a man from our earth gets a chance at three wishes after an entity picks his place of rebirth. read on as he tries to make the most of a really really bad time in one of the most fascinating worlds in fiction.
AN: the morning after. Daemon speaks to his daughter and Corlys. The sea snakes praise of Arthur only Endears him further to the rogue. And he gives his daughter his answer.
Meanwhile, we see the aftermath of Rhaenyra's conversation with daemon. As well as her thoughts about the realm,etc. Queen shit ya know?
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Coast of runestone, the vale, 3rd moon of 130AC
ARTHUR
Waking up, I hear the all too familiar throaty breath of morgot behind me. To my right is frost. Looking not at all like the vicious animal he could be when prompted.
Knowing I need to clean the cuts, as well as daemons own makes me look over across the clearing on my the other side of the fire.
We'd decided that flying many feet above the ground while so intoxicated was not a smart idea, and therefore crashed in the clearing we had our fight in.
The man wasn't bad. Kinda like every father in law I guess. A need to protect his daughter, the only man he's ever trusted with such a thing is himself. Something I can understand. As the day my own daughter or granddaughter brings a boy home, he will get the same, 'come to the garage' medieval version daemon and I started lastnight.
Looking over at caraxes doing the same thing morgoth is doing I smile. People like to forget about the valyrians beginnings. Just simple cattle farmers that had magic in their veins who stumbled upon beasts of legend.
I know I must read more of the journal of my grandfather. For in truth I don't truly remember what he looks like. I remember his voice, and how hard his fists and palms were.
That and the cold red eyes that always stared at me in apathy. Like He was dissatisfied. As I'm about to pull out the journal I hear daemon stir.
Deciding it's best to do this now, i clamber up morgoths back to my saddle, where my bag rests.
Pulling out another 5th of whiskey I pour it over my face to clean the cuts. Slightly clenching my teeth at the burn I let it sit for a moment before taking my water container filled with clean water, pouring it on a cloth and scrubbing the blood.
After finishing my slight whores bath, I make my way toward my future future in law.
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DAEMON
Opening my eyes I immediately shut and locked them tightly back together. The early morning sun felt blinding to my sensitive orbs. Feeling caraxes stir behind me and footsteps approaching my position I slowly open my eyes and see Arthur Valhalla.
It all comes back. My entire reason for being here. To see if the man courting my daughter needed to speak to caraxes instead of myself. I'm glad such a thing happens to not be needed. The boy can fight. He can talk.
Were it not for the inherent need for every man to dislike his daughters partner, id claim the boy okay. Decent even. But no further than that.
This also reminds me. I'll need to check out the island my daughter wishes to live on. For no child of mine will live in a hovel.
I see what Arthur has in his hands and almost empty my stomach. I love the concoction he had us drinking lastnight, but such a thing so early? The kids mad.
His words though stop these thoughts. (Please get away from caraxes. I don't want him snapping at me and causing more problems when I clean your face.) I now remember the dried blood over my right brow and under my left cheekbone.
I laugh as I move away from my mount, feigning that my head doesn't feel like it's going to burst, (I doubt I need such things. For my daughter hit harder than you,) the expected chuckle from him comes before he snaps back with his own.
(Funny. I was going to say something similar about your own strikes, close your eyes and keep them closed. Trust me. Should this get in there we'll be here an hour trying to get your sockets to stop feeling like they've taken a dip in the dragonmont,)
I do as he says because I can see how clean his face is. What I don't expect however is the stinging sensation that my throat experienced lastnight now invading the cuts.
He seems to notice my grit teeth, and indicitive of what I hope our relationship to be, teased me about it. (My my my. The powerful, scary, uncontrollable rogue prince can't handle a little pain)
Noticing he's done with the first part I go to speak but he stops me, (calm yourself. I'm almost done.)
The cool sensation of water drips over my face and I feel a cloth be thrown onto my face.
(I may be an excellent healer by these lands standards. But I'm not going to wash the face of another grown dragonlord like you're my son whom got dirty after his mother bid him to stay out of the rain.)
This time a full chuckle leaves my lips. Yes. This one is alright.
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Dragonstone, The narrow sea, 3rd moon of 130AC
The day after my rogue husband left to search for Rhaena is spent with me in the garden pondering the war so far. The day my father died was already bad enough. But to then learn that my birthright had been stolen proved too much. This caused my daughter, visenya, to be born far too early. Resulting in her death.
Then, as if that wasn't enough to crush any mother, as well as a father. For I've never seen daemon as lost as that day. So angry with the gods themselves. In truth, this is why I put up with his rogue-ish tendencies.
The way he loves his family. His passion for everything Valyrian. It's drawn me in since I was but a girl. A funny thing to acknowledge as his own daughter is now in a similar position. Finally having the chance to get the man she's always wanted.
While at first I was livid with Rhaena at pining over the Valhalla while being engaged to my Luke, reason won out. As I've been in her position. Forced into a marriage you don't want, while the one you do is far far away.
This leads me to my thoughts on the newest dragonlord. Arthur Valhalla.
From baela and jace's words in wake of Corlys' departure, the sea snake believes him to have lived during the height of Valyria itself. Never before have I heard such a foolish notion. The doom ended Valyria 200 years ago.
But that is of little importance. I remember back when asking Rhaenys of the dragonlord who saved her.
Flashback
As we sit in the chamber of the painted table I ask the most pressing questions. How she was injured. What happened to the rook.
The answers shocked me. An unknown dragon and dragonlord.
But my happiness was so much so I didn't know I could feel such things anymore after Luke was murdered. This unknown dragonlord had slain the usurper. Forced the one eye to flee.
