[Chapter Size: 2400 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Winterfell.
...
...
Daemon began to read the letter.
To Daemon Snow, the bastard who invaded the North with 180,000 wildlings, claiming to be heir to the throne, but only a bastard with foolish ideas, born from a mind full of fantasy...
Just that made Daemon open an amused smile at the sequence of words he would read next.
You are accused of the crimes of raising an army against the king's order and the stability of the realms, of bringing wildlings to the civilized population of Westeros. You may be doing well there in the North, as the letters are affirming your victories across the territories, but do not forget that your crimes are against all the Seven Kingdoms. It was not enough that House Stark had turned against the crown, you have already been committing crimes even before appearing with an army.
Accused of killing King Robert Baratheon, as well as the attempted assassination of King Joffrey in the square with an arrow, you are also accused of theft of the Iron Throne, as well as stealing the royal treasury and also murdering countless people.*
This first message seemed to be quite formal, nothing far from what he had done, merely showing the facts. It was probably the maester of the Red Keep who had written this.
And still, there was no mention of the dragon... Did they still believe that? Surely letters from farther north should have reached King's Landing.
And the second part, when Daemon continued reading, showed emotion in the writing, and a rather uncontrolled emotion, as if he were reading what a rabid dog had written. If Daemon believed that such a thing could not exist, he was mistaken at that moment as he looked at the letter. A part of the letter written by none other than Joffrey, the bastard king.
*I know you did something to my mother. She does not want to speak, but admitted that you went into her room after you had stolen our coffers. She is sick in some way, whatever kind of witchcraft you did to her.
So listen well, you bastard, it does not matter if you brought your wildling dogs from beyond the Wall and now must be taking Winterfell. Then mark my words, I swear, bastard, that you will regret from the day your whore of a mother put you into this world, bastard.
I will execute you personally, tear your head off while I watch your body burn and place it on a spike so that, in the future, people will look at your head and think: 'the bastard who tried to defy King Joffrey Baratheon and ended up being killed for his foolishness.'
The Seven Kingdoms will know the fool who thought he could fight against me. But I will make one thing very clear, bastard: you will be destroyed like all my enemies before. I will ensure that all the wildlings from the Wall are punished and regret having come south.
I will also execute the Targaryen whore who is with you, just as my father did with her brother. So come south, so that I may have the pleasure of killing you.
Signed, Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms.
Daemon finished reading the letter and smiled.
"What I see in the letter is only a spoiled child. Did you defeat all your enemies, or did you hide behind the walls while men fought for you?" Daemon mocked.
The ghost materialized at his side. His mother also read the letter.
"He called me a whore! Who does that bastard think he is?" Lyanna snarled in fury after reading the letter floating behind Daemon.
"What do you think I should do with a guy like that, mother?" Daemon asked, finding the situation amusing. He did not care about the insults, they were only words.
And knowing what kind of boy this bastard was after he had met him in King's Landing, he was nothing more than a coward in the end, one who would piss himself the moment he saw Daemon before him. He could be cruel, but he had no capacity to do anything, not even against a common man, on his own... What kind of king is that?
Barristan Selmy had said that the boy with the crown trembled as soon as his sword was drawn, only to throw it to the ground shortly after he lost his post, while the king thought the legendary knight would fight. Just the idea of it made him shudder at the time.
"What more could be expected from this boy?" Daemon murmured... "I bet this was not Tywin Lannister's idea." Daemon commented, looking at the letter. It had already been said that Tywin had taken the post of Hand of the King. He was practically controlling King's Landing and preparing to fight against Daemon in the North now that he had the Tyrells at his side and all enemies defeated in the south.
As the old lion did not seem to act in this way, probably, enraged by the news from the North, Joffrey must have secretly asked the maester to write this letter, dictating his last threatening words.
Meanwhile, the fool did not seem to understand that this would not make Daemon fear him. Quite the opposite, it was only to provoke mockery. With every word, Daemon only felt more desire to confront the young bastard king and see if he could sustain those threats face to face.
"What will you do? Daemon, I would say you should give that Joffrey Baratheon a beating."
"He is a bastard, mother. Son of Jaime Lannister and not of your pursuer, Robert Baratheon."
"Either way... It is nothing we should worry about now. He is only a foolish boy from the south, thinking he will dictate rules. But this is temporary. By the time we begin to march, he will run like a frightened little girl before we even reach his gates. And then I will deal with him properly, make him regret saying each of those insults." Daemon spoke with a tone full of threat and power.
He would not let the nonsense the boy was speaking affect him now, but that did not mean he would not take vengeance later.
Daemon took the letter and made it burn in his hands, while it disappeared with the ashes mixing into the air.
There were other letters as well, one from Tywin Lannister in fact, which Daemon did not find very amusing. The old man merely asked him to surrender and that they would enter into negotiation. Certainly this showed fear from the old lion, the same, only a bit more cautious than the grandson who tried to provoke. He must have known about the dragon Daemon had, and was surely cautious, but avoided showing it in the letter.
Daemon could see the old man's mind working in schemes. It was no wonder he had been behind the attempt to assassinate Robb Stark and his mother at the Twins, along with dozens of northern lords. Now, however, his strike had backfired. Robb was alive — or at least seemed to be — since the young wolf had become a hollow shell after learning that his son was dead, thanks to the Westerling family.
