Disclaimer: This is a story based on ASOIAF Universe and all recognizable characters, plots belong to GRRM. I have no ownership to it.
Chapter 45: The Great Game I
Daemon 'The Bastard King' Targaryen
Dragonstone
I was happy with the new laws I had established and my plans for what I was going to do after the announcement of my own changed status. I was sitting at the edge with my legs dangling down one of the many cliffs in Dragonstone. I was enjoying the blue sky and the sea, the winds, and the ambience of it all. I wondered how much I would curse the modern world for pollution when I finally found a way to travel to another world or when the Great Entity sent me to other worlds to accomplish my mission.
My peaceful thoughts were disturbed as I finally realized I could not postpone my talk with Gael about our children any longer. Fenrir had confirmed that Gael was with child during the meeting, and I was happy that I could act openly as a father to these children at last. Even then, I knew Gael would want to know about our unaging aspect and how our children would die before our eyes. I had known that fact for a long time and accepted it long ago. Even now, Fenrir, Morghul, and Gael were God's gifts to me, as I had finally found a way to share my form of immortality with them.
Another thing that made me hesitate was whether to inform Gael of other worlds and how I knew what I knew. I always valued honesty, and being truthful was far easier than keeping track of lies, yet this was not something I could simply tell her. After some time debating, I decided not to inform Gael of that aspect, but instead to put forward the theory of other worlds. It was much easier to grasp and believe that there was a world where I did not exist or where Gael had died in 98 AC, especially since she had seen that vision herself. On the other hand, if I spoke of worlds where I might find forms of immortality, it would only be false hope, as it could be a very long time before I ended up in such a world. I had yet to deal with even one of the magical threats I was sent to face, and already three decades had passed.
I was at least glad that one more threat had come to me rather than me wasting my time searching for it. I would never have suspected the Faceless Men as one of my targets had they not made a move against me. I was satisfied that my plans for Essos had become utterly necessary, as now there were two confirmed enemies waiting there for me: the entity possessing the Faceless Men and the Red Demon masquerading as the Red God, R'hllor. I thanked my younger self for choosing the harder task of taming Morghul rather than settling for one of the lesser Targaryen dragons. Starting with the higher level power of a Quarter Elder Dragon was far more useful than relying on the weaker legacies of Elder dragons.
I had seen Morghul dive into the ocean earlier, and it had been almost half an hour now. I wondered what he was hunting, and I felt immense happiness through our bond. I sent a whisper of power to Morghul's mind, and I saw a whale with much of its flesh missing, surrounded by red water. I felt the strain as Morghul sank his jaws into the whale and began to swim upward. Even with the buoyancy of the water, I knew that a Morghul before our bonding at God's Eye could never have done what he was doing now. After a phenomenal effort, the whale's body emerged from the sea, with Morghul radiating smugness as he broke the surface. He released his hold, and the whale fell back into the water. To his confusion and my amusement, the whale began sinking again.
"What? Why is it not floating?" Morghul cursed, feeling my amusement.
"It will take time for decomposition to set in before it starts floating, Morghul. If you want it as you please, you should push it to the beach."
The lazy dragon nearly dismissed the effort, but then he remembered the sweet taste of whale and vanished under the ocean again.
It was almost an hour later when I heard approaching footsteps. I knew it was Gael, as my warg senses told me.
"Daemon," Gael said as she sat beside me, throwing her arm around me in a side hug and resting her head on my shoulder. I wondered how I could ever have planned to kill her in the first place, and how broken I must have been to even consider it, even when I knew, I truly loved her.
I closed my eyes and smiled as I basked in the warmth of her embrace, but I opened my eyes again with a sigh preparing myself for the conversation about to be had.
"My love," I said.
"Now would be a good time to elaborate on what you said about our children dying," Gael asked, horror in her voice.
