Barristan Selmy stood outside the entrance to the King's chamber with a heavy heart. He had felt a large amount of guilt weigh heavily on him ever since Harrenhal and the supposed betrayal of Daemon. He knew in his heart Daemon was not a traitor, he had joined Barristan in saving the king during the defiance of Duskendale; Daemon had told Barristan that he just wished to live a simple life with those that he loved and that was the only reason he became strong. He had no ambitions for titles or power, he just wanted to live peacefully.
Which was why Barristan knew of Rhaegar's betrayal. He knew that Rhaegar must've done something to the King, as paranoid as Aerys was he loved Daemon more than his own children and wouldn't take Rhaegar's word for it. It broke his heart to think that Rhaegar was not the kind young man who would play his harp for the people in King's Landing, that their laughter when they would drink together was false. Barristan knew better than anyone that Aerys was not a good king, while the realm prospered under his rule he was still as close to a tyrant as one could be. He hoped that Rhaegar would be the one to change that, to make the last decade of suffering under his father's rule mean something.
'Things never change for the better it seems,' Barristan thought to himself. He couldn't help but reminisce about the first tourney he had taken part in. When he had rode against Prince Duncan as a mystery knight. He often wondered how things would've been had Aegon and most of the Targaryens not perished in Summerhall. What would Ser Duncan the Tall advise him to do about the situation he found himself in? Were his oaths as a Kingsguard more important than his oaths as a knight, should he continue to protect a tyrant capable of all manner of evil?
Barristan pushed those thoughts away as he saw someone approaching at quite a quick pace. He saw that it was Varys, the master of whisperers, and the one who did his best to enflame the paranoia of Aerys. "Ser Barristan, I'm afraid I carry grave news from here and across the narrow seas, I must see the King," Varys said in his light almost childlike voice.
"The King has asked not to be disturbed," Barristan said, repeating what the King had told him.
"I'm afraid this can't wait, it concerns the whole kingdom," Varys insisted as he stepped closer.
Barristan sighed and knocked on the King's door. He did not receive an answer so he knocked again. After not hearing another response he opened the door to the King's chambers to see him sitting in the dark by an unlit fireplace. The King had not been doing well ever since Rickard Stark had removed his arm from his body; he could not comprehend how such an injury was able to befall him, he who was as close to a god as a man could become.
The King had tried to bring healers from all over to try and reattach his arm, but it seemed that Rickard's aura had strengthened after death, and his words about making a god bleed prevented the injury from ever being healed. Even stopping the bleeding was becoming difficult, the king had to constantly cauterise the wound to stop it from bleeding and yet the injury would eventually always return to the way it was. Ever since it happened the King had become increasingly paranoid, seeing enemies everywhere, if it was possible for a no one from the north to hurt him then there could be other people waiting to strike. He had stayed in his chambers ever since it happened and made sure to have Kingsguard patrol every corridor of the Red Keep on an hourly basis while one protected his room.
"Your Grace, Varys is here with a report," Barristan said clearly.
"Yes... yes... Varys, have you done as I've instructed," Aerys asked as he turned his head to the two men before muttering to himself.
"Yes your Grace, I sent the letter, but I'm afraid I've come back with dire news," Varys replied.
"Speak..." Aerys commanded.
"Jon Arryn, Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark have declared open rebellion against the crown, it is also safe to assume Hoster Tully will be joining them," Varys explained.
Barristan knew this was an eventuality. Rhaegar kidnapping Lyanna and Lysa, and then the King killing Brandon Stark and his father, there would've been no other recourse but for war. "Those TRAITORS, I'LL BURN THEM ALL I WILL!!!" He shouted as he slammed his hand down in his chair breaking the armrest.
"I'm afraid the news doesn't end there your grace, across the narrow sea in Myr it seems an old friend of ours has taken command of the Golden Company," Varys said much to the surprise of the other men.
"Daemon Silver who now goes by Daemon Blackfyre is now the Captain-General and commands a force of over 10,000 men, most of whom are professional fighters," Varys explained.
Barristan couldn't contain his shock and felt his jaw slack. The Golden Company wouldn't let anyone just walk in and command them, they would rather choose death than serve another house than the black dragon. That meant that Daemon had to have been a Blackfyre, that was the most likely explanation. He was never a bastard, he was the last male member of one of the most dangerous enemies House Targaryen has ever faced.
The King chuckled "Daemon is no Blackfyre he would never betray me in such a way," he said seemingly forgetting about condemning Daemon as a traitor.
