[Chapter Size: 3100 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Winterfell.
...
...
The baby's cry filled the room as Daenerys finally let out a sigh of relief after enduring six hours of labor.
Even with those wooden creatures glowing with a radiant light around her, frightening the midwives and the maester while helping her the entire time, she was still exhausted. The Springers summoned by Daemon had been healing her body throughout the whole process, so it had not been a deadly childbirth. The creatures had ensured that. Even so, she almost wanted to fall asleep, and she would have if not for the cry of the baby who had just come out of her.
"Here, my king." Daenerys lifted her head with an almost desperate movement to see her son being handed over to Daemon.
After being cleaned by one of the midwives, the baby was placed into Daemon's arms. He held him gently before breaking into a broad smile as the baby gradually began to calm down.
Daenerys immediately wanted to see the child, but she couldn't from that angle. And judging by the satisfied smile on Daemon's face, she wanted to see him even more.
"Daemon..." she said weakly.
Daemon kissed the boy on the forehead before turning back to her. There was a fatherly glow in his eyes, something Daenerys had never seen before, naturally.
He approached the bed and placed the child beside her while the midwives began changing all the bed sheets without making her leave the bed.
Daenerys cared about nothing except looking at the son she could finally see, wrapped in that infant cloth. The baby blinked slowly while still letting out tiny cries. He had vivid violet eyes like his father's and completely white hair like hers, bearing the full Valyrian appearance.
He was her baby, her son with Daemon.
The youngest Targaryen in their family. At last, a new light for House Targaryen.
He was nothing less than... a promise for the future.
"Ha... Aegon..." Daenerys whispered.
She immediately embraced him, taking all the care in the world not to hold him too tightly. The boy looked at her, letting out tiny whimpers. He seemed uncomfortable and curious as she smiled and began kissing him over and over.
"He's so beautiful, Daemon... So beautiful..." she said tenderly.
Daemon knelt beside them, gently running his hand through Daenerys's hair while keeping his eyes fixed on Aegon.
"Yes... Our son. A dragon whom all the kingdoms will remember as the first of our house to be born after it reclaimed its rightful place and began restoring its dynasty..." Daemon said, completely satisfied.
As he had promised, the moment Daenerys's water broke, the ghost who was always with her, already sensing that the baby was about to be born, sent a signal to Daemon...
Daemon abandoned everything he was doing at the Wall. He immediately mounted his ice dragon and flew to Winterfell as fast as possible, arriving in a short time and remaining by her side ever since.
After some time, as the baby began crying again for food, Daenerys nursed him. Daemon introduced the boy to the rest of the Stark family.
At that moment, only the girls were present, along with Rickon, since Robb had returned to the Wall to organize the armies of the North. Bran also remained occupied, using his greensight to constantly watch beyond the Wall for the advance of the army of the dead while monitoring information throughout the realm south of the North.
Daemon had also already assigned some positions on the Small Council.
No one had yet been granted the title of Hand of the King.
The office of Grand Maester was already being filled by Marwyn.
Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was undoubtedly Barristan Selmy, although he likely did not have another decade of service left and should begin preparing a successor.
Mance had been appointed Master of Laws.
Stannis resumed his position as Master of Ships, just as he had served during his brother's reign.
Bran officially received his position as Master of Whisperers, as he had already been serving.
He still needed to choose a Master of Coin, as well as a Hand of the King...
But that was not important right now.
In the end, he needed to find someone competent enough to understand and be capable of managing the new financial system Daemon intended to implement throughout Westeros. After all, he wanted to change the tax system.
In any case, meetings at the Wall were held constantly, and Daemon excused himself from them for a week to spend time with his wife and newborn heir in Winterfell.
Daenerys returned to flying with Daemon a few days after resting. For the first time, she made her maiden flight riding Nyx after Daemon had prepared her a little more aboard Viridrax. She finally took to the skies, and the black dragon soared above Winterfell, whose lands were now blanketed in snow with the arrival of winter.
When Daemon saw that everything was fine, he returned to the Wall. He was soon greeted by many people.
Everyone already knew of the heir's birth, and it immediately gave the realm a sense of continuity—that it would endure even after Daemon's death. A king without an heir was a kingdom without a future; that was the belief of every lord in Westeros. Even though Daenerys would still remain, and the idea of Daemon ever being killed was highly unlikely, having a son was something that made the realm breathe much more easily.
It was no surprise that Robb had been married for one moon and had already gotten his wife pregnant. Val was in the early stages of her pregnancy in Winterfell. Fierce as she was, Val was still afraid while carrying their child, and Daemon had no objection to having her remain somewhere safe while they fought in the North.
Daemon left some of the Free Folk's most capable men in Winterfell to protect his heir and the others. He also made sure that there was no one with a dark aura inside the castle. Many people had arrived from the south over the past few moons, and some of them certainly did not have good intentions.
