Chapter 35: The Great Council of 101 AC - I
Disclaimer: This is a story based on ASOIAF Universe and all recognizable characters, plots belong to GRRM. I have no ownership to it.
100 AC
King's Landing
Daemon Snow
I sighed in tiredness as I walked out of Princess Gael's chambers and slipped into the secret passage I had entered from. It had been two years since the tourney, and I had continued meeting Gael as often as possible. She, too, had shown great enthusiasm for our meetings. But now, it had become almost a chore not to fuck her—especially since she did everything within her power to make it happen.
For the past three moons, I had created a distraction by sneaking her through the secret pathways into the city proper to explore taverns and alleyways. I was not the canon Rogue Prince who paraded a princess around for all to see. My own disguise was good enough that no one recognized Princess Gael. The three unfortunate souls who did realize they'd seen a Targaryen never got the chance to speak—they only met the Stranger.
I reached the entrance to the city and opened the hidden door without caution. My warg network in King's Landing had developed enough to act as a radar. The animals had grown more intelligent through my influence, and they knew to tug on our bond if anyone approached my position when I am in a place where I shouldn't be. Also the movies are correct in the sense that no one looks above, especially in the darkness of the Red Keep.
I had tried to keep an eye on Baelon to see whether he was poisoned in 100 AC. But he kept finding and killing the animals I sent near him, which made me withdraw my resources. I would have to rely on greenseeing to confirm whether the fanon theory about Baelon's death being unnatural was true.
I returned to my hired room, lay down on the bed, and closed my eyes, letting my mind wander. It reached Cannibal first—he was napping on Dragonstone. Then it reached Fenrir, who was hunting in the Wolfswood. Finally, I turned my attention to the animals I had left with my children scattered across the continent.
All seemed well in the South—they were thriving. I felt a rare moment of contentment… until I glanced North. My heart skipped a beat. Over half of the animals were near Wintertown—or worse, inside Winterfell itself.
"What the fuck are my children doing in Winterfell when I left them among the smallfolk?" I hissed. It didn't even take greenseeing to confirm the truth.
Cregan Stark.
I sighed again in exasperation. 'Fucking hell, Cregan. The only question is whether you did it to gain powerful underlings or out of love for your bloodline. Whatever the reason, it's fucking with my plans.'
I was sorely tempted to resolve the matter through greendreams and avoid the trip to Winterfell altogether—but then I snorted.
'Well, Cannibal has been complaining about the lack of flying and my companionship. Might as well make the most of it. Besides, I definitely need to be away when Baelon falls ill and dies. No way I'm getting implicated later by not offering my method of healing him.'
The next day
I hissed in pleasure as I reached my release. I won't lie—I'm going to miss Gael in the coming moons while I'm away from King's Landing and even after her death. It surprised me that I actually have to use my control aspect of my abilities to not fall in love with her.
With an exaggerated sound of a kiss, Gael let go of my cock and slid up my body to rest on my chest, cuddling close. We lay there in quiet intimacy, and I realized I had to break the news now—otherwise I wouldn't be able to say it at all.
"Gael," I whispered.
"Mmm?" she murmured sensually.
"This will be our last time together for the foreseeable future. I'm leaving King's Landing for several moons to prepare for our marriage."
Gael immediately protested at the idea of me leaving, but she brightened at the mention of marriage.
"When will you return, my love?" she asked, sorrowful but hopeful.
"I'll be back after several moons. Don't worry, my dear. See that eagle?" I pointed to the bird perched on the windowsill. "It will carry our messages. You can write to me anytime, and I'll reply." I said to gave her something.
Gael looked pleased—for a moment—before her expression shifted into one of sharp irritation.
Being clever, I ignored the shift in her mood and closed my eyes to let it pass.
She scoffed. "Is that it, Jon?"
My eyes snapped open at the mocking tone when she called me Jon.
"Gael?" I asked cautiously.
"Even when you're about to leave me—for who knows how long or where—you're still pretending to be Jon Snow? You're not even going to tell me your real name, nephew of mine?" she asked with a mocking smile.
My body tensed for a moment before I forcefully relaxed and laughed. After a few moments of her annoyed silence, my laughter subsided and I grinned. I know I could react seriously and lead to unplanned areas, but knowing Gael so well, I decided to laugh the matter off as if it is actually irrelevant.
