…Chapter Start
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King's Landing (297 AC)
The air of King's Landing was not what one would expect from it being the capital of the kingdom. One would expect that the capital of the 7 Kingdoms would be the cleanest place in the land, right?
'I'll never get over how the capital smells like shit—seriously how the hell can the king allow this?' Daemon said to himself, not daring to say this aloud or he could face some serious trouble.
Daemon was currently outside of the Red Keep and, to be specific was located on the street of Silk. For the uninitiated, it was the place where most lords and Knights visited when they wanted to unwind and the place where a certain someone was located.
Now uncharacteristically, Daemon was wearing a black coat with golden details as he carried himself regally which was befitting for someone of his lineage but would be hidden from the outside as it was covered with a black cloak that covered some parts of his face and his hidden dagger on his hip as he navigated through the crowd.
"Knowing Uncle Tyrion, he would be at Chataya's probably fucking a whore or two," Daemon said while smirking at the last bit.
While walking, he takes in the vulgarity of what's happening around him, hearing the occasional cuss words, and even, at one point, he bypassed someone fucking a whore in an alley. If her moans were anything to go by, she was rather enjoying it.
Quickly moving in the night and with the scent of the area, he sped up his movement before arriving at Chataya's brothel. Daemon stood outside the building and would take a breath…before exhaling and entering the establishment.
'Let's just pick him up and leave.' Daemon, upon entering, would see girls serving wine to patrons, men sitting around bars or women, and the occasional men doing actions that would have made him grimace at first glance.
'No matter how many times I enter these establishments I still won't understand why they don't get a room.' He said internally. As he was walking he would have walked past a couple of women who were sitting on a sofa winking and calling out to him,
"Look how handsome that one is~" One replied.
"C'mere pretty boy~let me show you a good time~~," Another said.
The sultry in their tone would have normally worked on most who had entered the brothel but Daemon would stay true to himself and keep his head straight! Well, that is until a lady 'accidentally' bumped into him and seductively placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Oh my~ sorry Milord, how can I be of service~?" She said now Daemon wouldn't be a liar and not say she wasn't beautiful as she had brown hair, brown eyes, and a shapely figure, but he was soon to be a knight and was a boy he shouldn't taint himself—but that didn't mean the thought didn't cross his mind.
"Sorry not looking for any—actually, do you know where a man this tall is currently?" Daemon asked while gesturing at his hip to give a visual of Tyrion's height.
"Mhm~ well, milord, that would come at a price, don't you think so too?" The unnamed Lady replied back.
"Fine." He said shortly before taking out 5 silver stags and handing them to her.
The woman's eyes widened as she didn't expect to be given such an amount of information on someone in the brothel—maybe this individual was actually a lord? Further, she analyzed his features that seemed more likely, and it was safe to say he was one of the best-looking guys she had met in a long time.
"The Imp is just about 10 paces ahead and to the right, milord." She replied, swiftly pocketing her money before leaving in case he wanted the money back.
Daemon watched her leave, taking a good second to remember her before moving toward the location that was given to him. After a while, he would be staring at what would be his uncle, who was surrounded by whores while drinking a glass of wine and telling stories.
"Ladies, did I tell you about the time I farted in my brother's chamber and blamed it 0n a servant? Let me say the outcome of that was pretty hectic, might I say." He said, taking a sip of the wine.
The girls around him started to giggle, with one even asking him to continue with the story, and before Tyrion could start, he would have been interrupted by the voice of his second favorite individual in the world.
"Lord Tyrion, I hope this isn't where you are planning to stay the night," Daemon said with a bit of playful arrogance as he made his way toward his Uncle.
"Ahh, my favorite nephew, how nice of you to join us—I was just about to tell them the story of the servant," Tyrion said in his usual tone. His brown and green eyes would stare at the green eyes of his raising a wine chalice at Daemon who would have just smiled at him.
"Ahh yes, the story of what happened to Boris. Now, while I would stay around to listen to you, uncle, I'm afraid that we'll have to leave and get back to the keep. It is awfully late," Daemon said while shaking his head and refusing to indulge in the wine.
"I could never get you to drink a glass with me, Daemon—and I think my presence in the keep wouldn't be missed," Tyrion said, not really taking what was being said seriously as that was in his nature.
"Uncle it's already the hour of the ghost, I shouldn't be up right now but I'm concerned you weren't spotted at the keep the whole day it's time you came back or the queen would probably send someone looking for you," Daemon said sighing ignoring the initial question about him not drinking.
"Nice to see you're one of the only ones who care for me, Nephew—fine, we will leave; next time, I'll tell you about the story, ladies." He said before getting up, being a little wobbly at first, making Daemon move towards him to help him.
"You drink too damn much." He said, smirking at his uncle, who just rolled his eyes and waved him off before smiling.
"And you don't, Daemon, which probably would make you a better man than me," Tyrion said, now aware of his surroundings, to start walking by himself.
Daemon chuckled and followed him towards the outside of Chataya's brothel, now roaming the streets of Silk, where Daemon and Tyrion would see the Gold Cloaks patrolling the area or most likely going to have their fun for the night.
"Ahh, the men of the city watch, bathed in the cloak of gold while keeping the King's peace—what do you think, Daemon, fancy wearing one of these if you're knighted? Or are you considering taking the white cloak or taking the black? Hope the latter isn't to your fancy" Tyrion, always the one to make conversation, would ask his nephew.
"Become a member of the city watch? Mhm, keeping the King's peace while upholding the law is a duty of great importance..it isn't a bad idea, and I do look good in gold." Daemon said thinking about what Tyrion said and would contemplate his options aloud.
"That you do, so what about being a part of the king's guard like your father?" Tyrion asked.
"The pinnacle of Honor and what it means to be a knight. The white cloak Is something that any knight would convey for…including me that Is an option." He said to Tyrion but that path might be his hardest one yet if he chooses to make his goal a kingsguard.
It was something to strive for but that would mean being around Joffrey when he eventually succeeds in inheriting the throne…
"And as for taking the black that's a plain no for me—I don't fancy the cold." He said.
Tyrion snorted in amusement because who wants to willingly take the black? Only fools or self-righteous individuals would willingly go further up north.
"Well, nephew, if you ever want to, let's say, join the gold cloaks, I'll be happy to put in a good word for you," Tyrion said playfully but Daemon could feel the underlying seriousness.
"If I ever want to consider it, I'll come to you, Uncle. Now let's go back to the keep" Daemon said as they quickly made their way back to the keep using one of the secret passages that Daemon discovered as a child.
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…Chapter Ends