Daemon could feel the imposter clutch his journal in his hand, his thumb pressing against the cover tightly; he hoped that the ink wouldn't smudge from the pressure.
'This has to work, it just has to.' The imposter seem to beg in his mind.
A rather big annoyance of this he was learning was that he had to feel everything his captor was feeling too; last night it seemed he was anxious to sleep and instead did what he always seem to do when he had a million thoughts in his head.
Write and write and write and write; idea after idea, proposal after proposal.
Gods… you need to find something else to do! Go find a serving girl and fuck her if you need to relieve some stress!
Yet Daemon knew his imposter would never do that, the feel of his thumb pressing against that bronze ring just a reminder that he was almost religiously devoted to the Bronze Bitch. That had been the last time Daemon was truly angry at him; to have himself, a Prince, be called the 'leal servant' to a mere lady? Nothing less than an insult to his standing.
Even the weakness the imposter had shown to both Yorbert and Gunthor; he was a Prince and yet he acquiesced to their demands so easily, how Daemon wished he could take back control if only just to put everyone in their place.
We are the House of the Dragon, we do not show such weakness to our lessers!
And yet, despite it all, the past year and now, it all seem to wear down his anger and persistence; the dream of the Iron throne growing more and more distant with each day, when Baelor had been born it felt as though the dream had finally died. His name dying with him and his descendants being only those Bronze lords in the Vale, he did not know if a part of him had made peace with the idea or if the part of him that angered had died.
For the past year it had felt as though a weight had covered him, he could not find it within himself to strike at the imposter as he had done before; life was dull and tedious with only brief glimpses of life when sparring with someone, riding Caraxes or even fucking Rhea.
Seeing as he partial to fucking any other woman…
And then there was spending time with Baelor.
When Daemon had looked upon the boy… and he saw his own eyes in Baelor's, he could not help be feel overwhelmed, those were the moments he felt more alive again. He wanted to hate the boy who represented the death of his ambition, and yet he could only feel pride and regret.
Maybe he has her hair, her ears and her complexion but he is still my son.
Even if he shares blood with the Bronze Bitch, he is still MY son.
He thought of his sons in other life, how they climbed the steps to the throne; how he wanted that for Baelor so much.
My son… oh my son, how I wish you could be so much more than just a lord, you should be a Prince of Dragonstone, not a lord of Runestone.
The door to the solar opened, the imposter turned his head to see Yorbert step forward into the room; where the imposter felt apprehension, Daemon felt only irritation. Even after all the grovelling the imposter had done the old man still would not give him his due.
"Prince Daemon, I hope you slept well."
Oh he didn't, trust me I can feel the exhaustion in his bones.
"I did." The imposter lied "I hope you had too."
Yorbert nodded his head as he sat next to him, a tense silence separating the two and Daemon awaited patiently and interested to see who would break it.
"Tell me, and speak true." Yorbert spoke first "Is Gunthor right?"
"Is he right about what?"
"Did you have ambitions to match Baelor to Jeyne? Did you hope to have your grandsons inherit the Eyire and become the Vale's overlord?"
The idea had intrigued Daemon greatly when Gunthor had accused the imposter of such; while he did not like the idea of Baelor sharing a similar fate to himself as the consort than an actual overlord, being the consort to Jeyne, should she remain overlord of the Vale, would bring honour and titles and his blood flowing through the veins of a great house.
That would be a fine legacy to have… better a warden than a mere lordship.
"You can believe me or not, I do not desire a match between Jeyne and Baelor." The imposter said, Daemon wished he could scoff or roll his eyes, the imposter seemed to lack any kind of ambition or imagination, content that pile of bronze. "Rhea and I had not given any thought to a match for Baelor seeing as he is but only just past his first name day."
No, it is because Jeyne only desires women…
He had searched through the imposter's knowledge of Westeros's history; discovering the Lady Jeyne had never taken a suitor and instead preferred the company of one Jessamyn Redfort. It left Daemon very perplexed as to why the imposter seem to struggle and strain himself to finding a way to preserve such a future.
