Chapter 37
DAEMON TARGARYEN
Daemon cut through the air as he rode over the castle of Dragonstone and flew straight towards the Sea where the Royal Navy was clashing with the Iron Island scum, and as his dragon emerged and flew through the air he saw many of the Greyjoy scum cheer until he passed right over the Royal ships, and headed straight for their ships.
"Cannibal," Daemon whispered as he leaned forward, pushing away the weariness from the days of flying as he unleashed the mighty beast's rage.
"Dracarys!" and at his command, the beast opened its maw, roaring loudly as it headed straight for the side of a massive enemy ship, as it roared with all its might.
"ROAR!" and a massive torrent of fire rushed out, and burnt the ship as it literally tore through it, and took the skies once more, before taking aim at another ship.
And then another and another until the cheers had died down, and all the Greyjoy men were screaming in either agony or fear as they died. Some by the fires, others by drowning and others by both.
And Daemon watched the tides of battle shift as the Royal Navy regained its flame and began to push forth. Daemon's eyes landed on the ship leading the attack, a black-colored galley infamous throughout the seas.
The ship of Euron himself—The Silence.
He pulled on his dragon's reigns as he pushed it towards the very ship, and Cannibal landed on its deck with its massive legs, making the whole boat rock as the crew of the ship jumped down in fear at his roar, leaving him face to face with the captain of the said ship.
Their eyes met as Aegon looked at the man who was feared all over the Seas for his brutality and cruelty. He felt pleasure as he saw the man's pale face.
"You! It is you!" he heard the man snarl with his blue lips as he roared in rage, stepped forward, and took out his blade.
"All this time, you had been hiding this here! A Dragon!" he snarled, and Daemon shrugged.
"Come face me with a blade, you cur! Or is the King so afraid of little old me!" the main baited as Daemon scoffed.
"Who do you think you are to demand anything of me," Aegon's voice cut through the silence as Cannibal lowered his face.
"Fighting you with a blade," Daemon scoffed as he saw the man's eyes widen as the dragon bared its teeth.
"It would be giving you too much importance!" and with that, Cannibal roared and opened its maw while Euron Greyjoy tried to run, but it was already too late.
"Dracarys!" and the green eyes beast spewed a torrent of fire that enveloped the whole ship, and burnt Euron to a charred husk right infront of his gaze, before he flew away to Dragonstone, and as the Cannibal landed infront of the castle Gates, he saw the guards watching nervously as he jumped down.
"Open the damn gates," he ordered as he wiped away the dust and grime off his armor and walked through the castles, and there he saw his army's general rushing towards him alongside a pale and scared Paxter Redwyne.
"Your grace," they both greeted him, their voices shaking with fear. Their eyes looked beyond him at the might beast standing there as they realized that the House of the Dragon was back.
That dragons once more ruled over the skies of KIngslanding.
"Lord Redwyne," he ordered as he continued walking.
"Yes," the man answered as he began to follow after him.
"I am disappointed in the performance of the navy after this lackluster display," and he truly was. The royal navy had better ships, more ships and more men, and yet they were struggling against Euron and his men.
It was unacceptable.
"I have cut the snake's head. Do not disappoint me any further. If I have to take to skies a second time, I will be doing so with your head and badge," he thundered as the man paled and nodded, spluttering.
"I will not disappoint you, your grace," the man said, scurrying away as his gaze turned towards Randall.
"Tell me of the situation in Riverlands?" he asked, and the man had the presence of mind to not splutter as he began.
"The Riverlands are pacified. The rebellion armies hidden along the shores have been slaughtered, and the Royal army is in control of Riverrun," and with that, his issues were resolved.
"But we are receiving troubling word from the Westerlands," and Daemon smirked.
"Leave that alone. The west will be just fine," and with that, he began to climb up the stairs as he headed towards the Queen's chambers. and as the servants tried to stop him, he waved them off as he entered the chambers and was greeted with the quiet cries of a child as he found Daenerys standing there holding a bundle in her arms, while a rather weary Ashara eyed him from the birthing bed.
"I knew you would be back," she whispered as the others bowed to him as Daenerys walked forward slowly and brought forward the crying bundle, and his hair was a shining silver, and his eyes dark amethyst as the small bundle of life cried in desperation.
"Congratulations, brother, you have a son," she said, and Daemon stilled as he gazed at the child, and his eyes met with Ashara's as he gave her a nod.
"He shall be Aerion, the one who brings the dawn."
0000
EDDARD STARK
Mance Rayder, he had first become aware of the man around half a decade ago when a first ranger had made contact with the man on the King's orders. How the King knew of his name, station, and intentions is a mystery to this day.
And yet it did not matter, for the King knew of both the men and the other dangers lurking for them beside the wall. In that small conversation there had been something that had troubled the King, that had made him more wary as gold poured into the North and its castles with secret shipments of Dragonglass weapons being made both to Winterfell and to the lands beyond the North.
"I thought I would be meeting the King," the man began, and Eddard shook his head.
"Not yet," Ned answered as he settled down opposite the man, with Jon and Jeor flanking him on both sides.
"The King has chosen me as his representative as the Lord of the North, and I shall conduct these negotiations," he began as the man's eyes narrowed.