"Well, they say all the world's a stage, and we are merely characters. I could certainly be a Jon Snow."
"Don't grin like you're the only one who knows the joke and others just fools." she snapped.
"Nothing like that, my dearest aunt. I am Daemon Snow," I said simply.
She waited, expecting more titles or a grand reveal. But seeing my amused smile and lack of elaboration, she sighed. "That's it? No birthplace, no parentage? No grandiose tiles of declaration? I was expecting at least the 'Red Death'."
I shrugged. "Names mean little to me now. I can achieve anything with just my presence and talent. Just like I acquired you, my love." I smirked.
Gael scoffed. "Oh? Is that so? Well, I know something only a Targaryen name can grant—dragons."
This time I actually burst out laughing naturally. There was no need for acting. "Really? I don't see any dragons bonded to you, my love."
Gael's smirk turned to a frown. "Blame my mother for her overprotectiveness."
I simply smiled knowingly. Silence fell between us as she fidgeted on my chest.
"You're not going to ask when or how I found out?" she asked, curiosity clear.
I shrugged. "I already knew you were intelligent, my love. It doesn't matter when you realized. Your rapid improvement in health, strength, and magical ability would have told you enough. There is no one else in this lands who could perform such healing and thus you concluded that I was Daemon Snow. As I said, names are meaningless for us and you fell in love with a bard. It doesn't matter I have some other qualities too. All that matters I that you love me, and I will marry you."
"Oh… that's good," Gael said. "So, where will you arrange our marriage?"
I hesitated, then decided the truth was enough.
"I want to marry you at the Isle of Faces, in the God's Eye. I need to prepare it. Also, I must visit Winterfell to deal with Cregan."
Gael hesitated. "Are you ready to face Silverwing when we elope?"
"Don't worry, my love. By that time, even Vhagar will hesitate before trying to stop us," I said with such conviction that no doubt remained.
Gael nodded, believing me.
We lay together, cuddling. For once, I didn't leave before falling asleep beside her.
The North
I was strapped to one of Cannibal's horns—still no saddle—and we flew high above the clouds, higher than any Dragonlord had dared. The cold and the thin air didn't bother me. We crossed Westeros in a single day, stopping only once. I wondered how much of that speed was Cannibal's power, how much was our bonded enhancement, and how much came from mastering air currents.
I had summoned Cannibal to an abandoned cliffside far from King's Landing, and he had arrived just as I did. There was no grand greeting—just silent acknowledgment. He was pleased we were flying again, though grumbled when I told him we were heading North. Still, he encouraged me to perform the ritual with Gael next year.
We landed inside the Wolfswood, and I used my animals to orient myself in relation to Winterfell. Cannibal flew off to hide and rest while I ran the rest of the way.
I was silent as I entered the godswood, spotting Cregan before the heart tree. I hadn't even reached him before he called out.
"Daemon, truly a surprise to see you here and now," Cregan said with genuine joy.
"Brother," I acknowledged. "You look like a proper Lord of Winterfell after all this time."
Cregan smiled warmly. "Now, let's get to the point. What the fuck are you doing, Cregan? Why are half the children I left behind now in Winterfell or nearby?" I finished harshly.
Cregan's eyes widened briefly before his expression settled into the Stark mask.
"I did wonder if you were watching them. Seems it was more than that. You left children with potential scattered among our bannermen's muster of men. Their potential is unknown—and I can't risk any of them surpassing you. I want Winterfell to have an advantage. Besides, they're my blood. It's my duty to protect them, a duty you seem to neglect. So, I stepped in, just like my grandfather stepped in for you."
I immediately snorted, "I don't see anyone living in the family quarters, having a lord's education or even having noble training. You can sell the loving family man to your subjects, not to the person who taught you everything.
Cregan remained silent and his face didn't betray anything.
I studied him—searching for the line between truth and manipulation. At least I was proud he had embraced my lessons: pragmatism and selfishness hidden beneath a cloak of benevolence that others will praise you for. I understood why cregan did it. He wanted the Stark Men to be extra ordinary before any of his bannerman.
"Well, be satisfied with what you have. No more are to be brought in. I left them among the smallfolk for a reason, Cregan. I need the collective strength of men to rise—and that takes generations. Only my blood spreading through them will bring the results we need."
Cregan looked confused for a moment before realization struck him.
"You're preparing for the Second Long Night," he whispered.
