[Chapter Size: 2800 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Winterfell.
...
...
The door opened slowly.
"How are you, sir?"
Daemon was entering the library of Castle Black, with Maester Aemon turning his gaze toward him.
"Oh, my boy, you're here. It wasn't enough to bring a dragon to stay above the Wall that can talk, but you brought two more today!" he said, while Daemon closed the door and approached the maester with a smile.
"You saw them? I got Viridrax recently. Took him from a fool pretending to be part of our family," he said with a smile and sat beside the maester.
While Aemon was still a little shaky, Daemon took his hand.
"It's good to see you, Uncle Aemon."
"You seem to have traveled a long way. I thought you'd still be fighting in the southern wars..." the maester murmured.
Since Daemon had just finished the meeting with his uncle and the Lord Commander in a room much farther away than the maester could manage to reach, after all, he could only walk from his room to the library next door, they still hadn't spoken, so it was normal for Aemon not to know the news yet.
"To tell the truth, maester, the war is over. I stole the dragons and also this," Daemon said, removing Blackfyre from his dimensional space, the sword appearing in one of his hands.
"Oh... that blade..." he murmured, touching the Valyrian steel in the middle, where there was no edge, with trembling hands, feeling the sword and seeming emotional.
"It's legitimate. It may have come from the enemy's hand, but it still returned to us. And in my other hand, which you already know about, Dark Sister is here as well." The other blade appeared right after in his free hand.
"So it really was a Blackfyre you faced in the south... Your uncle Benjen informed me. He said Lord Bran Stark investigated for you," he commented.
Daemon nodded. "They were plotting from the beginning, uncle. They were trying to place a Blackfyre on the throne. Their rebellions failed before, so they turned to this scheme. Varys was a Blackfyre and tried to place his nephew there, who is the son of his friend Illyrio Mopatis... or at least he was, since I killed him without knowing that at the time."
Aemon nodded. "You also spoke of the maesters... There were so many enemies within our house," he said sadly.
"It's not the first monarchy I've seen, uncle. The royal family will always have greedy people trying to gain benefits or even overthrow it. Maybe in the coming years things will calm down, but soon, when Daenerys and I are dead and our descendants take the throne, there will be more political wars. Unfortunately, this is a war without end."
Daemon spoke while Aemon nodded, still unable to stop wearing a saddened expression at those words. But there was no denying it: the war of thrones would always happen. There would always be greedy people trying to profit, especially from the chaos and the fall of House Targaryen.
The war had not suffered only from external fronts. Although there were also conflicts within the family itself, there were the enemies Aerys had created through his madness. There were the maesters, who were becoming even more agitated with the revolt and conspiring against House Targaryen. And there were the greedy ones already planning to profit from the fall of the Targaryens; after all, there had been people wanting to encourage the reason for Rhaegar kidnapping Lyanna to start the war, before Brandon went to King's Landing, of course. After all, what Aerys did afterward made any negotiation beyond repair.
And there was also Varys, trying to place his Blackfyre nephew on the throne and fulfill the dream he had sworn to his mother before becoming a slave in Essos. He himself encouraged every unfavorable situation for the Targaryens and must have fueled many of Aerys's enemies while hiding schemes.
But in a monarchy, times like these were more normal than most imagined. If House Targaryen was not strong enough, it would commit the same mistakes of the past, and greedy eyes would continue fostering its downfall. Some of these problems were created by the house itself... After all, sometimes they were right when they said that when a Targaryen was born, the gods flipped a coin to decide whether they would be worthy or mad.
Daemon would try to work on all of this. After all, he would not live forever in this world, and the problems would return for his descendants to face. Even though it was a problem they themselves would have to deal with in the future, Daemon would still try to restructure the house with rules that weakened the emergence of vulnerabilities and also prevented the rise of terrible kings.
"Even so, my boy, I must congratulate you.... You managed to bring both Valyrian steel swords and the dragons back to House Targaryen, along with a conquered crown. I can die satisfied knowing my house has returned and that a child will be born from two Targaryens, continuing the bloodline I once thought was alone and lost... Now, if I may not ask for too much, I would like to hear how your battles in the South went. Instead of hearing reports from your uncle, I would rather hear it from you directly," he requested.
Daemon nodded. "No problem."
He began recounting everything from the moment he left the North and marched south, dealing with House Frey, the ironborn, the Tullys, the lords of the Riverlands, and then the Lannisters of the West, finally moving on to King's Landing.
