[Chapter Size: 2300 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Winterfell.
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...
The army of Daemon Targaryen raised the banners of the house of the dragon, with the red three-headed dragon on a black field, fluttering in the wind as the men carried the standards, just like all the other flags heading south with the king.
It took about two weeks to reach Moat Cailin, with the army marching during the day and setting camp at night, but moving an entire host to the point of leaving the front of Winterfell deserted.
Daemon's horse halted when Moat Cailin finally appeared before him, and the entire army followed his example, men shouting to stop along the long line of soldiers.
A group of riders approached shortly after, men bearing the banner of the Stormlands.
"This is Ser Simon Massey." Lord Stark murmured quietly to Daemon, who nodded in silence as he waited for them to approach, even though he appreciated the information — since he wasn't aware of every detail of the minor houses of the realms nor the appearance of each lord.
The group finally stopped as their scout rode forward. "Your Majesty, this is Ser Simon Massey. He insisted on coming to greet you in Lord Stannis's name," the scout said.
"Thank you, soldier. Now let's see what Ser Simon Massey has to say." Daemon said calmly, his gaze turning back to the man, who nodded and bowed his head more than necessary, trying to show some respect.
"Your Majesty, I am here in the name of… Lord Stannis…" Ser Simon Massey began. He seemed to have trained hard not to call him king again. "...He asks for sincere apologies for the incident with the witch. Though most did not like her, some still supported her and helped her escape justice, and Lord Stannis made sure that all who helped her were hanged," he said.
Daemon looked at him with a different tone. "Well, I must say the witch tested my patience with that little trick. But if she had tried to kill anyone else close to me… well, it is very likely we would not be having this conversation right now." He spoke with a harsh tone, making the messenger flinch.
There was power and threat in his voice. If that summoned shadow had been directed toward his wife or someone important to Daemon… well, all those twenty-one storm men camped at Moat Cailin would feel his wrath.
As everyone quickly felt the tense atmosphere rising, Daemon opened a more amicable smile. "However, it was directed at me, and no harm was done. So tell Stannis that I am more inclined to talk about this. But that does not justify his mistake entirely." Daemon said the last words with a hint of threat.
The man nodded quickly. "I will inform Lord Stannis of your demands, Your Majesty. I will speak to him now. Some of my men would like to accompany you and guide you to the meeting inside Moat Cailin." After that, the man turned his horse and left swiftly.
Daemon nodded and raised his hand for everyone to follow him, still keeping a slow pace.
And so they went, riding for a few more minutes until they passed by Stannis's army camped in the few areas of firm ground there, since the terrain was terrible to walk or ride on, as the natural defense it was.
Daemon rode at the front beside Val. Lafy, Lucis's brother and now Daemon's squire, also accompanied the king, always trying to maintain the composure that all southerners tried to show when near the king. Ygritte wasn't far behind. Robb Stark and Lord Stark also rode close, as well as Lord Tallhart, Lord Glover, Lord Manderly, Lord Reed and his son, Lord Lorene Hornwood, some leaders of the mountain clans and the Magnar of Skagos, who were still adult fighters. The Umber men and Karstark men couldn't bring their young heirs for being too young, but that didn't stop trusted men from leading their soldiers of the great houses, just as the Dustin men did.
But that was the free folk's side. Mance, Tormund, and others accompanied the king in the main command group.
"Now I'm surrounded by kneeling northerners and kneeling southerners… but these last ones seem uglier than the ones from this region usually are," Tormund didn't hold back, staring at the Stormland men around them.
"Tormund, we shouldn't be so morally open," Mance commented with a warning look.
"Ah, but these men said they liked hearing honest things. So the great Tormund Giantsbane is going to speak some truths!" he said.
"Well, it seems my men didn't lie when they said you're honest a bit too much…" Lord Tallhart said with a sigh, seeing the Stormland men glaring at Tormund and everyone around.
"And what did you want me to be, exactly?" Tormund challenged. "Did you want me to be a delicate flower who speaks flowery words and lies to you?"
"We northerners prefer raw integrity, hard as steel and fire, over lies. Don't confuse us with the people below the neck, who like setting traps and killing guests after welcoming them into their homes," Lord Glover mocked toward Tormund.
Hearing that, everyone certainly grew grim.
"Those are the Freys, right? We're going to destroy them completely. I want to see the faces of those fools when the huge army of the free folk is standing before their castles! They'll tremble like little girls!" Tormund began laughing and shouting, while some free folk nearby roared.
The northerners didn't even know what to say about those comments — they were certainly the weakest group among them all. Ten thousand northerners were only a fraction compared to the one hundred and thirty thousand free folk. Disorganized and clumsy as they were, they still marched and followed the orders Daemon had established during the year of training beyond the Wall.
They might not be as effective as soldiers who trained their entire lives, but their numbers surpassed any army. Even the one hundred thousand men of the Reach would not easily handle the one hundred and thirty thousand free folk, since the Reachmen were green boys who had only fought the already-won battle of the Blackwater against Stannis himself.
Meanwhile, the free folk were forged in iron: their countless battles and terrors north of the Wall only strengthened them. Daemon had managed to create enough battle formations to keep them from retreating in the face of enemy advantages, making them stand firm against any opponent and hold their positions with their overwhelming numbers.
Daemon listened to the conversation as he continued forward and let out a more cheerful laugh. Val raised an eyebrow at him, but he kept speaking to the men who followed behind him.
