SWNOVELXO Chapter 26: ADS 26
Disclaimer: This is a story based on ASOIAF Universe and all recognizable characters, plots belong to GRRM. I have no ownership to it.
Chapter 26: A Wolf in South.
90 AC
Kingslanding.
Cregan Stark looked at the bustling port as their ship, The Red Death, sailed toward its assigned docking area. The ship was directly under House Stark's control, though it was based in White Harbor for the time being. Lord Theomore Manderly and Aethan Reed were accompanying him on this journey to King's Landing.
Typically, when a new Lord Paramount is sworn in, they appear before the Iron Throne to pledge fealty to their liege—except for the North. Usually, it was a representative from House Manderly who swore fealty on behalf of the Lord Stark, with a message sent via raven to formalize the pledge. But this time, King Jaehaerys had sent a royal summons, commanding Cregan Stark to King's Landing to swear his allegiance in person and to discuss various matters.
Daemon, who had been settling in at Winterfell with him after the armies and lords had dispersed, had been surprised by the king's decision to honor the Pact of Ice and Fire so fastly. Cregan, however, was skeptical. He doubted Daemon's interpretation, believing the king's invitation was about a future arrangement—perhaps a marriage alliance for one of his future daughters that will marry one the kings grandsons. After all, giving a daughter to a Lord Paramount, whose future children might eventually rule, was far riskier than marrying a daughter off to a lesser lord with heirs aplenty.
He still remembers the conversation they had in the Lord's solar.
"I don't see the king offering a daughters hand to me. daemon. It may be that the king want to negotiate for future generation. It would be too dangerous as a daughter could claim a dragon just like Princess Alyssa and even our children may have the ability to bond with dragons". Cregan said.
Daemon nodded. "Don't bother guessing. I assure you, if you marry Viserra, your children will have the capability to bond with dragons. They will be just like me and will have an even better bond with their dragons due to our warging abilities. That is the reason you are being summoned. Viserra is not betrothed to anyone, despite many vying for her hand. After careful deliberation, it was the king who made the decision. He wants to ensure your loyalty never wavers from the Iron Throne and the rightful king. The king also seeks to curb my influence in the North by tying the North closer to the crown."
Cregan gaped at Daemon, realizing that he had spies in King's Landing.
"How? You have spies in King's Landing? How do you pay them? The money you hold with my house hasn't been touched by you at all!"
"Oh, Cregan, why would I need to pay myself?" Daemon smirked. "I can warg and use the weirwood tree there to scry with my greenseeing whenever I wish. And honestly, I'm a little jealous of you—you get to marry a beauty like Viserra."
Cregan blushed, still a boy in matters of romance. He had never ventured to brothels or indulged in the many offers presented to him.
"I still don't understand why you stopped me from becoming a greenseer. Anyway, tell me about Viserra. Will she be a headache for me?" Cregan asked seriously as he wished to have a good marriage and be a Lord Stark that will make his grandfather proud.
"I have told you, cregan, only one powerful greenseer at a time and the risk is too high with no additional benefits. Anyway, I have the perfect plan to make you the most eligible bachelor in Westeros infront of her—well, apart from me." Daemon grinned mischievously. "You should order Lord Theomore to accompany you, no matter what. Say you need his expertise or something along those lines."
Cregan raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"What do you mean?", cregan asked incredulously
"Well, let this be a test to your observational abilities and not be blinded by the beauty of Viserra. If you become enraptured my aunt will eat you alive. You are yet a boy in the matters of women using their viles to get what they want. You must atleast visit the brothel once to atleast make sure that you could put the cold Stark mask even when you are surrounded by seduction incarnates. You will do this in wintertown and when you reach white harbour. I don't care whether you fuck or not, but you must desensitize yourself."
And densinsitize, he did, very thoroughly.
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Cregan was shaken from his thoughts by Lord Theomore.
"My lord, I still cannot believe the direwolves are back in House Stark's hands after centuries," Lord Theomore said, glancing at Winter.
