Prince Daemon Stark
The southerners thought that this was cold, pah, this was not cold this was nothing more than a slight child. Cold had been Moat Cailin following the massacre that had happened, cold was seeing his wife and daughter's bodies buried in the snow. That was cold, not this slight breeze that nipped and bit, but then again what would these southerners know of cold, men like Arthur Toyne, Harry Flowers and Lord Desmond Charlton had been born and raised in the south, they had never known cold, had never seen snow until quite recently. Daemon pitied them their ignorance, and at the same time envied them it. The north that was where he belonged, not in the blasted south where the people were strange as were their customs and other such attitudes. Still he had been sent south and so he would not leave for home until his goal had been achieved.
They were close to achieving that goal as well, the southerners had been defeated at Moat Cailin, White Harbour, the Blue Fork and at Riverrun, Lord Lannister was rotting in a cell and his host had been destroyed. Victory after victory and yet Daemon and his men were weary, they knew this pattern too well from the times when Daemon's grandfather had led them. Victory had followed victory until one deciding battle and then it had all gone up in smoke. The southerners might be jumping for joy at the thought that they were so close to King's Landing but Daemon was cautious, he sent scouts out and kept guards on Lucerys Blackfyre, much as he might despise the brat, truly he did not want the idiot to die, he did not want all those northern lives to have been shed for nothing. Blackfyre would sit the throne and then Daemon would get justice for Samaira and Jorelle and then he would go home and his grandfather could die in peace.
There had been good news from the south as well, Daemon's brother Gyles had single handily brought Dorne to the side of the Yronwoods. Driving the Martells away from their homes in the process and getting their family onto the sun throne, the throne where the Martells had ruled Dorne from since the time of Nymeria's invasion. Daemon was very proud of his brother, and he knew that this would be what his brother was remembered for bringing Dorne back to its rightful rulers, and he knew that his brother would be happy. When they had been children growing up in White Harbour, all Gyles would dream about was using his skills with the sword or spear to bring Dorne back to the family of their grandmother and he had done so, and Daemon was most certainly proud of his little brother.
Daemon knew that the Blackfyres were not too happy that Dorne was now a completely separate kingdom, which he found quite amusing considering that one of the original points of the Blackfyre war in the beginning was to remove Dornish influence from court, something Daemon had always taken to mean that they wanted Dorne to no longer be part of Westeros. Lucerys had said what Gyles had done would be rewarded when he came into his throne, but Daemon knew that the Blackfyre would want to speak with his brother and with Lord Yronwood when the time came, and that was something Daemon was dreading, for more likely than not their fool of a grandfather would side with Lucerys over his own flesh and blood, for no matter how much he might be a changed man he was still blind in some respects when it came to Lucerys.
That was why Daemon controlled and commanded all of the north's military operations during this campaign, it was he who sat and planned their battle formations with his lords, Lucerys would sit in on the war councils merely as a figurehead someone that the southerners could rally to so that it did not seem as if he was a mere puppet. The man still came up with some very strange suggestions for battle plans, though Daemon did have to admit that his suggestion for attacking the Lannisters had paid dividends, they now had one less host to worry about as they marched for King's Landing.
Just thinking about it, the chance to take King's Landing and put an end to this madness once and for all was something that had kept Daemon up for many a night since the battle with the Lannister host. He felt at turns nervous and impatient. He wanted to get the battle over and done with, seat Lucerys Blackfyre on the throne and then head home where he could go and mourn his wife and daughter in peace, and on other turns he was nervous that he would mess something up or that something would go awry and that this would be yet another failed Blackfyre campaign, and that the north this time would not stand for it. Though it had been Aegon Targaryen who had initiated this war and had lost much as a result of it, the north remembers and there were lords of the north who still grumbled about having to march in the south after slaughtering the offending southerners at Moat Cailin. He knew men such as Lord Cerwyn would much rather have returned home after Moat Cailin, but still Daemon knew his duty and he would do it even if it killed him. Perhaps if it did, he might meet his wife and daughter once more, and his grandfather could do whatever the hell he wanted to do.
He shook his head and tried to clear his head of such thoughts. What was it his grandmother Dacey had always said? A cluttered mind leads to bad decisions and even worse moves, he was the crown prince of the north and iron islands he could not afford to make any rash decisions not now, nor could he afford his own personal thoughts to get in the way of his objective, seat Blackfyre on the throne and end the Targaryens and his grandfather would rest easy and then they would never need to head south ever again. That was the thought that allowed him to sleep at night when all else failed, and this time he used it to smooth over his nerves as he waited for his lords to enter the council tent.