I nodded. "Aye, brother. The dead have had eight thousand years to collect corpses—human, animal, and worse. Their numbers will be immense. Humanity will need strength to survive. The humans need to be just more than how they are now."
Cregan just looked horrified at the full possibility of the matter. "And it won't happen in my lifetime, will it?" He asked sadly.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "By my estimates, we have nearly two more centuries. But with my meddling? Who knows. That's why I haven't done more beyond the Wall, aside from wiping out some wildling filth and collecting direwolves and mammoths."
"They've been a godsend," Cregan admitted. "Tamed mammoths have revolutionized transporting wood, one of our major trade as of now."
I waved off the praise. "How's Rickon?"
Cregan smiled fondly. "Doing well. Old Nan says he's more developed than any child in recent generations. Your plan is working. And… I'll stop recruiting your bastards, Daemon. If it's essential, I'll leave it be."
I sighed in relief. No need to argue further. We discussed several matters, and I prepared to return to Cannibal. I didn't want word of my presence in Winterfell reaching anyone—I was supposed to be in Essos.
"You're leaving without seeing Lyanna?" Cregan asked. "She misses you. She's angrier every day. Lady Mormont gifting her Longclaw hasn't helped—she's nearly unbeatable in the yard. Only I can best her now."
I grinned with pride. "Then you keep improving quickly, brother, or even you will fall. But I can't see her—it would delay me too much."
Cregan nodded in understanding.
I was nearly out of the clearing when Cregan called out again.
"Daemon, I just remembered. Aethan had come here one moon ago in worry. I've never seen him so unhinged. He was asking whether you have contacted or not and he couldn't contact you using green-dreams because of your own stupid mind defences. I suggest you stop at Greywater Watch on your run back.
I just looked back slightly and with a shrug I left, neither confirming nor rejecting the advice.
The Neck.
I was flying back on Cannibal, and when you are alone, seeing the snow-filled land, your mind wanders. I was thinking about the time I spent with my dear friend and how much time had passed since I had seen him directly.
Even though I had no plan to stop—especially after Cregan's warning about Aethan—when I reached the start of the Neck, nostalgia and even some form of dread hit me, as if I would be committing a mistake if I didn't visit my friend Aethan.
I thought about it. I hadn't revealed to anyone that I had claimed Cannibal, and what better person to start with than my best friend Aethan Reed—the one person who knows me the most and supports me no matter what I do. I decided that he deserves to see the truth first, before hearing or seeing it from other sources.
I directed a thought to Cannibal, and he grumbled but flew over to the place I indicated.
It was a weirwood clearing deep in the Neck that only bird-wargs could find and reach. It was the only place in the Neck where a dragon could land without anyone normal knowing. I had no doubt about the loyalty of the wargs of the Neck, as they would remain silent if they saw me and only inform their Lord Aethan Reed.
Cannibal landed in the clearing, and I jumped down from his back with a somersault after removing the rope binding me to him. I didn't have a saddle because there was no way to build one without someone discovering the truth.
I landed on the ground and decided to spend the night there, as I knew Aethan would come during the night—he must have known of my presence by now.
I woke up from my nap as I could hear the almost silent steps.
"Cannibal, don't bother with him. It is my dearest friend," I said to Cannibal through the bond. Cannibal didn't acknowledge my message at all but continued his nap, reassured by my words.
I walked towards the middle, and I saw the open eyes of Aethan Reed, who stood frozen, surprised to see the dragon lying in the clearing. His eyes finally found mine, and I could see relief and some weariness in them as he observed me. I ignored the close scrutiny and I walked forward as Aethan remained frozen and didn't move.
I reached near him, and with a hearty laugh, Aethan shook of the wariness as he stepped forward two steps and hugged me.
"Daemon, I'm so glad you stopped here to see me, my friend," Aethan said. He completely ignored Cannibal and didn't even ask anything about him. I frowned at his apparent happiness because, as far as I knew, there was no trouble in the Neck and nothing dangerous happening in the North. The feeling I get from his words was that my visit is gonna prevent something horrible or I am going to save someone Aethan loves, not the happiness of seeing an old friend.
"Come on, Aethan. What is the problem that I don't know about? And you haven't even said a single word about me claiming the unclaimable Cannibal. You knew it was one of my goals for decades, and here I am informing you first about claiming a dragon, and you ignore the dragon in the room."
