Westeros is a tough place, and nobody knows that better than Viserra Targaryen. Her affair with Baelon? That’s no love story—it’s a power play, pure and simple. And out of it comes Maekar Targaryen, a character who’s anything but typical. He’s not the kind of guy who’s out to save the day. Maekar’s a self-insert, with a head full of knowledge about the future and no illusions about the game he’s playing. This guy? He’s all about strategy, ambition, and staying one step ahead of everyone else. He’s not interested in being the good guy—he’s here to win. And in a world where everyone’s looking out for themselves, Maekar knows that sometimes you’ve got to make the tough calls, even if it means stepping on a few toes along the way. The story takes you through his journey, where betrayal isn’t a surprise—it’s just another move on the board. If you like stories where the main character isn’t afraid to play dirty and where the game of power is full of twists and turns, you’ll want to check out Maekar: A Dragon’s Ambition. This isn’t about noble quests; it’s about survival, cunning, and finding your place in a world that eats the weak for breakfast. And if you’re hooked and want to see what Maekar does next, head over to Patreon.com/PercivalLannister for early access to new chapters.
105 AC
"Are you not going to participate in this Tourney, Maekar?" Rhaenys asks me as she and Corlys walk over and sit next to me as we wait for the Heir's Tourney to begin.
Everyone seems to be vibing, be it noble-born or small folk like it is a Taylor Swift concert or something, in a way the tourney to celebrate the birth of the Heir is something like that in Westeros. How unfortunate that all this will be for naught.
I drawl out "No, I am not participating, I find the notion of knocking other men off horses with a stick beneath me."
Also, I am not so great with a lance. More than decent with a lance but not a great jouster who dominates the lists. My weapons of choice would be the battle axes, the long axe, and the tomahawk axe that the Ironborn call the short axe which they use for their infamous finger dance. Also, I have no intention of being humiliated by Daemon or Criston Cole yet again in front of everyone. That one time in Maidenpool was enough.
Criston Cole, Rhaenyra's current sword shield and future fuck toy/spurned lover (whichever one you want to believe) showed up at the tourney in Maidenpool a year ago as in canon, where I, a freshly knighted Prince (because I bonded with a dragon) participated in the melee. I did a great job of fighting with everyone except the two most important fools and it worked. Cole and I were the last people left as I let Daemon lose to Cole not that it helped me in the end as his Morningstar knocked my axe off from my hands. Though I did have the satisfaction of not losing before Daemon.
Criston Cole later unhorsed Daemon during the finals of the jousts who coincidentally unhorsed me during what can broadly be called the quarterfinals, the last eight.
"Of course, the great Prince Maekar is above such inane things like jousts," Corlys snorts. I roll my eyes, I wonder if he is still bitter about my rejection of becoming his pawn and if the guy will finally let go of his dream for the Throne.
Growing up in Dragonstone, I visited Driftmark quite a lot of times with my mother in a monthly gathering of the 'I Hate Jaehaerys Club' so I knew the Velaryons much better than I knew the Targaryens. Corlys hasn't changed one bit from when I first saw him.
"So, I hear that your Mother and Viserys are searching for someone to marry you off to," Rhaenys gossips with me as the knights file in for the pre-tournament display.
I replied eyeing the procession with disinterest, "Mother wants someone of pure Valyrian stock even if it means searching the Free Cities for Saera's bastards while Viserys wants me to marry anyone who isn't too ambitious."
"It's a pity, you could have married Laena," Corlys passingly mentions while Rhaenys shoots him a look that warns him to keep his mouth shut from talking more potential treason.
I roll my eyes, "Yes, it's a pity," And at the same time start a civil war for the throne that I have no intention of sitting on.
If I ever got married or betrothed to Laena, it could be seen as an act of defiance against Viserys and a challenge to his claim to the throne by virtually everyone which is probably what Corlys, Boremund, and my mother wanted. They were willing to start a war to dislodge Viserys simply because they hated everything related to Jaehaerys, talk about hatred towards an old dead man.
My mother's scheming went into overdrive after I bonded with Vermithor and she nearly hashed out a complete plot with Corlys and Boremund. They were nearly on the verge of making a pretext for war before I popped out the all-important question of who the hell was going to kill Daemon and Caraxes in the skies and become a kinslayer.
