[Chapter Size: 2600 Words.]
Third Person POV.
King's Landing.
...
...
King's Landing soon began to organize itself as the day went on, its complete conquest having ended in the middle of the morning.
The people were clearly still afraid, watching in silence as the n of the North, the Stormlands, the Riverlands, even those of the Crownlands and the free folk walked through every street of the city, searching for hidden Lannisters and preventing people from committing cris or simply catching criminals in the act and taking them away for punishnt.
The people were still distrustful, mories from decades ago of Lannister n sacking the city, raping won, seed still fresh in the minds of many elderly people.
However, all the previous chaos had cald down. Announcents throughout the city inford that food was entering by wagons through another western gate of the city, with the northern gate destroyed by Winter the night before.
As the king had ordered, the Lannister army that had surrendered, along with the Gold Cloaks, the city guards raised by the Lannisters, were kept outside the city, placed in an open field, on their knees, with a large concentration of guards around them to prevent them from fleeing.
The lords and the most important people in command of the enemy forces were placed in the Black Cells, inside the Red Keep.
The nobles who had fled when Daemon entered the throne room returned, and each one had to swear an oath before the new king, while Daemon evaluated each of them. Even the servants Daemon had personally asked to see were called one by one, so that he could study them as they spoke of their duties.
He personally had to dismiss half of them from the Keep, since they were clearly loyal to the forr queen, placed there during the last years. Not that they could do anything — the Lannisters had lost, and the fear of dying would prevent any foolishness from these servants — but still, Daemon did not want to keep n loyal to the lions, much less reward them by allowing them to return to their duties as if nothing had happened.
He would not even keep the people he left in the Red Keep; with his governnt and family, he would place people he could trust, and they would clearly be people from the North.
In any case, things were going well.
Daemon was on the parapet of one of the highest floors of the main tower, what used to be the king's office, while Val was at his side, drinking wine and observing the city with Daemon. There was smoke in several parts of the city, but it was quiet.
Daemon wondered if they were afraid because of his recent activities in the city; after all, he had walked through the underworld of King's Landing, spread rumors about the council, turned into a werewolf and killed dozens of Gold Cloaks, even openly interfered in events, such as the murder of Robert Baratheon's bastard in the brothel and even the execution of Ned Stark.
The whole city should have a good impression of him, but here he was no longer a cause of chaos; he was the king, sitting on the Iron Throne that he had stolen from the last king, preventing anyone from sitting on it, while Daemon would be conquering.
Winter was still flying frequently around the area, no longer roaring, just trying to get used to the environnt.
Daemon had already made her land in the Dragonpit. She would remain there, with guards to prevent anyone from approaching while Daemon was still in the city. He certainly did not like leaving her there, but it was the only place with enough space.
Daemon also did not like the Dragonpit, finding it a cursed place... He did not forget how that place had been turned into ruins during the Dance of the Dragons, when a mob attacked the chained dragons.
Not that Winter had that problem, if any group wanted to do sothing foolish, after all there was a group of religious fanatics in King's Landing at the mont — even so, Winter would be sleeping on the surface of the pit, with the chance to fly if sothing happened. Daemon was watching this group, and he would have to deal with them when they spoke of his past actions, with many claiming he was an enemy of the Seven, an evil sorcerer.
Then, a knock on the door caught his attention.
"Yes?" Daemon said and it opened slightly.
Sandor Clegane, who was serving as a guard, announced: "Lord Stark and Lord Stannis are here." He said it in a tone that sounded more like a grumble than an announcent.
"Send them in," Daemon said, not caring about Sandor's mood, already used to it.
It was already early afternoon. He had given specific orders about the city and the Red Keep, especially to those two n, who were already accustod to King's Landing — one for having been Master of Ships, the other Hand of the King for at least a year.
"Your Majesty," said Lord Stark and Lord Baratheon.
Daemon only nodded. "How are things, my lords?"
"We have done everything Your Grace asked. The Red Keep is functioning, despite having half the servants. No duty is being neglected. They are managing, but we cannot keep many people in the castle." Lord Stannis said.
