[Chapter Size: 2700 Words.]
Third Person POV.
King's Landing.
...
...
One by one, the prisoners were brought into the throne room, while the place became more and more crowded throughout the entire Great Royal Hall.
Closer to the throne, on one side, stood the men who remained from the losing side of the war, though Daemon had not chained them, as he had no need for that.
On the other side were his own allies: lords from the North, the Riverlands, the Westerlands, the Stormlands, and the Crownlands.
This was the Great Council.
Although some houses had simply lost all their important members in the war, there was still someone surviving at their seat who would lead the house in the future.
Daemon could not help but look at Dickon Tarly. The boy now had to assume control of the house after his father had been killed by dragonfire while advancing with the cavalry in the middle of the battlefield. The boy had the bearing of a warrior and the appearance of a general, yet he was shrinking in fear in a corner among the Reachmen. Daemon remembered the fat brother he had at the Wall. Daemon had encountered him a few times whenever he visited his uncle Aemon, but he had never truly spoken much with the boy.
In any case, the Reach still had important houses. There was Lord Redwyne, Lord Hightower, and many other lords of the Reach, which was perfect for debating the future of Westeros and that kingdom, although they seemed quite dissatisfied with the fact that Daemon had almost completely wiped out House Tyrell and would probably be facing some problems because of it. He could see red and black auras in some of them, but he also found a few golden ones.
As for the gathered group from Dorne, not even their representatives showed anything beyond red and even black auras. He would have to seek someone he could use, and it would not be among the prisoners.
There were also the lords of the Stormlands who had joined Aegon Blackfyre. Among them, everyone took their positions and chose a place to stand in the hall. Most of the court and guests gathered closer to the entrance doors, while their eyes went directly to the Iron Throne, where Daemon stood calmly.
Daemon remained silent as he observed each of the faces present, seeing their auras and still getting somewhat accustomed to this power. He could see people's intentions. The place was filled with colors of every kind. There was even lust and passion, along with hints of greed, obviously. All of this while noticing some ladies in the corner of the room, watching him and whispering among themselves. But there were also red and even black auras, even among them; he had probably killed a brother, a husband, or even a son of theirs since returning to this world, and they were thirsty for revenge.
The hall soon fell into unrest because of the silence Daemon maintained. People glanced at one another, and Daemon left it that way on purpose, so they would become a little tense, until he finally sighed and leaned slightly forward, one of his elbows resting on the edge full of spikes of the Iron Throne. The Iron Throne could not hurt him.
"Well, is everyone present here?" Daemon first asked the maester, who nodded.
Nolum seemed somewhat nervous. He had never imagined he would have to stand before practically all the rulers of Westeros, in the middle of the king's hall, representing an assembly for the king that was supposed to decide the future of Westeros.
There were even other maesters present, far more enthusiastic about doing this than he was. After all, it was a great chance to gain status throughout all Seven Kingdoms. Nolum wanted none of that; he was a very complacent maester. But because he had been forced to take care of matters in the Red Keep, Daemon had no other choice but to place him there.
Daemon still had not had the chance to speak with Archmaester Marwyn. He hoped to do that later. And he could very clearly see the golden color surrounding that man in a corner of the hall. That immediately raised an alert for the king.
"Why do we have to stand among savages?" someone muttered, obviously looking at Mance and the rest of the Free Folk leaders.
Val and Ygritte were also among them. The only one standing closer to the king was the maester himself, at the foot of the steps leading to the Iron Throne, and Sandor Clegane beside Daemon, wearing armor and white cloaks, officially representing the king's Kingsguard.
"We are not invaders, but guests. Guests who fought and won the war, unlike you," Tormund's voice cut through the hall, already causing opposing murmurs, while the other side below was about to retort.
"Silence."
Daemon's voice echoed through the place, seeming to make the hall itself tremble with the power imbued within it. Everyone immediately turned their attention, with uneasy sighs, toward the Iron Throne, reminded of the monster who sat upon it at that moment.
Daemon could see the change in their auras. Quickly, they all shifted into a color that represented fear. Although he could already see it on their faces, it was visible through the colors as well. He also noticed lust appearing immediately among some women; even Val and Ygritte had their auras turn slightly orange. Impressed by his control over the crowd and display of power.