Aethan laughed at that. "I had no doubt about you accomplishing this, Daemon. You are a walking impossibility. What surprises me is you," he finished with an eerie voice, no mirth or laughter. Even I was affected by Aethan's mercurial mood change as the laughter vanished.
"Me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "What about me, Aethan? I'm the same Daemon you last saw before I ventured south. Just a Dragon-lord and more powerful—that's the only difference." I finished with my usual arrogant, boastful laugh that had been perfected between us friends.
Aethan frowned. "For moons, I've been having a nightmare, Daemon. A nightmare about you. I was worried sick about your life."
Aethan snapped as he saw me laughing at that. "It's not a laughing matter, Daemon. But now, seeing you, I wonder if I had misread the nightmares entirely."
My entire mirth vanished, as I knew to take any threat to my life very seriously.
"Threat to my life, Aethan? Unless I venture beyond the Wall like a fool or challenge the Red Demon, there is nothing that truly threatens me—especially with Cannibal with me. I'm safer than ever."
Aethan sighed tiredly. "You misunderstand me, Daemon. I wasn't saying the nightmare was a warning to your life, but a warning about you. Now, seeing you, I'm almost sure of it. You've changed drastically. You can mask your presence in your charismatic self all you want, but you feel inhuman to my senses, Daemon. My mind is constantly seeing a predator and planning how to fight or flee from you. Before, even with all your inhuman feats, you always felt the most humane of all of us—because of your behavior and attitude. Now… there's something wrong in you, Daemon."
I was struck silent by the words of my oldest and most trusted friend. I was angered, of course, but I was mature enough to take Aethan's words seriously. I trust his loyalty to me and how much he wishes the best for me. So even though his words hurt more than anything else, I remained silent. I wanted to deny them—but for the last six to seven years, my life had been an act of lies to achieve my goals. And even in that, I spend two years almost in the presence of dragons or healing from most gruesome wounds and damages my body ever dealt with. It was years of violence, selfish killings and plans of dominating an Apex Predator like Cannibal. It was necessary… but who knows how much it changed me?
"Aethan? What are you really worried about?" I asked hesitantly.
"I don't know, Daemon, and that's killing me. Maybe it's the cannibalistic kin-slaying dragon you tamed that changed you, Daemon. Even now, while it's sleeping there, I can feel the maliciousness oozing out of it. I don't know how Valyrian dragon bonds work, but you're a warg too. You know how animals influence and are influenced by us. It's corrupting you, Daemon—or at least, I hope it's the dragon corrupting you."
I scoffed. "You're correct, Aethan, you know nothing. Cannibal is greater than lesser animals—even other dragons. He still has some reservations about being bonded, but I assure you the bond is true. I can literally feel his care and love for his bonded. He would protect and save me no matter what and would follow my orders if I needed him to."
Aethan looked at me in disbelief. "I don't see how a beast oozing that much malice could ever feel the things you just said, Daemon. Anyway, please be careful and thoughtful about whatever you do. This world is not ready to lose you yet, my dear friend."
I looked at Cannibal, using all my senses, trying to see what Aethan was apparently seeing—but I couldn't feel anything wrong. I looked back at Aethan and said, "Your warning is noted, friend. I will be wary in my dealings."
Aethan smiled at that, but I could see it was a forced smile. We both knew that was the end of that serious matter.
"Now tell me how you did this, Daemon, and I'll share your favorite—lizard lion meat," Aethan said with a smirk.
101 AC
The Rogue Prince
King's Landing
Daemon Targaryen needed all his control not to rage and cry as his father's funeral pyre was lit by Vhagar and Caraxes. The Queen was too heartbroken and physically weak to come, but the Old King and all others were present.
The nobles of the court stood at a respectful distance as the pyre was consumed by dragonfire. Caraxes shrieked mournfully, and Vhagar remained silent, but Daemon could still feel the rage and sorrow of the Old War Queen even from here.
They stood on Visenya's Hill, surrounded by unwashed masses who yelled irrelevant things. Still, even Daemon could feel the peasants' sadness, as they feared what would happen now that the beloved avenging Prince Baelon the Brave died. There was even some yells of Death to the Slavers, as if Baelon was killed by those scums. But Daemon knew the truth, it was no assassin it was sickness that claimed his father.