All women must marry and produce heirs, that is their duty, if she desires the company of women then what of it?
"Perhaps, Lord Protector, the reason I dedicate myself to keeping Jeyne as Lady of the Eyrie is because I think a woman can rule." Had Daemon control over his mouth he would have scoffed, almost not believing the imposter's words if he couldn't feel the passion behind them "Aye there has never been a reigning Arryn queen or Lady of the Vale, but there have been plenty of kings and lords and I wager a few of them were pretty shit at it, there have been shit Targeryen kings and we have only been around for just over one hundred years now."
That had earned a hit from Daemon to the imposter, which elicited a reaction; the imposter rubbing his chest gently.
Yorbert barked out a laugh "Mayhaps." He said "Mayhaps, you are more candid than I thought, Prince Daemon."
"I am far more candid than most give me credit for." The imposter spoke.
There was a knock on the door "Lord Protector, My Prince, Lord Gunthor will be with you soon." Yorbert nodded his head.
The imposter grabbed Yorbert's shoulder "One last thing, Perra… please, reconsider."
"Hold for but a moment." Yorbert the servant before turning to Daemon "And why should I?"
Daemon knew why; it was the driving fear behind Aemma and Laena, the only difference was the imposter didn't know when she died whereas he knew when they did and planned to alter events to save them.
"Perra… she still just but a child." He spoke weakly "Mayhaps we do not have to use her hand as a guarantee, what if there was another way and what if we can just guarantee Arnold's rise to Lord without it?"
Yorbert brushed the imposter's grip once again "Mayhaps there is, but if Arnold does ascend to the throne of the Eyrie than I, her father, desire it."
Ah… he likes the idea of his grandson inheriting the Eyrie too…
Daemon could feel the anger in the imposter, the need to strike him down.
Do it… do it, you know you want to!
Daemon tried to feed his own determination and fury into the imposter, tempting him into acting. Instead it had earned him something which he had not had in a while; dark hands pulled him back just near the edge.
'No, I will not...
Gods, you are no fun!
'There must be another way-'
"If so then at least wait until she is ten and eight." the imposter said, Yorbert raised his brow "Wait until then before then, allow Perra the chance to grow into a woman, allow her to learn and become accustomed to the idea that she way be the Lady of the Vale one day."
Yorbert was silent for a moment, Daemon could feel the overwhelming anticipation within the imposter "She would be a woman-grown at six and ten-"
"My good-sister, the Lady Aemma, had a child young... she lost him in the crib and now only has just one daughter, I am sure a maester or nursemaid can tell you the toll childbirth has on a woman, let alone a girl... mine own mother she had passed giving birth to my brother."
The memory of his own mother and her final moments flooded in his mind, he did not know whether that was by his volition or the imposter.
'Another way, I have to find another way…'
You have an idea? A memory of the imposter sister once more came back to mind, a woman whose children had no father from what he could see in the imposter's memories.
"Childbed is a woman's battlefield, it is always dangerous."
The Imposter squeezed his fist, Daemon willed him to strike his Good-father. "Agree to this or I walk."
"I beg your pardon?" Yorbert spoke through gritted teeth.
"You heard me well. Agree or I walk."
There was a knock on the door "Forgive me, but Lord Gunthor-"
"Swear on your honour you'll let her wait till then." The imposter demanded.
"Damn it all, fine." Yorbert conceded. "Let him through... Damn you, Daemon." the last words spoken in a hushed tone, the imposter breathed almost audible sigh of relief.
If you could put that same desperation and anger towards rising then we'd be a force to be reckoned with.
When the door opened, the proud oaf Gunthor stepped forward; both the imposter and Yorbert standing from their seats once more.
Daemon couldn't help but feel irritated each time he saw the man.
