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🕑 Added 2025-08-16 15:59:53 +0000 UTCChapter 43 : Conversations
Dragonstone
Couple of days ago
Lyanna Mormont
Lyanna gazed in wonder as the island of Dragonstone came into view, the jagged cliffs rising stark against the sea. Twice they circled the black rock before descending, the winds lashing her hair as the dragon wheeled through the sky. At last they came upon the smoking slopes of the Dragonmount, where Caraxes settled upon the ash-strewn ground with scarcely a sound. For a beast of such vast size, the dragon could be the perfect predator when needed.
Lyanna was reluctant to dismount, even though she was slightly tired from the arduous journey. But needs must, and Daemon looked at her with a smirk, probably noticing her forlorn expression as she gazed at Caraxes with melancholy.
“Come on, get down. I cannot wait for you to say your goodbyes to Caraxes here and then meet the castellan, who will show you to your quarters,” Daemon said.
Lyanna nodded, and she dismounted with such ease and smoothness that all the dragonkeepers stared at her in wonder. She ignored their looks as she walked toward Caraxes’s head, brushing aside the warnings of the dragonkeepers, and petted the dragon while projecting courtesy and gratitude.
Caraxes rumbled in satisfaction at her touch, and at last Lyanna turned toward the doors of the castle proper, where Daemon was waiting.
She cast one last glance back at Caraxes, her thoughts drifting to the wonder of their flight as she closed her eyes.
She had whooped with joy while holding on to the ropes of the saddle on Caraxes. Fortunately for her, the saddle was designed so that three riders could travel in comfort, and Lyanna was glad she had not been forced to cling to Daemon. Truthfully, she had missed the feeling of flying, though she wondered how she could long for something she had only experienced a few times when her grandfather had once taken her into the skies.
Daemon had tried, time and again, to rattle her. He urged Caraxes into sudden plunges, sharp turns, perilous dives, each meant to draw fear from her lips. Instead he had earned only her laughter, her delighted whoops ringing above the sea. His frown at her joy had been a small victory she savored. Yet even in her elation, she had thought how much farther they might have flown had Caraxes not squandered his strength in such useless flourishes.
When she opened her eyes again, they gleamed with determination. She had decided. She would claim a dragon of her own before returning to the North, whatever the consequences might be.
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Lyanna looked over the balcony towards the sky from the guest room assigned to her by the castellan under the orders of Prince Daemon Targaryen. The castellan had first tried to place her in one of the lesser quarters, but a single harsh glare from her, using one of the techniques she had picked up from her father, froze him to the spot. He quickly changed the assignment to the larger and better quarters.
Lyanna had bathed and changed into one of the finer dresses she had brought with her. She was about to rest in the soft, feathery bed when someone knocked on the door.
She had already warged into a black cat that she had broken earlier, and it now lay in the corridor outside her chamber. Closing her eyes, she slipped into its mind and to her surprise saw a knight of the Kingsguard standing there.
She wondered whether it was the queen or the king who had sent him.
Opening the door, she looked at the knight. “Ser?”
“Lady Mormont,” the knight said with a slight bow, “the king has sent me to escort you to him. He is waiting in the chamber with the Painted Table.”
Lyanna simply nodded. “Aye, then. It is good to have an escort, for I do not yet know my through this surprisingly complex castle.”
The knight only nodded.
Lyanna smirked to herself as he looked away down the hall while they walked. In truth, she already knew exactly where the table was. Through the eyes of her cat she had explored nearly all the public areas of the castle, and she possessed an excellent memory.
When she entered the chamber, she curtsied before the king, her great-grandfather.
“Your Grace,” she said with a bow.
The king dismissed the Kingsguard to stand outside, leaving them alone in the room.
“Lyanna, it is good to see you at last, my dear granddaughter,” the king said with a smile.
Lyanna scrutinized his face to judge whether the greeting was false. To her surprise, there was a touch of genuine warmth in his expression.
“I am surprised by that greeting, Your Grace,” Lyanna replied as her eyes drifted from the old king to the famous Painted Table.
Her eyes widened in wonder at the accuracy of the map of the realm. She studied the northern portion and wondered how it had been commissioned without the kingdoms noticing dragons flying above them, scouting before the Conquest.
