Chapter 39-To The Wall!

Chapter 39

DAEMON TARGARYEN

Daemon had hoped that there was more time, that he could wait a few moons before calling a Grand Council but reports from beyond the wall were rather damning, and the chill of death could now be felt even near the Wall.

And so, he was forced to push up his plans.

"Is the war truly over?" questioned his loyal but rather lackluster hand, Lord Velaryon and he nodded as the new Council gathered infront of him at his behest. There were new faces in the council, and soon enough, there would be more of them.

"It is. " He had been keeping a close eye on enemy movements for years now. His men had infiltrated deep into their ranks rather early and stayed there, supplying him with their plans and movements as he waited and waited for all of them to gather together.

"The army that landed in the Riverlands was decimated by the Royal Army and the men from several loyal lords, many of which will be rewarded richly for their actions." The most prominent amongst was the Lady Eleanor Mooton who was to be the new Lord Paramount of the Riverlands by his decree, the title was to stripped from Lord Tully whose lands would be going to a cousin of his that would need a reagent for years.

"The only active battle is one in Stepstones and at Pyke, and Lord Velaryon and Prince Viserys will handle that, respectively. Prince Viserys shall depart for the Stepstones with a hundred ships and shall then join our allies across the Narrow Sea in bringing down the last safehold of the Slavers," and with that the war would be over.

Daemon's gaze then turned to the new addition to his Council, Lord Wyman Manderly, and the rumors about his fatness were not exaggerated. The man had had a special chair made for himself, given that he doubted a normal chair would fit him.

And even with that, he seemed to be falling out of it, and yet he sat in the Council with a self-assured glint.

"I believe the Crown has the money for this," he asked, and the man nodded and replied in his booming voice.

"Of course, your grace. The Crown's coffers are filled to the brim and the Crown's revenue is healthy. We shall have gold aplenty for this war and another," and his cryptic message seemed to pass over the heads of nearly half his council, as he nodded.

"Rejoice," he added in a booming voice as he raised his cup.

"The days ahead may not be easy! But we have won a war! So drink and feast, and sing and dance! For though battle looms over us, the war is over!" and the man joined in cheer as they began to leave the council after further discussions over the realm's affairs.

The issue of the Grand Council was brought up, but he had kept the cards close to his chest over that matter, for he did not wish to spark a debate over it yet.

And then the Council Room emptied out leaving behind only him and the person that had been sitting in his place in these meetings while he had been away from the realm.

"You had a dragon," were the first words out of her mouth, as her oldest friend and comrade compliant stiffly, and he shrugged.

"I did," there was no use in denying it any longer.

"All this time," she added as she rubbed her head.

"All this time, while we worried over the incoming Blackfyre rebellion and those rumors about them having a dragon of their own, you remained calm and composed, for you had one of your own. One much bigger and much more deadly," and that was the whole purpose of it.

"If my enemies had known about this, they would have prepared to face a dragon, that is why I kept it hidden," that was his rationale behind it all, for he believed that had this been revealed before the war would not have ended as swiftly as it had.

"I understand that but still you could have said a word," and there was nothing to say anymore.

In the end, she sighed before a smile came upon his face.

"I don't believe I have congratulated you on the birth of the Prince," she added, and thinking of his son warmed his heart, causing him to give a slight nod.

"Thank you," and he knew that this child's birth had removed her own son from the position of heir, displacing him. However, she did not seem overly concerned about it.

"Have you chosen a name?"

"Aerion, for the God of Dawn," he replied, and Elia's eyes nodded.

"And does this have anything to do with the Grand Council you have summoned," and it was just like her to pick up the subtlety, something which many had missed.

And as he thought of the recent missives from the North, his worries grew at the lack of time and the impending danger headed towards them.

When no answer came, her eyes narrowed.

"What is it Daemon? Even with the Blackfyres and the rumors of a dragon, you would have a word of reassurance for the realm. But now, now. Not for this," she added, and he sighed as he looked at the room's roof.

"Death," he answered.

"It is death that comes for us, Elia, risen again," and the answer was true enough.

"Is that why you have not brought Ashara to the capital?" he nodded.

"Leave it. You shall learn soon enough. The whole world shall,"

0000

VAL

Life in the true North was always harsh. Val could not remember the easier days the people around her spoke off, days when game was not so scarce, when the water was not so frozen to make fishing an impossibility.