When mid-afternoon arrived, Daemon finally stepped out of the elevator that led to the top of the Wall. His eyes settled on the figure standing there.
No other ranger approached. Everyone feared the dragon, merely respecting Daemon's wish when coming near.
Odahviing did not even look at him when Daemon pulled a bottle of wine and another goblet from his space, placing them right beside the dragon while leaning against the dragon's body, drinking and watching the North.
The dragon said nothing, nor did he look at him, despite the gazes of the Night's Watch members observing the scene from far away, since everyone was curious to see how the dragon would react.
They only watched Daemon and the dragon in silence for several minutes. At least the dragon did not threaten Daemon or seem irritated by his presence beside him.
"You could have caught that Euron that night," Daemon broke the silence.
"I know, but I didn't want to."
Daemon drank in silence for a few minutes. "You're annoying sometimes, but I forgive you," Daemon said simply.
The dragon snorted. "You asked me to protect this wall of ice, and here we are, not to kill that little dragon. That's what I'm doing. That dragon will not touch this wall of ice, not while I'm here," Odahviing said.
Daemon shrugged while returning to his drink. He had a good stock of wine, obviously. He had robbed both the treasury of King's Landing for the second time and the one at Storm's End, as well as taken the throne.
He would still have to go south. Unfortunately, they had done nothing more than capture members of House Martell and the Tyrells in their strongholds. What Daemon truly wanted was to capture Myrcella Waters, who should still be in Sunspear, rob the Martell treasuries, and also take the seat of their stronghold, the Sunspear and Spear Chair.
Just as he needed to take the treasury of Highgarden and also its seat, the throne of Highgarden. After all, he had been collecting the seats of the great houses. Daemon already had the Iron Throne, the Winter Throne, the Seastone Chair, the Tullys' throne, the throne of the Rock, and the throne of the Baratheons. What remained were the thrones of the Tyrells, the Martells, and the Arryns.
He would make a point of placing them around the Iron Throne in King's Landing, to decorate and represent the Second Conquest of Westeros carried out by a Targaryen, just as Aegon had done with the thousand swords conquered in battle when he unified each kingdom and created the Iron Throne. Daemon would make the throne room even more decorative.
But he would only do that when he returned south and began reorganizing the kingdoms. Daemon turned his attention to Odahviing beside him.
"What do you think of this world?" he asked curiously, wanting to hear the opinion of the Dovah dragon.
He hadn't had much time to talk with him when he summoned him in King's Landing that night, after conquering the dragons.
"This world is weak. The magic may even seem normal here, but that's because of this wall of ice. When I arrived at the place where you summoned me, that human city, and traveled here... it was possible to feel that this world lacks magic. There was even a little in that place, but because of the dragons that were there."
"That's true," Daemon said. "They say the dragons died and magic died along with them. They only returned when the dragons were born again, but it's still extremely weak." Daemon laughed.
Compared to the other world, magic there was almost nonexistent, to tell the truth. Daemon was lucky for possessing a great magical core within his body, being an archmage in two schools of magic, which was why he could use his powers so much, but recovering that magic was extremely slow.
In Tamriel, he could completely drain himself and, within a few hours, already be back to one hundred percent. There, it would take at least two or three days.
He was still lucky for never needing to use so much magic to the point of completely drying out his core. And all Thu'um used more soul energy than magic itself, which made recovery easier, although the recovery of the soul was still much slower than in the other world.
"Will you rule this world?" Odahviing asked.
"That's what I intend. This is my place in the end," he replied. "Even though I once wished for a peaceful life, the main reason I'm here is precisely because I have a blood debt. My family was unjustly murdered here."
"You could return after finishing all your vengeance, dovahkiin."
"No... I don't see myself returning, because I already did in Tamriel what I was supposed to do. Here I can live peacefully, despite having many problems ruling lands as vast as Tamriel's. This world is still my home, it never stopped being... I belong to this place," Daemon said.
There was no denying it: that was his world now, but he had always felt that it was his home.
"I just feel a little upset about my friends and all the people I met in the other world," Daemon added.
"After you defeated Alduin, a cycle had to change," Odahviing replied with his philosophical words.
"I wonder what Akatosh will do now. Alduin served as the entity meant to end cycles, to destroy worlds and allow something new to be reborn... Obviously, he lost himself to pride... tried to use all of you and wanted to become a god..."
