Chapter 50
In Harrenhall, Gael stood besides Galen as some fifty carts were wheeled into the castle while some hundred men worked tirelessly to shore up the castle defences.
"What is this?" she asked, and her newly wed lord husband stood beside her.
"This is how we win this war," and he was reluctant in letting her face Daemon for battle, even though Vermithor was faster and bigger than Ceraxes, and according to Laenor's words the Blood Wyrm was injured as well.
She frowned at that answer as he led her to one of the carts, and the man bowed to him.
"Open it up," he ordered, and the man quickly opened the back to reveal the monstrosity hidden inside it, and she had seen it before once.
"Scorpion," she gasped, and Galen nodded.
"Twelve of them," he answered, and that was quite a number.
"I designed the machine and metal myself," he said, and below the machine lay some rather large bolts that were nearly thrice his height, and yet Galen lowered himself and picked it up with one hand.
"It is no Valyrian Steel, but is just as light," and he offered it to her, and Gael slowly reached for it with both hands and it was unexepectedly light for its size, and it was one piece of metal, with a hollowed tip that coiled on itself.
"I scoured the histories to see how the armies of the past faced the dragonlords of the freehold, and used it all to devise the strategies for this war," and then he turned towards her.
"If my plans work you will need not life a finger to defeat Daemon in the final battle.....
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DAEMON TARGARYEN
Daemon watched as those greyrats swarmed around Mysaria, as they tried to save her life. The capital was in a full fledged rebellion, and the gates of the Red Keep had been closed down as the city descended into absolute chaos.
Daemon spoke nothing as he watched the Maesters work on her, and he needed no investigation to find out the person responsible for this.
This was that healer's work, and through the help of his grandmother the Healer's agents had made great in roads within the capital, and now without Mysaria's agents and that Clubfoot's trickery, the city would not hold out for long.
He could feel the throne slipping out of his fingers, as his entire world collapsed around him, and yet it was not meant to be like this.
He was the rightful heir to the throne.
He was now perfect, but few ever were. The people had thought that his father would be perfect yet thousands died in his reign, because of his mistakes. Yet they blamed Daemon for it.
He was their King, and yet the realm refused to bend the knee, and for a second he thought about giving it all up. He thought of leaving it all behind, and flying away on Ceraxes to a far away land to live his life in peace.
No.
Never.
That would be a coward's way, and Daemon was no coward. He was King, and he would never give up on that title.
"Mellos," he called out, and the bald Maester turned to face him.
"Yes, my lord," and Daemon found himself calm for some reason, for he had already made his mind about what lay ahead.
"Will she live?" he asked, for he knew that without Mysaria and Larys it would be impossible for him to wage a war. The only thing keeping that damn Healer's agents at bay was Mysaria, and with her gone it would not be long before the city would slip out of his fingers.
The Grand Maester refused to answer, and his silence was answer enough as Daemon turned away and walked out of the room.
Outside the doors, half a dozen guards were waiting for him and he frowned at their presence.
"What happened?" he asked, and they glanced nervously at one another before one of them gathered the courage to say it.
"Your grace, it is about the Princess Aemma," and he had just been there with her.
"What of her?" he asked.
"She has killed herself," and the words landed as harshly as they could.
"What?" and for a second he could not believe them.
"She threw herself out of the window," and he had never thought that she could ever be that brave.
"We tried to..." but he was gone before he could hear their excuses, as he walked towards his solar. No one dared to utter a word as they saw him walk through those Halls, and once he was inside his solar he could see the entire city through the window.
He could see the fires burning. He could see the people rioting, and this was not how it was meant to be.
This was not how it was meant to be.
The people. They were meant to be afraid of him. They were meant to fear him yet their hate for him transcended that fear, as they rioted as if their voices mattered at all.
He could slaughter them all. Burn them as he had in Spicetown.
But what would that accomplish. The smallfolk were like rats and cockroaches. He could crush a thousand but the second he would turn away, thousands more would take their place.
No.
