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House of The Dragon: Reincarnated as Daemon Targaryen's Son

A man who killed himself because he doesn't want to experience the burden of living got reincarnated to the continent of Westeros, a couple decades before the Dance of the Dragons... and worse, he's the son of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce... my first time writing a fanfic, go easy on me. I used the show as the basis and filled in the blanks using the books, oh, I also change a couple of things, obviously... I don't own the cover nor ASOIAF

idiotic_writer · 电视同人
分數不夠
43 Chs

Chapter 34: A Knightly Order. 125 AC

In the middle of the night, Maegor sat in front of his lordly desk. A candle was lit at the corner of the table, helping him to write a letter that he was supposed to write as the maester waited in front of the table.

"How is the king's condition, maester?" Maegor asked softly as he kept writing. "It's been a while since the capital sent any news of him."

"Not great my lord." the maester answered obediently. "His condition is worsening every day… the grand maester is working his hardest to heal his grace."

Maegor just hummed at the maester's words as he finished his writing. He then put some wax on the scroll, and stamped his house's heraldry on it.

While he let it dry out, a knock suddenly came from the door, the maester and Maegor turned towards it, seemingly curious on who it was.

"You ask for me, my lord?" a rough voice came from behind the door, it was Ser Willam Royce.

"Ah, yes." said Maegor. "Come in."

The door opened, and ser Willam entered the solar. He was wearing his usual bronze armor, the Valyrian steel sword Lamentation around his waist.

When the wax dried off, Maegor gave it to the maester. "Make sure it arrives to the king."

"I will, your grace." the maester bowed, and quickly left the room, leaving ser Willam and Maegor alone.

"Ser Willam." Maegor sighed, leaning to his chair. "You can sit down."

Ser Willam just nodded at the suggestion, and he sat in front of Maegor rather uncomfortably, as he was wearing armor.

"Do you need something from me, my lord?" asked ser Willam curiously. "Jon asked me to meet you urgently."

"Yes." Maegor said, tapping his fingers to his desk. "As you probably realized by now. We are increasing our military spending."

"Yes, I sometimes become overwhelmed with how many new recruits we have to train daily." Ser Willam sighed. "Even the small folks become curious."

"I'm sure you have many questions. But we're not here for that." Maegor continued. "I'm here to ask you to find five of your best men, and create a knightly order."

"My lord?" Ser Willam was confused. "A knightly order? Whatever for?"

"As elite fighters, for house Royce." Maegor said. "Five of our kin that would be the sworn shield to Runestone."

"But… I don't understand, my lord, why only five?" asked ser Willam once again. "If you want a knightly order, at least we should follow the kingsguard, having seven members."

"Well, including me and you, it will be seven." said Maegor. "And they are the kingsguard, ser Willam, this knightly order's purpose is not to protect a single individual, rather, the whole family and holding."

"I… I will do as you wish, my lord." said ser Willam.

"Do you have any recommendations, ser Willam?" Maegor asked. "Someone skilled, honorable, and loyal to our family, I understand that some of our house members didn't like it when I kept my Targaryen name."

"While I can't guarantee that all of them are indifferent when you keep your Targaryen name… they are loyal to the house, my lord."

"And those are?"

"One of them is your late mother's cousin, Ser Gerold," said Ser Willam. "And his nephew, Ser Gunther."

"As I understand, ser Gerold is already quite old." Maegor frowned. "As for ser Gunther… how old is he?"

"Ser Gunther is on his 20th and 7th name day, my lord." Ser Willam said. "Though I assure you, he is a formidable man. The soldiers called him 'The Bronze Giant' last I heard."

"Ah, he must be a huge man then." Maegor hummed. "He is a good candidate, I don't know about Ser Gerold…"

"I'm sorry my lord… if you insist on finding men that hail from house Royce, then…"

"I understand." Maegor murmured. "Let's loosen the requirement then, only that they can serve us loyally, and has significant skills."

