[Chapter Size: 3000 Words.]
Third Person POV.
King's Landing.
...
...
King's Landing was not calm at all with the news coming from the North.
After they had managed, at first, to put an end to the height of the War of the Four Kings, with Stannis having to flee north after his failed attack on King's Landing and with Balon Greyjoy still living in Pyke — it could not be said that the Greyjoys were in good condition, after losing thousands of men in their failed attack against the North. The campaign seemed to be going well until a new player entered the scene.
The War of the Four Kings was also marked by many who said, in truth, there were five kings. The North, despite not being considered an independent kingdom with everyone already expecting Ned Stark or his son to be named king since they did not declare for any of the candidates at the same time that the lords of the Riverlands were with them against the Lannisters, did not bring forth a king, but also remained without any alliance.
However, there was another player already at that time, far more chaotic and considered the worst of all, even as a lone wolf: Daemon Targaryen.
After everything he did, it became impossible to ignore him, even though he had only just begun his moves now, bringing an army no one expected, coming from beyond the Wall.
Joffrey was satisfied when all his enemies began to fall and lose, feeling triumphant over all of them, despite no longer sitting on the Iron Throne. He sat on another kind of chair, hastily built so as not to mark the great humiliation, a copy of the original throne, and even with all the blacksmiths and architects of King's Landing and the surrounding region called upon, it carried nowhere near the same power or meaning as the Iron Throne.
At least he seemed somewhat animated, although he never truly recovered from the wound on his leg, the result of Daemon's attack. Spouting a series of insults for weeks since he awoke, after all, he would now limp for the rest of his life, always reminded of the deep hatred against the man who had hurt him.
A hatred greater than with any other. After all, no one had ever hurt him, only the monster who had attacked him and created chaos in his city after killing Robert, his supposed father. This same hateful monster had attacked him, and he felt the worst pain he had ever experienced in his life.
At least he could console himself with the fact that the Starks had been ambushed at the Twins and killed in the middle of a wedding. Renly had been killed, and Stannis had failed to take the city and had been forced to retreat to the North. The Greyjoys were weakened and focused on their own lands. There were no more wars knocking at the capital's gates. That, however, did not stop him from shouting and proclaiming before the entire court how he would deal with his enemies, saying that all would pay, especially Daemon Targaryen.
In recent days, however, the restlessness in the court only grew.
First with the news of nearly two hundred thousand wildlings coming from beyond the Wall. Then, with the confirmation that the dragon everyone already suspected was real had destroyed the Dreadfort, turning it into a pile of frozen stones.
Later, Daemon advanced against the ironborn and the Boltons, slaughtering everyone in his path.
The event in which he massacred more than three hundred people serving the castle, whether servants or guards, personally, over an entire day without resting, spread like a legend everywhere after someone leaked this story from the spies who were in the North providing everything they could about what was happening there. The story told was that he judged and executed three hundred heads without resting even for a moment; even through the night, Daemon continued carrying out executions until midmorning. Known as the dragon's hour among the common folk, this began to spread as a terror everywhere.
Fear began to run through the nobles of the court and even the common people, who told of it with horror. Many in King's Landing had already seen Daemon in action, and he became part of their stories that they had witnessed personally: after all, he had entered the city alone, created chaos, killed, burned, and left unharmed. They spread rumors about the nobles of the Red Keep that no one had ever heard before, they saw how he slaughtered dozens of soldiers after they killed a baby, allowing the father to avenge his son's death by stabbing the murderer in front of everyone. He turned into a beast that slaughtered a Kingsguard and mutilated the king.
Later, the beast was seen in the middle of the city killing Lannister men, while his howl echoed throughout the city. His peak was at Lord Stark's trial, killing the king's executioner, striking the king himself in the leg with an arrow, as well as the High Septon and Petyr Baelish. In addition to saving Lord Stark and creating a massacre by using magic to summon an ice storm in front of the Great Sept of Baelor and spitting fire across the city that burned dozens of houses.
The nobles also seemed worried. Those who supported the Lannisters began to reveal an uneasy glimmer in their eyes, growing more and more troubled as more and more news about Daemon arrived. After all, now they did not only have to deal with a monster capable of killing a king personally, destroying the order of an entire city and bringing down a king, but also with a dragon and an army of one hundred and eighty thousand wildlings.
And everything indicated that Daemon was summoning the North once again, which meant he would march south with an even greater army — larger than any seen in the War of the Five Kings — and mounted on a dragon. His claim could be questioned, but if he truly carried Targaryen blood, he needed to prove nothing more. Even more so when he had Daenerys Targaryen, who, according to the reports, was his lover.
