Chapter Text
Daemon glided his finger, dipping into the small gap that not healed into his ear, an unsightly thing which he hoped would not ruin his looks.
Still, many respect a good war scar…
He waited by the docks of the newly captured harbour; an honour guard waiting to greet Corlys’ arrival to the island after the raid from three days ago, all that had been left since the island was to burn away those he sought to resist them.
The air was warm, perhaps it was because they were close to Dorne or maybe the sun seemed to burn brighter and warmer the further south you go. It did not bother Daemon, he had faced more intense heat from his dragon, to him it was child’s play. Though the sweat on the brow of some of the men suggested that others were not.”
The Sea Snake, the large galley pulled onto the dock, a long line of men dressed in sea-green with the silver seahorse stood stiff carrying spears and banners as a plank was placed from the galley onto the dock. Corlys had all the air of a conqueror; hands behind his back and head held high, dressed in his gleaming armour.
He walks like Aegon the conqueror, yet it was MY plan that won us this victory.
And it will be MY plan that wins us this war.
Daemon could feel his anger bubbling in the surface, he held it back, close to his heart.
No matter… I hold the goodwill of many, my men and those in court, with this I can demand more from him. So much more…
“Prince Daemon.” Corlys said, a thin smile on his lips “I must congratulate you on this victory, I have underestimated you; when they call you ‘the Good’ they must include your abilities and your nature.”
“Your words are far too kind, my Lord.” Daemon spoke. “I am only thankful that all the men under my command are still alive.”
“This is a victory for the ages, they will sing of it long after we are gone.”
“Mayhaps but I have another victory that will hopefully eclipse even this.” Daemon said.
“Ah yes, we have much to discuss, the attack that will be the dagger into the hearts of the Triarchy.” Corlys smiled “Lead me to the manse, we have much to discuss.”
The Master's manse had undergone some changes since the attack; the once luxurious home of the city’s master had now been made into where they would organise the magisters’ downfall. The windows had been boarded up, the furniture was taken, either for use or as the personal treasures of those fortunate to arrive first.
Now it was filled with creates, barrels, weapons and larder for their armies, a rush of men and servants rushing in and out of the manse, all under the command of Criston Cole. Though Daemon at least thankful they kept the former Master’s solar intact for their use. As they arrived to the solar, Criston had occupied himself with managing the new garrison.
“Prince Daemon, Lord Corlys.” He said, bowing his head, an array of parchment, maps and books on the desk.
“Admiral, it is goof to see you are well.” Corlys said, extending his hand to the knight who took it. “You and the Prince had won a great victory.”
Daemon could not help careful watch Criston face when he received praise from Corlys; the smile Criston presented had the air of a mummer’s act.
That night plays on him.
“You are far too kind, my Lord, I live to serve.” Criston said. “Please allow me to explain you on our current situation, if I may, my Prince.” He said, eyes glancing over to Daemon who nodded his head. “Thanks to our victory we were able to capture a number of galleys from the enemy for our use, it has also been made known to myself that the Princess Rhaenys was able to capture a few more ships from the Triarchy’s attempts to break the blockade; we have what we need to craft a tale to those enemy forces in Tyrosh.”
“Perfect.”
Daemon gathered a few wooden ships on the map “Once we send off those messages that a brave number of galleys and ships was able to momentarily break free from the blockade, they will no doubt welcome the brave fleet with open arms.” Daemon spoke “The Triarchy will be desperate for a victory against us, to show to all that they can overcome the dragons, not knowing that they have welcomed the instrument of their own demise.”
Criston nodded his head “We fill the galleys will barrels of wildfire, making sure the ships land in as many docks in the main harbour of the city.” Pointing at the ships. “This is where they are gather most of their ships, once the men aboard light the barrels on fire then our attack commences and sack the city.”
Daemon smiled, he had taken the idea for this from the book the Imposter had given to Laenor and Laena from their visit all those years ago.
A wooden horse into the city becomes a few ships into the harbour.
“The enemy fleet currently docked, that is the one they plan t use to launch their counterattack?” Corlys asked.
“That is what we predict.”