The direwolf was far smaller than the monstrous Fenrir, but Winter was already nearly shoulder-height to a grown man. Theomore noted the direwolf's unease about the journey by sea, though the creature looked calm and placid. Still, he had not forgotten how both direwolves had torn a traitor in two when Cregan was threatened.
Cregan smiled and rubbed the direwolf's head.
"For that, I am thankful to Daemon. He ventured beyond the Wall and even risked leaving the army to find these pups for us," Aethan said, speaking from Cregan's other side.
"Lord Reed, I'm happy that at least you ventured beyond the Neck, unlike your father," Lord Manderly remarked.
Aethan merely smiled. "Yes, my fostering with Lord Stark made it possible."
As the ship docked at the port, they were hailed by one of the port officers. Sailing for mere travel was costly, but they carried trade goods to offset the expense.
Cregan remained silent as the ship's captain explained their cargo. The officer jotted something down, and the formality was complete.
"My lord, let us disembark and head to the city," Aethan said. "The captain will handle the rest. We're not needed here."
Lord Manderly nodded in agreement, and Cregan followed. As they stepped onto the pier, Winter leaped down with them.
The appearance of the direwolf caused a commotion. Someone screamed in fright, and a group of port guards approached briskly, their hands resting on their half-unsheathed swords.
Before Cregan could use his lordly voice to restore order, another voice shouted over the chaos.
"Enough of this commotion! It's just Lord Stark, a guest of His Grace the King."
Cregan turned to see a man in pristine armor with a flowing white cloak—a Kingsguard. The man was flanked by ten guards and quickly recognized as Ser Ryam Redwyne.
Cregan and his retinue approached, stopping a few paces away from the Kingsguard.
"Lord Stark, welcome to King's Landing," Ser Ryam greeted him. "I am Ser Ryam Redwyne, sent by His Grace to escort you and your retinue to the Red Keep. Rooms have been prepared for you and five others. However, your men are not permitted to carry swords outside their quarters." Ser Ryam's gaze lingered on the hilt of Ice and the large direwolf.
"You are permitted to carry Ice, as ancestral swords are allowed. But I must ask—is the wolf tame?"
Cregan regarded him silently for a moment before snorting. "A direwolf is never truly tamed, Ser Ryam. It becomes our friend. Winter here is calm as long as no one threatens him or those he favors."
Ser Ryam's expression turned stern for a moment. "The wolf is permitted as long as you take responsibility for its actions. No one is to harm you or your companions, so the wolf is welcome as long as you—or someone who can command it—are present."
"Then only myself and Aethan Reed can manage Winter," Cregan replied. "If the wolf is not with me, he will be with my dear friend Aethan here."
Ser Ryam nodded. "Then let us not delay. The royal family awaits you. You are to be presented before the Iron Throne for the swearing-in ceremony at noon. You have limited time to prepare. Your men can carry your belongings, and servants at the Red Keep will assist you."
Cregan nodded and followed as they proceeded toward the city.
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Viserra Targaryen
She didn't know whether to cry or laugh at her situation. She and the entire royal family, along with the court, were assembled at the Iron Throne for the Stark to swear fealty. She hadn't seen her future betrothed up close till now, even when they were escorted in to the Red Keep. The presence of a rather huge wolf made her ignore everything else when she spied upon them at that time.
She was nineteen years old and yet had never experienced true freedom. Her father, in his paranoia, had banned any of his daughters from claiming a dragon. Oh, she knew there was no blatant order to that effect, but the ways her family stopped her, Saera, and even Gael from meeting any unclaimed dragons were evidence enough. Saera had even attempted to claim a dragon before her banishment to the Faith and eventual escape to Lys, but that too had been thwarted.