“Surprised?” the king asked. “I do know of my prodigal grandson’s daughter and his other bastards, though even I could not keep the final tally of them all. If I had my way, you would have been wed to Daemon instead of that Royce. Alas, my wife hated the idea and it never happened.”
Lyanna snorted at the thought of being betrothed to Daemon.
“Well then, grandmother did you a great service, my king. I would never marry such a man now. That betrothal would have been rejected outright, and if you had pressed it, I simply have run away.”
Jaehaerys’s smile vanished as he studied her.
“You reject a prince of the blood, a dragonlord at that?” he asked.
Lyanna scoffed. “A prince of the blood? What a meaningless, self-boasting title. My own blood is far more precious than Daemon Targaryen’s, Your Grace. I am the daughter of Daemon Snow. As for dragonlord, I have yet to meet an unclaimed dragon, but all animals love me as they always do. I am certain I could bond with any unclaimed dragon if I wished, so it is hardly an achievement. Especially when dragons are bound to like you simply because of your ancestors. Where is the adventure or thrill in achieving something not with legacy but with your own hands and talent?”
The king remained silent, observing her.
“I see you have inherited not only some of Daemon Snow’s abilities but also some of his traits. Or perhaps you are simply emulating him, hoping he will care for you more, you in his travels, or finally stay by your side?” the king asked with a smirk.
Lyanna’s eyes widened in shock. She had never imagined the old king, who had never even laid eyes on her before, could guess so precisely.
“How did you know that?” she snapped.
The king laughed. “I am an old man, Lyanna. I know people and what they usually think or desire. I recently met Daemon Snow, and now, seeing you, the similarity is plain. The fact that the other Daemon did disclose why you are here and the other meeting he had with you also helped me very much. So, you are the only living person besides Aethan Reed who actually witnessed my daughter’s wedding.” His tone grew grim at the last words.
“Aye, Your Grace,” Lyanna said, a touch of embarrassment and guilt creeping into her voice. “It was only due to Fenrir that I was able to see it. I am angry at him for that and I could see how even you would be angered to miss your own daughter’s wedding or the fact that they did it without your permission or blessings.”
Jaehaerys waved away her words. “I am only disappointed in missing it, and more angered by how it reflects on House Targaryen’s reputation. Nothing more. What is done is done, and as always, I will deal with it. What I am more curious about is you. Do you not fear angering your king by rejecting a betrothal suggested by me, or by implying you could steal a dragon from me?”
Lyanna noticed that the old king had the spark of curiosity and wonder in his eyes as he questioned her. There was obviously some other reason for him to ask this, she knew that, but for the life of her, she couldn’t see why The King would bother anyway.
“Since you ask so directly, I will answer the same way, Your Grace. I am proud of my abilities. Even if you made me a prisoner in my chamber, I could easily escape. Even if dozens of men-at-arms were waiting outside, I could fight my way free, for I could take you hostage. I hope you remember the tale of the Red Death. I am nearly half that level now. Even if you managed to subdue or kill me, you would lose everything, for my father would come for his share of blood. And since you met my father after he ran away with your daughter and yet gave no order against him, I know you are pragmatic enough not to rouse a sleeping dragon.” Lyanna said with a shrug of indifference.
To her surprise, Jaehaerys did not grow angry. Instead, she sensed amusement and even relief from him, as though she had confirmed something he already suspected.
“So, my dear granddaughter, even without the name Targaryen, you have our pride and arrogance in spades with the power to back it up. Yet, if you are so sure of your father caring and loving you enough to start a war against me and five kingdoms, I don’t see why you are so insecure about your father not being there with you or for not including you in his travels. Let this be the one lesson I will give you, Do not emulate your father to impress them or make them care for you if they already don’t. Your own father daemon was hated by Aemon half his life and Daemon didn’t cared enough to do anything to get his attention or even impress him. am glad I could meet you before our family gathering, but unfortunately, it is only for those of the Targaryen name.” The king’s smile carried a mocking edge.
Lyanna looked with curiosity at the king as she did register a very mocking grin from the king while he adviced her regarding emulating one’s father.
