Black Wolf
patreon
ADS 38
🕑 Added 2025-06-30 18:51:19 +0000 UTCChapter 38: The King and The Bastard.
Disclaimer: This is a story based on ASOIAF Universe and all recognizable characters, plots belong to GRRM. I have no ownership to it.
King’s Landing
3 days later
Midnight.
The King’s chamber
King Jaehaerys Targaryen was not having a good week. It had started well enough, with the public humiliation of Corlys Velaryon before the realm and its lesser lords. Jaehaerys had thoroughly enjoyed the look on Corlys’s face when he named Viserys as his heir. It had been one of the few bright days since Baelon’s death and, for a moment, helped him forget the heartbreak of losing so many children while he himself remained alive as the King of the Realm
But that fleeting happiness vanished with the news that Gael had gone missing. He was too old to ride Vermithor now, or he might have summoned the Bronze Fury and taken to the skies himself in search of his daughter.
He arrived in King’s Landing with a rage he hadn’t felt in decades. He still remembered that Small Council meeting—how Otto Hightower had practically begged to remain Hand. The only reason Jaehaerys hadn’t removed him was because he himself had failed. Not even his scrying had shown him where Gael had gone or how.
His frustration grew worse when he tried to comfort his queen. Somehow, in Alysanne’s eyes, Gael’s disappearance was his fault too. It took all his control not to lash out and say that perhaps her smothering of Gael had driven the girl to flee.
Jaehaerys appointed Viserys to lead the search for Gael, giving him full authority to do whatever was necessary. That night, mentally and physically exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep in his chambers. But even as evening fell, unease tugged at his instincts—the same instincts that had kept his family alive for decades. Still, weariness won out. He placed Blackfyre on the table beside his bed, within easy reach, and lay down. He still remembered the shadow he'd once slain as a youth.
It was midnight when Jaehaerys woke suddenly, his body jerking upright faster than his age should allow. His hand reached for Blackfyre by reflex. Ignoring the ache in his joints, he scanned the room, lit by the flickering glow of oil lamps and candles. Everything appeared in place. He exhaled and lay back down. He laid back down and immediately sat back up again finally grasping the fact that his hands had not closed around Blackfyre’s hilt when he sat up first time.
A cold sweat broke across his back. He slid a hand under the pillow, fingers wrapping around the dragonglass dagger he kept as a last resort. His eyes scanned the shadows more carefully—and then he saw it: the faint glint of light catching on Valyrian steel.
Suddenly a wind blew out of the open window, making the candles and oil lambs flare enough, moving around to light the shadow in which he saw the glint. The intruder was sitting in the throne like chair of his that Jaehaerys liked very much. The intruder was lounging back, with a leg crossing casually on another leg. The man was studying Blackfyre with idle curiosity, completely ignoring him.
“Don’t worry, Grandfather,” the intruder said with a smirk, finally looking at the king. “Today is not the day I become a kinslayer.”
Jaehaerys looked at his first grandson for the first time in his life. The first thing that struck him was how much young, a man nearing thirty-five looked. Daemon resembled almost the same age as Daemon the Younger. The second was the eyes. The heterochromatic gaze carried the same arrogance and restrained power Jaehaerys knew all too well—his own reflected back at him.
Finally, Jaehaerys spoke. “Daemon. To what do I owe the pleasure—now, of all times? If memory serves, you’re still exiled from the South, and I haven’t summoned you back.”
Daemon only grinned. “Don’t be like that, dear old man. We both know this isn’t my first time in the South. Why waste energy worrying about royal decrees when you’re not going to do anything about them—or more truthfully, when you can’t?”
Jaehaerys swallowed the anger rising in him. He took two deep breaths, then sighed, removing the mask of a king. Sometimes love worked better than fear or fury.
“You’re ofcourse right, grandson. We are alone and why waste time when I need my rest very much. Why are you here and more than that, how are you here without alerting anyone?” Jaehaerys asked with a warm smile.
Daemon’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment before he let out a snort. “You're sharp as ever, grandfather. Fine. I’ll indulge you.”
Jaehaerys had to control himself to stop from gritting his teeth in anger.
“I am here just to see you with my own eyes, Grandfather, and to have a talk before I leave Westeros for some years. This will be my only chance, since by the time I return, you will likely be dead. I also wanted to personally thank you for allowing me to grow in power peacefully, even though you never truly meant it when you ordered my stay in the North all those years ago.”