"Good, keep only the commanders and allied lords, as well as the court itself that was here when we arrived. For now, our n who will not be working as temporary city guards must remain outside the walls, in their tents. Just move our camp closer and keep the prisoners under watch," Daemon said. "But I do not think that is all, is it?"
He observed their faces and realized there was more. Stannis reached into his pocket and pulled out several sheets of parchnt. "We found this arriving this morning in the maester's rookery," he said, in a dry tone.
Daemon took the ssages and began to read one after another, as a smile appeared on his face.
"The Tyrell army is marching toward the Stormlands. They are going to gather at Storm's End along with rcenaries. The armies of Dorne are also approaching, with thirty thousand spears."
"Then they are betting high," Daemon murmured. Dorne was certainly sending most of its strength, gathered over the past moons. A move they must have thought long and hard about before making. They were betting on the Blackfyre pretender.
At the sa ti, the army of the Reach had between ninety and one hundred thousand n.
He might have finished with the Lannisters, but the next battle was already taking shape, with the intention of perhaps being the largest Westeros had ever seen. An unprecedented number of two hundred and sixty to three hundred thousand n in the field, fighting one another.
They could have one hundred and twenty to one hundred and thirty thousand n here, but a part of Daemon's army was still missing, marching from the West with Ygritte, Tormund, Lord Tallhart, Lord Glover and others. Soon, they would be joining King's Landing before the enemy army arrived. There would be at least one hundred and fifty thousand n on Daemon's side, while the enemy would have at least another one hundred and fifty thousand.
Not even the War of the Four Kings had gathered such strength.
It proved that the greatest war in the history of Westeros was still far from ending. Now they would see the largest number of n ever assembled on a battlefield.
And dragons.
The Lannisters had beco irrelevant, rely an obstacle between two new kings who possessed dragons.
Daemon laughed there by himself, surprising the three others in the room. In the end, the old lion who believed himself important had beco nothing more than a stone in the path of a much greater ga.
The Lannisters were irrelevant.
But sothing also made him reflect.
His birds had arrived days ago in Oldtown, but what he found was only the devastated city. The Greyjoy forces had already left the place. Which was strange.
And it was strange that he saw the so-called Blackfyre riding to catch up with the army of the Reach marching toward the Stormlands, along with Garlan and Loras Tyrell, accompanied by more than two thousand n of House Tyrell.
Perhaps Daemon had not paid much attention. Perhaps he only suspected that he had decided to honor his new allies or accompany his company. Still, it was hard to believe that that pompous Blackfyre, always eager to exalt his power and his lineage, deceiving everyone, would not be with his dragon.
And he seed quite shaken.
Daemon turned to the next ssage.
His eyes narrowed.
"The Targaryen lost his dragon. Euron Greyjoy tad it with so kind of magic in Oldtown."
"Is that possible?" Daemon murmured, fascinated.
The two lords before him imdiately realized it was sothing important. Those ssages ca from Tywin's spies, spread across the kingdoms, informing the old lion of everything that happened.
"He took the dragon..." Daemon began. "Hahaha... HAHAHAHA!" Daemon started to laugh, and soon he was laughing loudly.
"What is so funny?" Val asked, being the only one who could speak to the king like that.
"Well, let's just say our Blackfyre ended up losing his mount. That fool barely handles his dragons and lost the only one that accepted him as a rider. But this may also worry ," Daemon said, thoughtful at the end.
"What do you an by that?" Lord Stark asked, surprised.
Daemon looked at his uncle. "Euron Greyjoy used so kind of magical horn. From what the n who were in Oldtown witnessed, the dragon, which was burning the Greyjoy fleet, suddenly began to lose control in the air upon hearing a sound coming from Euron's main ship, falling in the distance. Then the horn sounded again, and the dragon threw off its own rider and followed to where Euron was with the instrunt. He tad it before the entire city, and burned a large part of the city to demonstrate his madness and conquest. I thought the Targaryen had gone mad, but in the end, it was not him who left part of the city in Ashes, even the Hightower itself was burned."