"Oh, Gael, please. You do not have to worry about any disease or even childbirth killing our children as is usual in this world. Even lesser poisons would not work on them, since they would inherit my own adaptations, though to a lesser extent. You are already immune to moon tea ingredients as well as most common poisons, as I have fed them to you over the years. There is no need to panic, Gael. The only possibility is age catching up to them decades later. As for enemies killing them, do not worry—I will make sure they reach a stage where they can defend themselves. And as for what may happen decades later, who knows? Perhaps I will have found a way to make sure they do not die at all." I said this to soothe her.
Gael's eyes widened in surprise as she realized I meant every word.
"What do you mean by that?" Gael asked with a frown.
I looked away into the distance as my thoughts raced, deciding how much to reveal. When I turned back, I saw the compassion and kindness in her gaze. For a moment, I wondered how she would feel about the blood I must spill in the future, and I knew I needed her wholehearted support. I felt like scum for what I was about to do. Manipulate her by implying something else when I know for a fact that it is up to Fate, where I would end up.
"Gael, have you ever wondered why I have these abilities and why they manifested now?" I asked. She nodded slightly for me to continue.
"The truth is, there are demons hiding in this world—powers feeding on human misery, cruelty, and pain. I was given these abilities to end them and save this world. I have identified two of the most powerful and dangerous among them. You already know of them as I've spoken before: the White Walkers and R'hllor. Now I know the other is the Faceless Men, or whatever force possesses their bodies. I had a vision that the gods would reward me greatly if I ended all these threats. All my moves and plans are aimed at that. So imagine the reward I could demand once I complete this quest."
Gael's smile widened immediately, her mind leaping to what I would ask for.
"Then, we will make sure that we end these threats as soon as possible, Daemon," Gael said with conviction. "Tell me what I must do to make this happen. It does not matter if we must lie, cheat, or kill for it. We must end this long suffering as soon as possible."
I smiled in approval. "Gael, the first thing is that you will sit in all meetings, and you will start new orphanages in the name of House Targaryen in King's Landing. And a healing house called the Healing Hand. By the time you are crowned my queen, the people of King's Landing should love you so deeply they will see you as the Mother Reborn."
Gael's eyes brightened as she realized she could lessen the cruelty of the world while also gaining benefit from it.
"That is an easy plan. Healing Hands will work, since I could hand out potions made from your blood and claim the credit," Gael said thoughtfully. She knew the potions were nothing more than water mixed with a few drops of my blood and fruit juice to hide the taste of iron.
"No, that is not it." I replied with a shrug.
Gael looked intrigued.
"If it were potions, they would be seen as medicine, a god's gift. Fools would believe anyone could learn it, and soon enough there would be frauds and imitators. That would harm your reputation. So, no—there will be no potion. Healing must come from whatever food or fruit is received from your hands, or prepared by your hands."
"That is impossible. How could it be done? The Logistics alone would be a nightmare. The blood's red colour would be visible, and everyone would suspect," Gael said with a grimace.
"True," I admitted with a shrug. "That is why you will hand out food only from the House of Healing Hands in King's Landing and the Red Keep. The people handling the food must be trusted, and I will ensure their loyalty. More than that we would start slow by actually healing the serious cases. You know, wherever I end up living, whether it was Winterfell or Bear Island, I made sure there was no more disease and no death due to injury or sickness. I would only start that in House of Healing hands and not in Red Keep, making sure all those who are admitted recover."
"Loyalty? Like you did with those two in your group of bards." Gael said mockingly. I had long boasted to her about the loyalty and friendships I have cultivated as a bard and as Daemon Snow.
"They were loyal for so long, dear. My mistake was acting too friendly, giving them more freedom than I should have. The father and son forgot I am higher in birth, status, and power. They thought I would marry their daughter— or sister—living in White Harbor when I finally satisfied my wanderlust. Of course, the girl was unusually clever and beautiful among the smallfolk and one of my more frequent and favourite lays, still I do not understand how or why they thought that, I would settle with her. So, when I finally told them that I am leaving Essos with you and gave the song for them to sing of our love and marriage, they wanted revenge on me. I would make sure to correct the mistake from now on. Being too friendly can be just as dangerous as being too cruel."
Gael looked as though she had swallowed a lemon when I praised the girl, but I could feel her anger on my behalf at their betrayal.
