Game of thrones: A storm is coming

The royal council sat in tense silence, the air thick with the weight of recent revelations. News had spread quickly through the corridors of the Red Keep after the banquet, leaving the council members uneasy and uncertain. Daeron's true identity had been revealed, and the implications were as clear as they were unsettling.

Lord Otto Hightower, ever the pragmatic and calculating figure, was the first to break the silence. His sharp eyes narrowed, and his voice, cold and deliberate, cut through the room like a blade.

"He is no prince," Otto declared. "Daeron Stone is a bastard, a mere pretender with ambitions that cannot be ignored. We cannot allow him to remain a threat. If he is Targaryen by blood, he must be treated as an enemy to the throne. His claim is one that must be extinguished before it gains any more traction."

The council members murmured in agreement, the tension escalating. The thought of another Targaryen claimant, even one with no immediate claim to the throne, was a dangerous proposition. His very existence threatened the fragile stability of the realm.

However, before anyone could respond, a quiet, almost regal voice interrupted.

"I have heard enough."

Viserys I Targaryen, who had been silently listening to the heated discussion, now stood, his expression weary but resolute. His pale, tired eyes held a quiet strength as he looked around the table, his gaze settling on Otto. The room fell into an uneasy silence as the king spoke with the authority that only he could wield.

"Daeron Penndragon is not a threat," Viserys continued, his voice firm and unwavering. "I have heard the last words said by my cousin Rhaenys as she introduced him. She declared that Daeron sacrificed his Targaryen name to prevent any unrest his existence might bring . He formed his own house and distanced himself from the politics of Westeros, choosing instead to carve his own path. A man who steps away from trying use the Targaryen name and takes the harder road, one free of titles and crowns, does not deserve our suspicion. On the contrary , from his actions in Essos, he deserves our respect."

The room was still, and the council members caught between disbelief and reluctant acknowledgment. The king's words carried the weight of fury but also a king's wisdom. Viserys' gaze swept over the table as he continued.

"Treat Daeron with the same respect you would give to a prince of the crown. His actions speak louder than any whispers or rumors that may follow him. If he has earned a place in this kingdom, it is not through manipulation but through sacrifice and determination. Let no man here forget that."

The weight of his command hung heavily in the air as the council members shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Otto opened his mouth to protest, but Viserys held up a hand, silencing him.

"This is my decision," the king declared. "And I will not entertain further debate on the matter."

With that, the room fell silent once more, the tension still palpable but now tempered with the king's firm stance.

Later that evening, as the sounds of the court faded away, Viserys sat with his wife, Queen Aemma, in their private chambers. The fire crackled softly in the hearth as they spoke in hushed tones.

"My love," Aemma said softly, placing a gentle hand on Visery's arm. "You did well today. I know the decision was not easy."

Viserys sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. "It was not. But Daeron's actions, as Rhaenys said, were not those of a man seeking power. He sacrificed much to keep peace, and I cannot ignore that."

Aemma gave a small smile, squeezing his arm. "Then follow your heart, Viserys. He is your blood, despite name or choice. But also let your wisdom guide you, so you don't wrongly trust someone."

Viserys nodded, though a wearyness lingered in his eyes.

The next morning, the royal family gathered for a private breakfast, and Rhaenyra, ever curious, was the first to speak up about Daeron. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of suspicion and intrigue.

"Father," she began cautiously, "there are rumors surrounding Daeron Penndragon. Some say he's been involved in schemes, using his influence in Pentos to… manipulate the ruling houses. Others claim he's building an army in the east. Surely you must be cautious. Can we really trust him?"

Viserys' face hardened at her words, and a rare fire flashed in his tired eyes. He held up a hand, silencing her before she could say more.

"Rhaenyra, enough," Viserys said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Do not judge Daeron based on rumors and hearsay. You know as well as I do that the common people view him differently than we do. He may be a bastard, but he has earned a reputation through his actions. His name may not carry the weight of the crown, but his deeds and his choices have made him accepted as their prince. And in many ways, perhaps farther than your own."

Rhaenyra flinched, her lips parting in surprise, but Viserys did not relent.

"I will not have you pass judgment on him from a place of privilege or suspicion. Daeron has acted with restraint and honor, and I expect you to give him the respect he deserves, not as a threat but as a man who has proven himself. I'm not forcing you to acknowledge him as your uncle, despite the blood connection, but be civil."

