Daemon I

A.N: What I primarily wanted to have out of this chapter is to shed a light on the relationship between Daemon and Rhaenyra, and while I think that Rhaenyra may be a spoiled princess who didn't grow out of her teenage rebellion and Daemon may be a disgusting pedo-racist monster. I like the idea that their love is as pure as can be, and that Daemon didn't just marry her for ambition, nor did she, even though that may have been a factor.

I also don't like people's obsession with the Cannibal, so suck it Cannibal fanboys.

Here is a video animation that I made for the previous chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9riW3JOQsnY .

3985 words btw, I may take a long time to write chapters, but they are double the average size of normal ones.

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The fog of sleep lifted from his mind slowly, he tried to move in order to move in a more comfortable position, only for his hand to meet a naked back.

His mind struggled to remember where he was, and he almost panicked when he saw himself in another person's bed; until he saw the platinum white hair, that is.

Right, he's a married man now, again.

*sigh*

He gets up from the bed carefully so as to not wake up his partner, then pours himself a cup of dornish red.

He sits on a comfy chair, staring at his newlywed.

He finally gets to marry the person he wanted, he finally gets to choose.

A content smile split on his face as he saw Rhaenyra groggily open his eyes.

"How long were you staring at me?" She asks while stretching the sleepiness away.

"Not long." He answers.

"Really? I'd hoped you were staring for longer."

"Well, I'm not one for staring much, after a while I feel propelled to do something."

"Hmm... Well, you can stare for some more-"

She gets interrupted by a knock, a servant behind the door;

"Enter!" Said Rhaenyra.

The door opened, letting through a group of servants who efficiently and quickly took the used utensils and replaced them with new ones, they put plates of fruits and sweets on the table while another one approached the two and put a change of clothes on his side of the bed, all the while bowing their heads.

The other servants already left while the last one standing in front of them.

"Your graces, since Prince Daemon's luggage was put in his room we brought him a change of clothes. There are also some snacks along with a small breakfast if you choose to eat here in the room instead of heading into the hall with the rest of the royal family." She then puts a small golden bell on the table. "I will be just over the door in case you need anything, all you have to do is ring this bell."

He looked back at Rhaenyra with a peculiar look, after staring at each other for a while, he just gave her a shrug before turning back towards the servant.

"Yes, you can go now."

"Of course." Answered the servant as she bowed and left, leaving the two alone.

Rhaenyra stood up from the bed, heading towards the table filled with food.

"This came at an opportune time, I'm very famished." She says, before filling her mouth with cheese.

Daemon sits on the other side of the table, pouring himself another goblet of wine.

"Baelon's servants are peculiar, it seems anything your brother touches takes a strange direction." He says.

Rhaenyra's mouth goes into a thin line at the mention of her brother, he didn't understand why, but his mention always seemed to sour her mood.

Personally, Daemon's feelings toward his nephew are complicated. Baelon's birth took his position as heir away from him, but as a second son, Daemon already resigned himself to that fate, but the complications of said birth and Daemon's... mistake after that were what caused his exile and a succession of events that just served to enrage him, so there was some hatred in that regard.

But whenever that hatred threatens to grow, his guilt about the "Heir for a day" incident would resurface, and so his emotions stay stuck in a limbo between guilt and dislike.

"Yes, he was always a queer one, my brother. I heard from Lord Corlys that he instructs his servants to eagerly take bribes, and they in exchange, have to tell whoever aims to spy on him whatever he wants, the smarter lords already know about that, but the newer or dim ones seem to fall for it quite easily."

"Quite clever." He said.

"Yes, if only he used his intelligence for something other than taking my children." She snarks, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "I crave some lemons, let's see if this bell works."

She picks up the golden instrument and shakes it, causing a pleasant if loud noise to echo.

The door promptly open, letting the previous servant in.

"How can I help you, your Graces?" She bows.

"Yes, could you bring me some lemons, raw and peeled." Orders Rhaenyra.

"Of course."

As the door closes, Daemon looks at his wife quizzically.