My excitement was palpable as I asked where he was. For such a deed deserved the highest of rewards.
Only for that excitement to turn to ash at Rhaenys words, (I myself offered the same thing. He refused aid and his knee.)
I felt dragonfire run through my blood. 'Yet another usurper I must deal with,' jace it seems caught onto my emotions and placated them.
(Mother. If what grandmother says is true do you actually find that hard to believe? He's of the first family of Valyria. To even entertain such a thing as kneeling must sound the same as it does you going to kings landing now and bending your knee to aemond.)
The snarl which left my mouth at such an idea has my son raising his hands in a placating manner before continuing to speak.
(Besides. He said he wants nothing to do with 'the ugly chair in a keep built by, maintained, and surrounded on all sides by treacherous andals.')
My anger rises still, (and you believe such foolish notion? Why wouldn't he want the throne?)
Rhaenys words provided a little more information. (From what I observed? The man is northern in his soul. Like the starks he's related too, such things must feel like complete madness.)
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After thinking for a moon on that conversation I see what my aunt says is right. For I need not worry about a black dragon when a bronze one begs all my attention. Especially given the sizeable fleet making ready to come to Dragonstone and set all of us to slavery or the sword.
But no such thing will happen. When my husband returns we'll speak on getting aegon and viserys as far away from the war as possible. Though I know not where we could sent them that I would trust their safety completely.
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The coast of runestone, narrow sea, 3rd moon of 130 AC
CORLYS
Watching daemon and Arthur make their way back up the seahorse clean and Not bloody makes me breathe a sigh of relief. For I do not wish to field rhaenas temper again so soon.
(I wish to dress and speak to Rhaena. Where is she Corlys?) Arthur asks. Once again showing how much he hates ceremony.
I chuckle and tell him, (about to break her fast. I assume you can catch her if you hurry,) the lovesick lad rushed off in the direction of his room to put on one of his finely made garbs. Ones I will adorn when we reach dragonstone.
I'm left with the rogue prince as he watches Arthur leave. His gaze is hard to discern. But he levels a look at me I know far too well, he wants to speak to me about mine own thoughts of the lad.
——————
Sitting in my solar and offering daemon some whiskey I can see his face almost turn green before declining it. Going for water instead. An odd thing to see. For daemon as long as I've known him has been a drinker.
(What's got you turning down true Valyrian alcohol daemon?) I'm straightforward as is he. Long past we are of the going back and fourth constantly. Something I know will carry onto himself and Arthur.
(While a fine drink for true, i feel I've over indulged. Shouldn't be long before I'm back I the saddle.) he says honestly. Not surprising as I'm one If not the only true friend daemon has.
I laugh and continue the conversation with a question. Knowing the answer before I ask it.
(Tell me. What's it you wish to speak on? rarely see that face on you.)
(What face?) The rogue princes raises an eyebrow.
I chuckle before responding, knowing it will annoy him and loosen his shoulders a bit. (A thinking face. For true I believe caraxes and you share a mind sometimes.)
He chuckled back. Already usedto the back and forth between us before his eyes turned as serious as I've ever seen them.
(Speak your mind on arthur Valhalla)
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DAEMON
Walking to my daughters chamber at luncheon gives me the opportunity to speak to the last person I need before making up my mind. That's mine own daughter.
For as much as I've kept to my reputation, I cannot stand the thought of my little dragon looking at me with the same look I leveled at my father and grandfather when they informed me it was to the bronze bitch I would be wed.
No. For that experience alone had made me swear to never force my daughter into any marriage. Luke's was one that had fo happen so as to keep her from being sought out by the one eye in an attempt to 'merge the claims'.
But luceaerys is gone now. Which means I can see if my daughter truly wants this. For if she does not even the gods will stop me from making it happen.
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As I'm bud to enter I see my daughter brushing her beautiful silver hair in a dress I'm not completely comfortable with her wearing around Arthur.
A decent young man he may be. But my daughter is a vision in the red and black dress, and I know how young men can be. All of them. When their blood gets up. I used to be such.
She cuts me off before I can speak, (I'm going to wear a cloak made for me in Sparta over the dress father. Calm down. I may like Arthur, but I'm not ready for anything crazy to happen. I assure you.)
Her words let me breathe a sigh of relief. For I remember my own wife and I's rebellion in her youth that lead to oh so many problems.
Shaking those regrets away I ask my daughter about the boy. About his character. His land. His people. Everything I could think of.
The way I saw her eyes light up everytime she mentioned his name or some small gesture he did, whether that was for her or someone else didn't matter.
I take a long, deep breathe while looking at my hands and preparing the words I thought to never say.
Steeling my resolve I look into my daughters startlingly violet purple eyes. So much like her mothers while baela got mine own.
(I approve of him)
The words hadn't even fully left my lips before she was up on her feet hugging me. I returned the embrace.
I know now what my brother said is true all those years ago during Rhaenyras wedding to laenor. 'The worst day a father can endure is seeing his little girls eyes light up when speaking of a boy.'
But the words my little dragon speaks tell me it's the best one she's had. Therefore, I will endure. As is my job.
(Thank you father.)
AN: there's the chapter. He got daddy's approval.
Next is the reaction of the family to the news, and we finally reach driftmark and meet daven.
Though, arthur sees through the 'poor old fisherman helped by the gallant lord Corlys Velaryons fleet.' Act.
Afterall, if you need to sneak into somewhere, there are two options that will be best. Seaworth or the house of black and white. This will be crucial to the success of the battle of the gullet.
Prepare to meet lord wildfire, lord of Athens and whatever name I decide to give his keep. Put some suggestions.
Love you all. Live love and prosper ❤️