[Chapter Size: 2800 Words.]
Third Person POV.
King's Landing.
...
...
Doran Martell was in the Water Gardens in Sunspear, eating some grapes brought to him by a servant that morning, while he seemed thoughtful about the latest decisions of his house, which would decisively determine its future.
He had sent his brother, his lover, his bastard daughters, and his heiress, Arianne, to accompany the suitor Aegon.
His supposed nephew.
Doran stopped thinking the moment he saw him for the first time. He saw nothing of Rhaegar or of his sister in him. Honestly, the idea that he had survived in King's Landing had always seemed strange to him. Even though he had never seen the baby, he did not truly seem to be the boy, with such an absence of his parents' features in his appearance.
However, it was still a great opportunity for them.
The war had devastated everything above Dorne, while Dorne had remained neutral in the face of the conflicts. It had all begun with the arrival of the king in Winterfell after the death of Jon Arryn and, later, with the arrival of that man — or rather, the Son of the She-Wolf — who was said to have seduced Rhaegar, as everyone in Dorne struggled to call him the Whore Wolf.
It took some time for that Daemon to finally act, after the chaos he had caused in the south with the death of the king, planting terror in King's Landing, destroying castles and robbing houses while emptying their coffers. Even the Citadel suffered countless deaths, and everyone pointed to Daemon, since the coffers were left so empty, as the reports from House Tarly and House Lannister showed.
Dorne had a choice some time later: remain neutral, ally with this Daemon Targaryen in search of benefits, or support the supposed son of his sister, which, in the end, seemed the best choice for them.
With the initial advantage of three dragons and the ability to gather an army as large as — that of Dorne and that of the Reach — he would have a great chance of taking the throne, as everyone expected. Even so, it would not be an easy task. Not even Doran could see it as something simple.
No matter the powers he had heard Daemon possessed, and the three dragons — they should be able to handle it, after all he was still a man. It did not matter what kind of monster he might become or that he spat fire with his ice dragon.
His army, for the most part, was made up of savages, no matter how disciplined they had become, they could not defeat an army like the Reach and Dorne...
His gaze fell upon one of his guards.
"I want you to call Tristan. I want to speak with him," he said.
The guard nodded. "Very well, my prince. I will return shortly."
Doran remained there with his personal guard, Areo Hotah, a fierce man with a spear in hand, while the prince, head of the house, looked back at the garden, eating the purple grape.
A movement suddenly caught his attention, when he saw something falling from the sky, looking up from his position against the sun...
At first, he could not see clearly, but he had to blink a few times. Then he began to distinguish the silhouette of a man descending through the open fissures of the garden, where the sun illuminated the plants.
There were green bands circling the man, like two translucent squares, not just one, but two squares spinning as he descended slowly.
Doran saw the man.
His guard reacted immediately, raising his spear and pointing it toward the figure descending from the heavens. Something they had never seen in their lives.
"Guards! Guards!" his sworn guard shouted, as several footsteps could be heard running toward them.
But Doran was not even paying attention. He only saw that young man, not much more than twenty namedays old, floating and descending slowly wrapped in what could only be magic.
The place began to fill with guards. They watched the man touch the ground gently, closing his eyes as the two green circles surrounding him disappeared. Then he opened his eyes and turned his gaze to Doran, completely ignoring the bows already drawn and the at least fifty guards protecting the Prince of Dorne.
"You must be Doran Martell," Daemon said, with a smile.
"You should not be here," Doran murmured, almost unable to believe his own words.
How could he be? The last letter he had received said that Aegon was already marching to King's Landing and would arrive there in a few days... That man should be awaiting the battle. Why would he be there, right now, in the heart of Dorne?
Doran felt a chill as Daemon opened an even wider smile at being questioned.
"A king can be wherever he wishes, can he not, Doran?" Daemon replied, unconcerned with the number of guards.
There were many rumors about him, but the Dornish did not know whether they truly believed most of the stories they heard, always considering them absurd. Even so, there was no denying what they had just seen: he had fallen from the sky wrapped in magic.
Daemon noticed Doran's silence and continued: "I am here for a few things, and one of them is to ask something: why support Blackfyre, Doran Martell?"
"I do not know what you are talking about," he replied, with evident displeasure.
"Come now, Doran. You are smarter than that. I have heard much about you. A strategist, a politician who remained neutral, waiting for the right time to act. But to ally yourself with a Blackfyre? You know he is not your kin. Aegon died that night, at the hands of the Mountain."
"You are wrong. He survived," Doran insisted.