Daemon conducted a complete sweep before leaving Winterfell. He managed to capture fifteen suspicious individuals with black and red auras. He left it to his men to investigate their origins and objectives. Daemon told them to show no mercy, even if they appeared innocent, because their auras did not lie about their intentions or feelings.
Since he could not remain in Winterfell all the time, he had the direwolves to protect his family. Ghost and the others patrolled both the surroundings and the interior of Winterfell, ready to attack at the slightest hostile sign or scent directed toward Daemon's wife and son.
It was no secret that, as they investigated the prisoners, they discovered that some truly intended to harm him, driven by revenge. Even though Daemon himself was not worried about people trying something against him, those around him could still be hurt.
There were still remnants from the Iron Islands, followers of the Faith of the Seven who saw him as a demon, others who followed the High Sparrow, as it had become a new Faith Militant, as well as some men from the Westerlands, the Reach, and Dorne. The latter were even more understandable, since Dorne still harbored a deep desire for revenge against Daemon, and the kingdom was well known for that.
In any case, it did not bother him much at the Wall, where many of those people had appeared as well. He left his men to deal with those situations.
Bran remained vigilant, using his greensight to inform him of any danger. Suspicious men within the Night's Watch itself and among the southern soldiers knew they could not pass up the chance to kill the king if the opportunity ever presented itself, even if success was unlikely. The Lord Commander, together with his leaders, assigned those men to the most isolated posts possible.
Daemon explained to Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, Benjen, Ned, Mance, and even Stannis that he could see the aura of people. He was capable of identifying who wanted to kill him, who thirsted for blood, or who harbored thoughts of revenge.
After that, it was enough to keep those people away from the king's inner circle. As a result, there were no incidents.
On the morning after he arrived at the Wall, Daemon walked over to Odahviing, who remained perched atop the Wall. The dragon had not yet gone out to hunt.
"How have you been?" Daemon asked.
"Well. I heard you had a son..." Odahviing replied, never taking his eyes off the north.
Daemon raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know the dragons of Tamriel enjoyed human gossip," Daemon joked, knowing the dragon had certainly overheard the Night's Watch's conversations...
Odahviing snorted. "Certainly not. But I heard that a new Dovahkiin has been born. That interests me."
"You can't be certain he's a Dovahkiin or not. After all, that power isn't inherited through bloodlines," Daemon countered.
"That is true. After all, it has to do with the soul, not genetics. But your son shouldn't have been born ordinary, especially being of your bloodline..." Odahviing replied.
Daemon smiled faintly as he turned his gaze back to the North. "There is power within him. I felt it from the moment I saw him. His eyes are very similar to mine—they shine with magic... I think even my wife received a bit of magic from carrying him in her womb... I'll have to look into that more carefully later..." Daemon said.
"Well, then you should be proud," Odahviing said.
Daemon simply nodded in agreement. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "In any case, I'd like to head north. Are you available?" he asked.
The dragon moved his head and finally looked at him. "We can go."
"Excellent. It's finally time to provoke that army. I'm not going to stay here waiting for a year," Daemon said.
He knew that, no matter how many resources they had, it would still be an enormous burden to keep an entire army of two hundred and seventy thousand men stationed at the Wall. The weather was terrible, and many people were already showing signs of exhaustion from remaining there. They were there only out of duty or because their lords had ordered and compelled them to be. Far from their families and their lands, it was certainly far too stressful for everyone.
Daemon had no intention of keeping that army waiting for so long.
So he stepped toward the edge of the Wall and threw himself off, activating his levitation magic. Odahviing did the same, allowing himself to fall for a few moments before spreading his wings. Daemon deactivated his magic when the dragon came close enough, landing on the dragon's neck and settling himself as Odahviing gained altitude and flew north.
He could have gone with his own dragons, but he knew that the creature commanding the army of the dead might be able to do something against them. Even as a Dovahkiin, he was not someone who enjoyed taking unnecessary risks.
That was why the dovah dragon was the best option for checking the situation beyond the Wall. The two of them continued searching for the enemy.
"Searching at random probably won't help. I'm sure you can detect a large concentration of magic..." Daemon suggested.
"Of course. I'm already heading toward where I can sense an enormous concentration of necromantic magic."
After crossing several mountain ranges, they finally found an immense snowstorm.
Inside it... was the army of the dead.
"Can he really keep this storm going the whole time? He must have been here for quite a while..." Daemon murmured, watching it with a serious expression. The Night King must possess an absurd amount of energy to sustain a phenomenon of that magnitude.
"They've detected us. All eyes are on us," Odahviing warned.
A dragon's roar echoed from within the storm.
"Do you think they're going to send that dragon?" Daemon asked, staring at the area while Odahviing flew above the storm.
For a few moments, he raised an eyebrow, but nothing happened.
"It seems they only bark... but don't bite," Daemon remarked, staring at the storm that concealed hundreds of thousands of undead with disappointment.
Then, Daemon decided to act.
"Lok Vah Koor!" He unleashed his Thu'um, causing the storm to vanish instantly.
