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TWO WEEKS LATER, KING'S LANDING – TOURNEY GROUNDS
The sun blazed high above King's Landing, gleaming off polished steel and fluttering silk. The tourney grounds were alive again after a long time. Today, there was only celebration.
Thousands crowded the stands, roaring in excitement. Children waved bright ribbons, merchants called out their wares, and the air was filled with the thunder of hooves upon packed earth. Banners of every corner of the realm danced in the wind.
Stark grey direwolves
Martell suns and spears
Tyrell golden roses
Lannister crimson lions
Baratheon stag once more seen
Targaryen three-headed red dragon, proud as ever.
And The King's personal banner, The black dragon of House Grim, violet-eyed and fierce.
Shadow knights and beasts silent and watchful stood mixed among Unsullied, Northmen, Dornish spearmen, Reach knights, and even Ironborn sworn anew. Once enemies, now brothers under one crown.
High above the field, the royal dais commanded attention. Two thrones dark steel and Valyrian glory sat side by side.
Aeron Grim, Shadow Monarch, observed everything with calm authority. At his right, Daenerys Stormborn sat regal and radiant in white and silver, her hair catching the light like moonlit silk. Beside them gathered Tyrion Lannister, the Hand wine in hand already Lord Varys, Grey Worm, Missandei, Raya the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and members of the small council.
Overhead, Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal circled leisurely in the sky no longer symbols of fear, but of awe. The crowd erupted every time one of them roared.
Daenerys leaned toward Aeron, smiling softly at the laughter below.
"It feels… different," she whispered. "The people do not cower when they see dragons now. They cheer."
Aeron's lips twitched.
"Fear is a poor foundation for a kingdom. Wonder, however.."
His violet eyes followed the dragons as they cast shadows like wings of night over the stands.
"..that endures."
Jon Snow though he bore the truth of another name, stood just behind them. No longer dressed in the plain black of the North, he wore a fine set of Stark armor marked with a single dragon sigil at the chest. A place of honor, not subservience.
Aeron glanced toward him with a knowing smirk.
"You know," he said under his breath, "you could remain up here and rot from boredom like the rest of us…or you can join them."
Jon raised a brow. "Them?"
A roar rose from the field as armored knights lowered their lances for the next joust. Even from here, Jon's grip tightened with that familiar pull, battle calling like an old friend.
"You are itching to fight, aren't you ?" Aeron said, not as a guess but as truth spoken aloud.
Jon gave a breath of a laugh part sheepish, part excited.
"You know me too well at this point."
"Of course, we're friends." Aeron corrected quietly.
Daenerys looked to Jon then, pride glimmering through tears she refused to shed.
"You ride as a wolf," she said softly, "but you are fire-born as well. Let them see it, give them a reminder."
Jon Snow, Aegon Targaryen bowed his head slightly.
"Then I shall not embarrass my family, both sides of it." he said with a grin.
He stepped down from the dais. The crowd saw him…and roared even louder. Stark men pounded their shields. Dornish archers whistled and called out his name. Even the dragons cried above.
As Jon marched onto the field, a knight in Dornish colors laughed, calling out:
"Come then, Snow! Show us how they fight beyond the Wall!"
Jon's sword slid free in one sharp, clean motion.
"I've fought worse than you beyond the Wall," he answered, smiling in a way only a Stark could, with earnest danger.
The crowd adored it.
Trumpets blared. The melee would begin.
Unity was not just declared today.
it was proven.
For the first time in a long while…
Westeros was celebrating as one.
Jon had barely started getting ready when Aeron's voice cut through the cheers like a blade.
"Wait."
Jon froze mid-step. Thousands of eyes turned back to the royal dais as silence, curious, uneasy fell over the field. Aeron leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on Jon with unreadable intent.
"I shall choose an opponent for you."
Jon's heartbeat stumbled. Even Daenerys stiffened beside Aeron, her silver brows rising.
"Is that wise?" Tyrion muttered into his wine cup.
Varys whispered, "The king seldom acts without reason…"
Jon swallowed, trying not to betray his nerves. Around the stands, the nobles whispered harshly.
Aeron heard all of it.
He turned his head a fraction and spoke calmly
"Do not worry, Jon. I shall not send the Cannibal, no one in this realm can handle that afterall."
A ripple of laughter,fearful laughter cut through the nobles.
But then, the temperature changed. Shadows darkened behind Aeron's throne, swirling like smoke seeking shape. The crowd gasped as a massive figure stepped forth armor black as a starless night, violet runes pulsing faintly across his pauldrons.
A Shadow Knight.
Imposing.
A sword like death's own fang held easily in his grip.
The beast of a warrior bowed his head to Aeron, receiving his command without a word.