"If that is the case, there is a young knight that is looking for work a couple of days ago, my lord." said ser Willam. "Ser Gareth Long, a northman."

"A knight, yet a northman? Interesting…" Maegor muttered. "I've never heard of House Long, where does the knight hail from?"

"I believe they're from White Harbor, my lord."

"Ah, that explains the knighthood." Maegor nodded. "Very well, we can hire him, but do watch him first, give him some work in the training field, see what he can do, after you know for sure he's a capable man, bring him to me."

"Very well, my lord, I'll keep that in mind." said ser Willam.

"We need three more then." Maegor sighed. "Keep an eye out for wandering knights, ser Willam. Just make sure to check if they are honorable men."

"I will, my lord." ser Willam nodded. "Though, I have a question concerning the knightly order. I'm assuming the members we'll have liberties, like the knights of the order of the Green Hand?"

Maegor nodded. "Correct. Though, ours will probably be more exclusive, As our knights will wear the same armor, which is our bronze armor."

"Indeed my lord." ser Willam hummed. "And may I ask what is the name of this knightly order?"

"Hm… that's a good question…" Maegor said, tapping his fingers repeatedly towards the table. "How about we keep it simple. They are to protect Runestone, so let's call it the order of the Runesguard."

Ser Willam just smiled. "An excellent name, my lord. Is there anything else I could do?"

"No, that's it for now." Maegor said. "I'll deal with the heraldries and all that nonsense. I will also be making the armor myself."

"My lord?" Ser Willam looked surprised. "I didn't think that it would be necessary for you to—"

"Like I said, ser Willam." Maegor chuckled. "We are an exclusive knightly order."

Ser Willam sighed as he stood up. He then bowed towards his lord, and spoke again. "Then I will talk to ser Gunther about the membership, as well as hire ser Gareth to enter our service."

"Good. you're dismissed." Maegor said, and ser Willam left the room, leaving Maegor alone in his solar.

Maegor just looked at the window. He saw the full moon shining brightly in the sky, lighting up the dark night of Runestone. The streets are empty, but a couple of lights could be seen from the houses below, particularly the workshops.

He then looked at his hands, and he saw there was still some blood still uncleaned from when he was holding his sons. He could only sigh at the sight as he stood up, walking towards a bowl of water to clean it up.

[Red Keep, King's Landing]

King Viserys laid on his bed, he was face-side down, exposing his rotten back to the maesters that were handling him. The king looked more frail, rot was showing in his right face, but his two eyes are still functional, albeit barely.

While the king was being treated by the maesters, Otto Hightower was standing beside him, and he had a piece of paper in his hand.

"Your grace… I have news from Runestone." said the hand calmly.

"Runestone?" the king asked, he seemed a bit out of place. "Maegor?"

"Yes, your grace. The lord of Runestone has sent a letter, informing us of the birth of your grandchildren."

"Grandchildren?" said the king weakly. "Maegor had a child?"

"Two, your grace." said the hand. "Princess Helaena had given birth to twins. Two healthy boys."

"Oh…" the king groaned. "That is… excellent news. Two healthy boys… your great grandchildren, Otto."

The hand nodded weakly. "Indeed, your grace…"

"Has… Has my brother… been informed?"

"I believe Lord Maegor had sent a similar letter to Dragonstone."

"Good…" the king sighed, his voice cracked, a bit in pain. The king then chuckled softly. "It's time… for him to… know how it feels… to have grandchildren… of his own…"

The hand didn't say anything, he just stood there quietly, his hands on his back.

Suddenly, the king groaned in pain, and the maester stopped what they were doing.

"My tea…" the king murmured, "My tea…"

One of the maester hurriedly gave him a drink, and the king seemed to fall asleep as the treatment continued. As the maesters treated the king, the wind howled softly from the window, the full moon was shining brightly in the sky, and as the maesters finished, they and the hand left the king alone, letting him rest for the day.