Jaehaerys noted the mention of travel and nodded.
“So you’re here to talk? I can understand the desire to speak with a grandparent before heading into the unknown. Then let’s talk. Hand over Blackfyre now, since talking doesn’t require a sword.”
Daemon grinned. “Well, that was my initial plan anyway, but seeing the King’s sword just lying beside you, I had to indulge my curiosity. What a sight it is. The craftsmanship is exquisite even for Valyrian steel, but the enchantments beyond the usual are what truly impressed me. This is indeed a king’s sword. You know, I was going to take Dark Sister from my young namesake before heading to Essos for protection, but now I’ve changed my mind. I will take Blackfyre with me as my birthright, like my other birthrights.”
Jaehaerys had to restrain himself from hurling the dragonglass knife at Daemon’s eyes in frustration.
“Clearly, you don’t expect to just walk out of my castle with my sword?” Jaehaerys asked, deciding to try, even though he knew intimidation would not work on Daemon. Even the Red Death would be overwhelmed by the numbers and skill gathered here.
Daemon just smirked. “I like your sheer bravado, Grandfather. Even knowing the truth, you still try to claw back what you can. For your information, I’ve grown strong enough to fight my way out even without Valyrian steel in my hand. With it, things become much easier. But that’s a hypothetical scenario. I don’t plan to walk out of this room. I plan to fly.”
Jaehaerys’s eyes widened, and his breath hitched in shock. His thoughts immediately turned to his dragon, Vermithor. The bronze fury responded.
Jaehaerys saw the landscape around the Red Keep through Vermithor’s eyes as the dragon looked from his roost. Vermithor flew up and focused, trying to locate the intruding dragon. But Jaehaerys was thrown out of his mind as Vermithor felt fear for the first time in decades.
“Cannibal,” Jaehaerys muttered reflexively as he came back to himself.
Daemon nodded. “That was fast. You have an excellent bond with the Bronze Fury, Grandfather. But he’s Cannibal no more. His name is Morghul, as of a couple of days ago.”
Jaehaerys ignored the teasing tone in the appreciation and considered the implications.
“Congratulations are in order, grandson,” he said at last, genuine pride in his voice. “Whatever else happens, you have done the impossible, since the Doom and I can appreciate the talent of my own blood. My pride as a dragonlord demands it. If you managed to survive taming Cann—Morghul—then clearly your abilities are not exaggerated. That kind of healing truly is a blessing.”
He smirked when he saw Daemon’s eyes widen at the genuine congratulations.
“So you know the truth,” Daemon said.
Jaehaerys nodded. “If by ‘truth’ you mean Balerion and Morghul being part Elder Dragon, and the fourteen Valyrian gods being fourteen Elder Dragons, then yes. Bonding with a dragon outside your bloodline is an amazing accomplishment. Clearly, your greatness came from me.”
Daemon snorted in mirth.
“I almost expected this,” he said with a disappointed sigh. “I knew you were clever and pragmatic enough. Even so, I’m disappointed. I thought you’d lose your temper, order me around, maybe even try to assert your authority as king. No anger over your orders being violated. Nothing.”
“You’re right, grandson,” Jaehaerys said. “I’m pragmatic enough to see the truth and not waste an opportunity. I don’t give orders I know won’t be followed, or that I can’t enforce. Judging by the news from Dragonstone and the mysterious fires near Cannibal’s lair years ago, that was you. You bonded a dragon years ago and did nothing. You had the golden chance to become king during the council, even with my order to the Starks. You could have flown there and claimed it, and I couldn’t have stopped you. So why didn’t you? Don’t you want to be king?”
Daemon shrugged. “I don’t want to be king, even though I know I must be one someday. But as you must have noticed, I have a long time to achieve that. When I do become king, I don’t want it handed down. If I want something, I will take it myself.”
Jaehaerys’s eyes narrowed at the implication. “A long time?” he whispered. “Are you saying you’re not just looking young like other Valyrians—but that you actually are young?” Even he couldn’t hide the surprise from his voice.
“Yes, Grandfather,” Daemon said. “I’m un-aging. Unless I’m killed—which is a very, very difficult thing to do—I have hundreds of years ahead of me.”
Jaehaerys didn’t know how to respond. He’d known about their Elder Dragon legacy, but seeing his grandson unleash such potential was beyond anything he’d imagined.