"Aeron.." Daenerys leaned in, voice low, concern softening her tone. "Are you certain of this? He is but one man, and.."
Her gaze returned to Jon.
"..he bleeds."
Aeron said nothing to her. His violet eyes remained on Jon alone… testing… watching… reading his soul.
Jon straightened, breath steadying.
If Aeron meant to humble him, so be it.
If he meant to measure him, he would not shrink.
"That's fine by me," Jon said, voice firm, carrying strong across the field.
"I'll take him on."
The shock on the noble seats was palpable.
"That fool."
"A bastard challenging the king?"
"He disgraces the tourney!"
Northmen roared in response, striking shields with fists and blades.
"He's our pride!"
"Show them how Northerners fight!"
Even Dornishmen grinned, already placing wagers with booming laughter.
The Shadow Knight descended the steps toward the field.
Jon drew Longclaw. The Valyrian steel glowed under the sun.
Daenerys watched him, breath caught behind parted lips.
Tyrion leaned back, eyes gleaming, whispering to himself
"Oh gods… I do love this."
Aeron's voice, low enough only Daenerys could hear
"Let them say whatever they want. Today they will witness a wolf with a dragon's soul."
The crowd roared as Jon stepped into the center of the field. Banners of every great house snapped in the wind all gathered under one sky. Dragons passed overhead, their shadows sweeping across thousands.
Yet all Jon saw was the armored figure across from him.
A Shadow Knight silent, towering, sword in hand.
And then without giving Jon time to get ready, the shadow knight striked.
Jon barely brought Longclaw up in time. The clash rang like thunder. The force sent him staggering back, each strike from the knight was brutal and merciless.
Jon countered, striking low for the knee joint sparks flew, but the knight hardly reacted.
Daenerys stood halfway from her seat, panic sharpening her tone.
"Isn't this too much?! Send someone weaker!"
Aeron remained calm, staring down with unwavering confidence.
"It's fine."
His eyes glinted.
"Besides… that is my weakest soldier."
Silence fell.
Tyrion's jaw dropped.
Even Varys blinked in rare shock.
Below, Jon wiped blood from his lip. He could feel the power radiating from the Knight, and the whispers calling him bastard, unworthy, nothing.
His grip tightened.
He dashed forward faster than before. The knight swung at his head, Jon ducked, rolled, and struck behind the knee again. Metal groaned. The Shadow Knight stumbled.
Northern warriors roared.
Jon pressed the advantage slashing again and again, striking precise weak points. He forced the Shadow down to one knee.
"He's doing it…" Tyrion muttered, half in disbelief.
The Shadow Knight's fist lashed out smashing into Jon's jaw. He flew back, crashing into the dirt, lungs screaming, and vision blurry.
But the moment Aeron spoke,
"Get up, Jon. I know you can do better than this."
There was no magic in the words.
Just a command.
One filled with belief.
Jon rose.
The knight charged but Jon was ready. He slid beside it and drove Longclaw up beneath the armor. A burst of violet shadow scattered like smoke on the wind.
The knight froze… then slowly lowered its weapon in acknowledgment.
The duel was done.
The crowd erupted.
Northmen shouted Jon's name.
Others stared in stunned silence respect replacing their disdain.
Jon stood bloodied but unbroken a warrior proven before all Westeros, a man besting in combat one of the unstoppable shadows of the Shadow Monarch.
Aeron leaned back, satisfied, a slow smile forming.
Daenerys' heart was still racing, but she tried to hide it behind a composed smile. Jon stood victorious in the arena, dust swirling around him like a cloak of honor. The cheers of Northmen echoed across the tourney grounds loud, proud, impossible to silence.
Her violet gaze slid toward Aeron.
He lounged back in his throne-like seat… perfectly calm, perfectly aware of the reactions unfolding around them. Nobles who once whispered insults now watched Jon with something close to respect or even fear.
Daenerys leaned closer, voice soft but triumphant.
"I see what you did here," she murmured, eyes glistening with satisfaction.
Aeron didn't look at her. His gaze remained fixed on Jon the bastard no longer treated like one. A faint, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
But he said nothing.
That silence said everything.
He didn't need to boast. He didn't need to explain. His power wasn't just dragons or shadows, but now it was the ability to reshape how the world saw people. To raise those overlooked, cast aside, dismissed.
Daenerys breathed out, realization sinking deeper.
Aeron wasn't merely defying the old order of westeros…
He was rebuilding it.
When he finally spoke, it was only a whisper..
"Let them see his worth."
She smiled a rare, genuine smile and slipped her hand onto his arm.
"And yours as well, my king."
Aeron simply gave her that same quiet, mysterious smile.
/-\
If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in DC
&
If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at
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