"We must take him to a safe place!" His men tried to grab his wheelchair to move him away. Doran, however, stopped them with a look.
How could he flee? He remained, waiting for Daemon's answer.
"That one is Illyrio's son with Varys's sister, who is a Blackfyre... But honestly..." Daemon let out a breath, as if giving up on arguing. "That does not matter in the end. Unlike you, I avenged Elia, Rhaenys, and the true Aegon. I tortured and killed the Mountain by performing the blood eagle, taking his soul, I stabbed Lorch fifty times before taking his soul, I cut off Tywin's head in the name of my two half-brothers whom I will never know... my blood... I do not hide behind a Blackfyre who uses your nephew's tragedy to elevate himself. Dorne fell for that story quite easily... and now, you will pay for it," he mocked.
"You speak as if the war is already won," Doran said, in an astonishingly calm tone.
It was then that Tristan approached, passing through the guards and positioning himself beside the prince as they faced Daemon standing calmly in the garden.
Daemon merely displayed a wider smile.
"Father..." Tristan murmured in disbelief.
"Of course the war will be won by me, Doran. And this was the last choice of the Martells. Because I decided to rid myself of you, and you gave me a good excuse for it," he declared.
Doran frowned, losing his calm composure, while the guards immediately began preparing to attack.
"You are so confident in the decision to bet against me that you do not even expect reprisals?" Daemon said.
The moment he finished the sentence, a white blur descended from the sky. The next instant, something colossal fell right behind him, striking the garden and making everything explode and tremble. Screams and exclamations echoed everywhere.
Doran watched in shock. Some spears and arrows were hurled at Daemon, who simply raised his hand. A white shield formed before him, blocking all the attacks.
In the next moment, a white dragon manifested behind Daemon, gigantic, making even him look like an ant before the creature.
Daemon displayed a smile.
"You, Doran Martell, are being captured by me, along with your son," he declared.
He raised his other hand, keeping the magical shield active. Doran felt his body being pulled forward, floating against his will, as did his son's, who screamed beside him. His eyes widened. The movement made his legs ache intensely, but the fear was even greater.
"Winter, how does one say 'Dracarys' again?" Daemon asked, pointing at Doran. He had not expected this kind of death, but...
The dragon did nothing.
"Oh, I forgot," Daemon joked. "She does not speak Valyrian."
With that, Doran and his son were pulled directly before him, falling to the ground at his feet.
[Kill them all], Daemon commanded in the ancient tongue.
The dragon immediately lowered its neck and unleashed its attack upon the guards and soldiers present. All were consumed by white flames, while an enormous mist of ice spread in every direction, invading even the castle. Walls were destroyed, structures cracked under the extreme cold.
Daemon watched the destruction with satisfaction, as the men disappeared within the freezing mist.
"What kind of monster are you?" Tristan exclaimed, his eyes wide, before receiving a blow to the head with a padlock that Daemon pulled out of nowhere, using telekinesis. He did the same with Doran, who only stared at him, consumed by fear.
After knocking them down, Daemon lifted the two with ease and placed them on the dragon.
"Well, now let's go get one more fool."
With those words, he mounted the dragon and positioned Doran and his son upon the creature, binding them to the side of its colossal body with telekinesis. Then they took flight, leaving Sunspear partially frozen.
That place would need to be evacuated immediately, for the ice created there would begin to burn the lungs of anyone who breathed that air.
They traveled northwest, crossing the desert in flight, leaving the territory of the Martells, Allyrion, Vaith, Uller, Qorgyle, Dayne, and Blackmont, passing over the Mountains until finally entering the Reach above Tarly lands, Highgarden appearing soon after.
They maintained a height at which no one could detect them. Daemon looked down, seeing the castle more than ten thousand feet below.
"I am going down now, girl." With those words, he simply jumped.
He fell in free fall, rapidly, until he once again activated his magic. His body slowed, beginning to descend slowly right into the middle of the castle.
Winter remained circling the skies, watching, until she would have to be called by her rider.
Soon she began to hear explosions coming from within the castle, as her Daemon advanced using his power, and the female dragon observed the chaos among the humans that her rider was creating.
No other human was capable of matching him. She had already realized that her rider's power was far greater than that of the others from the beginning. She even felt as if he were an equal. She had never fully understood why, but ever since she had found him — since he had taken her from that glacier — something had drawn her deeply to him.
Inside Highgarden, Daemon continued slaughtering men within the castle as they tried to stop him from advancing. Every closed door was easily destroyed, every raised sword easily cut down. He left a trail of death as he searched for Willas Tyrell.