What truly made her hate her parents was the hypocrisy of allowing Rhaenys to claim a dragon before her marriage to Viserys. Rhaenys had claimed Meleys last year, and Viserra knew that neither Viserys nor Daemon was pleased about losing the chance to claim their mother's dragon. Only Baleon their father allowing Rhaneys to claim Meleys, by bending over to Aemon's words as usual, stopped them from throwing a tantrum Viserra knew the deep friendship between Viserys and Rhaenys had strained because of it, and if some careful words from their "loving aunt" had needled them, it was only for their own good.
Viserra knew the king only permitted Rhaenys to claim the dragon because she was the heir to Crown Prince Aemon and because of the influence of both Aemon and Baelon. Her father, who had once threatened his sons with Balerion for disagreeing with him, had grown calmer and weaker in his old age. His apparent will to enforce his aims on House Targaryen as a whole had diminished. This was evident from their last conversation—the last one she considered ever having with her father. She had decided she had lost him after that because he had enforced his will upon her like a King and only a King.
One year ago…
"Why, Father? What makes Rhaenys so special that you allowed her a dragon? Why not me?"
Her father looked tired, but the disappointment in his expression was evident.
"Why, you ask? Rhaenys is my heir's heiress. She needs a dragon to rule as the queen of this kingdom, not as a puppet to her husband, even if he is a son of House Targaryen. Rhaenys has a blessed bastard brother who has been strengthening one of the largest kingdoms for decades. Only an experienced dragonrider as Queen would make him reconsider ever attempting to claim the throne, if the desire strike him later. Why allow a weakness when we can ensure our strength?"
Viserra was surprised by the thoughtfulness of the King and his legacy.
"And it is not my fault that you failed to impress your brothers—or even Viserys, for that matter—enough to allow you to marry into House Targaryen and thus claim a dragon. You are to be married to Lord Cregan Stark. The Starks are Daemon's only support, and I must sever that bond. That will ensure that no Lords from the past North will think of making Daemon a king, even if my grandson is not interested."
Viserra gaped at her father. This was something she had never considered and then she was angry.
"Father, what are you talking about? Who in their right mind would support a bastard over the legitimate heirs? The North is distant, and even they are not foolish enough to fight the entire South in addition to dragonriders. Daemon has not even ventured a day in the South, and you fear his shadow, sacrificing my happiness and my rights? This is not Maegor Targaryen with Balerion!"
She snarled in anger but immediately froze upon uttering the hated name in front of the king.
She fearfully looked at her father, expecting cruel words or punishment. Instead, she was surprised when the king, for once, did not look ready to burn anyone with Vermithor for merely mentioning Maegor's name.
"You are absolutely correct, my daughter," the king said, and she wondered why she felt as though he was proud of her. "For all your airheadness and the games you play with weak men, there is some cunning in you. I am sacrificing your happiness and rights for the good of our house. I am glad you recognize that.
And no, Daemon Snow is not Maegor with Balerion. If he were, I would feel reassured, as we would know exactly what he is capable of. But now, I have no idea what abilities my grandson possesses or how to defend against him if he chooses violence. I truly considered legitimizing him and marrying him to Rhaenys to end all these worries, but the cost of that would outweigh the benefits. So here I am, yet again, sacrificing one of my children for the good of the house."
Viserra just snorted at the apparent reason spouted by the king.
"What cost and benefit? You're just prideful that the child you abandoned is becoming important enough for you to want him back. You're afraid of the future of our house deviating from the path you designed through Aemon and Baelon. Daemon is unpredictable and not under the influence of our house or our lessons."
"Well, well, now I'm really impressed by you, Viserra," her father said with mirth. "You've spent much time pondering this during your house arrest for attempting to seduce Baelon."
"Aye, many such thoughts crossed my mind," Viserra retorted.
"Daughter, for your sacrifice and in recognition of your cunning, I will acknowledge your children as princes and princesses of the realm," the king said.
Viserra was confused. "I thought any children and grandchildren of the king were princes and princesses."
"No," the king replied with a smile. "Only the male line has that right. Any female who marries outside retains her birth title, but her children are only Lords or Ladies."