"My brave soldiers, soon all of you will have your vengeance. The Freys are trembling with fear and will certainly piss themselves the moment they see what is coming for them — if they aren't doing it already, since some of their scouts have been desperately riding north and back, while Lord Reed's men try to catch anyone sneaking around. But it's good that one of them warns Lord Frey about what is coming for him, in vengeance for the Red Wedding." he said, pausing.
"The Boltons are nearly reaching King's Landing, hiding like bitches with their insignificant numbers. They have only five thousand men, and soon they will be destroyed along with the Lannisters, of whom I do not intend to spare a single one." Daemon declared, not caring if his men and the Baratheon soldiers heard him as they passed through their camp.
"Even the children?" Lord Stark murmured, carefully, for his nephew.
"I do not intend to murder children like Tywin did, but I do intend to take all their titles and their freedom. The younger ones will go to the Wall or to the Silent Sisters. They will be the last Lannisters, if we intend to erase this name once and for all, in the name of my sister and my brother who died in the sack of King's Landing…" Jon said, not minding being repetitive in his reasons.
Regardless, when they finally reached the gate of Moat Cailin, Stannis was there to receive them.
Daemon hadn't even passed the gate before animals ran ahead of his horse, finally catching up after running through the fields around them along the way. Ghost had stayed in Winterfell to protect Dany and Lucis, along with four more direwolves, two of them pregnant females who would remain with the women at all times, since Jon wanted to keep some protection for them while he was in the South.
The other direwolves were all with Daemon, following him south. Twenty direwolves — neither Lord Stark nor his son had wolves, so they all belonged solely to Daemon. The few that had survived the war with Robb still remembered very well their loyal battle companion.
And seeing more than twenty wolves now, all fully under Daemon's command — and controlled far better than Robb had ever managed with Grey Wind — earned respect among the northerners and even the free folk. One, because they represented the Starks, and two, because Daemon was a powerful warg after all.
The other giants quickly went in even before they passed through the gate. The outer men seemed frightened upon seeing a group of direwolves entering the yard, checking the whole place, sniffing for any danger or trap.
Several of Stannis's men stepped back when the wolves got too close, but no one dared attack them; they only moved aside once their instincts told them there was no danger for Daemon there.
Daemon entered looking at Stannis, standing beside Ser Davos and his other men. Ser Simon Massey was also there.
Daemon dismounted and approached Stannis while the wolves began lying down, opening a path for Daemon to walk through. The men also dismounted right behind. Lafy hurried to follow Daemon, positioning himself behind him as his squire, dodging the wolves and being careful not to irritate them by stepping on their tails or paws.
Daemon came close and soon broke the silence, his eyes analyzing Stannis Baratheon, while little Shireen stood beside him with her mother. She kept her gaze fixed on Daemon with surprise, admiration, and shyness.
"Lord Stannis, I believe our agreement — you declaring me the rightful king of Westeros, of the Seven Kingdoms, and you becoming the Lord of Storm's End, with your lineage taking the Baratheon seat after you." Daemon repeated the agreement made in White Harbor to ensure Stannis would truly follow him now.
And so he did, when Stannis Baratheon knelt before Daemon, and like a cascade effect, his daughter and wife — though the woman clearly disliked doing so — along with all the men around them, also knelt.
How could he not agree to the terms? After seeing what Daemon was capable of… His men practically begged him not to become an enemy, after already losing the entire fleet and being threatened to be turned into ice statues by the king's dragon.
How could they fight a dragon? And at that moment, the very roar of Winter came from the sky, as everyone immediately lifted their gaze to see the gigantic white bird circling above Moat Cailin, making it clear it was there as well. Its roar drew the attention of everyone, inside and outside those walls.
Stannis looked at Daemon. "Our agreement, as far as I am concerned, will be fulfilled, Your Majesty. I relinquish my crown and will fight at your side. I will be a commander to help you conquer the Seven Kingdoms and place you upon the Iron Throne. According to the rumors, the throne is already in your possession — you only need to set it in its place. As long as I become the Lord of Storm's End and my daughter remains my heir." Stannis declared, and Daemon smiled.
"Very well, you may rise along with your men. Our agreement stands exactly as described, Lord Baratheon." Daemon said. Stannis rose, and everyone around him followed.
"Moat Cailin is yours, Your Majesty," he declared in the end.
Daemon nodded and looked at the castle he had invaded more than a moon ago, destroying the ironborn while transformed into a werewolf, leaving the place filled with countless women waiting for Lord Reed's help, who rescued them later.
"Great. Mance, I want you to organize the free folk to camp outside along with the northerners. If Lord Glover wants to accompany you, do the same with the northerners," Daemon said before turning back to Stannis.
"I only want a few rooms for my main men. We need to stay about three days here. I want to discuss strategy, because we need to divide the army at this moment. But that will be a long conversation."
Daemon made it clear that there were two enemies to destroy first: the Ironborn and the Freys. Despite having a limited number of ships — those brought from Bear Island by Lyanna, those taken in Dustin territory, and the ones they managed to steal in the west — they would still take a large group of soldiers with Daemon on Winter, more than enough to cause great destruction in Pyke.
The ironborn attacked first, now it was their turn…
The Freys would not stand a chance against the rest of the army. Perhaps they would rely on a siege, but they knew they were at a massive disadvantage. How could the Twins handle more than a hundred thousand men behind their walls, ready to attack? They must have been in desperation, if they hadn't already abandoned the Twins — especially with a dragon ready to spit ice, which Daemon believed the rumors had already carried south, about Winter destroying three castles and a fleet of ships.
With that, Daemon began settling into the castle, while also adding twenty thousand men from the Stormlands, with Stannis Baratheon as one of the main commanders and a few others who would be tied to Daemon's war council.
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Raccoon Here:
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