Lyanna tilted her head, noting that mocking grin while he gave his counsel.
“Oh, it is no matter, grandfather,” she said lightly. “I will leave after I get my first clue of where my father is. And thank you for your wisdom. Perhaps I will rethink some things after all.”
Jaehaerys nodded. “Do not leave for a week, Lyanna. I am certain you will see your father here, rather than anywhere else. Also, when you leave, do not attempt to claim a dragon. You are a Mormont. If you wish to claim one, marry a Targaryen. Aegon is still unwed, and I would gladly accept it and arrange the betrothal if you wished for it.”
Lyanna snorted. “No thank you, my king. I do not think marriage is for me, not now at least. I can always wait to claim a dragon.” She finished with a pointed grin that softened into a warm pointed smile aimed at the King.
The king almost agreed before he caught himself and glared.
“Did you just try to charm your way out of the order I gave you?” Jaehaerys demanded in surprise.
“Well, I had to at least try,” Lyanna replied with a shrug. “It almost always works on father.”
Jaehaerys was bewildered by that answer and silently was thankful that Lyanna had not grown up in King’s Landing. Perhaps it would have affected him, if he had known her from childhood.
Lyanna left the chamber once dismissed, but she allowed her cat to remain behind, hidden, to observe. She was curious about the secret family meeting that was about to happen.
Lyanna had used the cat to sneak into the family meeting, and she could admit that she was surprised more than once. She had met the king, her great-grandfather, only once before and their meeting had been good. Yet she could not reconcile that kind, gracious king with the monster she saw in this gathering.
She was happy when her father appeared, acting as nonchalant as ever. She would have openly grinned in joy if she could when the king declared him legitimate and named him a Targaryen. Even though her father did not care in the slightest about being called a bastard and always considered it irrelevant, the word had stung her whenever arrogant nobles used it in front of her. She always put them down with words and found ways to get back at them, of course, but she had never been able to make an example of them physically. Now there was a chance. The king had legitimized him, and to call him “bastard” or “Snow” again would be to go against the king’s own decree.
Then, when the king named her father as his next heir, she nearly lost control of the cat in shock. She had thought it would end in bloodshed when the king even went so far as to threaten disowning both him and Gael.
The next revelation finally made her understand why her earlier meeting with the king had been so unexpectedly friendly and answered some of her lingering doubts. The king had been seeking confirmation of her father’s love for her and for his children, making sure he could use that bond to keep Daemon tied to him.
The pragmatic side of her, sharpened under the training of Uncle Cregan and her father, almost admired the king’s cleverness and strength of will. But another part of her burned with anger at being exploited so easily. She had fallen for the game without even realizing it.
Perhaps the king would not have gambled so boldly if he had not received confirmation from her own lips, Lyanna thought bitterly as she slipped out of the cat’s body once the meeting dispersed.
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t was the next morning, while looking for her father, that Lyanna’s thoughts registered another fact.
My father is the heir now, and he will be the next king. I would be the first-born daughter of the king. Will I be called a princess from now on, or would I inherit the kingdom?
Lyanna immediately scoffed at the thought. She was a Mormont, and whatever happened, her place was in the North, not here. She knew she was adventurous and craved it, but she also knew she would always return home.
She shook her head, clearing away such irrelevant thoughts, as she saw her father standing in Aegon’s garden.
“Lyanna. I have been waiting for you,” Daemon said seriously, and for a moment Lyanna froze, as if she had been called out by her father after being caught doing something she shouldn’t. She quickly shook her head, dismissing the silly thought, for she was in the right this time. It was her father who had gone off on his adventures for years and then married without even telling her. The idea that her father thought he could kill someone as a sacrifice after leading them on for years was absurd to her. She fully believed her father had lied to the Targaryen about that for some reason or another, maybe just to make the Queen more mad.
“No. You just didn’t do that. I am not a little girl that you can wave your words at and make me believe I was in the wrong while you are always correct,” Lyanna snapped as she almost ran to him and threw a punch at his face. She missed, as usual, because Daemon easily dodged her attempt.
Daemon lost his seriousness, and Lyanna grew even more enraged when she saw the grin on his face.