“Destroying their new fleet and the harbour would be like breaking their arms.” Corlys took away the ships “With Dorne no longer entertaining ideas of an alliance with them, this will be the last vestiges of their strength.”
"A fine feat of work by the Hand." Criston said.
"All for a price." Corlys replied.
Daemon fought back the urge to roll his eyes, the news had not surprised him, it was typical of that greedy green bastard; using his station to enrich himself, forcing the lords in a corner to hand an island to his sons, and one so conveniently near to both Oldtown, Sunspear, the Narrow sea and the Three Cities.
“I propose we let slip a message that we plan to assault that harbour.” Daemon suggested “We ‘tell’ them how we plan on using everything available resource we have in an effort to capture the city and force them to surrender, and make it sound as though we are desperate for a final victory.”
“Our enemies will seek to draw in more ships from Myr and Lys.” Criston observed “Leaving their other capitals potentially more vulnerable, I propose that Myr be the other target.” He placed ships on their side on both capitals “We could launch further attacks, at the same time, Myr is nearest capital.”
“An ambitious target.” Daemon commented “It would also sow confusion within their ranks; whatever ships they have already sailed will be torn between coming to the aid of either in this case.”
Corlys smiled “Such a thing would humiliate them; two capitals of the Triarchy attacked, one of them rendered asunder under fire? They would no longer dare to stand against us, it would be a total victory.”
“And a devastating defeat for them.” Criston said “I would predict that the Triarchy would collapse in a matter of years, the infighting among their nobles in their councils is bad enough.”
“Excellent, the Iron throne will have complete control over the Narrow sea.”
You mean yourself, Sea Snake?
“I would be happy to lead the attack on Tyrosh, seeing as the assault on the city will be my plan.” Daemon said “I am also happy to lend the strength of Runestone to an assault on Myr if needed and perhaps I could gain further secrets for our attack.” Mentioning the service of Mysaria without uttering her name.
“Excellent.”
“Though I will require a favour to ask in such a case.” He smiled and Corlys shook his head but grinned back, Daemon knew that despite his bravado, Corlys was dependent on his dragon rider allies in this war to bring him a swift victory.
“Name it.” Willing to accommodate him
“I hear that Myr is capable of producing glass, well renown for it’s quality.” Daemon said “I imagine that after this conflict they will be ‘hesitant’ to the Seven Kingdoms, so I propose that the men of Runestone launch an assault on Myr and capture what secrets they can.”
“You would desire Runestone have the ability to create glass, my Prince? Your house would be an extremely wealthy one.” Criston observed.
Daemon chuckled, no doubt having control over glass would secure his sons’ power and wealth, his family would be without rival, without other envious houses trying to steal their ideas.
Not even the damned Tyrells could mimic that…
Yet Daemon knew of the other reason, even if he tried to ignore it, to push it back into the pit with the imposter. Yet he could not escape it; that vision he saw, the blue eyes in the snow storms and a chill that never ceased. If he hoped to change such a future, he would need the North, that meant something to bargain with those northerners with.
“Indeed, we would.” Daemon agreed “Though I am not greedy as the magisters, I would cut deals with our allies, I would not bleed houses dry for their desire to build glass houses for winter crops.”
If you could see this imposter, I am sure you would thank me for this.
“So long as my House can purchase glass at a rate cheaper than others I will be more than happy to aid you in your endeavour.” Corlys said. “I shall bring this up with Otto the next time the three of us meet, you shall have my backing on the matter.”
Otto…
Daemon did not know how he would act when he would finally have the chance to meet him in person once more. Oh he remembered it all; the memories of his other life, how the man had turned to undermine his each step and leach power from them when he could, a parasite that hung from them. Yet here and now, this could not reconcile with the memories of this life; the Lord-Hand that supported his work, supported him, the Otto whom even joined with Daemon to keep the very man who stood in front of him in check while they worked in the council.
Perhaps I may have to swallow mine out contempt for you... or not.
Daemon felt his chest ache, his face tensed in an attempt to mask the pain that tried to reveal itself on his face.
Silence, I shall not be allies with that cunt, let alone friends with him; he may yet gain what he desires but I shall become an instrument to his machinations.