"They say that he wields Blackfyre, the ancestral sword of House Targaryen," Varys continued.
It all suddenly made sense to Barristan, he had always thought it was strange that a Valyrian steel sword would have such a simple handle; most families spend fortunes just to get one so they make sure to have the handle design be as unique as possible, but Daemons sword was a simple leather handle, something he always found strange. 'He was hiding the handle as there was bound to be someone who recognised it as Blackfyre,' Barristan thought to himself as he pieced it all together.
Barristan started to consider whether it was all just an act, his entire relationship with Daemon and whether he wanted the Iron Throne for himself. He was more than strong enough to take it, especially if he could defeat the King. "Daemon Silver is not a Blackfyre, I will not hear these lies again!" The King shouted at Varys who merely bowed his head in respect.
"Start calling the banners, I want these rebels dealt with immediately!" Aerys said with anger dripping from his voice.
"And call my son! He's spent enough time with his northern whore, he can damn well clean up this mess he's made."
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Lyanna felt tired, for a while she felt like she was on the edge of sleep, constantly moving back and forth not being able to choose one or the other. When her eyes finally opened she could see nothing but a blur, her mind felt hazy and her body felt weak. Her first reaction was to move her hands down her body and to her belly, it had grown a bit bigger which made her wonder how long she had been asleep. She could feel the heartbeat of her baby from within her stomach and most of her worries drifted away; her vision was still blurry and when she tried to move she couldn't, it felt as if all the strength had been sapped from her body.
She didn't know how long it took but her vision eventually cleared and she saw she was in a simply designed room. The heat let her know she must be somewhere further south, but apart from that she couldn't guess as she couldn't even leave the bed yet. 'I must be in a keep of some kind,' she thought to herself. As she tried to figure out how she had come to be here she remembered Lysa, worry sparked within her as she wished to find out the fate that had befallen her friend. She hoped that Rhaegar had left her alone once she had been taken, but she wasn't hopeful.
Her head whipped around to the door as it creaked open. Inside walked a servant with a tray of food, she looked young but the expression on her face indicated a difficult life. "Where... am...I," Lyanna croaked out her throat felt dry and it felt like she was gargling gravel in her mouth.
The servant walked over to her bed and placed the tray on the table. "You shouldn't be talking, you need to rest and gather your strength," she said as he picked up a glass of what looked like milk and raised it to her mouth. Lyanna happily accepted it and drank greedily though this resulted in her choking slighting. "Shhhh you need to be quiet," the servant said with a panicked look on her face as she drew the milk back.
"You have to go back to sleep, they won't do anything to you if you aren't awake, they still think the potion they gave you hasn't worn off, so stay asleep," The servant warned, before bringing the milk to her lips again and letting Lyanna drink again.
"I'll leave the food here for you but don't eat the bread, eat the filling inside so it looks like you haven't touched it," she instructed.
"My... friend... Lysa," Lyanna croaked out in worry.
"You were brought here alone, I don't know about anyone called Lysa I'm sorry," the girl said regretfully. The girl then turned her head as she heard something "Close your eyes, I'll see you soon," she said. The door then opened and Rhaegar walked in with Arthur at his heels.
"Has there been any change?" Rhaegar asked.
"No milord, she still sleeps, I think perhaps the dose she was given was too strong," The servant girl suggested.
Rhaegar frowned "Perhaps, Arthur where's the closest Maester?" He asked.
"There is one at Skyreach but that is still a week's travel away," Arthur said tonelessly.
Rhaegar rubbed his chin "We'll wait a bit longer before getting the rats involved, keep an eye on her and let me know if anything changes," He commanded and the servant girl bowed.
Rhaegar nodded with satisfaction before walking out of Lyanna's room allowing her to open her eyes again. She had to control herself from not trying to reach over and kill the silver-haired prick for what he did to her, but she knew she wasn't strong enough yet and even if she was, she doubted she could do much against Arthur Dayne.
"Rest now... I'll try to help you as best I can," the girl said with a sad smile.
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Daemon could not sleep, he lay on his back looking at the ceiling of his tent. A maelstrom of anger and hatred flowed within him like a storm with only himself to hold it from exploding out of him. It's why he had resorted to this cold and emotionless facade, if he were to show the slightest bit of emotion he was afraid his aura would explode out of him and devastate the camp.
"Daemon?"
Daemon turned his head as he heard a soft voice echo from the entrance to his tent. "What is it, Serra?" He asked emotionlessly. Serra did not reply however and walked into his tent before undressing into her small clothes and climbing into the bed with him. "We will get our revenge brother, and get your family back," she whispered as she released her aura.