"Lemons? I don't remember you enjoying them."

"It isn't the first time when I was pregnant with Joffrey, I couldn't get enough of the damn things."

His face turns so fast you'd think his neck would break, nearly startling Rhaenyra.

"Could it be?" He says.

Their eyes meet, and he could see the realization frame her face.

"I missed my course this month, but I thought it was just coming late. Could- could it be that I'm... pregnant?"

The chair falls over due to the hast of his movements, and Rhaenyra lets out a slight cry as she is lifted from the ground.

Panicked guards enter the room to the uncharacteristic sight of Daemon spinning his wife in the air while she laughs.

"You are with child!" He exclaims happily.

The guards stealthily close back the door, leaving the two back to their antics.

Rhaenyra softly slaps his hands away as he slows down and lets her stand.

"We are not yet sure of it, I will visit the Maester today to confirm it."

His hand slides over her stomach affectionally.

"You are pregnant, I am sure of it." He says.

"I hope so, I sure hope so."She responds.

"Can I ask of you something, Daemon?"

"Yes." He says.

"Can you look after Luke? Could you make sure my son stays safe and happy? I'm no longer able to meet him as much, and I trust Lord Corlys to look after Jace, I want to be with him when he needs comfort and guidance. I cannot be with him now when he's alone, but you can. I ask you to look after him."

"My brother may not allow me to do so, you understand that, right?"

"Since when has father's orders dissuaded the Rogue Prince from doing what he wanted? Father always had a soft spot for you, I think you may have more leeway in this matter than anyone else."

"I don't believe that Baelon would allow anything wrong to come to the boy, but since you asked, I will do it."

"Thank you, Daemon. Truly."

He held her cheek affectionally.

"Don't thank me, we are together now."

Their lips meet, and then time ceases to have its meaning.

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Tattered playing cards collide with the wooden table, followed by a series of groans.

"Read them and weep, boys!" Says Baelon, as he sits on the side of the yard, playing cards with some of the purple mantles.

On the field, knights, squires, and guards gather around in order to train and sharpen their skills, the most prominent is Aemond with a new eyepatch trying -and failing- to land a hit against the Prince's sworn shield, and his brown-haired nephew performing a series of scripted attacks on a dummy.

That is the sight that Daemon sees as he approaches Baelon.

Baelon, seeing a shadow covering him looks back at Daemon, his usual smug light smirk painted on his face.

"Oh! If it isn't my Uncle, would you care for a game of cards?"

Daemon's gaze shifts to the other players, and while each one of them lowers his head as required, none of them tenses at his presence.

He also noticed that their hands never strayed too far from their swords; and their eyes shifted around ever so often, looking for anything that could approach.

'It seems that they aren't just playing after all' Thought Daemon.

"Sadly, that must wait for another time. Can we talk, alone, Baelon?"

Baelon's face barely shifts at the question, betraying nary a thought.

"Of course." At his answer, the guards get up without fanfare, each one of them assuming a position around the table, close enough to defend against any situation, but far enough to not be able to hear their conversation, as long as they spoke softly, that is.

Baelon gestures towards one of the free chairs.

"Please, sit." He asks while handing Daemon a cup of wine.

Daemon thoughtlessly grabs the goblet as he sits down, looking at his nephew silently for a while.

Baelon doesn't respond either, as he idly takes a sip from his own cup.

Daemon glances at it.

'Water.' He mused.

After a while, his face turns to observe his new stepson as he slowly but methodically performs his set.

"I hope Lucerys' training is going well. Usually, when training children we urge them to move faster." He comments.

"I understand, but I want him to think about how he's moving and how to correct his mistakes himself, I'd like to cultivate that mindset in him so that he would never cease to improve."

"Why not do the same for the other boy? It looks like he may need it." His words coincide with Aemond falling down as Rodryck pushes him with his shield.

"Aem has more than enough drive." Baelon shrugs. "And he already worked hard enough that he has a good foundation. Now he needs both experiences sparring against different opponents, and to get used to his... new field of vision."