Her hand went to Longclaw, and she tightened her grip on the hilt. She would have drawn it and swung at him if she didn’t know it would be utterly pointless.
“Oh, come on, dear daughter, it used to work on you—and even almost did just now,” Daemon replied. “So, what brought you to the South?”
“What brought me here?” Lyanna snapped back. “You really have to ask that? You went on to marry, and not only did you not invite me, you didn’t even tell me! If not for Fenrir, I would not even have known about it. At least he cares for me more than you.”
“Fenrir? What do you mean, Fenrir? He allowed you to warg him?” Daemon asked, and Lyanna saw genuine surprise on her father’s face.
“Aye, he did. He even nudged me to do it. And when I warged, there it was—uncle Aethan standing as the joiner, and you marrying the princess,” Lyanna replied.
Daemon just waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing aside her sorrow. “Believe me, daughter, it was as much a surprise for me as for you, and not planned at all. Also, don’t worry. There will probably be a proper wedding in King’s Landing during the celebratory tourney for the new heir. You may be invited—if you can behave like a good noble lady.”
Lyanna snorted. “You are a menace, father. I really want to teach you a lesson. You are fortunate that you were blessed by the gods to be born as you are. Imagine running away with the king’s Daughter and then getting rewarded with being the heir to the kingdom even if it comes with headaches, just because of your abilities. I am glad that atleast the king found something to punish you with for marrying like that because I can’t do anything, even with me improving so much after all those ridiculous training.”
Her smile vanished as Daemon’s eyes narrowed in irritation.
“Really, daughter? Hypocrite much?” Daemon said. “There is nothing blessed about where I am today. I may have been born with certain abilities, but everything I am now was achieved only through my blood, sweat, and tears. It is neither luck nor blessing—it is years of hard work and planning. A lesser man would have avoided the pain and grit believing that his abilities would save him, but not me. I seem to remember teaching you this lesson years ago, when you mocked those lesser than you in your pride and arrogance. I thought you had learned, because you have worked hard ever since to improve yourself. Beware, daughter. Any child born to me from now on will be able to surpass even your physical and magical power with half the effort you put in. Now, take out your sword. It is time to beat this lesson into you again, hard consistent work and skill will always prevail over natural talent without any hard-work, while I make myself comfortable with my new blade.”
Lyanna groaned in frustration as she nearly got slashed open; her father had moved the moment he finished speaking. Only her speed in dodging saved her from two weeks of pain and healing.
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Daemon ‘The Red Death’ Targaryen
Heir to the Seven Kingdoms.
I fed my daughter one of the potions as she lay groaning in pain on her bed from all the training. After Daemon the Younger went off to his important business of brooding while flying, I had sparred with Lyanna for hours until she couldn’t even move her arms anymore.
During the night after the meeting, I had tried to glimpse through green-seeing what Lyanna had discussed with my grandfather, but I was sure it was then that the king realized his insane gamble would work easily. I loved Lyanna, and I could not imagine her surviving any attempt at dragon taming with her current strength without the Valyrian magic in us. More than that, I could not afford the risk of being killed by the Walkers when the inevitable war happens. All my blood not being able to claim dragons is something will weaken us immensely. I shuddered to think what would happen if I were killed by them and raised back. With even one percent of Doomsday’s adaptability and my rotten luck, I might regain my mind yet still be under the control of the Walkers. I did not want that fate at all, because I hate slavery and lack of freedom to whatever I want.
I sat beside her on the bed, massaging her head. One of my flat-end strikes had been too strong, and I had lost control for a second. Lyanna had nearly fainted from it, and only adrenaline and rage had kept her conscious.
In a way, I was fortunate—my task had become easier than my original plan—but I was still disappointed that I had to concede and accept the consolation prize of the Seven Kingdoms. I almost scoffed aloud, because who was I kidding? I had only six kingdoms. Dorne was not part of my realm—yet. Still, grandfather had been right in some respects. It was far better to begin with six kingdoms under decades of steady administration than to inherit a war-torn crown after the Dance. Especially when I had done practically nothing for it and it was handed to me on a silver platter. For the lazy man in me, who had delegated all my plans for the North to my grandfather and now to Cregan, this was a golden opportunity.