Faced with such a disadvantage, Tywin Lannister had to think of the best way to deal with this threat, which saw his family as its main target. It was no accident that Daemon aimed at Clegane, personally fighting him, which, according to rumors, he did transformed into that monstrous wolf.
In addition to having the dragon target the seat of House Clegane and the family of Lorch. Tywin's children also made a point of saying how Daemon seemed to hate them when he saw them in Winterfell.
The old lion needed to be clever, for trying to use brute power meant nothing against the military might of this enemy. So, he began to work in search of indirect support. He turned to Varys, who seemed willing to help him — to the point that Tywin noticed the eunuch also hated Daemon. Perhaps because of the rumor of rumors Daemon had spread about the tongueless children when he had been in King's Landing.
Varys, despite trying to hide it, seemed desperate. But to the lion's keen eyes, it was impossible not to notice the subtle signs. Once, Tywin questioned him about his reason for wanting Daemon dead, and the eunuch replied that the reason was Daemon's magic and sorcery.
He said that he served the realm and the realm could not fall into the hands of a sorcerer. Varys had to recount his past and hatred of magic. He himself had been mutilated by a blood magic sorcerer in Essos, becoming a eunuch in a ritual with his private parts thrown into the fire.
Thus, the two set themselves to spreading rumors and whispers: that Daemon was a sorcerer, that he planned to sacrifice the people of Westeros to become more powerful, that he carried with him the Targaryen madness inherited from Aerys. After executing three hundred people personally, no one doubted he was capable of even greater atrocities. And all had already seen him in action, spreading chaos wherever he went.
The Faith was also quite harsh with Daemon Targaryen's actions, condemning them as vile acts of the demon. Especially after he struck an arrow right into the High Septon's anus during the chaos of Lord Stark's execution, who had to be aided immediately by the city's maesters, who did everything to keep him alive while the hemorrhage continued. In any case, his backside was torn apart and he was never the same again. He nearly died in a deplorable state. He could not even defecate properly anymore. All that was left for him now was a miserable life sitting on a cloak wearing a diaper.
There were no more prostitutes to bring him pleasure, only septas who helped him, though they showed disgust every time they had to clean him. He could no longer walk, only remain seated, condemned to his position as High Septon. All that was left for him was to hate Daemon with all his strength, and he spared no words in casting curses against him.
It was Queen Cersei who also made a point of helping, driven by the hatred she felt for the dragon. Even her brother noticed a change in her, ever since she had returned to King's Landing with only a piece of her arm. He was shocked to find his beloved sister in such a miserable state. Everyone could see on her face and in her expressions that she was now a woman driven only by hatred, and no one knew what Daemon had done to her besides hurting her son.
She had completely lost the ability to feel pleasure. She could no longer, ever since Daemon had carved runes into her body, cursing her to be consumed by her own rage, incapable of relieving herself with any other kind of pleasure — especially sexual.
Obsessed with proving it wrong, she tried everything. She even lay with her cousin, guards, and even servants, but all she felt was their skin against hers and the discomfort of penetration. The pleasure she once had no longer existed. The only thing that remained was pain, for not even her body reacted with arousal. She felt filthy and disgusted every time she tried something.
She sought anything that might help her, but not even Maester Pycelle could understand what her problem was, until she herself confessed that Daemon had visited her room and done something to her.
The maester could not help her after that. All she could do was live with her resentments, while those around her began to fear her. They no longer stood before her, avoiding her gaze. No one admired her beauty anymore, but instead felt fear at the rancor etched into her face. There were no more smiles, only a look of rage and hatred.
Cersei found no joy in anything anymore. And not only sexually; she felt no pleasure in eating or drinking wine either.
Her son also suspected her change in behavior. She knew the maester had commented something to him, but she denied it, so as not to be further humiliated. Joffrey, however, said he would make Daemon pay with his own life.
And she could not disagree. More than that, she longed for him to be killed, in the hope that then her sensations of pleasure might return. Her last hope was that with the death of Daemon Targaryen, the curse of his magic would finally be undone.
Cersei had no way to take her anger out on Daemon Targaryen at the moment, but she wished to see him tortured more than ever; he was the person Cersei hated most, surpassing even Robert.