"Lord Protector, Prince Daemon." Gunthor spoke as he took his seat.
"Lord Gunthor." Yorbert spoke to his brother as both he and the imposter sat down. "Shall we resume?"
"Yes, lets get this over with." Gunthor agreed "There was the issue of Lady Jeyne marrying and having heirs, pushing Arnold further away from the succession?"
The imposter bit the inside of his cheek before he spoke "I believe I might have come up with a solution to this."
Both Yorbert and Gunthor looked at him perplexed "Have you?" Gunthor said, the mocking in his voice was slight but there.
Honestly, you should just hit him.
"We will need to stipulate that this will only occur within her time as overlord and no one else." Daemon said "But what if we have the council approve her suitors? Should a suitor come for her hand it requires a two thirds majority on the council."
Daemon wanted to smile; seeing the machination that the imposter had set up.
"If that were to happen then Jeyne would be married to anyone, I certainly would not approve and neither would any-" Daemon now wanted to smile as the realisation hit the oaf.
Gods you are simple aren't you?
"Prince Daemon, I believe we may have found an actual term we can agree on."
"Adding to that, even when Jeyne reaches her majority and has a vote, so long as three members of the council vote against, the suitor will fail."
Not that she will.
"And Arnold will have three supporters." Yorbert said.
"Perfect, I agree to these terms." Gunthor proclaimed "I shall take these back to my camp once we have finalised everything."
"Lady Jeyne may come to resent you for this." Yorbert looked over to the imposter. "She may never marry or have children, trueborn at least."
I am sure she is currently jumping for joy over the prospect of such.
Even Daemon found the humour when she had told the Imposter that the boys were age were not to her liking.
"I have a feeling she won't." the imposter smiled. "We will need to have this approved by his Grace, my grandfather, and his small council." He spoke "No doubt my father will argue in favour this once I have written to him a raven explaining the situation and what had been agreed."
"No doubt they will, to be free of such a political headache will be a mercy for them." Gunthor jested.
"It will be a mercy for all of us." The imposter added.
"Very well." Yorbert spoke "I will have the maester ready a raven for you when done."
"One last thing, we need to show the Vale that this agreement is ironclad, that Jeyne's position is as such."
"Mayhaps, it will need a show of strength itself." Gunthor pondered "A message so that any other lord of claimant does not act."
Daemon could feel the confidence of the imposter rise within him "I may have an idea, send a raven to every lord of the Vale, I shall tell them in person."
It had taken for the maester and almost every literate person in the castle to write down letters to the Vale lords to assemble at the Eyrie and then a few weeks for them to all arrive at Eyrie. When Rhea and Baelor arrived at the Eyrie, the Imposter had sprinted to them, catching Rhea with a kiss before then holding his son.
Daemon did not know whether it was the imposter or himself, but the feeling of loss and the relief of being reunited had washed over him as he held Baelor, how he longed to be the one to actual do so.
When the lords of the Vale finally assembled in High hall, all of whom crowded onto the thin hallway facing the throne did Daemon feel the apprehension and nervous of the imposter. In a doorway behind the dais both Daemon and Lady Jeyne stood together.
The imposter had reason that it would be good for the two to be seen walking together, show the lords that House Targeryen stood by her. The imposter looked to the small child, Daemon could almost not believe that this girl would help depose his usurper nephew for Daemon's son in another life.
The imposter knelt down "Are you feeling afraid?" he asked Jeyne who nodded her head. "Remember what I said."
"Go forward bravely, fear nothing." Jeyne said. Daemon stood up and ruffled the top of her hair.
'Show time.'
Indeed.
As the two stepped out of the door did the hall fall silent "Lady Jeyne of the Eyrie and Prince Daemon Targaryen." A herald cried. The two stepped onto the dais as Jeyne climbed into the throne and the imposter faced the room, beside the thrown stood Yorbert on one side and Gunthor and Arnold on the other.