"Hmm..." Daemon just hums in response, taking a sip from his cup.

"His mother is worried about him, you know." He continues, talking about Lucerys, of course.

Baelon chuckles in response, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn, is it?" The crown prince says.

Daemon couldn't help but smile at the expression.

"Indeed."

Baelon looks Daemon in the eyes, an unflinching conviction in his eyes.

"I am doing what I think is best for my family, tell Rhaenyra that." Baelon's hands rest on the table, his body leaning across Daemon. "This time, Aemond lost an eye. You can see the boy, I'm sure you're able to discern the rage, the ambition in his eye. And neither you nor my older sister will always be with Luce."

The implications of his words cause Daemon to wince. He knew that, of course, but for it to be voiced so just made it all the more apparent.

"They have to reconcile, and the grudge between Rhaenyra and the Queen needs to be stopped, and if not, then at least contained."

Baelon takes a deep breath, his body relaxing back in his seat.

"So yes, I did support Father in his decision, I may even be one of the reasons for it. But it was for the best, and he was right."

Silence reigns for a while.

"I promised Rhaenyra that I would watch over her son." Says Daemon.

Baelons hum sounded unnecessarily deep as he thought about Daemon's statement, almost causing shivers on his back.

"I am a busy man, while you are quite free after the whole Stepstones affair. Tell you what, you convince Rhaenyra to come along to Kingslanding, I'll let you have more leeway in that regard, we'll disguise it as you helping me teaching the boy in the matters of war and battle, what do you say?"

Then it dawns on Daemon.

"You need us. We're just a piece in the board to you, huh?"

Baelon just stays silent.

"With Rhaenyra and I in Kingslanding, we'll be able to counter the Greens' influence in the city, giving you the opportunity to do what is it you want to do."

"..."

"Alright." Daemon stands up. "I will do it. If it'll drive that sneaky old man to lose his influence, then all is well."

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"So that's what he said?"

"Aye, as long as we go back to Kingslanding, he'll let me be more involved with Lucerys, I'll be able to watch over him better."

Rhaenyra huffs while almost falling into the chair on the balcony.

The sun was about to set and the sky had just the tiniest twinge of red amongst the constant blue. Daemon was leaning against the balcony, his back over the parapet, taking occasional sips from watered wine.

"I do not like that city, you'd think it'd be home to the Martells instead with how many vipers you could see." She complains.

"Now that Dorne is into the fold, your words could be prophetic." He japes.

A smile escapes Rhaenyra, in spite of her annoyance. She dismissively waves her hand.

"What of Jacaerys? Now that he is squired to Lord Corlys he will have to stay in Driftmark, am I to follow a child only to abandon another?"

Daemon looks to drink from his cup again, only to find it empty. He takes a seat in front of Rhaenyra, pouring another.

Before he could, however, his wife puts her hand over it.

"Stop. You need a clear head to think." She warns.

Daemon sighs out of frustration, Rhaenyra is getting too anxious.

"What is there to think about? Jacaerys is at the age where he finds his mother more annoying than comforting. I'm sure that even though he may miss you, the boy will enjoy his time at Driftmark without his mother to look over his shoulders." He takes advantage of her attentiveness to actually pour himself the cup. "Don't forget, Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys may not be fond of you, but they do love the children, he will be safe with family."

Relief washes over Rhaenyra's face as if she already knew the facts, but only needed someone to remind her of them.

"Then I guess we have no choice but to-"

Rhaenyra actually finished her sentence, but the deafening roar of a dragon made her words incoherent.

Daemon stands up and turns abruptly, he looks up at the horizon to find the sight of green flames surging out of a black silhouette black as coal, its numerous pikes giving it a very sinister feeling.

A majestic purple dragon is circling around the huge black dragon, gracefully dodging its claws and sickly green flames, a small figure atop its back, looking like an ant in a battle of giants.

The Cannibal roars into the sky out of frustration, only for one of its eyes to be gouged out by one of Xyrax's claws.