For a long moment, the room was silent. Rhaenyra's face flushed, and her sharp tongue silenced for once. Viserys' eyes softened as he looked at his daughter, his voice a little gentler now.

"I know you are concerned, but remember that not everything is as it seems. The world is not shaped by the titles we carry but by the choices we make."

Rhaenyra nodded reluctantly, though the flicker of skepticism still remained in her gaze.

As the conversation drew to a close, Viserys allowed himself a moment of reflection. The revelation of Daeron's true identity had shaken the foundations of the royal family, but perhaps it was a test. One that could either break them or bind them closer together in the face of the challenges to come.

With a sigh, Viserys turned his thoughts back to his distant cousin and the path he would now walk—one that could very well change the course of history.

Meanwhile , in an underground chamber in Essos

The Shadow Council gathered in the dimly lit chamber, the walls thick with the weight of secrecy and whispered plots. The room hummed with tension, as each member weighed the revelation of Daeron Penndragon's true identity. The banquet had been but the beginning; now the implications of his existence rippled through Essos like the distant thunder of an approaching storm.

The volantese Noble named Craghis started the meeting. His fingers drummed slowly on the table, a sign of his discomfort. "So the boy is Aemon Targaryen's son," he said, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and wariness. "Daeron Penndragon, he has become a headache, but also has presented an opportunity. A Targaryen with no throne—he could become a symbol, a beacon for those who seek to challenge the Iron Throne."

The shrewd Tyroshi noble named Roland, leaned in, his sharp eyes glinting. "Indeed, but what if he is not the threat we imagine? He has already distanced himself from Westeros, rejecting the Targaryen name to avoid trouble. A man like that—one who chooses not to fight for a crown—can he be bent to our will ?

If he is as detached as he seems, we could use him to our advantage. We could turn his bloodline into a weapon, not against us, but against those who still hold power in the Seven Kingdoms."

The silent Lyseni noble Argos, interjected smoothly. "A tool, yes, but a dangerous one. His ambition cannot be underestimated. He may act out of a desire to avoid conflict, but his very existence could spark a war, especially if others learn of his claim. We cannot simply ignore the fact that he has a right to the throne, however distant. He could rally the people, especially in the east."

 "We cannot kill him outright," Craghis said, his voice now more thoughtful. "That would create martyrs. He already has a reputation among the common folk in Essos, and if he's truly distancing himself from Westeros, he could become a beacon for rebellion. He is useful, at least for now."

 "Then we use him," Argos suggested. "If Daeron is indeed disillusioned with his own bloodline, we could offer him an alliance. Make him believe we can help him build power, that we have the means to help him carve out a place for himself in the world. We can offer him resources, an army, influence. In return, he becomes a useful tool to further our aims against the Targaryens."

The female noble, Ariana from Bravoos looked pensive, rubbing her chin as she considered the suggestion. "Perhaps... But I am not so sure Daeron is as easily manipulated. He's already proven himself capable of making his own decisions, of carving his own path without relying on others. If we offer him power, we must ensure he understands that we hold the leash. One false move, and we take what we gave him away."

 "True. But what if we give him something he desperately wants? An army, resources, intelligence, and... a claim. A way to make his name known beyond the borders of Essos. He could become our sword to strike at the Targaryens, weakening them even further."

Argos, always one to see opportunity in darkness, nodded slowly. "And if he proves to be a threat in the future, we can always dispose of him. We are not the only ones with means of dealing with rivals."

Roland's sharp gaze flicked toward Argos, his skepticism evident. "And you think Daeron would fall in line so easily? He sacrificed his Targaryen name for a reason. We may not know all his intentions, but there is no doubt that his ambitions could outweigh any deal we offer him."

A tense silence fell over the room. The air grew thick with the weight of their indecision. In the end, it was Craghis who broke the silence, his voice softer now but no less commanding. "Perhaps it is time to test his resolve. Let us send him an offer. We will provide him with what he needs to make his move in Westeros. But he must know that if he tries to double-cross us, we will end him without hesitation. His bloodline may be an asset, but we will never allow him to become more than that."

The council members nodded in agreement, the decision made, but the uncertainty remained. The risk was considerable, but the reward could be far greater. Daeron Penndragon was no longer just a bastard in their eyes. He was a potential weapon—a powerful piece in a game that was far larger than any of them could truly comprehend.