My mother for all her head for scheming didn't have the stomach for doing it herself, Rhaenys on the other hand, growing up in Westeros under proper tutelage of the Septas did not want to be a kinslayer because why would she, that left me, a person with very little morals, who does not want the damn chair and a person who does not want to take his chances against Caraxes. Even if I won, there was a very good chance that I would end up like Aegon II after Rook's Rest, and what if Daemon pulled off his famous stunt with Aemond above the God's Eye against me?
Corlys then tried to convince Rhaenys to join me in fighting Daemon, so that we could both share the title of kinslayer and also perhaps survive, only for that to fly out of the window when I pointed out that there was a good chance that Viserys would bond with Dreamfyre in desperation if rebellion were to break out, the part in which most of the other Great Houses would side with Viserys was kept aside. A 2v2 dragon fight has no winners only losers and maybe just maybe a lucky survivor.
So with that, I put an end to all plotting, declaring that I had no intention for the Iron Throne and told them to suck it. My mother was super pissed at me for a while and she still is to a degree. I wonder how long it will take for her to get over it. Perhaps forever.
Viserys finishes his speech about Aemma in labor as people applaud. Boremund arrives to request Rhaenys' favor and after that, he lines up to face a now well-known Criston Cole. Only to find his ass flying off his saddle after the fourth tilt. His son Borros follows him in the dirt soon after. Daemon then arrives and challenges Gwayne Hightower.
I soon lost interest in the tourney and I got up and walked out because I knew how this day was going to end. As I walked out into the Tourney Grounds, I saw a Maester rushing into the Tourney stands, I knew what that was going to be about and I had no intention of getting involved. The last time I got involved, I ended up speeding up Gael's death.
Dragonpit
I got onto my horse and I rode into the city and to the Dragonpit. The city streets were slightly deserted as most people were outside for the Tourney. As the Dragonpit loomed forward, I saw a few of my Firewatch men walking past me, they stopped and saluted before continuing.
A year ago, when Daemon was given command of the City Watch, I asked Viserys and the Small Council to form a Fire Watch, a dedicated Firefighting force for King's Landing. Previously any fires in the city were dealt with by private firefighters funded by the well-off citizens in the richer parts of the city while the City Watch had to deal with fires in the poor parts of the city. Otto sided with me, seeing it as a chance to counter any influence that Daemon might get in the city, as the saying goes, my enemy's enemy is my friend.
Stationed in the Dragonpit with a strength of around twelve hundred men, divided into six battalions. They were the Vigiles of King's Landing just as in Ancient Rome only this time, we didn't have the law enforcement duties yet. The Dragonkeepers were not happy sharing the Dragonpit with the Fire Watch but they didn't have a choice and the path to the dragons was barred to all in the Fire Watch except for me. To their delight Fire stations were being set up across the city with the HQ just outside the Red Keep so we will be out of their hair soon enough.
As I entered the Dragonpit, I saw a batch of recruits training to use the siphon. It was a large double-action bronze pump that was partially submerged in a reservoir of water, placed on a horsecart. Each battalion was given two of these, Volantenes had this device, inherited from Old Valyria, I hired a few builders and smiths to reverse engineer this for the Firewatch after buying one of them for an exorbitant price.
Ser Jaremy Hollard, the trainer stops the training as he walks towards me I dismount, "My Prince, you are back early. Is the tourney over?"
"As good as over, nothing interesting," I replied. Then I pointed to the batch of recruits behind him who were just staring at me, "How is the training going on?"
He answered, "Well enough, they are not the dumbasses that I had in the previous batch and they will do good, most of them can work with the pump while a few others will be assigned to the bucket brigades."
"And the training in arms?" I asked as a few more officers began to arrive. While the Fire Watch had no official law enforcement duties they were allowed to help put down the violent riots and to deal with the city gangs and triads should they get violent during their turf wars. And once Daemon is exiled, I will try to get law enforcement work for the Fire Watch. The only law enforcement matters I could deal with were regarding arsonists and saboteurs.
The men were armored with half helms and gambesons with each man having an axe. During riots, they will be given mail coifs and mail shirts with spears and Roman scutum shields.