“Forgive me, my Prince, Lord Corlys, but I do believe we are getting carried away with what may become rather than what we currently face.” Criston said “While we do have the plans, what we lack is the information to mount such attacks; we have some knowledge of Tyrosh, yet not of Myr.”
“Worry not, admiral.” Daemon assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder, placing weight upon it. “That you can leave to myself, I have already asked one of the men to send a raven back to the capital the night of this island’s capture.”
“You very own mistress of whispers.” Corlys commented. “One that is in bed with the enemy.”
“The very one that provided myself with the map layout and directions to the Master’s office to launch our surprise attack.” Daemon pointed out, “And the enemy in question is one being constantly moved around the Narrow sea, away from the battlefield.”
We might as well make use of the spy you had threaten, Corlys.
“When can we expect her arrival?” Corlys asked.
“It may be some time before she arrives from King’s Landing, I would hope possibly less than a month travel and that does not include her having to contact her own informants.” Daemon said “Yet I have asked she prepare information regarding the defences around the three capitals of the Triarchy, we shall have our answers soon enough.”
It had been a further month, Daemon had taken to patrolling the waters around the sea, burning or hunting the few galleys that dared tried to reach them, trying to feel as though he was still making a difference in this war, that he was bringing it closer to an end.
Caraxes had landed onto the coastline, taking his rest as Daemon took in the view from of the calm. Images of Baelor and Rhaegal played on his mind.
Everyday I had to watch you grow up behind a wall of glass… soon I shall hold you both in my arms…
He thought of Rhea and their new child…
Likely she’ll be showing by now, Gods you must be bored senseless…
I shall keep your promise to my grandmother, Imposter… should it be a girl then she will be named Gael…
“My Prince.” A voice called to him, he turned to see a man dressed in Royce colours greet him. “The Lady Mysaria has arrived.”
“Good, it is time we finally met again.” He spoke, the man bowed his head and escorted him to the manse.
A guard stood by the door leading into the guest room, two ladies dressed in fine dresses left, bowing their heads at him. As he entered the room he found Mysaria sat upon a small chair, a table next to her with a cup and plate of sweetmeats near her. She was dressed in a fine blue silk dress that hugged her body. And pregnant stomach.
She turned her head “Daemon…” she beamed by his sight.
Daemon smiled back at her, the memory of the life he could have had flashed in his mind; in another life she was the one whom carried his child. The child that was lost to them due to his brother.
“Mysaria…” he walked towards her, there was a thought at the back of his mind to kiss her, a pain surfaced in his chest at the thought, one that he once more banished inwards. Yet he knew better than to act on it.
She loves that Tyroshi lord… and I-
He shut his eyes and lowered himself to embrace her, wrapping his arms around her. Wondering about the times that may had been this close in another life.
“It is good to see you again, dear friend.” She said, the smile on her lips faded “I had heard about Cley… the Gods can be so cruel.”
“He should be home now, in Runestone.” Daemon assured her “I will ensure he and his family are taken care of.” Mysaria nodded her head, sucking on her lips as tears welled in her eyes.
“Gods, forgive me for crying.” She said, wiping away the tears from her eyes “I had hoped to see you both.”
“He would have loved to see you too.”
“I had heard he was the one to call you ‘The Good.’” She giggled, Daemon laughed and nodded his head.
“How is Ollo?” he asked.
“He is well, at least I hope so…” Mysaria said “Gods I was terrified when the Velaryons had seized the Gallows, I had thought he and his men died before I received word of their escape to Tyrosh.”
“Is that where he is?”
Mysaria nodded “I am planning on forging some papers ordering him and his men to head to the mainland before your attack on the capital.” She frowned “No doubt it will hurt him to know he was not there for the battle but…” she looked to him, in her eyes was caution. And fear. “You are not planning a battle. You plan for an ambush, a slaughter.”
Daemon nodded his head “We plan to end this war with one last blow, to do that… I will break them against me, I will shatter their pride.”
“War has made you harsher, Daemon.” She looked away, taking her cup and drinking it. “I can only hope my husband returns to be as he left me.”