"Are they still alive, Daemon?" Gael asked.
"They are under my observation at all times and I made sure they will not leave Kingslanding before I reach there. They have served me really well till now, spreading the rumours, songs or whatever I wanted. Now their betrayal and death will also serve me one more time," I whispered with a smirk as I had already decided what would happen to them the moment I identified it was them who blabbered my plans.
"Good," Gael said firmly. "And the woman in White Harbour?"
I grimaced at that. "Well, she is bringing up our two children. One is six and the other is four. I would stop in White Harbour too in my trip to the North tomorrow and kill her. I do not want her to use my children for her own revenge when she finds out what happens to her family," I said. "I will leave the children with Cregan or maybe with Lord Manderly."
"No," Gael said immediately. "You will bring them to Kingslanding and they would be the first children in my new orphanage."
"It is too much work, with too little to gain. I mean, what is there to gain?" I asked curiously.
Gael's mouth opened in surprise and she looked at me like I am an idiot.
"Daemon, please tell me that you did not plan to just kidnap those two men and kill them to send the message while the girl dies mysteriously from an accident caused by some animal."
I scowled as that was my exact plan with a slight variation during killing them.
Gael frowned as she processed that was my plan. She then remained silent for a couple of seconds before she sighed.
"Daemon, you are a Prince of the Blood now. There is no need for needless murder, when we could legally sentence them to die. We should use this to send a message to all. You have left hundreds of bastards, and I don't believe everyone would be as altruistic as Cregan Stark. The story would be that you had two bastards with the woman in White Harbour, and the bards believed you should marry the girl even though you were already providing for them. Since you believed the family to be your friends and loyal servants, you informed them of your marriage to me, and they tried to sell you and a princess to slavers while we were coming to Dragonstone after we eloped. There should be a trial before the court where they are sentenced to die.
It would even explain why we were missing for weeks and why the king ordered a manhunt, if we had the king's blessing to marry in the first place. Hearing of the traitors' deaths, the woman would die of shame and heartbreak, leaving behind your two poor children. The kind princess, blessed with healing hands from the Gods, thought that children should not be punished for their parents' sins. She convinced you not to send the boy to the Night's Watch or the girl to the Silent Sisters. She persuaded the prince, who had grown up a bastard himself, to pity them and bring them to King's Landing so he could personally see to their care in his family's orphanage. The children would grow knowing that fact that my kindness saved them a lifelong of hardships while everyone else would know what would happen if one of your bastards overstep."
I was amazed by Gael's plan as it would squeeze out the last bit of use from the traitors' life. I had kept them alive till now only because I wanted to use their death to send a message to my idiotic cousins. I could still do that while sending a message to the wider realm.
"Well, the old king really fucked up when he allowed your mother to keep you as her comfort toy all these years. If he knew you inherited his cunning like this, he would have definitely done things differently," I praised her genuinely.
Gael blushed for a moment before she shook her head as she cleared the embarrassment.
"Thank you, Daemon," Gael said. "I am glad at least you found me."
"Aye. That I did," I said with a smile. I looked at her face and I could see the evening sunlight hitting her silver hair while the wind made several hairs fly around. It was an ethereal sight and suddenly it hit me like a strike from Fenrir when we fight each other.
She was pregnant with my child. Fenrir confirmed it for me and it was enough. She walked here alone and anyone could attack her. Of course, she would survive with our bond and my healing, but an attack in the stomach area, it would be a miracle if our child survived.
"Gael," I called suddenly, and she immediately looked at me in slight worry since she felt the panic in my voice. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm my rage at the thought of harm to our children. I opened my eyes and continued. "Gael, love, it just appeared to me that you will be among the rabble in King's landing for a long time with the orphanages and healing hands. Now or later, everyone will understand there is no use in coming at me personally. Even if the idiots scoffed at the songs Red Death, they would realise the truth. The next target would be you and our future children. I am not worried about poisons, but an assassin's blade. Hence, from now on, Fenrir and Lyanna will be your constant companions wherever you go."
Gael's eyes narrowed in anger at that, which surprised me.