He paused to think about it for a mont, ignoring the stunned looks of those present. "Now the dragon is in Euron's possession. I wonder if I will be able to free it, whatever magic is bound to that thing... or if I will have to kill it." Daemon grew thoughtful.
The two n in the room shuddered even more. He spoke far too naturally about sparing or killing a dragon. He did not seem to intend to use Winter for that. It sounded like soone willing to settle it with his own hands.
And why wouldn't he?
After all, was he not the one who claid he used to eliminate winged, fire-spitting plagues in the world where he had stayed for twelve years?
"Well, it seems we will have to prepare for the next battle. The Blackfyre still has n, and now Euron has a dragon. But the Blackfyre still has two," Daemon concluded.
"The n will still be uncertain about this," Stannis murmured upon hearing that.
"I know there are houses here in the Crownlands that did not co to my cause. Houses that intended to raise the banner of that Blackfyre, using my brother's na," Daemon said, crossing his arms.
He then continued. "I will demand the loyalty of each of the lords to House Targaryen, in my na and in the na of my wife and my heir, whom she carries in her womb. If the lords refuse, very well, they may return ho. I will not stop them. But when the war ends, they will suffer the sanctions that the Crown will impose upon all those who were doubtful, or they will fare even worse for those who visibly raised the banner of a Blackfyre, after so many rebellions of that damned family over the last one hundred and twenty years."
"Perhaps it is the fifth or sixth Blackfyre revolt now, dressed with a Targaryen cloak in their surna," Stannis murmured.
But, unlike leaving any trace to arise through so woman who might have borne more children, Daemon was certain he could use Bran to track any other seed spread over the years across Essos. He would have the Crown keep eyes on them or even ensure that they could not father children and descendants, imprisoning them, as he did with the current prisoners.
It was cruel.
But Daemon needed to make a decision so that there would be no more wars in the future. Perhaps not sparing one life now could prevent thousands of deaths in another future, after all even Blackfyres could use dragons now.
"What else do you have for ?" Daemon asked, after both nodded regarding what had been proposed.
Most of the army would already be committed to him. Only a few were still uncertain, mainly in the Crownlands and perhaps in the Riverlands. It was a small fraction of the total, knowing that the free folk, the northerners, and the n of the Stormlands would stand with him.
"Lord Tywin has awakened. He is struggling not to scream in his current state, but, Daemon, torture is not sothing a king should do. He is still a lord of the Seven Kingdoms," said Ned Stark.
"Tell that to my sister and brother who were slaughtered like animals on his orders. He is only tasting the monster he created!" Daemon roared at his uncle, who still held that notion of honor.
"I know that. I am not saying he does not deserve it. However, I believe you are better than this, Daemon. The Seven Kingdoms will speak of this day. Of a king who kept a man screaming in the throne room. An act of cruelty. They may call you the new Aerys," Lord Stark said, despite his caution.
Even Val looked at him, worried.
"Honestly, I do not care about their opinions. But very well. Remove him from up there. Put him in a cell along with his family. Tomorrow, without fail, we will execute them one by one, in front of all King's Landing," Daemon said, as his uncle nodded.
"One more thing, Your Majesty," Stannis spoke this ti. "Precisely about the Blackfyre in the south. The rumors have already been spreading for many days, even before King's Landing fell. The n are hearing about it. They have questions. They are doubtful."
"Your n must not be very pleased to know that Storm's End was taken, are they, Lord Stannis?" Daemon sighed.
The man nodded, his face hardened.
"Storm's End is yours by right. Now it is being occupied by a Blackfyre," Daemon continued, pausing briefly.
"Tomorrow I will reveal the existence of the Blackfyre. Everything I know. And Bran will continue investigating; we will likely have more information in the coming days. In the official announcent tomorrow, I will declare to everyone the truth about the fool who is passing himself off as my brother. And I will also declare traitors all those who are supporting him. The Lannisters are a good example of what happens to traitors," Daemon said, his voice cutting through the air like steel.
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