"Stop him! Stop him!" shouted what appeared to be the captain of the guard.
The Tyrell family had many secondary members, and that one, from what Daemon had researched, should be Moryn Tyrell.
The man faced Daemon with fear and hatred.
"You dare attack Highgarden, demon!" he said, using a common nickname for Daemon.
Daemon merely displayed a smile.
"Come now, do not be so tedious. Just attack. I do not have all day. I need to find Willas. You do not interest me much, so you may die here."
The man attacked him immediately. Daemon seized the Leviathan axe at that very moment, parrying lightly. Moryn Tyrell might even be skilled, but Daemon was — and wanted to be — more brutal.
He cut the man down before he could bring the sword down upon him, advancing at high speed, catching the knight by surprise, cleaving through his body as if it were paper.
Then he spun his body and threw the axe. The weapon went spinning and struck the door behind the guards, and suddenly the entire area exploded into ice spikes that pierced every body present. The men screamed, consumed by pain and agony.
Seeing the door partially cracked, Daemon raised his hand and the Leviathan axe flew back to it.
"Fus Ro!" He unleashed an Unrelenting Force Thu'um with two words right after, which blasted through the entire corridor, devastating everything. The stone walls on either side collapsed, the door was hurled inward, and the ceiling began to give way. The chaos made the entire castle tremble.
He stepped over the body of the Tyrell knight, already dead.
He found a family hall where several guards were gathering, all trembling after witnessing the destruction at the entrance. Daemon moved forward, resting the axe on his shoulder and walking as if he owned the place.
"So, do you wish to continue, or will you tell me where Willas is?" he asked.
Daemon did not have an animal like his eye in place to know exactly where he was, but he was certain that he was still in the castle and had not left.
"What do you want with me?"
A voice emerged and someone finally came forward through one of the side entrances, being pushed by a maester in his wheelchair, surrounded by several guards. There he was: a young man slightly older than Jon, with crippled legs.
Daemon narrowed his eyes for a moment before opening a smile.
"You finally appeared, Lord Tyrell..."
"What are you doing here? Why are you killing my men and looking for me? You should be in King's Landing..." he said cautiously and, clearly, fearfully.
One only had to look at all the destruction behind Daemon and at the bodies scattered about. Some men were still screaming, with ice spikes piercing their bodies, scattered after being thrown by the shout that sounded like thunder.
The nickname demon suited him quite well.
"I am here to take you to King's Landing before the battle with Aegon."
That made Willas grow pale. "So you intend to make me a hostage?"
'No,' Daemon answered in his thoughts. But Willas did not need to know that.
"I know you are intelligent about the game of thrones, so do not come to me with that speech about what is right or wrong. This is a political game, Willas. And now you will be in my hand."
"Why me? Will you also capture Olenna, my grandmother, and my sister?" he asked, since both were in Storm's End alone. With these abilities you are demonstrating now, why could you not seize them as well? Not that he wanted that, but he needed to understand.
It would be intelligent to do that as well, but Daemon wanted Margaery to be discovered with her little romance with Eric Storm.
"Let us say I have personal reasons for this, but they do not concern you. In any case, I will destroy this castle and kill everyone who stands before me until I capture you," Daemon said.
The men around stiffened, growling at him, though visibly nervous.
Daemon drew air into his lungs, ready to begin another massacre with a new Thu'um.
Willas's eyes widened immediately. That man was cruel, and it was obvious he would use magic to kill everyone there.
"Wait! I will go with you!" Willas shouted, making Daemon stop and look at him.
"My lord, you must not!" exclaimed the maester behind him.
"There is nothing that can stop him here. If you came to take me, then so be it. Just spare my men," Willas said.
Daemon smiled faintly at those words.
"Very well."
He simply raised his hand, making Willas float along with the wheelchair, moving toward him under everyone's astonished gaze.
"It is not the first time I have captured someone in a wheelchair today. Now let us go."
He turned, making Willas float beside him. They walked toward the garden. No one else disturbed them. Willas gave orders whenever he could, while he remained suspended in the air by an invisible force. The servants and some guards screamed in fear and prayed, saying it was witchcraft. Seeing their lord held by magic terrified them greatly.
The guards made way, fearful, until Winter landed, destroying part of the flowers in the gardens of Highgarden.
Daemon placed Willas beside Doran and Tristan, who were already awake, watching the scene in horror.
"Now we go to King's Landing," Daemon declared.
Then he made Winter take flight, leaving Highgarden and heading east.
He wanted to prepare a surprise for Blackfyre's allied army.
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