A massive army appeared before them, far larger than when Daemon had first encountered them, back when Winter was still sealed inside that cave and the dead had wanted to capture her.
There were at least four hundred thousand undead. At the center of the army stood the one who commanded them. A figure clad in white armor wearing a crown of ice.
Daemon also identified Euron Greyjoy, now transformed into another White Walker, along with the dragon that had become one of the undead.
Surrounding the Night King were at least forty White Walkers, each wielding an ice spear.
"Interesting..." Daemon felt no fear. Odahviing also maintained his indifferent expression as he observed those who would become his enemies.
"We can destroy them here and now," the dovah dragon suggested.
Daemon shook his head. "No. That would be too easy. And that's exactly what I don't want."
He needed that battle to take place at the Wall. He wanted the entire realm to feel that it had taken part in the great war. After that, his reign would be definitively secured.
If he wiped out the entire army of the dead there, in the middle of nowhere, all of his previous actions would lose part of the impact he wanted to create. He would have far more problems in the future, as would his descendants, because of all the important people he had killed throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Besides, who could guarantee that no one would distort history centuries or even millennia from now?
He needed witnesses. He wanted his men to feel the danger as well. He wanted them to tell their children, and their children's children, that they had faced monsters in this war... and won.
"And what do you wish to do?" Odahviing asked.
Daemon smiled. "It seems they're hiding here, perhaps waiting for our resources to run out. They must know what's happening at the Wall."
He continued staring at the army. "They don't seem very eager to fight. How about we have a little fun with them?"
"You're planning to use that?" Odahviing murmured, somewhat surprised.
Daemon smiled. "Why not? I still don't possess the full power of that attack. My connection to Oblivion isn't strong enough yet to destroy all of them, and I only recently managed to recover enough of it to summon you, but I can make them despair when they realize they can be destroyed so easily out here in the open fields of the North..."
Odahviing remained silent.
Then Daemon simply tilted his head back.
The White Walkers were still bewildered by the disappearance of their protection, watching the storm vanish before their eyes as though it were nothing. The advantage of remaining hidden and attacking beneath the cover of snow had come to an end.
And at that moment, Daemon roared.
"Strun Yol Sahrot!!!"
This was the Dragonborn's most powerful Thu'um.
The Night King himself trembled.
And suddenly, the sky changed.
The blue sky created by the Thu'um that had cleared the weather disappeared, replaced by a gigantic vortex of clouds swirling above their heads. The hurricane took on a pinkish hue until, little by little, it became completely crimson.
Then... balls of fire began to appear.
Small meteors streaked across the sky toward the ground.
There was no time to escape. The Night King quickly issued orders to his army, trying to make them retreat, but the entire region would be struck.
The meteors began to fall one after another.
Explosions devastated entire ranks of the undead.
Daemon merely watched. This was Alduin's power.
The Night King fled atop his undead dragon while the other White Walkers escaped on horseback. Euron Greyjoy, now transformed, also tried to flee desperately as he watched the meteors annihilating the army of the dead. He was just as terrified.
And he failed to notice the enormous shadow emerging above his head.
"I let you escape the first time. Now... be destroyed." Odahviing opened his massive jaws.
Euron Greyjoy and his undead horse were swallowed whole, along with the snow beneath them, as Odahviing's mouth flashed while lifting upward and a blaze of fire illuminated the sky.
Euron Greyjoy and his horse were completely consumed by the light within Odahviing's mouth.
There was no need to discuss his fate. The snow turned into water and steam at the same time, and Euron and his horse had been reduced to dust.
Euron Greyjoy died right there. There was no great confrontation, no final words, nor a heroic climax.
He simply vanished from the world inside the jaws of a dovah dragon.
Odahviing spread his wings and climbed back into the sky as a dozen ice spears were hurled toward him, passing through the fiery meteors. The instant they reached him, however, they all slammed into a powerful magical barrier, causing the spears to ricochet away without leaving so much as a scratch on the shield.
"Do these creatures really think they can harm me?" Odahviing asked with disdain.
Daemon simply admired his handiwork. At least a quarter of the army of the dead had vanished beneath the rain of meteors created by [Strun Yol Sahrot].
"That's enough. Let's go back." Daemon said, and the two of them returned south of the Wall.
The Night King had not intended to attack the Wall immediately. But now, he had no choice but to try to destroy the living as quickly as possible, because Daemon's attack could only be used while the northern army remained isolated. After all, that attack destroyed enemies and allies alike—the meteors did not distinguish one from the other.
There was no way for that necromancer to escape.
Not when there was a dovah dragon and a Dovahkiin... together. After all, in that world, there was nothing capable of standing against forces like those.
Raccoon Here:
Strun Yol Sahrot does not exist in the lore; I created it here to better fit the power.
Strun = Storm
Yol = Fire
Sahrot = Absolute Power
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🦝 Raccoon here: 🦝
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