"Is there any time left for that?" the man scoffed as he leaned forward.
"You and I both know of the darkness that approaches these walls as we sit here, exchanging useless words," and Eddard himself had not seen that darkness, yet he had heard tales of it, stories that were enough to make him aware of the danger they were all in.
"Not useless," he cut in.
"The King offered you terms for his aide, and he will have your answer now. Or the gates will never open," and that was the main reason of him coming here.
The Night King's armies had set their eyes on the Fremen and their men, probably to bolster their numbers. If allowed to happen, this would be extremely disastrous, given that the White Walker army was already nearly a hundred thousand strong.
"Your King has helped us much in our time of need. But we are the Fremen, and we do not kneel," and that was the biggest of contention.
Despite his sympathies, the King had no desire to welcome Fremen into the lands unless they bent their knee, for they both agreed that doing so could cause anarchy and pandemonium, which would only harm the war efforts.
"Then you will die, because these gates will not open," Eddard answered as the man frowned.
"You will let us all die, a hundred thousand of us, just because we won't bend the knee to your masters," the man snarled.
"No," Eddard cut in, making the man frown.
"We will do it because a King's duty is to his subjects, and our King has more than three million of them, but none of them are on that side of the wall," Eddard pointed out as the man's lips thinned.
"I though the King was sympathetic to our cause, that we could have an arrangement," and that was something even he had thought. But the King Daemon had been clear in his understanding of Northern politics, for despite the relative peace in the last decade, their existed a strong animosity between the Black Brothers, and the lords near the wall, and the Fremen raiders.
All it would take would be one spark. And all of humanity would lose the war, and they could not have that.
"The King is sympathetic to your cause, it is why you wear that wool, and carry that blade," Ned pointed out.
"But you have just refused to make him your King, and he is the King to his subjects first. Not to you, not to Fremen who do not kneel," Eddard finished, and there was silence, for all the cards were now on the table.
"And what is to stop us from trying to force our way? You said so yourself. We are a hundred thousand strong," the man asked, and Jon Arryn scoffed at that.
"And yet you live only because of your grace's mercy, Fremen," the man thundered sharply.
"And these walls and its castles have never been so richly fed and manned. You could have ten times that number, and not a single Fremen would ever enter the north as long as the Night's Watch stands and guards the realm's boundaries," Eddard leaned back and looked the man in the eye.
"No man has ever won a war against the King. None. The men here including myself are living proof of that. You can try, but you will fail as all of us did, and then you shall see the dragon's wrath and believe my words when I say it, King beyond the Wall," he added as he recalled the duel between Daemon and Robert all those years ago.
"Fear the Dragon's wrath, for in his wrath you shall find only defeat, destruction, and death."
And he saw the man bite his lip; given his station, Eddard believed that he must have inquired into the nature of their King and his actions. Rumors and stories about the Dragonslayer were not so difficult to come by, and a man like Mance must have looked into it as well.
"I need to think about it," Eddard nodded as he rose up from his seat and offered the man his hand.
"It is not us who are in a hurry, Mance Rayder. So, think, but do it before the time passes," and with that, the man rose up and took his hand.
"The King made an offer. He asked us to bring him something," the man whispered, and Eddard nodded.
"Do you have them?" he asked, and the man nodded.
"Ten," and he was surprised by that number.
"The King is fair. Name your prince," Eddard asked.
"Safe passage," came the quick answer, and he had expected that.
"A thousand men, hundred for each white walker," and Eddard shook his head.
"A hundred men, ten for each walker, and I shall give you rations for a week for fifty men for each one of these," he said, and the man nodded.
"I shall have the crates sent," and with that, the man put on his cloak and left the room with Jeor, leaving him alone with Jon Arryn.
"What was that about?" the man asked.
"We have known of the threat lingering beyond the wall for years now," he began as he turned his gaze towards the true North.
"It is time that the rest of the Kingdom saw it as well," Jon's eyes widened at that insinuation.
"You cannot mean," and he nodded.
"The King asked Mance to bring him as many as he could. It seems they brought ten," and Jon sat down and made a small prayer.
"Seven forgive us all," and he doubted that the Seven cared so much.
"Make sure that this is kept a secret. Appoint only the most stoic and loyal of your men to these crates. We shall take them back with us when we return," and Jon nodded.
"I shall have Stannis see to that," and Eddard nodded as the man smiled and reached into a closet and took out some wine.
"So, tell me how things are south of the Wall," Eddard smiled.
"Well, not so different from the time you came here. You must have heard as well. The Seven Kingdoms are at war once more," and Jon nodded.
"Indeed, I received the missives," the man said as he poured him some wine and settled down beside him.
"Though I doubt it will last long," he added. Eddard gulped down a sip and nodded, savouring the sweet taste of the Arbor.
"Indeed, one simply does not win a war against Daemon Targaryen," he scoffed, remembering their own folly.
"Shame! Only if we had learned that truth a bit sooner, then Robert would still be alive today," Jon lamented, and Eddard's fist balled up, his feelings about his old friend and comrade much too complex to put into words as Jon raised his goblet.
"To Robert!" and he did the same.
"To Robert!"
0000
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