"What in the Doom has gotten to you, Daemon?" Gael snapped. "I just got out of a protective prison made by my mother and now my own husband wants me in it. There will be no way I will be in prison again, husband."
"Wait, wait," I cut her off before she could launch into a tirade. "You misunderstand, love. I said they will be your companions, not jailers. If you want to walk through the streets of King's Landing, they will be with you. If you want to visit an Ale house, they will be with you. If you want to swim in the sea, they will be with you. If you want to hunt animals or bandits, they will be with you. In fact, any time you are not with me, they will be with you. They will simply follow and ensure nothing happens to you. Nothing more, nothing less."
Gael remained silent as she processed it, still looking doubtful. "Still, I do not understand why? I would survive it and I am not exactly defenceless now. I am getting stronger, faster and more skilful with the knife every day. And how did you think the wild Lyanna would want to follow me every day from now on and not be free to do what she wants?"
"You are indeed becoming dangerous, Gael," I acknowledged. "The problem is, you know the fact that you will survive, and you have become reckless. It is not, in fact, your problem. Everyone who remained fragile their entire life and then got the assurance of safety becomes reckless. I was that once upon a time and it took me just surviving 100 wights and two White Walkers for me to become extra cautious. The fact is, if you get a stab wound through your stomach while pregnant, you will survive, our child will not. So, I do not want to take any chance then and you should be prepared for it from now on."
Gael's doubt vanished as I finished, and I was glad that she understood my view.
She nodded at me and I smiled. My smile turned to a victorious grin as I continued, "As for Lyanna, you are correct in your judgement. She would hate being tied to you or anyone like that, but she would do it because it is her punishment for meddling where she was not needed. The old king got the confirmation of his insane plan to blackmail me from his meeting with Lyanna. For that, she deserves at least some punishment."
Gael just laughed at that, to which I replied with a smirk that promised frustrating punishements for any of our future problem children.
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The Neck
Just like last time, I landed Morghul in the same clearing and waited for my friend to arrive. I was not disappointed as Aethan arrived at the clearing.
"Daemon, this is truly a surprise," Aethan said with a curious smile. "I thought you would be in Essos by now."
I grinned. "Really? You did not get any vision or try and see what I am doing?"
Aethan scoffed. "Unlike what you believe, my world does not revolve around you, Daemon. I have other important things to do, like rule the Neck."
I just smirked. "Is this the way you greet your Prince of the Realm and future king, Lord Reed? Maybe I should punish you for your arrogance."
I grinned as I saw the normally calm and serious Aethan lose his composure entirely and almost forget to breathe at the surprise.
"What the fuck, Daemon? How in the name of the Old Gods did you become the heir when you just kidnapped and married the king's daughter?" Aethan yelled in exasperation.
The entire time as I explained what happened, my grin never vanished.
".... So, Aethan Reed, will you be my Master of Whisperers?" I finished my explanation with the question that I came to ask.
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Winterfell
Morghul flew above the castle and its grounds, and I watched some of the people scrambling with a grin. There was no panic at the sudden appearance and roar of a huge dragon like Morghul. I had informed Cregan of my coming on a dragon, and Cregan had carefully prepared to avoid a panic among the people.
I made Morghul fly as low as possible so that the people could see me clearly. By the second pass, my aim was successful as I started hearing people cheering my various titles. Even the people who scrambled in primal fear at the roar of the dragon stopped as they finally understood it was me on top of the dragon.
I smiled in pride, as this level of belief and admiration toward me was what was needed for the future. I wondered whether I could ever be able to cultivate this level of admiration and respect toward me from the southern people.
I shook my head, clearing that negative thought.
I landed Morghul outside the gates so that every single person inside could see me clearly as I walked in after dismounting from the dragon.
==============================
Viserra looked at me with clear jealousy as I sat across from them. Seeing me riding a dragon, something denied to her until now, had clearly stirred some long-repressed feelings.
"Daemon, this is truly a surprise," Viserra said hesitantly. "Flaunting the taming of a dragon like this, after what you did with Gael, will surely anger the old man. You've never burned bridges like this before."