"Progressing as well as can be expected, most of these are city boys from the streets in search of a job to escape the Gold Cloaks. But in time it will work," He replied as my lieutenants Alan of Stokeworth, Duncan, Gareth, and Matthos arrived.
"Is the tourney over already, I was thinking of going after a while, I have wagered a few gold dragons on Criston Cole," Matthos asked.
"Good for you, Cole is on a roll today, I won't be surprised if he wins the tourney," Provided it finishes before news of Aemma's death reaches the stands. "So, anything of note while I was gone?" I asked as we walked toward what could be called my office.
Duncan answered, "Yes, there was an incident where a bakery caught fire in the Street of Flour. We managed to put it out, there were no injuries though we did find out that the baker was not following the decrees for fire prevention that were mandated. His bakery had an adjacent wall to the nearby house which has been forbidden, the house nearly caught fire while the bakery itself did not have adequate storage of water for fire prevention. We had him flogged for his negligence and we are planning inspections in the Street of Flour and the surrounding streets tomorrow."
I nodded as I sat down and looked over a few ledgers and received updates, the stations explicitly for the Fire Watch across the city that I had asked for were on the verge of completion. Which was good as my men and I were tired of having to share barracks with the City Watch. A rivalry has formed between the two services in imitation of the one between myself and Daemon, hopefully, it doesn't affect us too much from doing our duties.
New water tunnels. cisterns, and water pipes built to get water from the Blackwater to the Fire Stations are now in use. New streets have been built heading directly for the Blackwater to ensure that the Bucket Brigades don't have a convoluted route to cover.
In the process, I managed a little private business of real estate that went hand in hand with my duties. After any house that burned down or was still burning, I would approach the owner and offer to buy it from him at a miserable price and most people would sell it to me because I am a Prince and you would be a fool to refuse and anger a Prince, a dragon riding Prince that too so they would sell.
After appropriating the near-worthless property, I would rebuild it as a Roman-style insula and I rent parts of it for a tidy profit to residents, tavern owners, shopowners, wannabe businessmen, and even the previous owners of the property.
The main way to ensure my profit was cheap labor or rather free labor when it came to rebuilding the property. As there is no slavery in Westeros, I got free labor from the prisons, I made a deal with Lyonel Strong, the Master of Laws with prisoners and criminals being sentenced to community service. And what better way to serve the community than to build houses for them which coincidentally happen to be owned by me, Fortunately for me, Westeros doesn't have an ethics commission.
And just like that I became the Crassus of King's Landing.
After an hour of work, training the recruits, and inspecting the facilities for the Fire Station, I received a breathless messenger, "My Prince, I have been sent by Lord Hand Otto, there is a dire situation in the Red Keep, your presence is needed."
Figured as much.
Outside the City
It has been a sad couple of days first Aemma and then baby Baelon, Viserys chose to have the baby over Aemma not that it mattered for the child lived less than a day after her mother before dying.
The funny thing is that this was never necessary yet Viserys did it, he chose to save the child and not the mother, and all for nothing. The baby didn't even survive.
"It is a sad day for the realm," Lyonel Strong gravely remarked as Syrax descended from the hilltop for the setting of the pyre alight.
"Sadder days are yet coming," Otto grimly replied with a side glance at Daemon who was whispering something to Rhaenyra. I wonder if he is happy that he will remain as heir or maybe he is genuinely sad for Viserys, or maybe both. I, on the other hand, feel nothing for Viserys, I have never felt anything for either of them.
After bonding with Vermithor he tried to build a rapprochement with me but I was uninterested, the dickhead didn't even spare me a glance like his father before, and now that he realizes that if I wished it I could easily take his chair away from him in a heartbeat he suddenly wishes to be my friend and brother.
Rather I went to the next person who tried to build a rapprochement with me, Otto, we both hated Daemon and he saw a good idea of having an alliance with me to counter Daemon while I saw him as a strong ally in the Small Council to help get my things passed through without trouble.
Syrax set the pyre alight as everyone watched in grim silence with only Rhaenyra's occasional sob to break the silence.
I turned to Otto, "I suggest that you send someone to keep an eye on Daemon and watch what he says, something tells me that he will give you exactly what we want."
Red Keep
"Umm, My Prince," Gareth approaches me as I am talking with a few nobles who are offering their condolences.