He had lost his confidence along with the armies of the North and was coming to Winterfell after leaving Moat Cailin, together with other lords who had survived at the Twins.
Daemon would also deal with the Freys. What they had done was unforgivable, but first he wanted to announce it to everyone in the North before launching an attack.
Daemon took a parchment and began to write with the quill in the inkwell. He would do something similar to what the bastard had written to him. Daemon did not spare words and called him a bastard many times in the letter. Then, he began to write some magical runes with his blood from a small cut on his finger, so that the letter would transmit the feeling of fear to whoever read it, along with the threats he had recorded there.
He would love to see the face of Joffrey, Tywin, and even Cersei when they read the letter. There were more names in Daemon's sights, but they would be left for another time. The Tyrells were with the Lannisters and would pay for it. The Martells also seemed to be plotting something, but Daemon could not know from Winterfell.
In any case, Daemon finished the letter and called the maester, who soon arrived.
"Your Majesty called me? I was helping the craftsmen finish some details of the model of the North," said the man.
Daemon stared at him with a calm look, while the maester noticed that something was wrong.
"Your Majesty... did something happen?" he asked carefully.
"Tell me exactly when was the last letter you sent to King's Landing. Tell me when." Daemon spoke calmly, while the maester turned pale.
"You told me you had not sent any letter, but I do not believe you. I received a letter today from the king, which you yourself saw, directed to me. It has only been a few days since I took Winterfell, and for a letter to arrive here it should take at least a week, two to go and return... So what makes me think is that you had already sent this letter while we were still in the middle of the campaign in the North, invading the Hornwood and Cerwyn territory. Then they could already know your numbers and how you were acting." Daemon finished speaking and waited for the old man to answer.
"My king... I had no choice but to send word about the situation. It was Ramsay Bolton who asked me to do it, and if I hadn't, I would be dead, Your Majesty," said the old man, his voice full of fear.
"Snow, Maester. Snow. Ramsay Snow. He is a bastard. The one who named him Bolton was another bastard. And House Bolton is now extinct. It is only a matter of time. There will be no more Boltons walking the earth after him," Daemon said with a cruel tone, while the maester trembled.
"Of course, Your Majesty... and what about me? Will I be executed?" he asked, consumed by fear.
"No, I will not kill you, since you did this while we were taking the North. However, I prefer that you tell me the truth from the beginning. Next time you lie to me again, no matter how trivial it may be, you will regret it, maester," Daemon said, while the man trembled, unable to meet his eyes.
"Now you may go. Just make sure they make the model correctly," Daemon said. "And now I want you to send this letter to King's Landing, addressed to Joffrey and his grandfather." Daemon placed the two sealed letters in front of the table. The man in gray robes took them before leaving.
In the end, he was left alone, with his mother materializing again.
"You cannot trust a maester, Daemon. I realized that before the rebellion," Lyanna said.
"I know. And that is why I killed a good number of them when I visited Oldtown, as I told you after discovering they were behind many things in the rebellion..." Daemon replied, while Lyanna nodded.
There were also letters from the western part of the northern kingdom. The special group he had summoned along with Ghost and the other direwolves had failed to find Asha Greyjoy and were returning to Winterfell... Daemon knew everything that was happening, as he was controlling Ghost at various times of the day. Asha had vanished from the North. Perhaps she was already heading to Pyke with those ships that were fleeing.
Aside from that, the operations in the West had begun driving most of the ironborn from the coast, while 500 Tallhart soldiers and Tormund with 5,000 free folk continued leading their men, both fighting against the last resistance of the ironborn.
Two more days passed since the letter, and Daemon was flying with Winter, as he did every two days for the she-dragon to satisfy her will to fly with her rider. She may have been stubborn at first, but she had become quite loyal since they met and demanded Daemon's presence every day, though he could manage to attend to her every two days.
Daemon landed with Winter, while she finally lowered her wings, and he dismounted from her back, landing in the nest and beginning to step away. His mother materialized at that moment, looking at the dragon who also seemed to feel something, perhaps through the connection Daemon had with her.
"Rhaegar would be so proud of you for becoming the first dragonrider after so long..." Lyanna said as she gazed at Winter.
"If you say so..." Daemon only said that; he did not seem to care much whether his dead father was proud or not. He did not care much at all.
Lyanna said nothing, knowing that Daemon was like that, not that she could blame him. He had become very indifferent to most things, given all he had been through and all the horrors and battles he had witnessed. He was a hardened man, more than any other.
In any case, she had a message. "Winterfell seemed a little stirred, so I went there, and there are scouts from the south. Your men have arrived, Daemon," she said.
"Finally, I think things will start to get lively," Daemon said, taking his horse nearby where he had left it. Winterfell had been growing a bit tedious, and the arrival of the southern group seemed very welcome.
He went to Winterfell, being awaited by his men, and Daemon wasted no time ordering the castle to be prepared for his guests.
The first people to arrive at the newly conquered fortress were none other than Ygritte and Val, two of his wives, with Val commanding the free folk. Then came the banners of Lord Cerwyn and Lord Tallhart along with their men and the crowd of free folk behind them, with them none other than Lady Dustin, who arrived as a noble prisoner, destined to share the same space with Theon Greyjoy in the dungeons of Winterfell.
Daemon waited for them to pass through the gate. He was in the courtyard as the lord of Winterfell, nothing less at that moment.
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