Cregan looked worried for a moment, but his faith in me brushed past his concern.
I just smirked. "Well, well, you are far behind the times, my dear cousin and his wife," I mocked playfully. "Let me tell you what happened in the last few days, and how it changed the world."
"............."
I could feel their shock and awe, and it would be a blatant lie if I claimed I didn't enjoy it.
"Congratulations are in order, my prince," Cregan said as he stood from his chair and, for the first time, gave me the courtesy owed to a prince of the realm.
"Thank you, Cregan," I said with a smile.
Cregan sat back down, still looking at me curiously. "I am still wondering—why did you inform me to choose the most skilled and trustworthy fifteen among your bastard children? You are married now. What need have you of bastards?"
"King's Landing is a snake pit, Cregan. I need good northern men to secure my assets and my plans, and who better for that than my own blood and flesh? The men here are utterly loyal to you and me. I need men like that before I can establish such loyalty in King's Landing. Being my children, trained by men who benefited from my teachings, they will be fierce fighters. I need that now, since we will be outnumbered for the time being. The fifteen will also escort some men and women who wish to follow me. Also—have you sent the message to Lord Umber?" I asked.
The warmth and smile vanished from Cregan's face, replaced by the mask of Lord Stark.
"I have sent a raven to Lord Umber, summoning your bastard boy. But Daemon, do you truly want to drag your children into that cesspit for your selfish needs, after ignoring them their entire lives? Do you think I don't care for them? I had their families brought here to live under my protection, not because I sought to collect power," Cregan snapped at me.
I remained silent, curious to hear where this would lead.
"Daemon, I care for them as they are my nephews and nieces. I will not sacrifice them to your selfishness, especially when you have not even explained to them who their father is. Many suspect the truth, many believe it, but there has been no official acknowledgment—neither from House Stark nor from you. It would be utter foolishness to take them to King's Landing, where they would see the love and care you give to your Targaryen children while they received nothing."
I sighed, weary, as Cregan's words struck true. He had made excellent points.
"Do not worry, Cregan. I was not planning to conceal the truth of their parentage. I am thankful that you care for them so deeply. I will reveal the truth to them at the same time. Gather them in the godswood, and I will give them the choice—to come south in search of greater prospects, or remain here in Winterfell, where their talents would not be as exceptional."
Cregan nodded and went to arrange the meeting.
"So, heir Daemon, I wish to petition for your permission for my four children to claim dragons," Viserra said once Cregan left.
She had remained a silent observer until now, listening to my explanations. My immediate instinct was to deny her, but then I hesitated.
"I will consider it, and I will allow it only if all your children are fostered with me for at least two years, so that I may teach them myself," I replied after some thought. "Also—why did you not petition for yourself, aunt? Don't you want a dragon for yourself?"
Viserra just shrugged. "I am not so young that I crave adventure and thrill. There are not enough dragons, and I would not wish to take the chance away from my children."
I was surprised that Viserra could make such a sacrifice.
==============================
Godswood
Later
Benjen Snow
Benjen Snow looked around the sacred Stark godswood and wondered why someone like him—and the others gathered here—had been summoned. Everyone knew this godswood was reserved for the noble family, yet here he stood. He was the eldest of the boys at sixteen, while the youngest, Bennard, was barely thirteen.
Benjen could guess why they had all been called. He had long suspected he was a Stark bastard. Ever since he lost his mother at the age of six and had been brought to Winterfell by one of Lord Stark's men-at-arms, the thought had lingered. Another clue was the direwolf of Lord Stark—Winter—who behaved with unusual friendliness toward certain boys and girls in Winterfell and Wintertown. There were even whispers among the children that they were all sired by the God-Blessed Daemon Snow, the bastard prince of the North.
Benjen's suspicions only deepened because of his own peculiar abilities. He did not feel the cold. He learned faster than most and was stronger and swifter than boys his age. His body was tougher as well—he had once survived a mugging, killing his attacker even with a knife stuck in his belly, a wound that healed in a single week. At first, Benjen had been arrogant about his talents, until younger bastards began arriving at Ser Cassel's training yard. They were simply better, and Benjen felt a strange kinship with many of them.
