[Chapter Size: 2400 Words.]
Third Person POV.
North.
...
...
Daemon did not know how this really happened, but suddenly he found himself in the middle of a very lively banquet.
Men shouted at each other, with great abundance on all the tables. While they drank and ate, they seemed to enjoy themselves like never before.
It seemed that these people had been without such things for a long time, and it was true when so many troubles had come to the North since Robb went south and the North turned upside down.
Daemon had presented the tribe at the end of the first meeting with food and drink for everyone, so they immediately made this banquet to celebrate, with Daemon becoming the guest of honor at the main table.
He had to admit that these people were more hospitable and friendly than he had first imagined.
"Come on! Who will be the fool or coward to challenge me again?" None other than Daemon shouted as he slammed his mug against the table while looking over all the tables and the crowd before him.
"You think you can keep going after defeating three men? Are you even human?!" Hrogar shouted at his side, slamming his mug on the table several times as he laughed.
"You wouldn't say I'm human if you truly knew me!" Daemon mocked.
"Look at this guy! He's certainly mocking us!" Hrogar laughed even harder as Daemon spoke his words.
"He says he's not human… I want to see him prove it!" said a man approaching with a fierce look and a wide smile on his face, quite robust, coming toward Daemon with a mug in his hand.
"You're big, I admit, Targaryen. However, you cannot defeat four men!" said the clansman, with a cheerful yet fierce expression.
"Come on, come on! Bring them some drinks!" shouted the clan leader, as the serving women quickly brought the mugs, not sparing glances at the Dragonborn with curiosity and interest in him. There were many widows in this place, so it was common for women to pursue a man who could provide.
Daemon, however, ignored them and soon grabbed his full mug, beginning to drink. The man, not wanting to fall behind, also quickly grabbed his and downed it in one go.
The first mug was gone, and it didn't take long for others to be ready on their table. They grabbed and drank without stopping. By the fifth mug, Daemon's opponent faltered, starting to feel dizzy, while the Dragonborn remained steady, though drunk, laughing loudly and mocking, all the while not faltering against his opponents.
By the sixth mug, the man began to vomit, while Daemon raised his and began to laugh.
"Look at these! Is that it? Is this the best the Norreys clan has to offer? Bring the next one to challenge me!" Daemon exclaimed.
Soon the whole crowd roared, laughing and raising their mugs while shouting his name. "Targaryen!" Like a chorus.
"Well, that was fun!" Daemon mocked, while the men laughed and drank along with him.
"I must admit, I didn't imagine our little quarrel would result in a great banquet. It's been a long time since we've eaten so well! You've shown that you are one of us here too," Hrogar said, looking at the huge pig roasting in the middle of the hall. Which Daemon had presented, pulling it out of nowhere as if by magic.
They had a longer conversation, as if they were getting to know each other better. Obviously, the clan did not want to yield so easily, especially on the issue of the 'wildlings,' while Daemon claimed the throne and demanded that the North stand by his side. At the same time, everyone already knew of Daemon's dislike for Ned. However, everything was very contradictory: after all, he had ruined Ned's life in King's Landing, but also saved him from certain death at his trial, pulling him out of the city.
"This is good," Daemon replied to the compliment.
"Anyway… What will happen to Ned?" Hrogar asked.
"I have my problems to resolve with my uncle. There's nothing to be done about that, and I will settle it in a way… other than sword against sword," he said.
"Are you going to kill him?" the man asked in a serious tone. It was obvious he liked Ned.
"I don't know. But regardless of what happens, Lord Stark will no longer be the lord of Winterfell, and I will strip him of his titles," he declared.
"And what do you plan to do with him?" the man asked.
"He may be useful somewhere else," Daemon replied.
"So you'll send him to the Wall?" the man guessed.
"I am inclined to do that, if I don't kill him. But that is between me and him, and no one in the North will interfere," he warned in a more dangerous tone, and Hrogar could feel it.
"I never heard that Ned mistreated his bastard… well, if I can even call it that, since everyone at the time believed you were his son until not long ago. Not that it would have been a bad thing either, here in the North we don't treat bastards like they do in the South. In any case, it is a bit curious, with the anger you have toward Ned, when he is well-regarded by all the North…" the man said.
"For you, yes. Obviously you didn't live there, and Lord Stark would never allow that to be public. But you probably heard rumors. There's no way the servants wouldn't have spread the conditions I lived under in his household. I was treated like a plague, worse than the lowest servants," Daemon mocked.
"There were some rumors, but we here in the Mountain clan never really heard much about it. When Ned came here, we always held banquets. He always praised our hospitality," Hrogar said, while his wife seemed to want to say something, but he ignored her, talking with Daemon.
"I won't deny that it is a great reception," Daemon said calmly, looking at the hall; this was a banquet that could be said to be better than Winterfell.
"This banquet is better than the one they held for the pompous king in Winterfell," Daemon praised.
The man laughed and stood up, drunk as well. "Did you hear that, boys?! Tonight's banquet is better than the one for the stag king in Winterfell!" he exclaimed as everyone let out a satisfied and excited cheer.
Daemon said nothing as he waited for the man to sit down again and continue the subject.
"Still, Ned never said anything. And we also never got involved in that matter. We believed we would be meddling in things we shouldn't," the man said.
"I can't blame you for that." Daemon shrugged.
"They say you have powers that you learned somewhere… after you disappeared for eight years... In what place in this world does one learn to be a sorcerer?" Hrogar asked, curious, changing the subject since Daemon did not seem flexible regarding Ned.