He finally composed himself and asked, “So what is it you actually came to inform me? You never said and we went away to other topics.”
Daemon nodded. “Ah yes, we did drift from that. I wished Grandmother were here to hear it too, but I’ll see her reaction later. You can call off the search for your daughter Gael. She came with me. We were married at the Isle of Faces. Aethan Reed officiated and served as witness. Also, don’t worry about the three dragon eggs that went missing. I took them as my dowry.”
Jaehaerys closed his eyes and tried to remain calm, ignoring the slight against his sister-wife.
“Daemon, answer me this—was she willing, or did you force her?”
“Don’t worry, Grandfather. We’ve been in love for years. I was the bard in 98 AC leading one of the groups. I met her in the godswood. We became friends, then lovers. Thanks to Maegor, I could easily move through the Red Keep and Maegor’s Holdfast. Infact, I had to keep her here for years—she was desperate to escape her mother.”
Jaehaerys kept a stony mask. “I see how that happened. Another one of my failures. At least she’ll be safe with you. So you’re going to Essos? On Morghul, I assume?”
“Aye,” Daemon replied.
Jaehaerys thought for a moment and nodded to himself.
“Then I must warn you. You may be safe from direct attacks, but Gael could be targeted, especially with a dragon by her side. It’s not safe for a dragonrider. Be wary of Braavos and the followers of R’hllor. Ever since your father’s death and Baelon’s revenge, Westerosi are hated in the Three Whores. The Faceless Men are restless in Braavos. I’m sure you know much about the Free Cities, but take it seriously. They are far more dangerous than ordinary Lords.”
“I know the situation in the Three whores,” Daemon said after swallowing his surprise at the warning. “But how did you anger Braavos and the Faceless Men?”
“We had an old agreement. No dragons in Essos for war, and no Faceless Men for House Targaryen. I broke that. Since then, I’ve expected attacks, but nothing has come. Still, walking into their lair unknowing would be foolish. I suspect the Faceless Men had a role in forming the Triarchy. Lys was too strong, and a few ‘accidents’ made the alliance possible.”
Daemon looked thoughtful as he grasped the matter at hand. After a pause, he said, “I’ll take it more seriously than I planned. Thank you for the warning. Since you’ve warned me in good faith, I’ll return the favor. I always admired your pragmatism, but calling a Great Council was a fucking mistake. You set a dangerous precedent, that made fools think they have a choice in who sits the Iron Throne. Worse, it will lead to the end of dragons in thirty years.”
He paused.
“I had a vision once. The Dance of Dragons, caused by your choice of king, Viserys Targaryen. A civil war so brutal it let every opportunist crawl from the gutter to try to end the dragons and magic itself. And when I said gutter, I literally meant it. A Flea Bottom idiot who called himself the Shepherd, lead a attack of peasants on the Dragonpit, killing many chained up dragons.
Jaehaerys tried to remain stoic but the matter before him was too serious for him to not feel surprise and then later anger.
“Who dared pit Targaryen against Targaryen?” he asked with cold fury.
Daemon shrugged. “I only know a little. The sons of Viserys and Alicent Hightower on one side, Rhaenyra and Daemon with the Velaryons on the other. Many needed that war, but it was Viserys’s foolishness that pushed it into all-out conflict.”
Jaehaerys processed this and vowed to give Viserys a hard lesson.
Daemon continued. “You should also reduce the Maesters’ influence. Even after your orders in the 80s, they recovered and now work in secret against magic. I confirmed it through warging and greendreams. They use poison, injuries, childbirth, and disease to strike. Many have died this way.”
Every single thought of Jaehaerys come to a still and roar of the Bronze Fury was heard around King’s Landing.
“Tell me, grandson. Did Alyssa, Baelon, Daella—did they fall to the Maesters’ schemes or was it natural?”
“I’ve tried to find out,” Daemon said. “As far as I can tell, Alyssa and Daella weren’t victims. I suspect foul play in Baelon’s case. There’s no history of ‘burst belly’ in our family, and it’s easy to disguise poison that causes those symptoms. Maybe treatment came too late or was ineffective. As for your lost children—at least one was killed because Alysanne was fed a component of moon tea. Viserys’s wife was simply too young to carry a child to term and they didn’t have to do anything. Even if, all are circumstantial, the fact is they have a hidden group of Maesters in Citadel, carefully recruited among their numbers that work to their aims. I can also assure you they’ll use any future war to destroy dragons and their eggs.”