"An agreement has been reached." The imposter declared "Lady Jeyne shall henceforth be Lady of the Eyire and Warden of the East till her passing or otherwise, the heir shall be her cousin Arnold Arryn." He looked around the hall, Daemon knew there was two people he was looking for; his eyes spotting Rhea and Baelor, whom were on the other side of the hall away from the Moon Door. "Guarantees are in place to maintain the agreement; first, the council is to include both supporters of the Lady Jeyne and Lord Arnold. Secondly, the council shall have the final word on Jeyne's suitors. And finally, Lady Perra Royce is to be betrothed to Lord Arnold."
Unsurprisingly the hall erupted into gasps and talking "Silence!" Yorbert commanded, the hall growing still.
"We await approval of this agreement from his Grace, my grandfather, and the small council." The imposter announced "We are in no doubt they will approve." The imposter walked forward, taking a step forward, his hand gripping the pommel of Darksister. "Lady Jeyne, please step forward." He asked, turning to the girl.
Jeyne hopped off the throne and walked close to the edge of the dais, leaving a small gap.
Daemon creased over what was about to happen; he had known about it and disapproved, even if he saw and recognised the significance.
Perhaps that is why I dislike it.
The imposter drew out the legendary sword and faced Jeyne, some of the guards around her looked tense as their hands rested on the pommel of their swords. The imposter gripped the handle and lowered the blade into his other hand, holding it as if to offer it to Jeyne.
Gently and deliberately he placed the sword by Jeyne's feet.
The imposter turned back towards the crowd "If anyone is in any doubt that House Targeryen will defend the rights of Lady Jeyne Arryn then doubt no longer, should danger befall the lady I swear upon mine own honour that I shall come to defend her." He declared to all in attendance.
The imposter, leaving Darksister by Jeyne's feet, walked down the steps and towards the Moon Door, two guards standing ready "Of course I do not intend on doing this alone." He announced to them. He looked to the guards and nodded his head. The guards then began to remove the heavy bronze bars from the door.
Daemon could feel the anticipation, the nervousness, the anxiety and fear that coursed through his body at the imposter's doing. And yet Daemon himself began to feel strong; as the imposter drew strength from him, as if devouring from Daemon's table, Daemon felt him grow stronger and stronger.
For the first time since he begged Caraxes not to kill him… Daemon moved his hand; clenching it into a fist as the imposter shut his eyes, feeling the wind suck him towards the ever widening entrance. Those in attendance quickly moved back.
As the imposter turned to face them, Daemon could no longer feel fear in his body, only the strength that he himself had supplied. He spotted Rhea looking at him, worry writ on her face, she held onto Baelor closely as Daemon took a few steps back
I guess you broke your promise about doing nothing foolish
"Caraxes!" the imposter called out, his voice echoing off the walls.
Within a few seconds of silence a distance roar could be heard. Then another, this time much closer. Then closer.
Until even the flapping of wings could be heard over the howling winds.
This time the roar could be heard, loud and clearly.
Daemon did not need to imagine what was behind him as the shadow of Caraxes blocking out the light that poured through the door and the gasping faces of those lords and ladies looked on. The imposter wore a devious smile which matched Daemon's own emotions.
Have must say… here you have outdone yourself.
"If anyone wishes to challenge this arrangement or wish to threaten the rights of Lady Jeyne then I welcome you to try." The imposter declared "You will have to go through myself and Caraxes first." His eyes watched over all those in the hall "Any objections?" he asked. Those in attendance stayed silent. "Good!" he turned behind, Caraxes clinging to the walls of the castle as it peered it's head looking in. "Caraxes! Sōvēs!" he commanded, the dragon detached it's claws from the wall and took flight as the Moon door was shut and barred. "Enough standing around, we should celebrate yes?"
"Everyone head to your quarters, the servants shall prepare everything in the High Hall later this evening." Yorbert informed them, without a second to wait those attending quickly left the hall. With only Rhea and Baelor left alone, who marched towards the dais.