Viserra looked thoughtful for a moment. She didn't know why she asked the next question or why it included that particular name. Perhaps it was because Rhaenys had been giggling about the Sea Snake's accomplishments that morning. Or perhaps it was fate.
"So, for example, if Rhaenys married outside the family—say to Corlys Velaryon—then their children would be Lords and Ladies unless Rhaenys became queen or the king acknowledged them as princes and princesses. Is that correct, Father?"
The moment she finished her question, she realized her mistake. The king's gentle smile vanished, replaced by a cold, rage-filled expression. His eyes glinted with fury and even a hint of madness. This was the reaction she expected when she mentioned her cursed grand uncle Maegor not for this trivial question.
"Viserra, you are dismissed. You will inform me of any such plans involving my sons or even Rhaenys. Do you understand?"
The tone was harsh, unlike any before, and she could only accept the order and flee from the solar.
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That conversation had happened over a year ago, and Viserra had spent much time pondering what had made her father so angry. Shameful as it was to admit, it took a spy from her mother's side—her little sister Gael—to tell her about their mothers' complaints about their father's apparent dislike of the Sea Snake.
Viserra was glad she finally understood it, and now she could have her own form of revenge on Rhaenys, the king, and her foolish elder brothers. Rhaenys had a crush on the handsome older man, and Viserra had used every opportunity to turn that small crush into a deep infatuation.
Rhaenys had Aemon in her grasp, and Viserra knew that the naïve Aemon would ensure Rhaenys could marry whomever she desired. The fact that the Baratheons and Velaryons were also related to her through their shared grandmother, Alyssa Velaryon, only worked in her favor. The best part? She would be out of the capital when it all finally happened, entirely blameless in the scheme.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the herald called out names as they entered.
Viserra's anger at her parents surged when she saw Theomore Manderly for the first time.
Her mother dared to marry her off to this fat, ugly, old man? She glared at her mother, who looked genuinely surprised at the appearance of her old friend. Her mother must have felt the weight of her glare, as guilt flickered across her face for a moment before vanishing.
Only the herald's loud announcement of "Cregan Stark and his wolf, Winter" pulled Viserra's attention away.
The first thing that struck her was that this was no boy—it was a man. There was nothing boyish about the fully grown figure standing tall before her. His posture radiated confidence, bordering on arrogance, a silent declaration of his strength.
Her gaze traveled to the massive wolf beside him, and she froze. The wolf's piercing eyes were locked on her, almost as though it understood her every thought. There was an intelligence in the beast's gaze that she had seen only in dragons.
As Cregan approached the throne, Viserra was finally able to get a clearer look at him, and she couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as the swearing-in ceremony began.
At least he was comely,—perhaps even handsome, in his own way and more importantly, younger than her, allowing her to wrap him around her desires. Maybe being the princess of Winterfell will be better than being cooped as wife of Baelon or any other Targaryen without any personal power or choice. No one would be above her station in the North and only the Lord of Winterfell have any perceived power to order her around. The jealous Lords in the court whispered that the Starks are still King in all but name in the North and may be being a Queen in all but name will be what she needed.
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Cregan Stark
Cregan sat in the king's hall with Lord Manderly. We had both been invited by the king for a meeting.
Cregan knew the purpose of the gathering was to discuss the betrothal, and he knew there was no escaping it, even though he had no desire for escaping it. Viserra was the most beautiful lady he had ever seen. Even Winter couldn't sense any trouble from her.
The king, Princes Aemon and Baelon, along with the queen sitting in the table opposite him.
"Lord Stark, I assume you have an idea of why you were summoned to King's Landing," Prince Baelon said.
Cregan was surprised it was Baelon who started the dialogue when all others were elder in age and position. He also noticed the slight nod from the king, signalling that the discussion should begin.
"I will be honest, my prince," Cregan said. "I never thought I would be considered to fulfill our pact. In fact, it was Daemon who correctly guessed that I would fulfill it, and that I was being considered for Princess Viserra's hand. And, as usual, he was right." He said this pointedly, observing their reactions. He missed Winter's presence, as the warg bond would help him truly understand their feelings. But there was no way the king would accept a dangerous wolf in such an enclosed space.
