[Chapter Size: 2600 Words.]
Third Person POV.
King's Landing.
...
...
"Where were you?" Val asked as soon as she saw Daemon arriving at the chamber. She had been waiting for him, leaving a message that she would go out to take care of something, after having arranged a few more things in the castle.
"I was taking care of some matters. Were you waiting for me?" he asked while removing the cloak he had worn that night to move through the city and hanging it up, turning his attention to a mannequin with the clothes prepared for him.
"Of course I was waiting for you. I refused to go to that banquet without you," Val said naturally, and Daemon cast her a look of approval.
"All right. Let us get ready," he said as he put on the robe of House Targaryen.
They left the chamber to prepare for the banquet that was already underway.
"So, was it very important for you to leave so suddenly?" Val asked, insisting on the earlier subject, as they walked side by side through the corridors of the Red Keep, with Sandor wearing the armor of the Kingsguard, following them at a distance.
"I had to deal with some problems in the city before they became bigger ones. I will explain it better after the banquet," he replied.
Val raised an eyebrow but said nothing more, and they continued on.
They did not enter directly through the main entrance of the hall, but through the back, near the high table, finding the hall already full. Not wanting to draw too much attention to their arrival.
Even so, those who saw them coming from the back greeted them as Daemon made his way to the high table. He found Lord Stark, Robb and other lords commanding the troops; Lord Stannis and Mance also shared the table.
Brynden Tully, who should have been there, was absent.
Daemon said nothing. He knew the man was mourning his nephew.
"Lord Brynden..." Lord Stark began to say, trying to explain upon seeing Daemon. Daemon looked at him as he took his seat at the king's high table, with Val at his side.
"I understand what is happening. He is in mourning. Leave the man in peace," he said simply, and Eddard nodded without saying anything further.
"Speaking of which, we shall have a moment to speak about who will inherit Riverrun, and I see no one better than your second son," Daemon said, making Ned and even Robb raise an eyebrow at hearing that.
Silence spread as those words echoed.
"Bran..." Robb murmured.
"We will discuss that later," Lord Stark only said.
In the line of succession, it would obviously go to Catelyn's children.
Daemon looked ahead and saw everyone now watching him from their seats. He raised his cup and opened a smile, making them all react. The king had been absent until now, but now that he was seated at the banquet, all attention returned to him.
He then stood up, with all the lords and soldiers waiting for him to speak.
"My lords, as I myself had said to all of you outside the walls of this city, before we advanced through the breach that Winter had made the night before, I said that this day would be marked as the day of the conquerors. And here we are, my lords, feasting in the very place that the Lannisters held for moons. While we are here, they are in the Black Cells and tomorrow they will stand trial. And I declare that the Lannisters will have nothing after this day. This day shall be marked as the last day that family held any power, any name, but the name Lannister will cease to exist from the following day."
He raised his cup in celebration, as everyone roared throughout the hall, satisfied with his words.
The Lannisters would exist no more. Their very arrogance had brought about their own destruction.
"The lion never listens to the sheep," was what they used to say. But in the end, it led to their self-destruction.
Daemon drank from his cup and all followed him. "Now, enjoy yourselves, you all deserve this night." With that, the banquet continued without any trouble until the Hour of the Wolf and beyond. Another great banquet was taking place in the camp outside the city, with men also receiving food and drink to celebrate today's overwhelming victory in conquering the capital.
Meanwhile, those who schemed within King's Landing were in a great dilemma, not knowing what to do after the death of the High Sparrow.
Dead from a strange tremor in his house, where he fell from the stairs and broke his neck.
The meeting went on with some shouting that it had been the demon himself who killed him, as they liked to nickname Daemon.
Others, even believing that such claims might be correct, said it could have been merely an accident, precisely because they were beginning to realize that Daemon was not someone they could simply deal with.
Another faction claimed it was better to wait and see how things would unfold and that perhaps it was not the best decision to start a war against the new government without any proof. After all, just as many feared Daemon's magic, others spoke of his conquest and that there had been no unnecessary massacres. The criminals who had committed unlawful acts had been punished.
