Bonus Chapter: Next chapter is Monday unless I feel like writing more.
The heavy doors closed behind Lord Tywin and Lady Cersei with a muted thud.
Silence settled over the chamber.
Only Damon, Ser Harold Waters, and the sleeping infant remained.
For several moments, Damon said nothing. He looked down at the child cradled in his arms. The boy slept peacefully, one tiny hand curled around the fabric of Damon's sleeve, completely unaware that a dynasty had almost fallen because of his parents.
There was something strangely calming about it.
Outside these walls, lords schemed, dragons circled the skies, and the fate of Westeros shifted with every decision Damon made.
Yet this child knew none of it.
Not yet.
Damon gently adjusted the blanket around him before finally breaking the silence.
"You did well."
Harold lowered his head.
"I merely carried out your command, Your Grace."
"You did more than that."
Damon's voice remained calm.
"You completed a task I could trust no one else with."
Harold remained kneeling.
"I would do it again."
"I know."
Damon looked toward him.
"And that is precisely why we need to speak."
Harold finally lifted his head.
There was curiosity in his expression, though it remained carefully restrained.
Damon crossed the chamber toward the window overlooking Blackwater Bay before handing the child to a waiting wet nurse who had quietly entered at his summons.
"See that he wants for nothing."
The woman bowed deeply.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"He is to receive the finest care available."
"Understood."
She departed without another word.
Only once the doors closed again did Damon turn back toward Harold.
"I have been considering how to reward your loyalty."
Harold immediately shook his head.
"There is no need, Your Grace."
"There is."
"You have served faithfully through every command I have given."
"You carried out missions others would have questioned."
"You never once did."
Harold simply stood in silence.
Damon walked slowly around the chamber.
"Harrenhal."
The single word caused Harold's brow to furrow.
"I intend to grant it to you."
For perhaps the first time since Damon had known him, genuine surprise crossed Harold Waters' face.
"My... lord?"
"You heard me."
Harold stared.
Then immediately knelt once more.
"I cannot accept."
Damon's expression remained unchanged.
"No?"
"My place is here."
Harold's voice carried conviction.
"At your side."
"I was born a bastard."
"I never expected lands."
"Nor titles."
"I ask for neither."
"My duty is to protect you."
"Nothing more."
Damon smiled faintly.
"That answer is exactly why I chose you."
Harold looked up in confusion.
Damon stopped before one of the great maps hanging along the wall.
His finger rested upon the center of Westeros.
"Harrenhal."
"The greatest castle ever built."
"The strongest walls in the realm."
"The crossroads of the Riverlands."
His finger traced the roads stretching outward.
"From Harrenhal, one can march north."
"South."
"East."
"West."
"It touches every kingdom."
Harold listened carefully.
"I need someone there."
"Someone whose loyalty belongs to me."
"Not merely the Iron Throne."
"Me."
Harold remained silent.
"There are many great lords."
"Many capable commanders."
"But very few men I trust completely."
Damon turned.
"You are one of them."
The compliment seemed almost to embarrass the knight.
"You place too much faith in me."
"No."
"I place the correct amount."
Damon folded his hands behind his back.
"You believe I am sending you away."
"I am not."
"Harrenhal requires a lord."
"It does not require its lord every day."
Harold frowned slightly.
"I don't understand."
"You will appoint castellans."
"Stewards."
"Captains."
"They will administer the castle."
"You will oversee them."
"But when I require you in King's Landing..."
"...you will come."
A slow realization spread across Harold's face.
"You still intend for me to serve as your sworn shield."
"I do."
"You simply require that Harrenhal answer directly to someone beyond question."
"Exactly, that place will become even more important with the plans I am about to carry out."
"There will come a time when every great house watches every move I make."
"I cannot leave the center of the realm in uncertain hands."
Harold looked down thoughtfully.
The honor was immense.
Greater than anything he had ever imagined.
Yet...
"I have never ruled lands."
"No one is born knowing how."
"You'll learn."
"And you'll have advisors."
Harold remained hesitant. "What if I fail?"
Damon's answer came without hesitation. "Then I'll help you succeed."
Those simple words carried more weight than any grand speech.
Harold slowly lowered himself onto one knee once again.
"If this is your will..."
"It is."
"...then I shall accept."
"I swear Harrenhal will never fail you."
"I know."
Damon extended a hand.