"We are here to talk, not to question who should or should not be here. Much less when the side questioning my guests is the side that lost the war and is currently imprisoned. Just because you are not wearing chains does not mean you are not prisoners, and we are deciding here what will happen to all of you," Daemon said, looking toward one of the Reachmen who had spoken.
"And what are you going to do? Kill us like you did to House Tyrell and House Martell?" another person among the group muttered.
Quickly, the entire place became tense with small murmurs.
Daemon opened a smile. 'If these people want to see the monster, then so be it,' he thought, while raising his hand, not initially wanting to begin that assembly in such a chaotic way.
But those men did not seem willing to give him peace until he did something radical. So he needed to make an example.
His hand closed, as if squeezing a neck. One of the men there was directly pulled by an invisible force. Everyone on that side became terrified when the man started to rise before all of them, lifted more than three meters into the air, with everyone backing away in fear, cursing and even praying to the Seven, while the man appeared panicked, his neck being squeezed by an invisible force as he moved forward before everyone's horror.
"From your clothing, you must be from House Peake, of the Reach..." Daemon saw the three castles with three towers as the emblem on his clothes. Someone closely tied to the Tyrells, it seemed...
Then Daemon turned back to everyone. "I realized something ever since I returned to Westeros. It was obvious that House Targaryen had fallen, and it was because of the lack of power to contain the weeds that began to grow before everyone's eyes."
"We can see that in these times... House Lannister became too greedy. House Tyrell chased claimant after claimant, equally greedy, just like the Martells, who sought power and vengeance and would have pursued it if they had remained alive... Three entire great houses that I had to eliminate completely," Daemon said calmly while keeping the man suspended in the air.
Everyone's eyes shifted between the king's words and the display of magic. At this point, it no longer mattered whether he would reveal his abilities before everyone present or not. Everyone already knew.
While the man still writhed, there was regret and fear in his struggling. Daemon lifted him above the people until placing him in the middle of the hall, throwing him onto the floor. The man fell, beginning to cough, unable to breathe properly, while Daemon remained calmly before the Iron Throne.
"Lord Peake..." Daemon began, making the man shudder as he looked at him. The man was trembling in fear, and everyone was beginning to whisper among themselves; it was as if they stood before a demon.
"You asked me whether I would do the same thing I did to House Tyrell and the Martells. Do not forget House Lannister as well," Daemon added, pausing for a few seconds before continuing.
"So the answer for you is: yes. I intend to remove every weed in Westeros, so that the kingdoms may prosper from this point onward." Daemon now spoke to everyone...
"Tell me, does House Peake of the Reach intend to cause problems for the new government?" Daemon asked directly this time.
"Y-Your Majesty... cough, cough... House Peake will stand with House Targaryen, we swear loyalty!" he said, trembling as he realized the true threat Daemon was.
He might have been trying to provoke a reaction so that Daemon would feel pressured by everyone there, while also venting his personal frustrations. However, the moment he saw that Daemon would yield to none of them and was also more than willing to kill them, his sense of provocation collapsed completely. Daemon was not someone who could be provoked; he would simply go on killing everyone who became troublesome. There was no law or man capable of stopping him.
How could they stop this man?
The hall seemed agitated once more. Even among the allies, many swallowed hard. Daemon had not shown himself to be insane, not like his grandfather, but he possessed the cruelty necessary to exterminate entire enemy families, and he would do it strategically or knowing that no one could touch him afterward.
Another man from the Reach stepped forward, emerging from the crowd of frightened men after what they had just witnessed.
"You cannot be king!" he shouted. "You may even be a Targaryen or not, after all, you could be a bastard."
"He is not a bastard, he already presented proof in the North. And my father can confirm it." It was Robb Stark who spoke this time. However, the knight ignored Robb and pointed toward Daemon.
"You are something that abominates the Seven Gods! You use magic! Everyone saw it, he is evil! Condemned to the seven hells!" he shouted.
Daemon could see the black aura around the knight.
"Oh, really?" Daemon narrowed his eyes while rising from the throne.
Lord Peake was still cowering on the floor between the throne and the knight.
Daemon noticed that the High Septon seemed somewhat lost in a corner of the hall. He feared Daemon, but he also could not support his magic.