The injury causes the black menace to get disoriented, as it crashes violently into one of the hills next to the Dragonmont, roaring to the sky out of rage and agony, and maybe even some fear.

A random swipe of the Cannibal's tail manages to momentarily push Xyrax away, allowing it the time to recuperate.

At that, Daemon grabs Dark Sister and spins towards the door. 'Where is Caraxes?' He muses.

A hand clutches his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Daemon turns around at Rhaenyra, giving her a glare that caused many a soldier to tremble in their place, but he only gets a silent shuddering shake of her head in return.

"Do you know what you're implying?!" He menacingly asks, but he only gets a steely stare in return.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and collapses in the chair, while he lets go of his Valyrian blade he chugs down the wine directly from the bottle.

Meanwhile, Xyrax is leading the Cannibal in a merry chase atop the skies of Dragonmont, and every time the onyx dragon would show signs of giving up his trail, the purple beast would turn around and harass it.

This goes on for a while until they hear another roar, this time it was closer to the castle, everyone looks to the other direction to see Green.

Vhagar is aloft.

The duel in the sky almost stills as the Green Dragon lets out its own deafening roar.

The Cannibal, injured and enraged, had eyes filled with anger throughout the battle, but its reaction to Vhagar was different, its roar had a tint of visceral emotions, of hate, rage, and fear and so much more.

The spiky behemoth loses all reason, it abruptly changes course toward Vhagar while completely ignoring Xyrax.

Baelon urges his dragon to follow, harassing the Cannibal all the while. But the Mad Dragon doesn't fight back, it only dodges hits that it can, and takes the ones that it can't.

Both green and black beasts' fire meet in a shower of bronze and green, but while Vhagar stops in its tracks while spewing out flames, the Cannibal never stops.

The flames collide even as the Black Dragon charges into Vhagar, sending it reeling and turning, disoriented.

Golden flames hit the Cannibal's wing before it could claw at Vhagar, Xyrax may have saved the dragon.

Aemond, noticing the severity of the situation, urges his dragon to flee out of panic, as the green eyes filled with madness filled him with fear.

Vhagar obliges, flying at top speed toward the Castle.

As this new chase goes on, the dragons speed over the big town filled with panicked smallfolk and disciplined soldiers keeping the peace despite the chaos.

Baelon notices the urgency of the matter, and so Xyrax flew on top of the Cannibal, he unclasps the cords keeping him saddled to his dragon, his right hand unsheathing Blackfyre.

With impeccable timing, the Crown Prince jumps out from atop Xyrax, and he stuck his sword right into the Cannibal's remaining eye.

The black menace screeches out of pain, it loses control of its flight as it starts falling downwards, its head moves erratically in order to get rid of the nuisance on it, but Baelon takes hold of Blackfyre firmly, and stays on.

The ramparts are already empty by the time the Cannibal crashes on them, the black dragon slides across the floor, bringing with him dust and dirt, trashing around all the while.

Vhagar had already landed on top of one of the towers, as the small figure of Aemond frantically lowers himself from the saddle, he attempts to run towards Baelon out of concern but gets stopped by a Kingsguard, Lord Commander Criston.

His mother could be seen running towards her son, lifting the sides of her green dress as she heaved out of exhaustion, but she never stops.

The Cannibal lay battered, injured, and blinded, but not yet dead. But before the Onyx lizard tries to do anything, Xyrax freefalls from the sky, never once opening up his wings as he violently lands on the Cannibal's back.

The sound of its spine breaking would have caused many to flinch had it not been masked by the beast's scream of agony, a scream that got further amplified as Xyrax bit into one of its wings... and pulled.

Blood taints the ground in great quantities as the thud of a fallen wing reverberates throughout the castle, the shrieks of torment turn into gurgles, Xyrax had torn the Cannibal's throat, it seems.

Daemon and Rhaenyra push through the crowd of spectators just in time to see Baelon pulling his sword out of the Cannibal's eye, a spurt of black blood covering the side of his face.