The bastard was the son of the woman she most despised in life, for having conquered the hearts of two men: one Cersei could never have as her husband, and another who scorned her from the very beginning precisely because he loved a dead woman, preferring a corpse over her. In the end, Robert ended up being killed by her son. In part, after all, it was Cersei who had poisoned him as the final blow.
But no one needed to know that.
With no way to vent her frustration directly on Daemon, Cersei sought revenge on whoever she could. There was someone specific: Sansa. He had never laid a finger on the girl, but as the weeks went by, the queen's anger and resentment only grew. Her son would not marry her. So, Cersei began to take it out on Sansa, believing that, since she was of his family, it was only fair to make her pay.
Sansa had entered a true hell. The same woman who had convinced her to betray her father's plans and turn against her own family now revealed herself to be insane. She mistreated her as cruelly as her son did.
Sansa did not know how to react. When she received the first slap, she fell to the ground with her cheek burning, staring in horror at the queen, surrounded by the Kingsguard.
"It's all the fault of that bitch's son from the North!" shouted Cersei without any warning of what it was about before attacking the Stark girl, who had stopped to lower her head and greet her respectfully.
Sansa was still confused and horrified on the ground and could not even react when the queen stepped forward and kicked her in the belly. The girl lost her breath. The guards did nothing.
"I will turn your life into a living hell while you are here, little bird," said Cersei, using the nickname she had given her since the day they met. Then she went on her way with the same hateful look, leaving Sansa sobbing and crying on the floor, without anyone approaching to help her.
That night, Sansa entered her room in tears, asking herself how everything had come to this point. How could she have been so naïve as to believe in those people? She had trusted the queen, and what she received in return was only hatred and pain from everyone around her. She would no longer be queen, Joffrey hated her and mistreated her whenever he could, and now even Cersei beat her shamelessly, confessing that she held a deep hatred for Daemon Targaryen and wanted revenge through her.
Sansa did not understand. All she could do was cry and curl up more and more as the days went by; whenever she saw the queen approaching, she could not escape. She might not do it in front of the court, but Cersei always struck her whenever she saw her in the castle corridors. There was no one to stop the next assault, not even Tyrion, who had always protected her from Joffrey, found himself unable to help her against his mad sister.
It was not enough that her son humiliated her, not only affirming that he would never marry the daughter of a traitor like the Starks, but also boasting of the death of Robb and her mother at the Twins when he received the news.
Despite this, Robb later appeared alive, to the king's fury, who discovered that the Stark heir had survived the Freys' betrayal, though with many losses. This did not stop Joffrey from mocking, saying that her brother was now nothing more than a broken man, without an army, without anything, only fleeing to the North.
Later came the news from the North. Her former bastard brother, who had now taken the name Daemon Targaryen, was conquering more and more lands in the realm, massacring the ironborn, defeating the Boltons, and cleansing the North.
Sansa could see the despair growing in the king's court with each report of Daemon's victories. In silence, she could only hope that at least her cousin might manage to defeat them all. She herself was beginning to nurture a deep hatred for everyone around her, while trying to mask her own fear.
At last, she realized how naïve she had been. The world was not the rainbow she had imagined. And there was nothing she could do, except think about surviving.
She had no sympathy for Daemon, believing that part of her suffering was a consequence of him. But deep down, she could not help but wish that he would kill the king and his mother. The gentle wolf she had once been now also harbored a profound hatred, to the point of wanting to see them dead.
Now, she was nothing more than a pawn here. A pawn who would marry a Lannister — none other than Tyrion. Even if she felt humiliated, she recognized that he, at least, treated her kindly. And she knew well that this came in part from his fear of Daemon, since everyone knew the hatred he nurtured for the Lannisters.
It was impossible not to notice how all the members of the Red Keep were cautious in the face of the news from the North. The nobles were beginning to show unease, especially the Tyrells, as she noticed, almost regretting having allied themselves with the Lannisters, re-evaluating their options while Tywin did everything he could to hold them, for now he needed their support to face Daemon Targaryen — a man with a dragon, an army, and with a legitimate heir at his side to claim the Iron Throne.
The members of the council hated Daemon, even Petyr Baelish, someone who was usually kind to Sansa and tried to help her whenever he saw her. He had also become as lame as the king himself after being struck by an arrow. And everyone knew that Littlefinger hated Daemon more than most.
What Sansa, Joffrey, Cersei, Littlefinger, Tywin, Tyrion, Varys, and all the others did not know was that, at that very moment, a raven was entering the Red Keep with a letter. A clear message from the North, written by the very man who was the cause of all their torments.
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