The flap opened and in they walked. Lords Glover, Cerwyn, Tallhart, Dustin, Ryswell, Umber, Royce and Stark. The northern lords who had stood by his family for years, through thick and thin, he hoped he could pay them back. They were joined by Haegon and Lucerys Blackfyre, Ser Arthur Toyne, Ser Harry Flowers and Ser Matthew Rivers as well as Edrick Snow the acting commander of the Winter's Guard following Asphell's death against the Lannisters. Once all were seated Daemon spoke. "My lords, my king you know why we are here. We are two days ride away from King's Landing. Victory is within our grasp. We cannot afford to mess this up now. I would hear your ideas on how to take the city and how to do it effectively."
Ser Arthur speaks first. "Well we know that Duncan the Small has his host guarding the gate of the gods and the dragon gate. Spread out over that distance some 5,000 men that is what he has left. Of the Vale and the Stormlands we know not."
Flowers spoke next. "Your scouts are lazy as ever Toyne," the man bristled at that. "the force of Duncan The Small is spread out over the distance between the gate of the gods and the dragon gate, but Edric Baratheon's host numbering some 5,000 as well is contained within the lion gate and the storm gate. They will be the ones we face first if we assault the city head on."
"And don't forget that they shall have archers and no doubt fire waiting for us should we attack head on. We should tread carefully now my lords. One wrong move and all of our hard work shall be for nothing." Cautioned Matthew Rivers.
"What Rivers says is true," Haegon Blackfyre said gruffly. "My spies within the city report that the place is preparing for a siege, they will expect us to spread ourselves thin to play into their hands and go for what they believe we will do. We cannot break off our forces to individually deal with the forces within the different gates. We stick together and we will break the walls and the men."
"What do we suggest we do Ser?" Lucerys Blackfyre asked his great uncle.
"We send men out to find out what the Valemen are doing, and we march from here to King's Landing under the cover of darkness and we attack. We push the Targaryens for everything they have and if we break their host then we have the city. The gold cloaks will not put up a fight against us." Haegon Blackfyre replied.
Daemon is about to ask how the man knows this for a certainty when a man dressed in black enters the tent and hands Haegon Blackfyre a missive. The man reads it and then laughs out loud. When Daemon shoots him an inquisitive look he merely says. "My theory has been proven correct. The city will open its gates to us if we can smash Duncan the Small's host."
"What information do you have that will prove this ser?" Daemon asks inquisitively.
Haegon Blackfyre smiles and then reads aloud. "There was a sea battle between the Iron Fleet and the remains of the Redwyne and Royal Fleets. The fighting was bitter and brutal but at the end of it all, the iron fleet emerged victorious the remenants of the two enemy fleets were sunk and destroyed. Maegon Velaryon and Lord Redwyne are dead. King's Landing has no space for extra men now to come to its aid. Unless the Vale stirs itself."
"Then we must make sure they do not. We must remind them what will happen to their liege lord if they as much as move past the bloody gate." Lucerys Blackfyre said.
Daemon nods and says. "Aye, I will send some of our fastest riders out to see what is happening in the east. We should head for King's Landing this night then, if we are to maintain the element of surprise."
The lords and other men gathered in the war council nod and agree and plans are made, and soon enough as the sun begins to set they set off, 9,000 northmen, 6,000 men from the Golden Company and 4,000 rebel lords from the Reach and the Riverlands. Daemon sends his direwolf Mars out to scout ahead in the darkness and they arrive at the Old Gate just as the moon and the sun are about equal, the battering rams are put into good use, and the gates are about broken when the first sign of combat begins. Howling and barking and roaring the battle for King's Landing commences. Daemon fights for his life, hacking and slashing his way through the men who come in his way, cutting them down like they are nothing more than sacks of meat. Mars tearing men limb by limb. Their screams sound like music to his ears, vengeance for Samaira and Jorelle, he keeps fighting through the pain of wounds and through the tiredness.
"Old Gate is ours!"Someone yells, Daemon pushes on smashing his way through the soldiers, are they crownlands or gold cloaks he knows not but he fights on, and Mars by his side a black shadow in the morning light, the grey cloaks of the winter's guard following as well. Men go down screaming, Ice sings with their blood, each new kill is one that it seems to celebrate, the hunger is on him and he fights on through the pain and the tiredness on and on he fights.
