Chapter 10: Daemon's Proposal
Daemon Targaryen rode Caraxes six times around King's Landing before finally returning to the Dragonpit atop Rhaenys' Hill.
The Dragonpit, the City Watch, the common folk, King Jaehaerys, Queen Alysanne, Prince Baelon of Dragonstone, and Prince Viserys all cheered for Daemon.
From Flea Bottom, hundreds of smallfolk had gathered to watch the prince's first flight, many of whom knew Daemon personally. They shouted his name with pride:
> "Lord of Flea Bottom!"
Princess Gael watched Daemon with bright, adoring eyes. She had seen her father and mother, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, soar through the skies on dragonback, but age had long since dimmed their vigor. Prince Baelon of Dragonstone often flew Vhagar over the city, yet he too was now middle-aged, lacking the grace and wildness of youth.
Daemon was different. At sixteen, he was bold and dashing—his silver hair streaming in the wind as Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm, shrieked across the heavens. To Gael, he seemed like one of the dragonlords from the ancient songs, returned to life.
When Caraxes landed, Daemon dismounted lightly and wrapped an arm around Gael's shoulders.
"Gael," he said proudly, "I am a dragonrider now. From today on, I can take you flying in the sky whenever you wish."
Gael smiled sweetly. "But you're still a novice, Daemon. What if you fall?"
"I won't," he said with a smirk. "I was born to be a dragon knight."
In his heart, Daemon hoped that one day he could marry Gael—and that she too would ride a dragon. The Dragonpit still held many young dragons, and he dreamed of seeing Gael ride Dreamfyre.
Dreamfyre had once belonged to Princess Rhaena, sister of King Jaehaerys—a fierce and noble creature, and most importantly, a female dragon who regularly laid eggs.
Prince Viserys, his plump frame quivering with excitement, embraced his younger brother warmly.
"Brother, I'm truly happy for you. You've become a dragonrider at last!"
Viserys had always been fond of Daemon. Years ago, Daemon had watched Viserys ride Balerion the Black Dread—but the mighty dragon had died soon after, and Viserys never mounted another since.
Daemon grinned. "Brother, the Black Dread has been dead for years. It's time you found a new dragon."
Viserys chuckled. "After riding Balerion, no other dragon can satisfy me. Besides, I've a wife and daughter now—my sweet Rhaenyra keeps me plenty busy."
Prince Baelon laughed and struck Daemon lightly on the chest.
"You were born for battle, lad. Now that you're a dragonrider, you'll serve the realm even better."
King Jaehaerys placed a hand on Daemon's shoulder.
"Daemon, riding a dragon marks a new stage in your life. But I want you to abandon your old bad habits—no more tavern brawls or reckless fighting."
Queen Alysanne stroked his silver hair.
"Before, you were merely a mischievous prince. Now that you command a dragon, you must control your temper. If you lose it while flying, many innocents might suffer."
Daemon laughed heartily. "From now on, I'll be as scholarly as Uncle Vaegon, as pious and charitable as Aunt Maegelle, and as kind and generous as my brother Viserys."
Maester Barth, the King's Hand, touched the chain of office on his chest and smiled wryly.
"Daemon, I watched you grow up—and I don't believe a word of that. But I do believe you'll learn restraint, and one day take up a man's responsibilities."
Among the crowd, all cheered Daemon's accomplishment—except for Princess Rhaenys and her husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake. They watched in silence, disappointment clouding their faces.
For years, Lord Corlys and Rhaenys had planned for their son, Laenor, to claim Caraxes—the dragon once ridden by Laenor's grandfather, Prince Aemon. It would have strengthened both their claim to royal blood and their house's influence. But Daemon had bonded with Caraxes first, ruining their hopes.
King Jaehaerys laid a hand on Daemon's back.
"Tell me, my boy—when you soared above King's Landing, what did you see?"
Daemon thought for a moment.
"I saw the Blackwater Rush—broad and glittering, yet from the sky it looked like a mere stream. I saw the King's Road and the Rose Road stretching far and straight, and the Kingswood beyond. I saw people walking in the streets like ants... and on Silk Street, the whores and their clients, also like ants—mating ones."
Laughter rippled through the gathered nobles.
Daemon went on. "I saw the Red Keep standing proud upon Aegon's High Hill, watching over the river. I saw the Dragonpit upon Rhaenys' Hill, its great dome shining golden-purple in the sunlight. But when I looked toward Visenya's Hill, I saw nothing—only weeds, tents, and the poor man's sept made of thatch."
King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne fell silent, pondering his words.
Daemon's voice grew serious.
"Your Grace, we should build a great sept upon Visenya's Hill. King's Landing is vast—hundreds of thousands live here. The people need a grand sept where they may worship the Seven."
He was right. The first sept in the city had been the Sept of Remembrance, built by Aegon the Conqueror in memory of his sister, Queen Rhaenys. But during the Faith Militant uprising in the reign of Maegor the Cruel, that sept had been seized by the Warrior's Sons and Poor Fellows. Maegor, riding Balerion, had burned it to the ground. The ashes were later cleared to make way for the Dragonpit—a costly project that had taken decades to complete.
Daemon gestured toward the hills.
"Aegon's High Hill holds the Red Keep and the Iron Throne—symbols of royal power. Rhaenys' Hill holds the Dragonpit—symbol of our bond with dragons and divine favor. If we build a Great Sept upon Visenya's Hill, we complete the trinity—royal power, draconic might, and faith united. It may even persuade the High Septon to move his seat to King's Landing."
Prince Baelon looked at him in surprise.
"Daemon, I never thought you capable of such city planning. Sometimes I truly wonder if you are my son."
King Jaehaerys smiled.
"Daemon's growth has exceeded all our expectations. Building a sept on Visenya's Hill is an excellent suggestion. We shall discuss it further in the Red Keep."
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Back in the Red Keep, Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys returned to their chambers near the Kitchen Keep. It had once been Rhaenys's own maiden's quarters when she lived at court.
Corlys muttered, "I always thought Daemon an unruly, unlearned boy. But now he speaks like a statesman."
Rhaenys nodded. "People change. Daemon has matured. He'll soon be knighted—and married. The King has chosen several noble daughters for him, yet it seems his heart belongs to Gael."
Corlys stared. "Gael? The King's youngest daughter? Many great lords have already sought her hand!"
Rhaenys smiled faintly. "Gael is gentle, innocent—much like her late sister Daella. The Queen would never send her far away, and I suspect Daemon knows that. If he presses his suit, he may well succeed."
Corlys frowned. "Baelon and his son Daemon both ride dragons. We are already at a disadvantage. If Daemon weds Gael, and she too takes a dragon, their line will be strong indeed—perhaps too strong for us to rival."
Rhaenys's gaze turned thoughtful. "Daemon's desire for Gael isn't just affection. He is ambitious—more so than his brother Viserys."
Corlys sighed. "A pity Laenor and Gael are so far apart in age. If they could wed, our bloodline would be bound more tightly to the throne."
Rhaenys smiled softly. "Laenor's age suits Rhaenyra better. I have a feeling their children will all be dragonriders."
Corlys was unconvinced. "Rhaenyra is still a child. Gael, though—she's nearly grown. Perhaps I should propose to the King that our nephew Daevon wed her. Daemon took the dragon meant for Laenor; we need not be courteous in return."
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