The king looked indifferent, but it was Aemon and the queen who reacted the most—Aemon with interest and the queen with a slight frown and a glare at him.
"It seems the tales of my grandson's talents have not been exaggerated," the king said. "I wonder how he knew of the events unfolding here?"
"I too wonder the same, Your Grace," Cregan replied cooly.
"I see," the king said. "And how is my grandson faring? Has he settled down with a wife? I've heard you've been using him for so long, even declaring him heir until you have children."
Cregan nodded. "Aye, Your Grace. There is no one else with enough Stark blood, and I know he will make a fantastic ruler, should that time come. Daemon, however, will not settle down. He is a free spirit, sowing his wild oats. He likes to travel, and staying in one place bores him now."
The queen snorted in derision. "No wonder. Bastards are, after all, lustful beings. Lord Stark, I wonder whether you've ever considered that Daemon might want your position. He's quite near being in the position of a powerful lord of the realm, and you've even declared him heir. It would only take an accident to make it so. When he was born and was a minor, so many were in line for the position of Lord of Winterfell, and look at his position now."
Cregan noticed Prince Aemon's face contorting with rage, but a hand from Prince Baelon silenced him. The king looked tired but intrigued by how Cregan would respond. However, it was Lord Manderly's reaction that surprised him.
Manderly looked at the queen as though seeing her for the first time, bewildered, before anger appeared on his face quickly morphing into indifference.
"Ah, well, I'm grateful for your concern, Your Grace," Cregan replied pointedly. "But I know your grandson better than all, except maybe Aethan Reed. He doesn't thirst after the North or any lordship for that matter. He doesn't want to be tied down to any one place, and he has higher callings. Also, my queen, it is not in our hands whether we live or die. It was the time for my grandfather and father, but it was betrayal that caused my uncle's line to lose their position. I also don't know if you've realized this, but it's the same number of relevant people ahead of him in his paternal line as well."
Manderly looked momentarily afraid at the sheer gall of his liege lord.
"Are you threatening my house, Lord Stark?" Alysanne asked, her voice tinged with barely hidden anger. "And you've somehow mistaken the numbers. My daughters Visserra and Gael are there too."
"Of course not, my queen," Cregan said calmly. "I'm merely pointing out the similarities between our houses and how the Old Gods could curse us at any point. I didn't include your youngest daughters. I don't think I'd want to leave the North and my home to become king consort if such an unfortunate event were to come to pass. And I've heard the hateful rumors about Princess Gael that have been spread. No lords from the South will support her unless they marry her and usurp her authority. Should the Princess Gael finds in such an unfortunate position being the sole member alive, the only one with Targaryen blood capable of reigning and silencing all those ambitious lords is my brother. Even then, I sincerely pray that such a moment never comes to pass, as he will hate it with all his heart."
"Such pessimistic words from a young mind," the king interjected before anyone could say anything further. "My queen, I'm sure our grandson will not do anything dishonourable, and such a wise man as Cregan would discover any deceit you fear. Lord Stark, I would caution you to use your words carefully. You came close to speaking treason. Still, I understand where those words came from. We both suffered the deaths of our beloved family at a young age, and now betrayal from someone who should support and love us with all their heart."
"Aye, my king," Cregan said, bowing his head. "I apologize to you and to my queen for my words. It's difficult to swallow the disparagement against someone who taught me so much and supported me so much, even if it was my queen and the grandmother of the person in question."
Queen Alysanne remained silent, merely nodding.
"Baelon," the king said, turning to his son, "I see how you granted two great boons to Lord Stark when you went to procure a cure for my grandson. Also, Lord Stark, isn't it presumptuous of you to consider yourself the groom for my dear daughter even before the offer is made? I could change my mind at any point, and no one would find dishonor in it. It's just rumors—no one, not even the small council, knows the truth. So tell me, why should you be honored to have my daughter as your wife?"