The fighting continues, through and through, the push continues, their gaining ground, the old gate is theirs, they're pushing up through streets now hand to hand combat reigning supreme here,. Daemon cuts down another man and then another, and then another. They're pushing closer and closer. Then he feels a sharp pain and then sees red, some bastard's cut him with a spear, the man soon falls to Mars' teeth and claws, the battle rages on though he feels woozy and drowsy. "My Prince, we must take you away from here and to safety." Snow says.
Daemon grunts but finds him being led away from the city, to safety though his men continue fighting led on by the giant Lord Jonnel Umber they keep fighting. There is blood and carnage and all around him he sees red, he sees dragons fight dragons, and he thinks he's going mad; the blood is doing him in. "Take the king back to the tent!" Snow barks. Someone else shouts back. "We can't commander. There are more men attacking us we're being outnumbered."
"Who?" Daemon manages to bark through the shade of pain and red.
"Valemen," the man replies. "they killed the scouts and are wreaking havoc amongst the company and the rebels my prince."
"How many?" he asks this time slumping in his horse.
"7,000 maybe less my prince." The man replies.
Daemon feels truly unsteady now. "We must warn Haegon and Lucerys they cannot be killed not now."
The man whispers something to Edrick and then he whispers to Daemon. "Haegon Blackfyre is already dead my prince. Slain by Lord Royce. Lucerys is lost to the cause now."
"Find him then." Daemon snarls. "Find him alive or dead."
Lucerys Blackfyre is found, dead, his head caved in, his armour dented, blood pouring from several different places. The fifth Blackfyre war ends in defeat once more, and the north retreats beaten and bruised. The New Year is celebrated by some and mourned by others.
King Aegon V Targaryen
The war had ended, the war he had started with his foolish pride and ambitions. It had ended after two years of destruction and chaos, Westeros had bled and the Blackfyres had died out in one line, but still remained in another. Aegon was still haunted by the various demons that had become his companions during the war, the guilt and the grief over the war and the deaths of so many people weighed heavily on him each and every day. That the Targaryens still ruled from King's Landing was a fact he owed to the Valemen and their timely arrival, without them it was likely that the city would have fallen and that they would all have been slaughtered.
There had been much to do following the ending of the war, King's Landing was repaired following the destruction that the northmen and the rebels had inflicted upon it. A lot of gold was spent, and much of the gold in the treasury was used for that purpose rebuilding walls and buildings that had fallen during the battle and adding more defensive fortifications should such an attack ever happen in the future. The destruction of the royal fleet and the death of Aegon's goodbrother Lord Maegon Velaryon meant that more gold was needed to spend on rebuilding the royal feet, that was where the rest of the coin in the royal treasury was spent, meaning that nay future purchases or constructions that the crown would need to do would require money from the iron bank of bravos or from the Tyrells something that Aegon did not wish to think about nor did he truly like it. But that was what his foolishness had cost him.
His council had also experienced a reshuffle as well some of the most valued members such Lord Bolton and Lord Velaryon had died in battle, and others such as Lord Celtigar had died from the winter. Aegon named his son and heir Duncan the small as hand, and named Lord Boremund Hightower as master of ships, a position that truly needed a proper naval expert to man it. Master of Whispers was given to Ser Dontos Waters, a bastard from King's Landing, whose parentage Aegon was suspicious about but he did not truly wish to delve deeper into the matter, the man was good at collecting secrets and that was all that mattered. The Kingsguard had also suffered greatly during this war, Ser Steffon Storm, Ser Damon Bolton and Ser Lyonel Royce had all died in the line of duty, they were replaced by Ser Gwayne Gaunt, Ser Andros Celtigar and Ser Desmond Darklyn. They joined a stellar line up of Kingsguard that included Aegon's oldest friend Ser Duncan the Tall, Ser Gerold Hightower known as the white bull for his strength, Prince Lewyn Martell and Ser Jonothor Darry.
The process of healing the kingdom took a lot of time and energy, winter had exacted its toll on the population of Westeros and war had taken more from them. Aegon strove hard to ensure that the people and the economy could prosper and thrive once more, and did all he could to ensure that trade with the Free Cities continue. Thankfully the Targaryens still had allies in Bravos and Pentos and trade continued, slowly but surely bringing gold and more money into the royal coffers and encouraging the other lords to begin trading as well. Dorne though, Dorne was boycotted, the place was in contention and as such Aegon did not think it right that the kingdom trade with Dorne when the place was under the wrong rulership.