The imposter walked back and took Darksister back in his hands, placing it in his scarab. "Lady Jeyne." He said smiling "Stand proud, you were brave today." Jeyne smiled back and bowed her head. He turned to Arnold "Lord Arnold, congratulations on your betrothal."
"You have my thanks, my Prince." Arnold said
"I am sure you shall treat my good-sister well." The imposter said "And myself and Caraxes will get on with yourself joyously." Daemon enjoyed the sight of the young lord almost shrinking as the imposter placed a firm hand on his shoulder as he smiled at the boy.
"Come Arnold, let us prepare for the feast." Gunthor said to his squire, likely much to Arnold's relief.
"Lady Jeyne, head back to your quarters and await there for the time being." Yorbert ordered, Jeyne was quickly curtseyed to those left before a servant escorted her away.
"Father, hold Baelor for me." Rhea said, giving Yorbert his grandson, not a second after he had been taken from her hands did Rhea grabbed the imposter by the neck collar and pulled him down roughly to meet her face to face.
Daemon wanted to wince.
She didn't hit you, that must mean she loves you.
"I told you not to do anything foolish." She told him, pointing her finger at the imposter "And what do you do? She choked back a cry before throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace "Never do such a thing again." She commanded, her face buried in his chest.
If not for the shock the imposter would have found this funny, yet he placed his hand on her back and whispered words of reassurance to her.
Strange… I should be angry at her for thinking she could command me…
The moment was interrupted by rushed footsteps, a serving girl rushed over to them "Lord Protector, Prince Daemon, Lady Royce." She said, bowing her head quickly "A letter has arrived from King's Landing, it bears the seal of the hand." the serving girl quickly rushes over to Yorbert who hands Baelor to the her as he takes the letter.
Both Rhea and the imposter turn to him.
Yorbert breaks the seal and unrolls the parchment, his eyes looking at each line.
Daemon notices all the colour drain from his face.
"Father, what is the matter." Rhea asked, "Is something wrong?"
Yorbert looks to Daemon. In that moment both he and the imposter knew, the day they knew and dread had come.
"Daemon, good-son, I-"
"No." The imposter interrupted him "Please don't say it, do not say those words."
I thought we had more time…
"Father, what is it?" Rhea took the letter from her hand, covering her mouth as she too looked at him
The imposter stepped back and almost tripped had he not collapsed onto his knees, Rhea quickly rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around him as the imposter stared blankly at the floor, his breathing staggered and weak.
I thought I had more time…
Yorbert walked towards him, kneeling down and placing a hand on his shoulder "You have my condolences, Prince Daemon." He said handing him the letter. The imposter could not look at it and Daemon could not have been more grateful.
His throat and mouth begged for water, his heart racing through his chest and yet the imposter could not move a muscle and neither could Daemon as Rhea held him, muttering a hundred different apologises through her own tears.
When his eyes did fall on the letter did it all seem real.
'Prince Daemon of the House Targaryen,'
'It with great sadness that I must inform you that Prince Baelon, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, has passed away suddenly. Myself, the other members of the small council and the Realm grieve with you and your brother Viserys Targeryen.'
'Your father had received your letter before his sudden passing and approved the terms you had agreed upon, it is with a heavy heart and great pride that I tell you he was proud of your work during those tumultuous times and had urged those in the council to inform you of such.'
'I ask that you attend his funeral in King's Landing, where his Grace, Jaehaerys Targaryen, your brother Prince Viserys, your niece Princess Rhaenyra and good-sister Lady Aemma Arryn await you and your family.'
'We mourn for the loss of a man who would have been a great king.'
'Hand of the King, Otto Hightower.'
A thousand thoughts ran through Daemon mind and yet all he could hear was silence.
Father… he was my father…
"Father…" he muttered as the imposter gripped Rhea back as both of them wept.