a thing that belied the fact that they'd been defeated but one that Tywin Lannister would have insisted upon. Jaqen arrived at his rooms once the feast was done to lead him to where Varys was held and Daemon almost wished to kill the man right there and then. The knowledge that he was secured and would not be getting free anytime soon being the only thing that stayed his hand. It was clear by the eunuch's expression that his mummer's face worked not here and so he removed it and stood in front of Varys while now wearing his own.

"My name is Daemon Targaryen. Trueborn of Rhaegar Targaryen and his second wife Lyanna Stark. Many years ago, my mother wrote a list. A list of names she wished to offer to the Many-Faced God though she knew not the God of Death. At the very top of that list were four names, the face you've just seen me wear was the only one above your own. Make your peace with whatever gods you serve, Varys Blackfyre, for soon I shall gift you to my god and mark yet another name off my mother's list." Daemon said as he turned to leave.

"Aegon?" Varys asked stopping Daemon in his tracks.

"Was an insult to my brother and one who insults him no more," he said simply.

As he walked with Jaqen, they spoke of whatever other little tasks he had for him and there were but two. Two more names that he wished to see sidelined. One just for a day or two and the other just as with Varys, a name soon to be offered to the Many-Faced God.

The next day, two things were made clear to him. The first of those names had been dealt with already by Jaqen and it vexed Tyrion greatly that Ser Bronn of the Blackwater was nowhere to be found. The man breathed still, for he'd caused no offense to Daemon or his blood, either side of it. As for the other name. For now, Pycelle still had uses and it was he who brought the news of the second of those things. The army was at the gate and it was time to perform a mummer's parley. Nodding to the Grandmaester, he readied for the ride and to speak to Jon Connington again. Even though he now wore Tywin's face once more, it was Daemon's heart that beat that little bit more quickly as thoughts of red hair and blue eyes threatened to rob him of his senses.

Somehow he fought them down for now and then he, Jaime, Olenna Tyrell, and her giant guards, as well as a large contingent of his own, made their way to the King's Gate and to the parley. He heard the intake of breath from Jaime Lannister when he saw the army that was set up to make ready to besiege the city. An even louder gasp came from Olenna when she was helped from her carriage and she too saw the truth of the situation they were now in. Then he waited for the horses to arrive under the flag of truce. It was Jon Connington, Lysono Marr and Old John Mudd who represented the Golden Company. While Randyll Tarly and Mathis Rowan represented the Reach and Prince Oberyn who flew the flag for Dorne.

"Lord Hand, Lady Olenna, Kingslayer." Jon Connington spat when they finally were face to face with each other.

"Your terms," he said irritably.

"Surrender or we'll take the city and no quarter will be given. You will lose your head, Lord Hand. However, your sons are to take the black along with your nephew and your daughter is to be sent to the Silent Sisters." Jon said and then Oberyn decided to add his own little titbit.

"I've asked for and been given leave to remove it myself. I do so hope my hand stays steady when I swing the sword." Oberyn said with a dark smirk on his face.

"And what is to be my fate? "Olenna asked.

"To be determined by your actions, Lady Olenna. As is the fate of your son and grandson. You will at the very least lose your position. Should you force us to attack this city then your son and grandson will be the first members of your house to lose their heads. They won't be the last." Jon said just as he and Daemon had agreed for him to do.

"I welcomed you into my house, allowed you to sup at my table and you both turned your cloaks and stabbed your liege lord in the back. I damn you both to the Seven Hells." Olenna said looking to Randyll Tarly and Mathis Rowan.

"An oath sworn to a king trumps any sworn to a liege lord. And all we've done is renew those oaths once more." Randyll sneered.

"And where is your king?" he asked while moving his head as if he sought to find himself amongst the men who'd ridden to treat with them.

"Far from here, since we know full well what you think of sacred rites and the lengths you've gone to in order to strike down your foes. The Red Wedding may have been perpetrated by the Freys, Lord Hand, but do not think us fools who know not whose hand guided them in their vile actions."

"A craven then. So be it. You'll have our answer by nightfall." he said turning his horse around.

"Be sure it's the right one or not one member of your House will be shown any mercy, including the ones we hold already," Jon said and Tywin looked not to him but to Olenna who took note of the words that were in truth aimed more at her than at anyone else.

He could feel that Jaime wished to speak to him as they rode, but he held his tongue until they arrived back at the Red Keep. Though he didn't suggest that he take the offer, he came damnably close to it, and had he done so, then Daemon may very well have abandoned his other plans. With Jaime on his side, the others would have gone along with it. Without him, it went exactly as he expected. Tyrion wished no part of serving the rest of his life out at the Wall and Cersei wouldn't even contemplate a life as a Silent Sister. Not that it was a life she'd ever live long enough to know. Her fate had been sealed when she'd set men against his uncle's household and when she'd sat and allowed her son to treat Sansa Stark in such a fashion as Joffrey Waters had.

"Jaime, Tommen, I care not if he puts up a fight, he comes with us no matter what," he said to a nod from Jaime.

"The Kingsguard, father?" Tyrion asked and Daemon shook his head.

"Must be seen to be where they're meant to be. Your man hasn't turned up?"

"No," Tyrion said worriedly.

"A pity. We could do with as many good blades as we can find. We move now and we move quickly." he said to nods from all three of Tywin's children and then he readied to play out the final part of this mummery.