The only way forward was to cut off the snake's head. All this rioting and killing. All of it was the work of his aunt and that damn healer.
There very existance was a threat to his rule and if he wished to cement himself as King, then he needed to be rid of them, as soon as possible.
She was the only pretender left. The only challenger to his title. With her gone, the rats would settle down as well.
She was their hope, and it was time that he rid the realm of that hope once and for all.
"So, war it is then," and he had hoped to avoid a direct confrontation with her, for some time but he could wait no more.
The gates would not hold for long, and with Mysaria gone daggers and poisons would come for him soon enough.
His aunt rode Vermithor, and the Bronze Fury was larger and sturdier than his Blood Wyrm. But his dragon was bloodied, and he believed that in an open confrontation he could defeat her.
He would much preferred it if all of Ceraxes wounds had healed up, but time was not on his side. He turned towards the door once more, and within a few minutes of walking he was in the yard, clad in his riding leathers once more.
He was alone. All alone.
Larys was dead. Mysaria would dead soon enough.
His entire family was gone, and the every lord and lady within the realm had turned against him.
Daemon turned and looked at the empty yard, and felt himself all alone for the first time in life.
The Blood Wyrm lowered its head, as it nustled his back making him turn towards the raging beast who was his one true companion in all of this.
"I believe it is just you and me," he whispered as he brushed his nose, and let the warmth soothe himself.
"Let us end this now," and the Blood wyrm rose up, and spread out its wings as it gave a mighty roar, as Daemon mounted its saddle and took in a deep breath.
"Soves," he whispered, and Ceraxes flapped its wings as they took to the skies once more.
He could see the city cower at the sight of his dragon, as the rats and cockroaches began to run away in panic, but he cared little for them as he looked up into the skies and flew over the city without giving the bastards any attention at all.
They rode in open skies for some two hours, and Daemon could see the tall bent towers of Harrenhall now, and the once mighty castle had been ruined by his ancestor's fire and now he would finish the conqueror's work and demolish it all.
He could hear the bells being rung around the castle, yet he saw no signs of his aunt and her dragon as he neared the castle and just as he was about to lower himself, suddenly a dark bolt rushed towards him.
GUGHHH!
And he pulled Ceraxes to the side in desperation, as the massive bolt rushed past him.
"Scorpions," he whispered, and then soon enough another bolt came for him, and Daemon found himself pulling up as the steel bolt passed below him, and he flew into the Sun as he hear men screaming in the distance.
"TURN! TURN! TURN!"
And then before he could take an account of all of the Scoprions, he heard a scream.
"SHOOT!" and with that a sea of arrows came towards him, and he pulled on Ceraxes reins, as his closed off his wings to shield him from the barrage.
"Dracarys," he shouted, as he flew towards the ground and just as the fire tore through the men on the walls as their screams filled the air, but just as he was about to burn a scropion a bolt came for him, from the other side and the steel tore through Ceraxes shoulder.
"GAHHHHHH!" his dragon roared in agony, as it wavered in the air even as its fire tore through the scorpion, and man wielding it. And as suddenly he noticed some half a dozen scorpions all aimed at him.
"SOVES! SOVES!" he screamed, and with a painful roar, Ceraxes took to the skies, and he could feel his dragon's pain as they flew into the Sun, and yet as he was flying up suddenly a roar tore through his ears and he looked up and saw a single dot above him coming down, yet as the sun ate at his vision he saw the dot split as one became three and the realization dawned on him at once.
"No," and he tried to turn, but by then it was too late and the three beasts all flew down at him at breakneck speed, and in the end all he could do was scream, as a storm of fire enveloped his sight from all sides.
"DRACARYS!" "DRACARYS!" "DRACARYS!"
"DRACARYS!"
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So, this is it. I kinda forgot about uploading it with my work and the other stories. So, here is a massive dump.
I intend to write a few eiplogues as soon as I find some time for it.
Hopefully you guys liked this.
I have a new Daemon SI fic, called Daemon the Devout. Check it out if you can.
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