Yet, for some reason, I felt heavy and disappointed in myself. At least training Lyanna allowed us to air our frustrations and satisfy the craving to strike something. I smiled as I saw Lyanna had fallen asleep in tiredness and by my own massaging of her head.
“So this is the daughter I have heard nothing about, even though you mentioned your plan to elevate human strength by leaving your bastards everywhere,” Gael said as she entered the room.
I studied her face but found nothing I could read. Even my empathy sense could not pick up anything—she had muted her emotions and consciousness. It was a very good and simple technique, similar to the vanishing trick Toga used in MHA, except here Gael had used it to vanish her mental presence while leaving her physical form visible. For someone who had lived unseen in the shadows as a wallflower for years, Gael had easily developed it after being overwhelmed by our bond and my overflowing thoughts.
And hence, for a second, I didn’t know what to say before deciding to go casual.
“Aye, this is Lyanna Mormont, heiress of Bear Island and my firstborn child. I am not a hypocrite like other parents who claim they have no favorites. I will gladly admit she is my favorite among my many children. Perhaps it is because she is the only one I have ever personally interacted with—but she is my favorite nonetheless,” I said with a small warm smile, my fingers still moving gently through her hair.
Gael remained silent for several heartbeats before breaking into a broad, kind smile.
“You look simply spectacular, Daemon. I can’t wait to see what you’ll be like when our child is born,” Gael exclaimed.
I nearly failed to hide my grimace at that. I had not yet decided when we should have a legitimate child, especially now that our situation had changed because I had accepted the position of heir. I had many plans to secure the loyalty of the people and lords before Jaehaerys’s death, to ensure my idiotic cousins would have little chance of starting a war. Gael had her part to play in those plans, and I could not allow her to vanish for months during pregnancy and recovery. She seemed to notice my silence and her smile faded.
“What is it now, Daemon?” Gael asked, frowning in irritation.
“I think this is not the right time, Gael. We need to be prepared for our ascension, and I cannot have you disappearing from the public eye for months during this period. Even though I am almost certain of our survival, a child complicates matters. It becomes an easy target for my cousins should they rebel, and their best chance will be when the king dies. Even with my potions, the king may not live long enough for our child to grow safely.”
Gael opened her mouth to argue, then closed it in deep thought, as if registering the truth of what I said.
“Daemon, I know you are tired after the slaughter in the Stepstones and from not even sleeping after yesterday’s horrible meeting, but you seem to forget that we have been rutting like rabbits for days. Do you even know how many times you spilled inside me? I may already be with child,” Gael said with a shrug.
My eyes widened in shock, and I almost cursed aloud before glancing at the sleeping form of Lyanna, forcing myself to whisper.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered as my mind raced through countless contingencies. I did not fear winning a war if it came to that, but it would be such a waste of time and coin—and too much of a risk for my child.
Gael looked concerned as she heard my whispered curses. She came near, sat on the bed beside me, and wrapped her arms around me.
“Daemon, how are you? I have never seen you like this before. You always looked in control of everything, brimming with confidence bordering on arrogance. Now you look… shaken.”
I remained silent as I processed her question.
“You are right, my dear. I am disappointed in myself regarding this entire matter. I was forced to accept it. And I was shocked by the magic Jaehaerys revealed—and the truth that he is Maegor’s son. I never knew that, and I wonder what else I don’t know. No… the problem is not ignorance, it is that I may be wrong about things I believe wholeheartedly. Worse, I cannot bear that I was made to accept this without a fight. Even now I have a half a mind to just say fuck it and have my way forcefully.”
Gael grew thoughtful, then answered softly. “I know you must have verified what you could, Daemon. Don’t trouble yourself too much now. Perhaps the difference is a good one. Look at my own vision. I saw a bard seducing me, betraying me, and leading to my death. But instead of a bard, I found you—and now I am to be queen. Maybe my father being a bastard himself is a good thing because he was able to swallow his pride and come to the pragmatic choice of making you his heir over starting a fight between his own daughter and grandson over prickled pride. Also, I am not worried about your pride at all. You controlled your lust for me when I was begging for it for two years and if you could that, I am pretty sure that controlling your pride and anger is something, you could do easily. You waited two years because you believed the reward was worth it. Now you just need to see the reward here as well.”