Days when demons did not walk the lands. Demons of blue eyes and no blood, one's who refused to be killed even when stabbed. The only way to kill them, was through a raging fire, and this.

The obsidian daggers were bound to her belt, and she was not the only one who carried them. Each and every Fremen carried them, for death could come for any of them at any time.

They had first gotten their hands on them years ago, when a ranger clad in black furs had entered into their camp, carrying a great sack filled with them. He had asked Mance for an audience, calling the man by name.

Many had sought to kill the man, their animosity with those damned Crows went past years, and yet they would learn later that the man was no Crow. That the man had come to them from the Capital, where now a new King ruled. One who knew of the matters and enemies beyond the wall.

He offered them no friendship, nor did he ask them to bend their knee. Yet he gave them these weapons to protect themselves and their family, asking them to fight until they could no more. And fought they had, sometimes to great success, sometimes to great loss.

"The King refuses us refuge," she asked as she sat beside Mance in his small camp, where, despite the thick cloaks and furs, the chill was strong enough to penetrate into the bones.

And yet it was the warmest place in the camp, one arranged specifically for Mance and his wife, who was her sister Mal, whose belly was swollen with his child.

"He offers us safe passage if we bend the knee," Mance replied, and she scoffed.

"Fremen do not kneel," she rebuffed, angry at the mere thought of bending the knee to a southern flower.

"Nor do deadmen," Mance added, as their leader and the one man who had united the Fremen for the first time in a hundred years replied despondently as he sat there soaking in the warmth of the fire.

"We shall attack the Wall and show them our might. We have a hundred thousand men at our beck and call, and each one of us is worth a dozen of those Crows," she proposed war as Mance shook his head.

"I have been to their castles. This is not the Watch from decades ago, this is an army Val. One we cannot beat," and she was angered by those words as she rushed to her feet.

"What will you have us do then? KNEEL!" she asked, and Mal was quick to intervene.

"Calm yourself, sister," her sister's voice cut in as she looked into her eyes.

"The King, he has helped us for all this time. Giving us food and weapons to fight the walkers. He would deny us refuge," and Mance nodded.

"He would and loathed as I am to say it, I can not fault him for it. He is King on that side of the Wall; he has little reason to concern himself with what happens on our side of the wall," and she shook her head.

"The Dead will come for them after they are done with us. He must know that," she retorted.

"And he is prepared to deal with them," Mance added.

"In the Crows's castles I saw more men than I ever have in my whole life, more men have not manned the walls and its castles in a hundred years. The Castles are repaired and they have weapons," he pointed towards the obsidian dagger.

"Obsidian, or Dragonglass, whatever you may call it. They have these weapons by the hundreds of thousands, arrows, swords, axes, daggers. And now if the word from the capital is true, he has a dragon. That man, the King has been preparing for this for years. Both for the dead and for us," and Val could only grit her teeth at that.

"So, what! Are we supposed to die," because they would not kneel? Not today. Not ever.

"He has given us a way..." he began, making her frown.

"Passage from these lands to land across the Narrow Sea, Essos as they call it. I was told that there is a war going on in Essos One where men fight against slavers. He offers us a chance to fight in that war, to win honors and coin for ourselves as free men and wom...."

And before Mance could finish, screams and wails filled the tent as a Freman rushed towards into the tent.

"Mance! Mance!"

"The Dead! They are here," and she saw Mance's face pale at those words as they all rushed out of the tent and watched the skies darken in the distance as a storm blew.

And there in the distance, she saw them, the monsters that now dwelled in the True North.

"To the Wall!" Mance announced as he turned towards the gathering of a hundred thousand.

"Run towards the Wall!"

0000

Back in Castle Black, Eddard Stark watched as the Fremen hoard rushed towards Castle Black, and Jon stood beside him.

"What are we to do?" Jon questioned as his eyes remained rooted in the storm of darkness that brewed in the distance.

"Open the gates!" he commanded as he steeled his heart.

"Let them in!"

0000

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PS: I was kind of lost about this fic and just remembered it today. Apologies for that. You can go and read the whole of it (it has five more chaps), all for free on my Patreon. And you can also check out my new fic—The Crippled Wolf, which is going to be an entirely different direction from this one.