Daemon internally scoffed at that, for he knew there was only one choice: his elder brother, Viserys Targaryen. Daemon looked at his cousin Rhaenys and was glad that at least she had come to pay her respects.
Daemon was pulled from his thoughts by the harsh voice of the Old King.
"Aegon."
The call was immediately followed by the king summoning Viserys, Rhaenys, and Daemon as well. Daemon looked at his younger brother and realized that Aegon had been walking toward Vhagar when the king called out—then covered it up by summoning all his present grandchildren.
"Aegon, you dumb fuck," Daemon whispered before following the king's orders along with the others.
Daemon assembled in the king's solar with Viserys, Rhaenys, and his younger brother Aegon. He could clearly see the exhaustion and age in the Old King—worsened now by the death of yet another child. Daemon immediately reined in his emotions regarding his father, knowing it would make him volatile again. Control was necessary now, especially as he could already sense his "bitch" of a cousin preparing to make her claim.
"Your Grace, you called us here?" Viserys asked, while Aegon grumbled from his place near the wall.
The Old King ignored Viserys entirely. "Aegon, please tell me you were not about to try and claim Vhagar then and there when I called you."
Rhaenys gasped at that; even Viserys paled at the thought. Aegon looked down in shame before lifting his head with determination.
"Yes. I was going to claim Vhagar. She was my father's dragon, and now she belongs to me. Viserys has his kingdom, Daemon has his sword, and I will have his dragon—a fair division of his possessions among his three sons and a future for House Targaryen. Don't you think so, Your Grace?" Aegon said with firm resolve.
Daemon smirked and looked to the Old King for his reaction. The king looked as if he had been struck by the audacity of his grandson.
"Clearly, you have been coddled too much, Aegon. Baelon failed both you and me if this is what you've learned. Your father had nothing to give away—everything he had came from my will and generosity. He was not yet king. His dragon was claimed only after seeking my permission. I gave Dark Sister to Daemon and not Baelon.
"Let's set aside the arrogance and pride. Aegon, you clearly know nothing of dragons if you thought you could claim Vhagar over the funeral pyre of her previous rider. Daemon, please tell us what would have happened if this fool had tried to mount Vhagar then."
Daemon grinned in anticipation and looked at his youngest brother—a brother he loved and hated in equal measure.
"Valonqar, you should have succeeded in approaching Vhagar without anyone noticing. Then you would've made history," Daemon said, his grin widening at Aegon's briefly hopeful expression. "By dying in dragonfire and being remembered as the most idiotic Targaryen ever. Vhagar is grieving, and no one can claim her until she is ready again. It hasn't even been a week since our father died. The bond is still too raw."
Aegon paled, his face turning ashen in horror.
"I… I… I didn't know," Aegon whispered.
"Clearly," the Old King replied coldly. "No one is to approach Vhagar. And you are not to approach any dragon until you learn all there is to know about dragonlore—from either of your brothers or from Rhaenys. You will only be allowed near a dragon again if they give me their word of your competence in the matter. I will not bury another of my blood," the Old King snapped.
"Your Grace," Rhaenys began, hesitant.
"Enough, Rhaenys," the Old King snapped. "If this is about the matter of succession, do not waste my time. You will never be heir, and Viserys is my heir now, as it should be. I've heard that Corlys has started playing the game of thrones. If you can promise to stop that here and now, then I have nothing else to say to you."
Daemon just snorted and laughed at that while suppressing any sound. But he made sure everyone would see his mirth.
"I am your eldest son's daughter, and by all laws of gods and men, I should be the Queen. I will not stop fighting for that. Even now, your own wife supports me—she is just too sickly to come here and argue with you."
The Old King scoffed. "I see no compromise among you lot, and I will have no more of it. I am summoning my remaining son here—Prince Vaegon. Maybe I should declare him as my heir and let the matter end here."
Even before anyone could protest they were dismissed by the King. Daemon just cursed his stupid cousin and her sea worm of a husband. They are giving him extra work by making him go and recruit men in support of his brother.
Authors Note: so the next chapter is great council II and chapter 37 is finally the ritual. It is ironic that even though chapter title is great council, it has so little screentime.
So any guesses when or how gael identified daemon…. I don't know if u realised it, gael never answered and it was daemon's assumption, which is usually correct we read.
Also initially I made baelon die in 100ac because of increased stress of abusing magic and other ruling related stress, but later changed to canon time.
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