I remained silent as I thought over what Gael just said. Would a trueborn Jaehaerys from canon would actually do what he did now or even if knowing it was foolishness at its best, would he have started a man hunt for me and his daughter. my thoughts sped faster considering many what-ifs and at the end, still I had no answer but assumptions. I had done my major due diligences regarding my future knowledge using my animals and green-seeing. I could do nothing but increase it and prepare for the worst.
“That is an excellent point, my love. Perhaps it is good that Jaehaerys was a bastard. And I am sorry that the freedom I promised you is delayed. For now, we must play king and queen.”
Gael waved a hand dismissively. “It is all right, Daemon. I am not trapped like before. I can be queen for a while.”
I nodded, relieved it was not a sticking point.
“And you are correct. The reward of our children claiming dragons easily will be worth it,” I said, glancing at Lyanna and I could easily feel pride even imagining her thriving on her own trials.
Gael followed my gaze and smiled warmly. “She has your looks, Daemon. I don’t know how your features can look so manly on you, and yet so beautiful on her.”
I grinned smugly. “What can I say? I am just that good-looking. It is my warrior’s body that makes me so manly. Girls across the kingdom lust after me and grow wet from just a smile.” I boasted carelessly.
The warmth in Gael’s smile vanished instantly. My grin faltered, and I almost facepalmed at my own foolishness. I knew it was necessary to sire many children, but even then, guilt and shame prickled me for what I had said.
“So there is truth in it,” Gael said with a grimace. “Daemon, I always thought you were exaggerating when you claimed to have hundreds of bastards. I expected one or two accidents, perhaps, but this surprises me. So I must ask—will you continue leaving bastards even now?”
I sighed, defeated. “I have no choice, Gael. Especially now. If Maegor could be Jaehaerys’s father, why would the damned Long Night wait politely for my timeline of two centuries? What if it comes next winter? There are no rumors yet of vanishing wildlings, so perhaps nothing will happen now. Still, I only half believe in my own prophecy of 200 years. We must prepare, Gael—and raising humanity’s strength is the first step. Believe me, I would have abandoned meaningless coupling long ago. It had become monotonous, without feeling—at least on my side.”
“How many are there in King’s Landing now?” Gael asked finally after a bit too long of a silence.
“A dozen,” I admitted.
“And how many since you began seducing me—and I began to love you?” Gael asked, her face lined with worry and sorrow.
“None,” I said with a shrug.
Gael immediately brightened with a teasing smile. “Oh? Interesting. What happened, oh savior of mankind? Did your magical cock fail after I met you?”
I laughed, forgetting my earlier worries. “No, I simply couldn’t bother with others when you sucked me dry daily.” I joked back.
Gael immediately blushed and closed her eyes to escape my gaze.
“The emotions and the bond were too strong. I couldn’t taint them with anything else. So, I decided to be monogamous, atleast until the ritual. I was going to kill you, the least I could do was not cheat on you too.” I finished with a shrug.
After a long moment, Gael controlled her blush and spoke again. “I don’t want to see life end as it is. If only your blood can save it, then so be it—leave bastards behind if you must. But do it discreetly. I don’t ever want to see those whores in our bed, or beneath you, when I come to you. I know you keep your warg animals to alert you—make sure none of the girls are near when I am present. And since children are vital to your plans to save mankind, you will not deny me. From now on, we will have children. Make your plans accordingly. And you will make sure none of your bastards grow up as orphans. If there are no kin, you will take responsibility. Do you understand, Daemon?”
I grimaced at her second condition, having hoped to keep Gael free for now—if she was not already with child. I even thought of asking her to drink moon tea, but then I remembered I had already been feeding her moon tea along with small amounts of poisons for the last two years, so she would build immunity through my fluids. I did not want to fight, so I only nodded.
“I already care for all my children, Gael. Do not worry. Unlike others, I can personally keep an eye on them. Though now, with my duties, it will become more difficult.”
Gael nodded. “Then continue doing so.”
I was surprised at how easily she accepted it.
