Disclaimer: This is a story based on ASOIAF Universe and all recognizable characters, plots belong to GRRM. I have no ownership to it.
Chapter 40: The Bastard King- I
As Vaegon finished reading the letter, silence descended in the halls. There was not even the sound of breathing. Everything they knew of their origin was false. They had always believed it was thanks to Jaehaerys that the current reign of the House of the Dragon was so deeply rooted, but the truth was far darker. The origin of the plan came from Maegor the Cruel—the mad, the master manipulator who had truly forged the foundations of their rule. Their grandfather had simply continued the lies, peddling them to the masses, making sacrifices for the glory of their crown. The king himself was a bastard, born out of wedlock, but of the elder line according to Valyrian tradition, and even the best dragonlord at the time of his ascension. Everyone was shocked, trying to reorganize their understanding of the world at once.
A sharp, piercing sound shattered the heavy silence.
"Lies!" Queen Alysanne shouted, her voice filled with anguish. "Our mother was not a whore. She was a faithful lady who prayed in the septs and was loyal to our father. Also, what in the name of the Seven Hells do you mean by sacrificing my future children, Jaehaerys?" She was devastated by the damning contents of the letter.
Jaehaerys looked defeated like never before, but he shook his head, as if trying to clear the weight of tiredness and despair that had enveloped him.
"My love, I am deeply sorry. I confronted our mother, and she revealed the truth. She willingly slept with Maegor. Father was weak, not a warrior, and our mother always had a preference for warriors, muscled beasts—you know this. Why did she marry Rogar if not for that? Maegor was a warrior without peer in his time. Mother attempted to seduce him, and he seized the opportunity to ensure his bloodline survived. Our four children, dead in the cradle—I do not know how many we lost due to my actions, natural causes, or assassination."
A sudden piercing laughter from Daemon Snow broke the tension.
"The look on your face, Grandmother. It is truly hilarious. What were you calling me earlier? I can't quite remember," Daemon said with a thinking pose.
"Ah yes, bastard, right?" Daemon continued with a nod, "How many children did you have with the bastard king again? Please, remind me. Also, I don't want to be crude, but still, I hope you don't get a heart failure remembering how much you catered to a bastard's lust and his cunning plans. Maybe the Faith is right Grandmother, bastards are full of vile cunning and lust for their sisters."
Alysanne almost fainted, as if her entire life replayed before her eyes. She could not decide whether her love for Jaehaerys or her beliefs weighed more. She tried to open her mouth even in her shock, but a harsh command from the king stopped her.
"Enough from both of you," said the commanding voice of the king. "Especially you, Daemon. You got one arrow in, and I thought you were pragmatic and mature enough not to needlessly needle people and create new enemies where none exist."
Snow just shrugged. "You can't blame me. It was just too damn ironic and funny to ignore. I had to make some quips about it."
The other Targaryens in the room looked bewildered by the exchange.
"Daemon," the king said in a tired voice, "now please tell me why you are here when you were not invited. I forgot to ask when you made your overdramatic entrance."
The king finished with a slight edge of mockery in his voice, clearly trying to move past the revelation about Maegor.
"No. No. No, Jaehaerys. You will not change the matter," Alysanne snapped. "Why did you do it, Jaehaerys? Why did you crown yourself king even after knowing the truth of your origin? Why was it not Rhaena, or even our nieces? You followed a madman's plan as if it were gospel. Why did you not tell me this all our lives?"
Jaehaerys looked at Alysanne with sadness.
"There was no choice, my dear sister. As you yourself just said, one does not simply disobey a madman riding Balerion. I could not endanger your life knowing what I knew of the Black Dread. Also, after reading the letter and thinking it over, I saw a path forward for our house. Grandfather Aegon gave three decades of peace, and yet fanatics still rose up for a religion that never cared about them. Do you know why? Because they had nothing else to hope for. Nothing else to believe in.
Maegor gave them a villain so terrifying that anyone who made peace would be seen as a savior. We were right to continue that legacy. I gave them the good king and queen, the loving couple. An entire generation would grow up knowing only the peace brought by the dragonlords, not by seven stone idols. I could not achieve that if you showed anything but love and complete devotion for me. So I hid the truth all these years. I disparaged a man I respect and made him the greatest evil of our time. All for House Targaryen. All for the crown and to establish the legacy of House Targaryen as the Kings of this land."