The people of the city had not been touched. For some, that was more than enough to defend the new government.
Besides, when Daemon had been in the city for the first time more than a year ago, he never attacked the common folk, only the powerful figures, the guards and the king.
Not to mention the food. While King's Landing had been starving, with the lions distributing little food, the new Targaryen distributed food freely to all.
In the Great Sept of Baelor, the High Septon was in a rather complicated situation since Daemon had struck his anal orifice with an arrow at the event in which Lord Stark was nearly executed, being prevented by Daemon's own interference.
The man could barely walk. He needed to be treated at all times and could hardly relieve himself without the help of the septas.
Knowing that the same Daemon, the man who had shot that arrow into his anus, was now in power, seated upon the Iron Throne less than a kilometer from the Great Sept, made him tremble.
It was certainly not something pleasant for him. The king did not like him, especially after the words he had spoken on the day of Lord Stark's execution. It was no wonder that Daemon had struck him exactly where he intended.
Joffrey, Littlefinger and he himself had been hit by those arrows. Even if they were not fatal, it was obvious that Daemon's goal had been to make them suffer.
Already outside the capital on the following day, the news reached the rest of the kingdoms. The conquest of King's Landing had not yet been officially announced, but certainly rumors were already beginning to spread.
Lord Tallhart, who was advancing with tens of thousands of northmen and free folk, passing through the Riverlands toward King's Landing, received news from an allied castle. With a knight bringing it to them.
"So, what does it say there?" Tormund asked aloud. The red-haired man was leading the men of the free folk, and Ygritte was also at his side, since Daemon had taken only Val to Harrenhal. Ygritte did not have the courage to fly on a dragon.
Lord Tallhart had read the letter, handed it to Lord Glover at his side and turned to the man of the free folk.
"Daemon, as he said in the last few days, placed the army before the capital, with the exception of us, of course."
"What? Then there is still time for us to get there and fight, is there not?" Tormund said hopefully. As a lover of battle, he wanted to fight alongside the dragon, as he had been doing since they had met at Mance's camp two years ago.
"I would not say that," Lord Tallhart replied.
"It is very likely that they have already conquered all of King's Landing," Lord Glover said this time, handing the letter to another northman who wished to read it.
"What? Then we are not going to have any fun?" Tormund grumbled, disappointed.
"Not now. Daemon sent a letter a few days earlier. He spoke about this so-called Blackfyre," Ygritte said this time.
"Lady Ygritte is right. There is still an enemy in the south, so the war is not over," Lord Glover said, with Ygritte casting them a piercing look, as if to say that she should not be called lady, as the southerners did with their noblewomen.
"In any case, let us continue the journey. We have a day's march to King's Landing and one day less to finally reach our destination," Tallhart said, giving the orders.
Tormund also continued commanding the northmen and the free folk toward King's Landing.
On that same morning, in the Vale, where the lords were celebrating a tourney to discuss the Vale's position regarding what had been happening in Westeros, they also received the news that the united army of the North, the Riverlands, the Stormlands and the free folk stood before King's Landing with more than one hundred thousand men, with many nobles of the Crownlands also joining them.
In a corner of the tourney, Petyr Baelish read the letter with extremely attentive eyes. The noose was tightening.
There were so many emotions in his eyes as he looked at those words. A pain in his leg began to rise as his knee, which had been wounded by an arrow, seemed to ache even more.
Daemon's arrow had struck him cleanly, leaving him marked for the rest of his life.
First, the humiliation had come from Brandon Stark, who cut him when he wished to fight for Catelyn's hand. Then, he watched Catelyn, the love of his life, marry Brandon Stark's brother. And the third humiliation of his life, done by someone who was not a Stark, but possessed the blood of the wolves... It was when he believed he would finally execute Lord Stark and that the path to his precious Cat would at last be clear. Not only did he fail, but he was also attacked by the man who had caused all of it. Then, as if the arrow in his knee were not enough, he also had all his secret coffers in King's Landing stolen by that same man!