“Why?” I asked curiously.
“Why not, Daemon?” Gael replied with a shrug. “I was ready to die for you. Compared to that, this is nothing. You gave me long life, powers, and now the crown of a queen. I know you love me—and that is enough.”
“Well, then, thank you, my dear,” I said. “Also, come with me to the Hall of the Painted Table this evening. It is time we meet your father and cousins to discuss the changes to come. I also wish to hear what plans grandfather had to secure our house against the snakes lurking in the shadows and add them with my own ideas.”
Gael smiled and agreed.
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That evening, I sat at the northern end of the Painted Table—in the chair of the king. I had deliberately chosen to arrive first and sit at the head, to remind all that this was the seat of highest authority. My eyes travelled over the carved lands that would one day be mine. I looked sideways and I couldn’t see nothing but air For a moment, I considered commissioning an adjoining table of Essos and the Stepstones, but dismissed the thought with a snort. That would only draw the notice of every city across Essos and perhaps unite them against me.
“What are you thinking my love.” Gael asked. Gael was sitting on my left with a smile that spelled mischief.
I looked at her and just shrugged.
“Nothing very important dear. Just some idle thoughts.” I said. Gael just hummed as if not believing me and a pleasant silence descended to the room.
The silence was broken when my cousins and half-sister entered. Their already serious faces grew grimmer upon seeing me. I ignored their looks and greeted them with a grin.
A few minutes later, the king himself entered. He paused for several heartbeats when his eyes fell on me and where I was sitting. My grin widened, but I held my tongue as the king swallowed a grimace. I understood that he was hoping that I was just angry when I said that I would be king in all but name yesterday and I wouldn’t follow through with it.
Fortunately for everyone, my grandfather didn’t say anything and he stood in the opposite side of the table where no chairs was laid down. I immediately understood he would order someone to drag a chair to there and sit there. I thought of making him sit on my right hand side, but it would be more effective to discuss face to face.
“Ah, cousin with my name, please move a chair so that our grandfather can sit.” I ordered.
Daemon the younger stood and I thought he was going to rage at me, but a harsh look from the king who wanted the same thing stopped him immediately making him follow the order.
As everyone sat around the Painted Table, I cleared my throat to command their attention.
“I have called you all here to discuss the changes coming to the kingdom and its laws. Shall we begin?”
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Authors note: yeah jae was planning on what he did with daemon snow as a backup plan even before the meeting in dragonstone… jae knew daemon wouldn’t accept and jae was looking for leverage. Jae knew he couldn’t threaten them directly and jae knew that daemon cared for lyanna deeply. Even then pride and anger could blind one and jae was hesitant. This meeting with lyanna made jae realise his threat of disinheriting daemon magically would work almost all the time… because, well daemon cares for lyanna deeply and lyanna will go for a dragon whatever the consequences it may have… also jae also heard from daemon Targaryen about lyanna;s words regarding the great council and how daemon is sitting in the sidelines waiting for something. Daemon’s warning regarding the dance made him realise that daemon was waiting for it to exploit it.
The oath made by daemon during the meeting was the final nail in the coffin that made jae realise the master plan of daemon and the jae decided to go with his plan of declaring daemon heir and the more difficult task of actually making him accept it….
So I have already decided the new laws, long back and written in a chapter form where it is introduced to the small council as such, which is otto pov…… Do you think I should add a chapter before that showing this meeting debating and deciding on it.
For eg. 2 new explicit law will be this : The King’s authority and power is absolute and neither the gods nor men may go above the authority and power of the King.
2. Heirship to the iron throne.
1 absolute condition: only a dragonlord could ever be a heir and then later on king. all non dragonlord Targaryens are at the end of the line of succession.
if the king didn’t declare someone heir the heirship is as follows, Firstborn child regardless of gender, provided they are a dragonlord and retained the name Targaryen. All future kings are recommended to declare their heir as soon as possible and only choose a dragonrider if possible.
If no children for the king and then his sibling will be the king/queen provided he is a drgaonlord.
Comments
the batman
thanks!!! ❤️❤️❤️
the batman
welcome!!!!!!
blaiz
Thanks for the chapter and for your hard work
Rachel N
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