Harold clasped it firmly before rising.
For a brief moment, neither spoke.
No ceremony, no witnesses, no elaborate vows. Simply trust. It was enough.
Elsewhere within the Red Keep, Tywin Lannister's chambers were quiet.
A fire crackled steadily within the hearth as servants withdrew, leaving father and daughter alone.
Tywin removed his gloves with deliberate precision before setting them neatly upon the table.
Cersei remained standing near the window.
"He doesn't smile very often."
Tywin glanced toward her.
"No."
"He doesn't."
Cersei continued. She searched for the proper words. "I don't know what I expected."
"A conqueror."
"A warrior."
"Someone louder."
Instead...
"He listens."
Tywin allowed himself the faintest nod.
"He observes."
"He rarely speaks without purpose."
"And every answer is measured."
Cersei turned toward her father. "He's difficult to read."
"That is intentional." Tywin poured himself wine. "Men reveal themselves constantly."
"In anger."
"In pride."
"In desire."
"Damon reveals almost nothing."
"He gathers information."
"He gives away very little."
Cersei frowned thoughtfully. "I tried to learn what interested him."
"I couldn't."
"Because you approached him as most people would."
Tywin took a slow sip. "He knows why we are here."
She blinked.
"You think he realized?"
Tywin almost smiled.
"I have little doubt."
"He understood why I brought you the moment you entered that chamber."
Rather than disappointing her, the realization intrigued Cersei.
"And yet he never mentioned it."
"No."
"Because acknowledging it gains him nothing."
Tywin walked toward the window beside her. "Never underestimate him because of his age."
"I won't."
"Never mistake courtesy for weakness."
"I won't."
"And never attempt to manipulate him directly."
She looked at her father. "You don't believe it would work."
"I know it won't."
Tywin's gaze drifted toward Caraxes soaring above the city.
"The boy commands dragons."
"But that is not what concerns me."
"What concerns me is that he commands himself."
Silence followed.
Eventually Cersei spoke.
"The child."
Tywin's expression hardened slightly.
"Yes."
"Who do you think he was?"
"I don't know."
"And I dislike not knowing."
The Lord of Casterly Rock rarely admitted ignorance.
Today he did.
"Whatever that child's significance..."
"...it was enough for Damon to end our meeting immediately."
Cersei nodded slowly.
"Do you intend to discover the truth?"
Tywin considered the question.
"For now..."
"No."
Surprisingly.
"There are some doors better left unopened."
"If Damon wished us to know..."
"...he would have told us."
His daughter understood.
Trust.
That would be the foundation.
Not secrets stolen.
"But remember this."
Tywin's voice grew quieter.
"Every ruler stands alone."
"Damon will need people."
"Reliable people."
"Loyal people."
"If he thinks you one of them..."
"...then one day he may decide he cannot rule without you."
Cersei looked back toward the crimson dragon circling above King's Landing.
She had imagined queenship all her life.
As a child, it had been little more than a glittering crown.
As she grew older, it became power.
Now...
Watching dragons command the sky itself...
It became something far greater. A dynasty.
Children with silver hair. Dragonriders.
A legacy that would eclipse every queen before her.
She smiled faintly.
"I understand."
Tywin studied his daughter carefully.
For the first time since arriving in King's Landing, he believed she truly grasped the scale of what stood before them.
This was no ordinary marriage to secure influence.
This was a chance to bind House Lannister to the rebirth of House Targaryen.
If they succeeded...
Their descendants might rule beside dragons for generations.
If they failed...
The lions would forever remain subjects to the dragon.
Across the castle, Damon stood quietly in the nursery doorway.
The infant slept soundly in a carved cradle of dark oak.
One small hand rested outside the blankets.
A nameless child to everyone else.
Damon stepped forward and gently tucked the blanket around him once more.
"So much of the future can be changed by how I choose to handle you," he murmured.
The boy stirred but did not wake.
Outside, a distant roar rolled across King's Landing.
Caraxes.
Answered moments later by the softer, deeper call of Dreamfyre somewhere beyond the city walls.
Damon looked toward the window.
Two dragons filled the skies.
A kingdom waited for its king.
The great houses were already riding toward the capital.
His coronation drew closer with every passing day.
Yet his thoughts lingered on the sleeping child.
Another piece had taken its place upon the board.
And unlike the others...
This one did not yet know he was playing.