Baelon slowly stands up as he lay on top of the dead beast's head, he looks down at it disdainfully for a moment, letting out a deep, throaty, grunt as he jumps down into the ground.

Then there were the cheers, oh the cheers! They lasted for so long as the people shouted the prince's name, screaming "Dragonslayer!" over and over again.

The Cannibal laid a deep shadow in people's minds, he scared and terrified the people of Dragonstone for too long, so it was no wonder that they would celebrate its death.

The guards and a couple of acolytes headed by Vaelar, the Maester of Dragonstone, surround the Prince.

"Are you injured, your Grace?" Says the Maester.

"Just some cuts and bruises Vaelar, no worries."

Vaelar sighs out of relief, letting go of the chain he was holding so tightly.

"That is good, your Grace. I thought something may have befallen you."

"Where is Rodryck?"

"Not here your Grace, he insisted in supervising the scorpions back at the Dragonmont."

Baelon lets out a guffaw.

"I guess he wanted to shoot a dragon that much, huh."

"I guess so, your Grace."

Baelon's gaze shifts towards the concerned look that Aemon was giving from his mother's embrace.

His face turns stern as he imperiously marches toward his brother.

"Bael-!" Aemond begins, but he gets wrenched out of his mother's embrace despite her protests, Baelon kneels on one knee to get to his brother's eye level.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not be rash!" He says.

"But-"

"No buts! Everything was going to plan, Xyrax was winning the battle and I was successfully leading the darned beast into a trap! Your actions put both you and your Dragon in danger, and put moons of preparation into naught!"

"My son did nothing wrong!" Protests Alicent, but Baelon doesn't even bother to respond.

Baelon cups his brother's cheek with his hand.

"What did I tell you?! Always think before you act! You may think that going against the fear, the panic, with action makes you brave, but if that action isn't founded through reason, then that is nothing but idiocy! This is the last time you will be stubborn and put your life in danger, do you hear me?" Baelon sternly warns.

Aemond lets out a shaky nod, a dejected expression on his face.

Baelon lightly taps his face.

"Good, you tried to do a good thing today, next time just think."

Baelon stands up and looks to the chubby Castellan wiping the sweat on face.

"Robert takes care of things here, I'm taking a bath."

"Of course, your Grace."

The crowd splits in twain as the Prince leaves for the castle, most people either looking at the corpse with awe or cheering at Baelon.

"Why bother killing the beast? I thought it was useful for culling the wild dragons?" Loudly muses Rhaenyra.

Robert takes pause out of giving instructions and turns toward the princess.

"It was with the permission of the King, your Grace. Prince Baelon had instructed Maester Vaelar to comb through ancient Valyrian texts in order to deepen his understanding of dragons, and Vaelar found concerning information that led to that decision."

Before Rhaenyra could ask for clarification, the Valyrian-looking Maester interjects.

"Yes, it is quite fascinating your Graces. In the books, I found that while the Valyrians managed to stop the effects of incest to affect their bloodline, the same cannot be done for the Dragons. You see, the Valyrians had always kept a good amount of wild dragons in proximity in order to mate them with their disciplined, trained ones in order to solve the issue. The problem was that any Dragons close or as big as the Cannibal were already either claimed or dead, leaving the dead beast their full liberty in order to kill and eat any wild dragon it may find, so we predicted that by its death, there may no longer be any wild dragons to introduce to mate with already bonded dragons, so as time goes on the dragons may suffer more and more of the issues of pregnancies, they would grow deformed, sick and simple-minded, and so at that time Dragons may as well go extinct..."

The Maester doesn't stop lecturing, as Maesters tend to do. But both Daemon and Rhaenyra turn still and pale by that revelation. Dragons were what allowed the Targaryen Dynasty to keep on going, and the fact that what they thought to be a useful beast may have threatened them was terrifying in and by itself.

Daemon gives a stern glare to Rhaenyra, they have a lot to talk about, mainly why she kept him from leaving.

Meanwhile, Viserys looks down on the cheering crowd with a mixture of relief and pride.