"Then prove your faith. Prove that your gods condemn me," Daemon simply said as he descended the steps, passing Maester Nolum while raising his hand.
A sword began to materialize, from the hilt to an explosion of light, while the blade fully emerged, reappearing with ancient symbols upon it.
It was exactly how a divine sword should be. A clamor could be heard throughout the hall upon seeing the sword that shone like the sun.
He pointed the tip of the blade toward the man.
"Then let the gods judge me. I call for a Trial of Seven, knight. Prove that I am wrong and let the gods decide."
Daemon simply left the sword in that position, glowing, while it provoked murmurs and echoes of astonishment throughout the hall ever since it appeared. But the moment they heard his words, an uproar spread through everyone.
How could they not be surprised by Daemon invoking a Trial of Seven to prove himself? By doing so, he had even cornered the knight with no escape. How could he refuse something like that before everyone? Were the gods not supposed to decide?
Daemon looked at the crowd and then at the man.
"But do not worry. It will not be just you. You may choose six more men to fight by your side, representing the Seven. If I cannot defeat those seven men in combat, then it means your gods truly condemn me. Otherwise, your faith fails. That means the Seven do not take your words as their own," Daemon declared openly.
He was turning their own system against them. It was very simple: a judgment decided by the gods. If he won, no one could agree with the accusation that he used vile magic. Although he knew that would not silence the quiet murmurs completely.
But it would publicly show everyone present whether the gods favored him. Even the most skeptical could not simply deny the fact of what Daemon would be demonstrating there.
Meanwhile, he kept his sword pointed forward, welcoming the challenge.
"Very well!" the man said angrily. Daemon did not even ask for his name; it did not matter.
"Brothers, you saw what this monster can do on the battlefield! He controls dragons! Uses magic! Almost two years ago, he appeared in King's Landing and began causing chaos alone! He killed King Robert, torturing him in the forest and leaving him gravely wounded to die in the castle. He transformed into a beast and began massacring the soldiers who protected this city! Then he attacked King Joffrey during Lord Stark's trial!"
"He robbed the royal treasury! House Tully, House Lannister, and attacked the Citadel, killing several innocent archmaesters! And then he brought nearly two hundred thousand wildlings south of the Wall! How can we accept this?"
"This man massacred entire families without a proper trial, and now he wants us to accept it? Please, I call upon six men to fight at my side, so that we may defeat this monster, so that we may stop evil from happening and avenge all those who died unjustly by his hands!"
He spoke like a great knight defending his dogmas. Daemon remained silent, still standing with the sword pointed forward.
He opened a small smile while watching men simply step out from the crowd: three Dornishmen and three more men from the Reach, all bearing the title of knight, and there was a lord among them as well.
All of them had black auras. 'Good... this helps me cleanse the vermin,' Daemon thought.
He did not interrupt the man's pretty speech. Nor could he deny that he had indeed done many of those things. But later he would also prove why he had done all of it, and he would also show why the gods favored him as well.
"Very well. I see that you have become seven warriors. Now let us prove to everyone present whether your claims are nothing but empty words," Daemon spoke in a firm and serious tone.
The man seemed irritated by that, but soon glared at him.
"We will finish you, creature," he declared.
Daemon merely tilted his head.
"Save your energy for the fight and stop with these foolish threats. Let the gods decide the combat."
He then turned his attention toward the man among the crowd.
"High Septon, would you like to make this official? I want space cleared in the middle of the hall. Everything will happen here and now. Give these men swords and armor. I shall be waiting seated upon the Iron Throne."
Daemon spoke as he turned around, moving to sit on the throne and letting Dawnbreaker rest before him so everyone could see it.
Servants quickly called the seven men, who went to equip themselves, while the High Septon, limping and unable to walk properly, approached the center, waiting for all seven knights to finish preparing themselves.
Daemon did not mind making the entire meeting wait a little longer. He already had to deal with this kind of commotion as soon as possible, because he knew it would come one way or another.
It was also a chance to eliminate seven black auras immediately, while he already wondered how he could deal with all the others in a way that would not seem like outright murder.
He had to preserve some of his image now, without appearing to be a tyrant king.
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