The lack of that gold threw him into many problems, aside from the accusations that Tyrion later began to investigate, seeing that Daemon had not been so far from the truth after all....
His teeth ground together. The first time he heard about Jon Snow, he was fascinated when the bastard returned and about him having attacked Lord Stark and even Catelyn in Winterfell.
He thought an interesting variable had emerged in the game of thrones. One that he could use.
But he was mistaken.
That was not a variable he could use. It was another dragon that no one had the capacity to control, that could do whatever it wished and unleash chaos wherever it passed, without anyone being able to do anything against it. An uncontrollable monster.
And now that same creator of all the chaos should already be seated upon the Iron Throne at that very moment.
The game was becoming more difficult, and Littlefinger was running out of options on how to proceed. Chaos had always been an opportunity, but with this man conquering the Iron Throne, there seemed to be no rules that limited him. He could kill anyone, he could act as he pleased with powers that no man should have.
"If I possessed such powers..." Petyr Baelish murmured to himself. If he had such ability, no one could stop him. But he was only an ordinary man, like all the others beneath that monster.
However, his eyes shifted to the other scrolls upon the table. Scrolls speaking of the movements of Dorne, the Reach, the Stormlands and the mercenaries of Essos, along with three dragons and a new claimant to the Iron Throne.
"The Tyrell girl will probably marry this Aegon..." Petyr murmured. "But that may also be an opportunity against Daemon in King's Landing. After all, it is three dragons against one. And, as bizarre as his abilities with magic may be, he is still a man. Perhaps he cannot overcome three dragons."
There was also a letter from his spies in which Daemon publicly claimed within the halls of Winterfell that he had been killing dragons wherever they were over the past eight years, before appearing in Westeros. A statement that Petyr Baelish had obtained through his spies, hearing gossip and rumors in Wintertown.
A man killing dragons might be nothing more than something to further enhance his supposed powers. In any case, there was only one way to find out, and he would have to wait until he saw the confrontation between the two Targaryens.
"And perhaps the Vale should finally move," he thought. I will have to speak with his Lysa.
His letter was placed upon the table when someone entered.
She had black hair, though not natural, for Petyr had dyed it. Her eyes, however, reflected the same color as her mother's.
"Lord Baelish," she said slowly.
She was presented as Alayne Stone, Petyr Baelish's bastard daughter — or so they staged it. In truth, she was Sansa Stark, whom he had taken from King's Landing when the Tyrells began to leave the city. Petyr Baelish took advantage of the confusion created by Varys and managed to escape with Sansa.
And he brought her to the Vale, hiding her, saying it would not be safe to reveal her. But he was merely trying to buy time, since declaring that she was Sansa at that moment would make the entire Vale help her return to her father. Petyr did not want that. That was why he assumed the role of Sansa's savior, to keep her doing what he wanted over the past moons.
"Any news of my father...?" she asked, looking at her supposed father, but wanting to know about the real one, fearing what might have happened.
"There is some news, yes, my dear," he said, approaching her after placing the scrolls inside the drawer and closing it. He kissed her forehead, making her shiver slightly.
He knew that Lord Stark and even Daemon wanted to kill him. He needed to play cleverly and use Sansa for his next moves.
"As for the news, we shall speak after this day of jousting. What do you say?" he said.
Sansa looked at him, seeming to want to hear more, but in the end she nodded.
The girl had been abused too much, not only by Joffrey, but also by the Queen Mother in her madness. With Petyr knowing that Daemon had done something to her, Cersei hurt Sansa. And the girl was more broken than ever. Because of that, she always obeyed everything he asked, without questioning.
"Let us take a seat beside your aunt and later, we shall speak," he said as he left the tent with her, casting a look at the guards so that no one would enter there.
Sansa still glanced back, wanting to see those letters, but followed beside him toward the joust, where the lords of the Vale were gathered together with Lady Lysa Arryn.
Catelyn's sister continued to be a key piece for Littlefinger and he would use her to command the Vale in his favor, therefore he could not kill her, not yet.
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