Daemon felt her soothing aura wash over him and while it did nothing to pacify the hate and anger within him it did make it easier to contain. It allowed him to relax a little and finally close his eyes "Thank you..." he said quietly as he started to drift off to sleep with Serra sleeping on top of him, her aura covering him like a blanket.
"We shall never be separated again."
...
The next day Daemon simply sat in a seat at the edge of the camp overlooking Myr. He was waiting for his messenger to return from Magisters of Myr, his officers and even Serra had protested at the message he had sent but Daemon would not play politics anymore. He needed ships and the Myrish would provide them, or he would simply take them. In the distance he saw a rider leaving the city gates and so he stood up from his seat; Howland who was next to him meditating snapped out of it and stood up with him. The boy had been shocked of late, learning his lord was a Blackfyre had been a lot, but learning his twin sister was the captain-general of the golden company sent him to the ground. In truth, he had been a bit scared of Daemon ever since had read that letter.
"What did they say?" Daemon asked as soon as the rider was within speaking distance.
The rider looked afraid to even talk to Daemon having been on the receiving end of his malicious Aura. "T-They s-said to take your bastard self and your bastard army to another city, and that they would give you nothing," the rider said as his hands shook with fear.
"Get off," Daemon said simply as he started to approach the rider and the horse. The rider practically leapt off the horse which allowed Daemon to mount it and ride towards Myr. Daemon rode the horse fast to Myr as his anger started to bubble to the surface, he did not like what he was about to do but he had warned them and so he was now making good on his threat.
'Aura Mimicry: Barristan Selmy'
'Aura Mimicry: Aerys Targaryen'
He released his aura from his body that had already been boosted by Barristan's ability 'The Bold' and jumped off the horse in front of the gates of Myr. He raised his hand up and started to form a sphere of flames in his palm that just kept on growing bigger and bigger. The men on the wall started to panic as they saw Daemon preparing to attack Myr; numerous soldiers started to launch crossbow bolts towards Daemon however they burned up before they could even get close to him.
The sphere grew so big that it could engulf a third of the city. What Daemon did next shocked everybody, instead of throwing the sphere and burning everyone alive he sent the sphere above the city and then walked away. The giant sphere of flames was left floating barely a couple dozen metres above the tallest building, and it was easy to figure out what Daemon had done. A myrish guard knocked a cup of water off the table and saw it nearly instantly evaporate.
Daemon had made the whole city uninhabitable and if people did not start to leave soon then they would start to suffer and die under the intense heat of his ability. The men of his camp looked at him with pure reverence while some looked at him in horror. Those who remember serving under Maelys know they even he did not command such power as this. Howland felt horrified at what Daemon was doing, while he had not killed anyone yet he had condemned people to a slow death underneath the scorching heat.
However Daemon did not care, he needed ships and the Myrish had ships, but were unwilling to give them. Two things would happen now, they would all die under the heat and he would walk in and claim them with little effort, or they would attempt to negotiate by coming to his camp and grovelling at his feet. Daemon took a seat in his chair at the edge of camp and watched as aura users from Myr sent attack after attack at the sphere in the sky only for it to do nothing.
"Daemon... is this really the best course of action," Howland asked with concern in his voice.
"No... it's the quickest," Daemon replied coldly.
Serra had come over to look at the ability and shook her head in disbelief "Your power is truly incredible, I'm sure the magisters will realise their mistake soon," She said with a chuckle as she placed her chin on his shoulder and draped her arms around him. In queue the three of them saw riders heading out of the city to their camp, from their fine robes and copious amounts of jewellery it was clear to see these were people of import.
"I am Magister Laro, I have been sent to negotiate, To whom may I speak," the rider at the front said as he was backed by a couple of guards.
Daemon said nothing initially and just sat and watched "Why would I waste my time negotiating?" He then said abruptly causing the man's gaze to shift to him.
"You want ships do you not, I'm sure some arrangement can be agreed upon, I know the Golden Company has quite a large amount of gold," Laro said as he tried to gain something for the magisters.
Daemon looked up at him and Laro shivered under his gaze "This is not a negotiation, you give me what I want or you will die." He then clicked his fingers and everyone watched as the sphere above the city started to grow larger.
"Do we have an accord?"
(AN: Daemon has become a bit unhinged as of late as I'm sure you have noticed. But all people have a little darkness in them, look at Gon he was a little psycho. Anyway hope you enjoyed the chapter)
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