They made it to the docks unseen. To the boat that rowed them to the ship without even one question or sign of anyone seeking to stop their progress. He waited until they were all aboard the ship before he gave the signal. His men were already on board and had taken care of the escort that Tyrion had arranged and the crew that was to sail this ship east. Only the former of those had needed to be offered as gifts to the Many-Faced God, as the latter had surrendered once it was clear that they could keep their lives if they did so.

"Father?" Cersei called out in alarm and then she looked at him in shock as did Tyrion when he crashed his sword's hilt against Jaime's head.

It took the Imp only a moment to realize the truth of what was happened, of who he truly was, and Daemon soon saw the resigned look that came over his face when he did so. Turning away from both he and Cersei, who held a terrified-looking Tommen in her arms, though it was the son more so than the mother who offered any comfort to the other, Daemon then removed the face he had worn and now he wore his true one once more.

"Who are you?" Tyrion asked, "Who sent you?"

"I am Daemon Targaryen and I was sent by mother Lyanna Stark and my father Rhaegar Targaryen and by my god," he said as he nodded to his men to make sure the Lannisters were secure. Then he looked to the Red Keep and moved to the boat as he readied to take the city for true.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next: This was meant to be up a day or so ago, but I'm having some trouble with my eyes which means I'm to limit my time looking at a computer screen. Not an easy thing to do since I work with computers daily. So updates will be off schedule, by a day or so at most.

Up Next: Olenna makes her choice, Daemon takes a city and the Starks are reunited with a brother they believed lost. As Jon Connington and Daemon discuss rewards and punishment, Daemon removes a name from his mother's list while Stannis arrives at the Wall and prepares to make a terrible choice. A raven from forgotten kin sends Daemon on a collision course with the Last Stag King. While Torrhen Snow meets with Daemon once more and thinks back on the first time they met.

For those following my other fics, The Dark Prince and My Brother's keeper are up next, one this week, though I'm not certain which one as of yet.

Daryl Dixon: So very glad you liked it.

Bella Swan: Sansa is very much channeling her aunt when it comes to Daemon as he is his father. With Jaime we'll see, he's still not really aware of all that Cersei has done or who Daemon is.

Vfsnake: Very much so, the North is next on the agenda, and then what lies in wait behind the Wall.

Mrmcnasty: Among the many criticisms I have of GRRM (we all know the main one, finish the damn book already lol) is that he at times creates these really interesting characters and either kills them off too soon (Oberyn) before the story begins (Arthur Dayne) or just doesn't show them for any period of time (Maege Mormont, Howland Reed) so I try and have them play roles in as many of my fics as I'm able to as that's sort of the point of fan fiction, to do what the canon does not. I do believe that with Maege and Lyanna too, her naming her only daughter born after Lyanna died as Lyanna sort of plays into that in my mind. Daemon hasn't met anyone in the North as of yet, other than the Company of the Rose and the Greatjon and Marq Piper who he sent there.

Seaweedbrainisbue. Well, I just did what GRRM did tbh, only I allowed Drogo to live. I agree with you in regards to Dany and Drogo, but at the same time, there is no doubt that when Drogo died, Dany loved him and their relationship was much different than it had been before then. So Daemon arriving when he did and being able to save Dany would be what Dany wished to do, especially given she was willing to do almost anything so Drogo could live. For me, when it comes to Drogo, you have to get to Dany before the marriage, otherwise, she suffers regardless, and then from there on, things change and she falls in love with him, right or wrong, that's canon. So if this is your point of no return, then I'm sorry you feel that way but I do understand why you do.

Osterrecich; Daemon is trying to get whatever use he can from him before he kills him.

MalSer; Thanks for saying so, it means a lot.

RHALiz: Really glad you liked it and thanks for your kind words, they're much appreciated.

Celexys: I do hope to show some more of the HOBW in a little bit, some more of Daemon's childhood and training and his interactions with Jaqen, the Kindly Man, and the Waif too.

Silverglow: Thanks my friend, I wish it had been just Easter prep, but things are much better now, even if I have to wear an eye patch for a bit lol.

Scarila: Thanks so much for saying so. Really glad you're liking Daemon/Sansa as for Gendry/Arya, they may be but if so it won't be for a little time yet. Arya is only 11 here.

Radicalgryf: For me the pacing changes depending on when you start with Jon if you go closer to 298 or after then it is almost in the middle of wars or the lead up to them, earlier and you have a slower pace to show the evolution from boy to man. I'm glad you're liking this one though.

Jonsmom: You're more than welcome. As you can see we're certainly building to Stannis/Daemon yes. With the COTR they could probably take the North on their own if they truly wished, but Daemon wants the North to be united against the Boltons and so having them infiltrate and cause some chaos while also righting some wrongs, works best.

MSKN: We'll be seeing Euron and the IB in a little bit, they're readying for their own first moves. LSH and the BF along with Brienne will all be showing up in a while, Brienne's path is slightly different because both Arya/Sansa's has changed, suffice to say she's looking for them. Benjen/Bran lives still and will be seen. So without spoiling more than I may, all those answers you seek are coming, but some will take a little longer than others. Daemon hasn't yet made it to the wall so things like Bran/Benjen aren't really on his agenda as of yet, same with the IB, but they will be.

Creativo: Daemon es plenamente consciente de ello, razón por la cual puso las cosas en marcha como lo hizo, por qué no lo hizo solo.

Lord Grace: Thanks so much for saying so.

Xan Merrick: Thank you, my friend, so glad you liked it.