I turn my head to see Rory, a tavern keeper along with Old Tim, a shopkeeper both of them were my tenants.
"Yes, my good men, how do I help you? I asked after politely excusing myself from the nobles.
"My Prince, an hour ago, a few men came into the tavern and the shop and demanded that we pay them money for the protection of our establishments," Rory whimpered.
That was new, I have never known any gang or triad in the city to ever have the balls to try to extort my tenants.
"And when we refused to pay, they trashed the place and chased out our customers and threatened to burn down our shops if we didn't pay up next time," Old Tim finished with a sense of fortitude.
Gareth then asked, "Did you bother telling those thugs about who owns the building?"
"We did but they didn't care for it," Rory replies frightfully.
Matthos who was standing by asks, "Shouldn't you be telling the City Watch this?"
The two trade glances before replying, "It was the City Watch, My Prince, that threatened us."
Didn't see that coming.
"Who were they?" I asked quietly. This will not stand, I am going to break their knees for thinking of extorting me and Daemon is not going to protect them.
Old Tim answers, "We don't know their names but among the ones leading them, one had a harelip and he called the other one Byrch."
Garth the Harelip and Balon Byrch, my brother's sycophants.
Silently as I fume I turn to my lieutenants, "Matthos, place around ten men at each of my establishments for protection."
I turn to the two men, "Don't worry about the City Watch or anyone else, I shall take care of it. I give you my word."
After they left, I turned to Gareth, "Give me the best ten men that we have, Harelip and Byrch won't live to see the sunrise."
Street of Silk
I stood silently in wait in the shadows of the alley at the end of the Street of Silk with my men, all of us wearing cowled black robes. Daemon was entertaining his men in a procured upscale brothel but I knew that both Harelip and Byrch would come out soon and they would have to come out this way as it was the way to the East Barracks.
And sure enough, as it neared daybreak, most of the men and one woman emerged from the brothel, nearly all of them were drunk but not too drunk and weren't at a loss of their senses. No matter what I could still take them on, especially the two that I wanted. In the faint light of the dying torches and lamps, I can see both Harelip and Byrch along with the massive Luthor Largent as they somehow manage to get back on their horses and ride down the street to the East Barracks. Luthor Largent was unexpected but no matter what, he would die with them.
I grip my tomahawk axe in anticipation as the other officers and Daemon ride off in the other direction for the West Barracks or the Red Keep barracks. While Daemon rides off with Mysaria to the manse she owns by the Iron Gate. He will get what is coming to him soon enough.
As the three horsemen approach, I give my men the signal and we suddenly emerge from the shadows of the faint dawn light and quickly surround them causing them to suddenly halt.
"Get the fuck out of the way, cunt," Largent grunts as he readies his horse to run me over.
Balon Byrch joins as his horse neighs "We are the men of the Watch if you know what's best for you then move the fuck away, you ain scaring us with that mysterious shite, we are Dragon's Men, Prince Daemon's men, we fear no one,"
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Harelip snarls half drunkenly.
"You know exactly who I am, Harelip" I snarl back as my men and I brandish our axes. Upon hearing my voice, all three of them widened their eyes in shock, and before they could react I buried my axe inside Byrch's face and in that heartbeat, Matthos threw his axe straight into Luthor's chest while one of my men took down Harelip's horse and it fell with him crushing his leg.
As Byrch's horse runs off, his body falls and I extract my axe from his face and I walk toward the groaning Garth Harelip who probably has a bad concussion. He tries to beg for mercy but the last thing he sees is me raising my axe above his head.
Small Council Chambers
I am not an official member of the Small Council but at the beginning of every month, I am supposed to make a report and present it to the Small Council on all activities and money spent on the Fire Watch of the previous month. It just so happens that everything had to coincide. So I got a front-row seat for everything happening today and today was a happening day.
Otto speaks with a grave tone that perfectly disguises his satisfaction with what he is about to say before I can present my monthly report, "Before we begin Your Grace, I have a report that I am honor-bound and duty-bound to share."
This is going to be fun.
For those eager to dive deeper into Maekar's dark and twisted tale, advance chapters are available on Patreon.com/PercivalLannister. Witness the rise of a dragon who dances with destiny in a world where survival often demands sacrifice and cunning.