"We do not know what our father will do now, but it is very likely that someone should replace Alduin or something similar, after all Alduin was always a metaphysical concept, he represents the end so that a new world may be born. Perhaps he wants a new type of dragon, one with more restrictions so that he does not become as ambitious as our tyrant brother," Odahviing murmured.
"Well, that's a problem for the higher gods..." Daemon did not care.
Odahviing seemed to treat him as an equal, considering him almost a god and even calling Alduin himself a brother in front of Daemon.
Daemon could not help but think about the order of things... Akatosh, the lord of the concept of time, who was considered his father, was only a fourth-category being among the powers. The Daedric Princes were beneath them... There were even greater entities.
And according to Daemon's transfer from this world to the world of Tamriel when he was only eight namedays old, it came from something superior to the Daedric Princes. It may have been Akatosh himself, perhaps another Aedra, which is the name of the category of gods like Akatosh, or perhaps something even higher, after all there were three other categories of gods. And the gods of this world are in the same category as the Princes or below them, given their interest in becoming involved in this place as well.
"Well, I think I'll leave the Wall to you. I'll stay a few more weeks in the South and then return. Can I count on you to eliminate that fool Greyjoy once and for all? I don't like that man and I don't care if you simply destroy him."
"So it shall be done, dovahkiin. Do not worry this time," Odahviing said.
Daemon nodded and began walking away, holding his goblet of drink.
The men who listened to the conversation with the dragon — who spoke louder — could not understand exactly the meaning of the words, but they certainly looked at Daemon approaching and stepped aside to let him pass, as if they were standing before more than a king.
More than a man.
A demigod, probably.
And if they thought the king was that, Daemon's next action confirmed it even more, because he simply did not use the elevator.
He threw himself off the Wall.
Cries came from above as people looked downward, bringing their hands to their heads when they saw the body falling from the top of the Wall. Before the impact, two green squares began intertwining with one another, with floating lines being drawn around Daemon and slowing him down.
The next moment, he was floating above Castle Black.
While the Watch pointed and stared at the man doing something that should not be possible among mortals, Daemon passed over the wall and advanced toward where the dragons were.
Daemon had no patience to descend using the extremely slow elevator. He even regretted it. He would rather have climbed the Wall itself with his bare hands, and it would not have been the first time he had done something like that. After all, when he came from the North to the South for the first time after eight years away from that world, he had done exactly that to see his uncle.
In any case, Daemon landed near the dragons while observing them, confirming that everything was fine with them.
Viridrax seemed slightly bothered by the snow, while Winter looked magnificent.
The fire and ice dragons certainly had their own preferences. Winter loved the North, while hating Dorne.
Viridrax was the opposite. Although he had not yet gone to Dorne with him, Daemon could tell that the dragon felt much better in the South than in that extreme cold.
Daemon returned to Castle Black while speaking with the Lord Commander about more serious matters.
After that, they left, asking for the gate to be opened as they rode on horseback through the passage.
"I see you've repaired this place," Daemon said, looking at the tunnel he had devastated when he attacked the Watch.
"Many moons have passed, almost a year. So we had time to deal with everything, but it wasn't easy," Jeor said.
"I remember killing someone important when I blew up this tunnel. What was his name again?" Daemon asked in a malicious tone.
"Alliser Thorne. Well... he was quite a grumbling fellow. His death made many rangers happy," Jeor muttered with a grunt. Although he seemed somewhat dissatisfied, he said nothing more.
The gate opened, and they continued riding until they reached the middle of the space between the Wall and the northern forest, where Daemon stopped together with the other men and began using his magic.
Barrel after barrel of wildfire began appearing, stacked on top of one another.
All the barrels Daemon had taken from beneath King's Landing — those that had not been used in the attempt to blow up his army at the gate, but had been hidden by Cersei Lannister — began to be placed there.
They no longer had any purpose, so they would be used in that war.
"As we agreed, you must create several traps while I bring the army. This will wipe out part of the enemy forces, so spread them far enough that they won't damage the Wall," Daemon said while making at least one hundred and fifty barrels appear.
It was not something that would destroy a gigantic army, but it would cause enormous devastation. Tens of thousands would be caught, and the dead would not even notice the traps being prepared.
"It shall be done," Jeor said.
"Well, now let's head back." Daemon placed a huge tarp over the barrels, which would soon be covered by snow.
Over the next moons, Jeor would have to work on this together with the Night's Watch in preparation for the war.
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