Humbled by defeats at their hands, and after witnessing the talents of Lord Stark and Lady Lyanna, Benjen had grown grateful for the personal lessons Lyanna herself had given him, lessons that improved him dramatically. He had long harbored a secret admiration for the beautiful lady, though he knew his place and kept their relationship perfectly platonic. Still, he feared she had noticed his feelings, for she had begun to tease him more often before being sent away by Lord Stark on a secret mission after the dragon prince's second arrival.
And now, the Blessed Red Death had returned—on a dragon. Benjen knew enough to fear what that might mean. The Dragon King would not take kindly to a bastard grandson possessing a dragon of his own. Yet, strangely, Benjen had felt no fear when the beast flew over Winterfell upon its arrival.
His thoughts were broken when everyone bowed, as tradition demanded, with the entrance of Lord Stark into the godswood—Daemon Snow at his side.
Benjen's eyes widened in sheer surprise. He felt awe, respect, and even a sliver of fear at the presence of the God-Blessed. The one violet eye darkened almost to black, brimming with leashed power, and Benjen understood then why the people of Winterfell and beyond believed so deeply in the tales of Daemon Snow. No ordinary man would have such effect on people around him by just walking in.
Silence blanketed the clearing until Benjen, feeling responsible since he is the eldest here, spoke first. "My lord, we are here as your men commanded." He heard a few of the boys sigh in relief that he had taken the initiative.
"Relax, everyone. You are not in any trouble. I summoned you because of Daemon here," Lord Cregan said with a smile to calm the group.
Benjen noticed Daemon hesitate for a heartbeat before his gaze swept over each boy present.
"As you all know, I am Daemon Snow, cousin to Lord Cregan. A few days ago, I married Princess Gael, and I have been legitimized as Prince Daemon Targaryen by the Old King—declared heir to the Iron Throne."
Benjen, along with several others, gasped. No bastard had ever been raised to heir while trueborn children still lived. The prince continued.
"This has not been declared openly, and only a few know it for now. I expect you all to keep this to yourselves."
"Aye, my prince," Benjen said, echoed by the others.
"Now, to the matter most important to you. I gathered you here to ask whether you would come to King's Landing and serve me directly. But before you decide, you must know one thing. All fifteen of you are half-brothers—you are all my sons. I am your biological father," Prince Daemon said.
"What?!" several boys shouted in shock. Benjen stayed silent, his thoughts racing to process what he had just heard.
"How can you be my father? I already have a father!" one of the younger boy snapped in anger, speaking without thinking.
Benjen nearly facepalmed. At least it was entertaining to watch his father—Daemon—look utterly dumbfounded at the outburst.
"Well, some smallfolk were eager to follow the custom of First Night, especially if the 'hero' blessing them was me. Believe me, son, it surprised me too when clever peasants came asking me to claim the right. They had heard of my other children and knew I always provided for them, so they wanted the same. You were born of such a night," Daemon said with a shrug.
The boy who had shouted turned red with embarrassment and muttered curses under his breath.
"Anyway," Daemon went on, "you have plenty of time to decide. In King's Landing you will have greater opportunities, larger than any you might find here. You have until the Mountain arrives with Lord Umber. Aye—he too is one of my sons, born of Lord Umber's bastard daughter."
Benjen grimaced at that. In the years since Daemon had vanished from public sight, another had made a name for himself in the North for unmatched strength—"the Mountain," the Mammoth Rider. If he was coming, and if he accepted their father's offer, then Benjen knew his own chances of leading were finished. He looked at the carved face in the heart tree and prayed the Mountain would reject this glorious offer.
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Authors note: another chapter and still we didn't reach kingslanding. Next one definitely.
Anyway glad to name drop, the mountain, a character and plotline that hit me during last chapter thinking about daemon's various bastards and became an essential one for some plots to go through!!!
See u in chapter 46: The Great Game II
Read, commend and Recommend !!!!!!!!
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