Cregan looked thoughtful for a moment before answering.
"Your Grace, it's true that it was presumptuous of me to say so. It was just my own reckless thoughts and desires since seeing the lovely princess. There's no shame for House Stark in a broken betrothal, as it's not known to anyone. It is your order, my king, that I will follow. But as I told Prince Baelon all those years ago, House Stark is the most apt choice for Princess Viserra's hand—unless, of course, Prince Baelon suddenly wishes to remarry. I am a proven warrior, and any threats to our position have been handled in the last three wars in the North. His grace's grandson will be the Lord of Winterfell and the future Warden, loyal to his cousin sitting on the Iron Throne. More than that, his grace wishes to honor the Pact between our houses."
King jaeaherys scrutnised cregan for some time before speaking.
"At least you're more observant and clever than some foolish petitions for her hand I've heard about," the king murmured. "Lord Stark, let us begin the discussion. The marriage should be held in two moons' time in King's Landing, and I'm sure that's enough time for you to court my daughter. We can discuss dowry and other details later."
Cregan hesitated for a moment before sighing.
"Your Grace, I am ready to marry in two moons' time, but I wish to marry in the Godswood, and my brother Daemon to officiate the ceremony. The northern lords would be angered if I married in a sept, as it would give credence to my traitorous uncle's words. Please allow me to send a raven to Winterfell to tell him to come here with your permission of course."
"No," the king said sternly.
"Your Grace?" Cregan asked hesitantly.
"My grandson is banished from the South, and I will not revoke that order now," the king replied. "I'm sure Lord Manderly or Lord Reed could officiate the marriage."
"My king, it's not about the knowledge of officiating," Cregan said earnestly. "I want Daemon to be there. He is the closest thing I have to a father figure now, and I don't want to marry without him being present."
the queen scoffed at that and asked,
"You would reject the hand of a princess, my beautiful Viserra, and the order of your king, along with the boons of marrying royalty, for a bastard?"
"Aye, I would gladly reject the beauty and the boons for my brother, Your Grace," Cregan replied. "But never an order from my king. But this is not an order from my king. If it were, please make it so, my king, and I will follow it." Cregan said, looking at the king. There was no emotion in his face, and Aemon could see the cold Stark mask.
Even without any outward expression of anger or sadness, everyone understood that the order would be followed without question, but it would be remembered forever.
"No, it's not an order. This is a discussion, not a command from me," the king said. "You raise some valid points, the northern lords are indeed prickly. Why make a problem when they are so eager to follow you now?" The king sighed. "The realm wants to celebrate the marriage of the princess, and they would be happy to come to King's Landing. Ignoring them is not something I'm willing to do. So, tell me, Lord Stark, what would you suggest to overcome this?"
Cregan knew the king already had a solution and was testing him.
"My king, our marriage could be held at Winterfell, and all the northern lords would gladly participate. The realm may not like traveling there, but there's no need for that, as Princess Visserra is not Princess Rhaenys, and she's not third in line to the Iron Throne. A celebratory tourney can be held here, announcing our betrothal to the realm. The realm can participate, and House Targaryen can attend the marriage in Winterfell easily, as you are all dragonriders. This will also give me time to properly court the Princess."
The king looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding.
"Close to what I had in mind, Lord Stark. Let us continue the discussion and get it over with," the king said, sighing.
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2 days later.
Family Dinner hall.
Rhaenys Targaryen
She looked to her left, where her mother was sitting and overseeing the courses. It was a private family dinner gathering, with an addition of Cregan Stark. An unofficial way to introduce the royal family, as they were to be kin by marriage. Rhaenys noticed the calm mask her mother projected, but she could see the wariness and anger in her face. Jocelyn had tried to stop the coming betrothal, knowing Cregan would never go against Daemon, since Cregan had been influenced by the bastard since childhood. Rhaenys had even heard her mother complain that this was just a way of handing over Viserra to Daemon and he will influence her to his side.