Jaehaerys was silent for a long time before another thought struck him.
“You knew Baelon would die, and you were here in King’s Landing. Yet you did nothing. You could have healed him.” Jaehaerys hissed with accusation.
Daemon shrugged. “I owe you nothing, Grandfather. I wasn’t in King’s Landing. I was in the North, arranging my wedding. I warned those I met. I told Aemon he’d die by crossbow. I told Rhaenys she’d never be queen if she married Corlys.”
Jaehaerys ignored the flimsy excuse as his thoughts raced through various scenarios. He understood his grandson then and there. Daemon was playing God and doing experiments how things could change by his hand or not. He wondered what the actual reason for daemon’s warning is. He wanted to confront daemon here and now, but he decided to bid his time for now.
“People forget what I’ll do to those who harm my blood,” Jaehaerys said coldly. “I’ll make sure this isn’t repeated. My only regret is that I’m too old to see it done myself.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll leave two bottles of my healing potion—one for you and one for your wife. She may need it to survive when she hears Gael ran away with me,” Daemon said with a shrug.
Jaehaerys swallowed a smirk. His suspicions about Daemon’s motivations were confirmed.
“So let me ask one last time,” he said flatly. “You’re taking my sword and my daughter and fucking off to Essos? Is there nothing that’ll make you stay, even for a wedding?”
Daemon shook his head. “No, Grandfather. I’ve taken all I need from King’s Landing. Just clean up our enemies in Westeros. I’ll do what I can in Essos. Isn’t that a fair parting?”
Jaehaerys didn’t protest, even though it infuriated him to let Daemon go with Gael and Blackfyre.
“Aye. I’ll take what I can get,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll send a raven first thing in the morning to Daemon. It is a young man’s work to get our family to Dragonstone immediately for a family meeting. One last thing—have you seen anyone else using the secret tunnels?”
Daemon looked curious at the mention of a family meeting but didn’t ask.
“Some servants used them to move about. I also dealt with two spies and their would-be master of whisperers.”
“Thank you, Daemon,” Jaehaerys said. “Now go. I need my sleep.”
Daemon smirked as he rose. “As you command, Your Grace.” He bowed dramatically, sheathed Blackfyre, and turned to the balcony. He took one step slowly and then sprinted towards it.
Jaehaerys almost cried out a warning before remembering who this is, but even still he was surprised as his grandson used the balcony rails as a stepping stone for jumping in to the air. Daemon soared higher than any man should, then plummeted, vanishing from Jaehaerys sight. Several heartbeats passed before the sound of wingbeats echoed through the chamber. The massive form of Morghul rose from below and flew off into the night.
“You showed too much of your hand, grandson,” Jaehaerys almost whispered before stopping himself as he remembered Daemon’s warging. He glanced around and wondered how many rats or animals Daemon had left behind to listen.
==============================================
Daemon Snow
“That was fun,” I whispered as I held onto one of Morghul’s horns, leaving the King’s chamber behind. I kept an eye on the King through my warg animals, but Jaehaerys simply ordered the Kingsguard to send a letter to the Vale, after waking him by pouring water on his face, summoning Daemon the Younger, There was no mention of anything else.
I smiled at that. The meeting had gone far more amicably than I had planned. I had truly underestimated how pragmatic my grandfather was. I found myself curious about the upcoming meeting and decided I had to attend, just to see what it was about.
After flying for almost half an hour, we reached the cave where I had left Gael with Fenrir.
I could feel the bonds connecting me to Fenrir, Morghul, and Gael. It was draining me for now, but the strain was lessening as my body adapted. I was truly happy to have solved the loneliness I once believed I’d have to leave this world to escape.
“Thank you, Morghul,” I whispered as I landed on the ground after jumping from his back.
“It is always good to fly together, Daemon,” Morghul replied instantly. “Even though I’m disappointed the bronze one didn’t attack me. You know it has been some time since I had dragon meat.”
I grinned. “I’m glad it didn’t come to slaughter. It would have affected my plans.”
I entered the cave and saw Gael sleeping on Fenrir. A head, the size of both my thighs put together, rose from the ground to observe me and check whether I was alright.