"That's the thing. I wasn't in this world. I was called to another world, and there I learned the powers I have. After all, either I learned them, or I would die," Daemon said.
Hrogar analyzed him for a few seconds, trying to study his expression, seeing if he was telling the truth. "Is that really true?" he asked in a slightly more skeptical tone.
"Yes. Do you believe that I went to a world where I didn't have to worry about the free folk crossing the Wall, or the ironborn raiding the coast?" Daemon said with a small smile.
"Sounds good. At least you didn't have to deal with those plagues. No offense… but let's not forget what the free folk did to us for a millennium," Hrogar said.
"Well, I can't blame them for that either. But the point is, in that other world, I didn't have to worry about either of those two groups. On the other hand, there were dragons, monsters, mages, dark creatures, werewolves, vampires, all kinds of dangerous animals, freezing temperatures, and even gods trying to kill me... I had to deal with all of it," Daemon said, pausing at each word, while the man furrowed his brow, seeming not to believe as he listened to the description of his life in Skyrim.
"Well… that's already hard to believe," Hrogar admitted in the end, looking at Daemon, trying to see if he was still lying or trying to deceive him.
Daemon opened his hand, and a flame appeared. The man immediately flinched, recoiling to the opposite side, shocked by the fire coming from Daemon's hand. He had seen Daemon conjure things in this hall out of nowhere and had been startled, but seeing magic still scared him just the same.
"By the old gods! How do you do that?" he said, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall, who looked at Daemon's hand blazing like a torch.
"Please, this is only a simple flame," Daemon said, extinguishing it. He wished he could show something far more impressive there. His gaze then turned to one of the tables.
"Let me show you what magic can really do," he said, pointing at an entire table. Before the men could react, they felt their bodies become paralyzed, and suddenly the entire hall looked on in horror: the table began to levitate, with the people still sitting on the benches.
It was not too far off, Daemon had enough strength to lift them all. As they rose, their astonished gazes turned to him, at the main table of the hall.
He kept them suspended about two meters high before letting them slowly descend. The men watching were already out of their seats, shocked, staring with fear — or even adoration — at Daemon.
"You truly are a sorcerer…" Hrogar murmured, still incredulous at what he was seeing.
"You see, I have a few tricks. But that doesn't matter. I can do much more than that. Besides, I am an even better warrior," Daemon said, shrugging.
His words left the leader silent for a moment, while the entire hall remained stunned. Especially those who had been at that table, who immediately moved away, looking at Daemon in fear. The banquet no longer seemed the same from that moment on.
"Well… I suppose I'll start to believe in your stories. Could you tell me more about them?" the man said, with softer eyes, wanting to hear about that place Daemon claimed to have come from.
"Of course, I can share my stories," Daemon replied, smiling. He grabbed his mug again and drank, even though he was already a little drunk, which only amused him even more.
...
...
The next day, Daemon stood among several men lying on the ground. Some groaned in pain, others were unconscious. Applause echoed around: they were in a kind of improvised arena, with only a fence separating them from the audience watching in a full circle, where Daemon faced multiple men of the Norrey clan at the same time.
It was very likely that this place had once been where their animals lived.
Daemon was there because of a challenge they had made, when they were doubting what Daemon could really do with his own fists.
"You really are an even better warrior than the one who can drink without falling!" Hrogar said, laughing, impressed to see Daemon defeat several of his men.
Even though it seemed absurd, he had said he would face however many they sent against him — and six of them had charged at once, only to be defeated by the Dragonborn in a brawl with just his fists.
The entire clan was astonished by the strength Daemon displayed, and their respect for him grew to a level that not even Ned had managed to reach among them.
Ned was friendly and his strength was recognized, but Daemon was on another level. Besides sharing a good banquet and enjoying himself with them in a far livelier way than Lord Stark ever had, he also showed himself to be an even more powerful warrior, someone worthy of adoration.
The stories he had told the night before also did not leave the leader's mind, who recalled every detail: battles against werewolves, against dragons and beings who proclaimed themselves gods… it all seemed abnormal, but at the same time extraordinary, something no one there had ever imagined facing.
Hrogar had never heard of anyone who had seen or fought against beings like the ones Daemon had described with such precision and detail without losing himself. And Daemon's very demonstration of magic proved many of his words.
He had shown himself worthy of being a man the Norrey clan should follow in just one day.
He had arrived as a man everyone looked at with caution, accompanied by his dragon, which no one wanted to face. At the same time, there was already gratitude and respect, since he had exterminated the ironborn in the region. However, there was also indignation, for he had taken the Wall and brought the largest number of wildlings the North had ever seen in its history, even more so with the news of raids and crimes committed by some of those wildlings shortly after. Although there were rumors that Daemon had dealt with them all alone and killed them all.
Even so, in a single day, Daemon quickly gained their trust and admiration. No one there could deny the respect that the Norrey clan now granted him.
...
...
"So you're going to the Wulls? They are not at all pleased… they said one of their men returned from the North," said one of the warriors.
"I understand. Well… perhaps I killed them all, if it was the group that tried to attack us," Daemon said calmly, while Hrogar raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I won't argue about that," the man replied in a tired tone, not wanting to think any further about the possibilities of what was or wasn't possible before the man in front of him.
"Anyway, I want you to go to Winterfell. There I will explain everything… the reason so many of the free folk are in the South and who our true enemy is. And, as surprising as it may seem, I am not speaking of the Iron Throne, but of a battle to save the North and the entire world." He paused briefly.
"Because I need everyone. That is one of the reasons why we must take the Iron Throne, and you will understand everything when you arrive in Winterfell," Daemon said in a mysterious tone.
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