Rhaenys had tried to defend her aunt. Viserra was the first one to congratulate her for claiming Meleys, even when the king denied herself a dragon. It was her aunt who had helped her immensely, introducing her to the Sea Snake and explaining that sometimes small fancies turn into infatuation and later into love. She had tried to see Viserys in that position, as her father wanted, but she could never see Viserys standing against the vultures to defend her claim the way the Sea Snake would if he had married her. It was the childhood impression of beating Daemon at even a single thing that sparked her small infatuation with the legendary Sea Snake. The stupid bards loved to sing about the Red Death, the development of the North by introducing grains and new techniques, and even god-blessed healing. There were almost a dozen catchy songs spread by the bards, and she wondered whether someone had spent a fortune making them sing it at every occasion.
Rhaenys looked at Lord Stark, who was handsome and a warrior to boot. She wondered whether her bastard brother would be similar. She had heard that Daemon's half-black, half-silver hair was famous, just like his heterochromatic eyes. She continued eating, still unsure whether to make Corlys her husband. She was undecided and still thinking over it.
She saw Viserys smiling as she talked with Cregan while they ate, and the general mood in the room was good. Cregan answered many questions from her father and uncle about the supposed rebellions and how they were handled. She didn't know whether Cregan's handling of the issues was good or not, but her father seemed impressed.
As the conversation between her father and Cregan came to a lull, her cousin Daemon decided to ask a question.
"So, where is the wolf? Has it killed anyone or is it just giant puppy without bite?" Daemon asked casually, and Rhaenys almost scolded her younger cousin for his lack of respect and aggressive tone.
Luckily, Rhaenys noticed her uncle keeping an eye on the conversation, and Cregan looked unbothered by the question, though he glanced at Daemon with curiosity.
"Aye, the wolf has killed many people. The last one was my uncle, when he tried to kill me from behind after surrendering. Though I can't take all the credit, it was Fenrir who finished him. But my prince, you didn't say your name? Are you the prince whose life was saved by my cure?" Cregan asked.
Rhaenys could feel a headache coming, knowing Daemon was already a wild child, and only his harsh training kept him from making trouble.
"Fenrir? There's another one?" Daemon said. "Also, no, I am not Aegon. I am Prince Daemon Targaryen."
"Ah! ha!" Cregan exclaimed with a smile. "The prince named after my brother, Daemon Snow. You have a hard legacy to live up to, my prince. I don't envy you."
Rhaneys could hear the silence as the entire conversation died around the table. Rhaneys knew that the only reason Daemon has not exploded because of the sheer shock.
Rhaenys could hear the silence as the entire conversation around the table died. She knew the only reason Daemon hadn't exploded was the sheer shock of it.
"What? I'm not named after some northern bastard and Who the fuck is this Daemon Snow?" Daemon yelled, hitting the table in anger. The utensils and food flew off the table, making a ruckus.
"Enough!" The king snapped, and Daemon immediately stopped yelling.
Everyone looked at Cregan and Daemon in surprise or blamed him for the outburst.
"I regret mentioning that, your grace. I didn't know that Prince Daemon was not aware of his elder cousin in the north."
Rhaenys could see that Cregan had a sheepish grin on his face, as if he hadn't meant to provoke Prince Daemon, but she understood it had been done deliberately.
Both Baelon and Aemon sighed, knowing it would take time before Daemon calmed down, and that there would be days of suffering from his yelling and temper tantrums. Rhaenys could see that daemon has noticed the lack of surprise on her and viserys face and there would be days full of headache for her in the future. Atleast she knows to escape it by going to Meleys and Corlys.
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Authors note: yeah no one wanted to infrom the kid rouge prince that the world believes he is namesake for aemon's bastard…. Well daemon is only 7-8 years and perfect age to throw a legendary temper tantrums….
for reading four chapters extra, search for black wolf in pat reon