The Martells proved to be easier to manage compared to how Aegon had first feared they would be. Loreza Martell took an active role in trying to make sure her and her son's lot in life was made easier. She worked hard to ensure that there was money coming in and Aegon invited them both to court in order to make sure that they had friends and allies in court and amongst the influential nobility when the time came for them to take back Dorne. Eventually when Doran Martell's seventh birthday came Aegon took the lad on as a page, and began observing how Loreza Martell acted around various people. She also thankfully began entertaining suitors, such as Ser Derryck Caron the regent of Nightsong, as well as Ser Desmond Bolton brother to the current Bolton lord. Aegon was impressed by how Loreza Martell assessed each man who thought to court her and saw how she played them off against one another, and was happy when she eventually chose to wed Ser Derryck Caron, it would make things easier he supposed for when they reclaimed Dorn from the traitorous Yronwoods.
Peace had also been secured with the north, though neither of the two aggressors had sent representatives to either King's Landing or Winterfell instead they had communicated by raven, and a neutral agreement had been reached, and so prisoners had been exchanged. Jon Arryn was back in the Vale shaky, but ruling well, and Tytos Lannister remained the cowed lion he had always been. Aegon could hear the laughter at his folly, but he also heard the snide comments made about the Blackfyres and the Starks and how their cause was doomed for good now, if they could not even win from the position they had been in how would they ever seat a Black dragon on the throne.
Still none of these things would bring back his son, Aelix had been slain in the fighting trying to do something that even experienced men would not dare do, fight against Arthur Ambrose single handily, and he had paid the price for it. Perhaps his son thought he needed to prove himself to Aegon to earn some recognition if he had then he had done it wrongly, but Aegon could not find it within himself to cast blame on his son, it was he who was at fault for it all, the war, the death and destruction. His wife hated him and his children looked at him differently, war it was always the way with war. Never again, never again.
"Ser Dontos is here to see you Your Grace." Ser Duncan said taking Aegon from his dark musings.
Aegon looked up and blinked rapidly before saying. "Show him in then Dunk."
Ser Dontos Waters had silvery blond hair, and eyes that looked purple in a certain light, he was smart as a razor as well, cunning by half. A good spymaster but not a man one would want around otherwise. "Your Grace," the man said bowing. "I have the information you wished for me to get."
Aegon straightens and arches his fingers. "Well, get on with it then ser." He says.
Waters swallows and then says. "Volantis now houses the Golden Company. It appears the Archon of Tyrosh has grown tired of housing the black dragon without seeing any reward on his help. Aerion Targaryen houses them and trains with them and my sources say that he plans on aiding them in a fight in the Disputed Lands."
"Aerion has been a traitor to his family for a long time now, this is not news Waters. What more do you have for me about the Blackfyres?" Aegon asked impatiently.
Waters swallows nervously then and says. "There is more Your Grace. Word from the north, says that the last living Blackfyre descendant of Aemon Blackfyre Lucerys sister Rhaena was found dead in her bed some two moons ago."
"So the black dragon has one less family member. Do we know who did it?" Aegon asks.
"Yes Your Grace." Waters says pausing before Aegon nods for him to continue. "My brother Your Grace. He has been working in Winterfell for some time, he attached himself to Daemon Stark's retinue of friends working as a servant and now works in Winterfell."
"That is good," Aegon replies. "Now what of Stark has he wed anyone yet?"
"Ah that is where things get interesting Your Grace." Waters says. "It appears Daeron Stark is no longer the cold hearted bastard that we all once thought him to be. He has legitimised Gyles Snow and has also told his grandson Daemon that he has a certain amount of time to mourn his wife and daughter and chose his own wife, if he does not do so by a certain period then Daemon Stark shall wed Maelys' the Monstrous' sister Visenya Blackfyre."
"That is certainly an interesting development indeed." Aegon muses aloud. "Are there any lords in the north who might be inclined to see their daughter wed to the Prince of the north?"
"Oh plenty Your Grace. But they all loath the south now after the last war. And as such it might take their own sort of intuition to try and work their way into Prince Daemon's good graces." Waters replied.
"Very well." Aegon replied. "See to it that something happens along those lines if not, we might need to have Daemon Stark killed and see who will take the fall for that."
"Yes Your Grace." Ser Dontos replied.
"Leave me now, there are other things I must think on before the next move is made." Aegon said. Dontos left and soon enough Aegon was left to brood, it was only after he had had another drink of wine that he realised two years had passed since the end of the fifth Blackfyre War.