A thought crossed Daemon’s mind, one that he did not want to consider. But one he needed to know.
“Hopefully this will be the last time he will be moved.” Daemon said, a farce of a smile decorating his lips “It is dull traveling at sea, I don’t know how Corlys can do it, this will be the third? Fourth time now?”
“The fourth time.” She replied, the Mysaria of his other life would have picked up on the question. Yet here, now, she trusted him completely.
“It will make for dull stories to tell your children, how their father fought one battle and sailed the Stepstones and sea avoiding the war.” He laughed, Mysaria glared at him for the jest in her husband’s expense “But he will be alive, that is all that matters.”
“Glory and stories be damned, Daemon.” She declared “I wish only for those I care about to survive this war.”
He nodded his head, his face the image of calm. “And we shall.” He leaned forward “But for us to end this war, for Ollo to return to you sooner and for myself to return to Rhea and my sons sooner… we need to defeat the Magisters.”
Mysaria shut her eyes, reaching to her side and pulling out a roll of parchment “This is what my spies in Tyrosh and Myr were able to gather.” She handed him the parchment, Daemon took it from her hand “There is open talk about launching a great fleet to retake the Stepstones, yet in secret the captains talk of a need to protect the city from an attack.” She looked back at him “They expect you to strike; they have placed defences in the harbour, should you or the Princess Rhaenys fly your dragon then it may mean you death.”
Daemon grinned reach from ear to ear “It is as I had thought, but we are ready for that.” He placed the parchment close to his chest “Rest assured I shall not die on those shores, I will have victory.”
Mysaria laughed silently and shook her head “I do not think someone known as ‘The Good’ she be so glad to go to battle, a change from the man who worked so hard with myself for peace.”
“I have saved my men from death, led them to a victory which they all share and will now end this war, that is without mentioned the many achievements before.” He laughed.
“Daemon ‘The Proud’ you have become.” Mysaria laughed.
“Oh I am still a humble man in service to my king, the realm, my family and lady wife.”
“And which one takes precedence?”
“Truly must I say, I am… a Leal servant.” He jested, Mysaria laughed heartily.
The two spend the rest of the evening talking, reminiscing over their time in the capital and about the progress of the establishment of healers in the city.
“The people know you are the one who urged for more money to the healers guild.” She said, taking a sip of tea “They love you for it, many sing your praises… some of my ladies have taken to naming their sons after you.”
Daemon laughed “Perhaps I may run into one of these many Daemons.” His eyes wondered to her stomach. “Have you thought of names?”
“Oh Gods, I had thought of them long ago.” She said “Tyanna for a girl, after Ollo’s mother.”
“And if it is a boy?”
She smiled at him “It had taken him some convincing but… I would name him ‘Daemon.’ Daemon smiles and yet his heart shatters into a thousand pieces.
You will not forgive me…
He feels a burning sensation in his chest, one he tries to push down… yet one that persists and persists stubbornly, never relenting. He leans forward in his chair. Mysaria almost rushes to his side when he raises his hand to her “No… I am fine.” He beats back the rage, the guilt, the anger and sorrow from the imposter; he could feel him clawing his way back.
No.
The dark hands that gripped the can only hold him back this time. Like a drowning man clinging to jagged rocks for dear life against the storm. He composes himself when he feels the imposter no longer fighting back, yet still the sorrow prickled in his chest, working its way to his lips “I… I am- I would be honoured.” He spoke, his voice breaking slightly.
He felt his resolve waiver… how desperately he wanted to keep her secrets, to turn a blind eye to what she had said. To the knowledge that kept the one she loved safe.
And yet.
If I was able to learn of this, then who is to say that a captain or master could not? Who is to say that a quartermaster looking over ship movements learn of this?
In his mind, the scene played of the son his niece had in another life, Jacaerys and his dragon Vermax slain by nets and arrows and left to the sea, a victory for the Triarchy against their family.
I shall not suffer such a fate… I shall not die, I shall not suffer defeat… those under my command will survive.
“One day… you may have to pick your duty to others over your duty to those you love.”
Oh how right you were, Good-father…