“I’m alright, Fenrir,” I whispered as I lay down beside Gael and wrapped an arm around her.
======================
“Daemon.”
My thoughts were interrupted as Gael called from behind while I was tending to meat on the fire.
“Aye, Gael,” I replied without turning.
Gael growled. “Don’t just ‘aye’ me, Daemon, and leave it at that. How did the meeting with my father go?”
“It was a nice meeting, Gael. Nothing to worry about. He didn’t even try to order me around after realizing I bonded with Morghul,” I said with a grin.
Gael looked relieved and glanced around the camp. Her eyes locked on the hilt of the sword lying near me.
“Daemon, please tell me that is not Blackfyre. Tell me it’s a replica,” Gael said in horror.
“No can do, my love. It is Blackfyre. Since the current King isn’t a fighter anymore and the future one is a wimp, I thought I could put it to better use in Essos. Your father was surprisingly agreeable.”
Gael cursed loudly. After a storm of swearing, she sighed and reined in her frustration, which only made my grin wider.
“When are we leaving for Essos, and how?” Gael asked.
“I thought it would be better to go in disguise. I’ve already made arrangements with an Essosi merchant. Morghul can follow us on his own. We’ll have a pleasant voyage to Dragonstone, where we’ll stop for three days.”
“Why are we stopping at Dragonstone?” she asked.
“Well, it seems your father is calling a family meeting there to deal with our matter and share some of the things I revealed to him. You’re not the only one who has visions that help set traps. Though mine will never be a honeypot, my sweet honeypot,” I said, even though I had to stop myself from cringing.
“Trap?” Gael sputtered. “Honeypot? What honeypot?” She frowned, thinking.
I saw the exact moment she understood why it was called a honeypot. She moved to hit me in embarrassment, and I just laughed.
“There’s another matter. I thought you might like to tame a dragon,” I said nonchalantly.
Gael’s eyes widened before she yelled, “Yes!”
“Well, we could try Sheepstealer,” I said.
“Why Sheepstealer exactly?” Gael asked.
“Well, as far as I know, Sheepstealer could give even Vhagar a good fight now. He’s consumed so much of my blood and grew stronger after each fight with Morghul during the taming process.”
Gael’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and she hugged me in thanks.
“Hey, hey, promise the rewards later. Let’s see what Sheepstealer does. He’s got an attitude now, ever since becoming my friend.”
“Friend?” Gael murmured with a bewildered look.
I just grinned mysteriously.
=================================
Authors note: finally the meeting between the king and grandson. Excited to see how it is received by all. More than that really looking forward to see how chp 39 and 40 will be received which is the first chapters ever written in ads as I thought I will start the story in 101 AC and later changed my mind seeing as building up to it will be more entertaining for reading. Just re-read the 12 k words and it needs serious re-editing and some other corrections as there were some changes in background details…
Comments
the batman
thanks!! daemon didn't say anything abt long night because it is too far away and jae is at his end... there is nothing he can do that could be very important to contribute to that fight... convincing someone so pragmatic/realistic that every thing that he has done to establish house targ in westeros is at the end of the day almost meaningless because of some ice monsters 200 years away is foolhardy.... more than that daemon wants jae to deal with the internal threats as much as possible.... as for daemon, he doesn't care one way or another.. he gave an opportunity to jae to make sure viserys not make the same mistakes, but at this point daemon is sure that, canon will happen if daemon didn't actively involve with it to stop it.... look at everything else.. he warned aemon, rhaneys and still canon happened... viserys knew about the healing potions and yet he didn't send daemon targyen to get it from cregan stark... so that canon could happen...
the batman
welcome..... imo, many writers confuse caring for realm with caring for house targaryen as a whole... in canon jae did most things that maintained the superiority of house targ while compromising where possible... he really didn't care for the realm more than how much it affected house targs position and image...
Christian Mordal
Thanks for the chapter. Its nice seeing jaeherys being caring for his family. In most fanfics he only cares about the realm.
FireKing500
Why did Daemon not tell Jaehaerys about the Long Night as that he is preparing the North for when they return? Also would you have Daemon’s blood remarry into the Starks (a Mormont could marry the heir of Winterfell) and he could show up on their wedding or the day their children are born? Can’t wait to see the meeting of the Targaryens. Will Daemon stop the Dance or he won’t really care? Loved the meeting between grandfather and grandson.