Alysanne remained silent, deep in thought. She appeared so weak that she nearly sat on the floor right there, but Aemma came and gently helped her to a chair at the side.
The king looked around at the rest of his descendants.
"Now that is over. None of you deserve any kind of explanation, and the only one who could even ask has had hers. So, Daemon Snow, answer my question."
Daemon Snow looked amused as he bowed exaggeratedly.
"Grandfather, the last time we spoke, you informed me about the threats across Essos. Also, thank you for the current history lesson. You have helped me by revealing the truth. My future knowledge is from a point where I make no change—as if I am not present to influence the story. Until now, I thought I knew every magical threat that could endanger me and mine, but it seems I was woefully underinformed. Clearly, more research is needed. I owe you one for informing me about the Faceless Men, Grandfather."
Jaehaerys looked intrigued, wondering whether Daemon had already encountered them, but even before he could ask, another voice interrupted from the side.
"Bastard, if you owe something, then return my dear daughter to me. You defiled her and corrupted her," the queen snapped.
"It seems to me that you didn't quite explain how I operate, Grandfather," Daemon said with a mocking grin. "And don't pretend you didn't grasp the implications of my actions."
Jaehaerys grimaced at that, knowing his grandson had correctly guessed the truth. Well, at least the bastard is as clever as I am, Jaehaerys thought, remaining silent against Daemon's taunt.
"Explain what?" Viserys finally asked mockingly. "That you know the future and used it to gain undue advantages?"
Daemon looked surprised at Viserys, as if he had not expected anyone but the king to engage in the conversation.
"Oh, fools," Daemon snarled. "I influenced Gael because she was a non-entity. She could not influence anything, because she would be dead by now if not for me."
The queen gasped in distress.
"Yes, dear loving queen. Your love for Gael, your suffocating love, made her take her own life. She would have died in 99 AC if not for me. Why should a no-name bard take her virginity and her love when I, a more worthy person, could use her as a sacrifice for my needs in a ritual?" Daemon said.
Everyone was flabbergasted to hear such rituals existed, even King Jaehaerys.
"What ritual? I know of no such thing," the king asked, intrigued.
"Aye, of course you do not, Grandfather. This is my own creation, mixing several rituals and principles," Daemon lied with an open grin. "When I planned and researched it, Gael became the perfect subject. Thirteenth and last daughter of a magical king and queen, so innocent and naive. The perfect sacrifice. Initially, I decided to take her virginity and life for my own gain. Specific numbers are powerful—thirteen, seven, three, twenty-one. The ritual site, the numbers, the symbols, and more than anything else, her loving willingness. She was twenty-one on her nameday. Everything was perfect. At least, that was my plan when I seduced her in 98 AC, during your fiftieth year celebration. But what I didn't know was she had turned herself into a honeypot, and the fool I am, I fell for it."
Everyone looked bewildered for a moment at the unfamiliar term, until the Rogue Prince snorted, grasping the meaning first. He knew the marriage had happened and that the ritual had not, so it was easy to understand what had transpired.
"The ritual took place on the seventh day of the seventh moon, on the Isle of Faces, in the fire of my dragon. But she knew I was going to kill her. I asked her why she was still willing. Do you want to know what she said to me?" Daemon asked, taking a few deep breaths before continuing.
But Jaehaerys interrupted with a harsh command.
"Daemon, that is enough. We do not want to know the horrible things you did with my daughter. I know she is alive, as you said, and that she married you. Meeting her one final time before you leave for Essos is enough for me."
Daemon looked crestfallen and considered ignoring the king and saying it anyway just to hurt Alysanne, but he decided not to provoke the king more than necessary. He did not want to be known as a kinslayer—not yet. So he merely shrugged and mimed closing his mouth.
"No," Alysanne snapped. "Jaehaerys, you may not care about the girl children you had, but I care about them immensely. I want to know what made this evil bastard change his mind. I want to hear it."
Jaehaerys nearly ordered her to stop, but seeing the hatred and anger aimed at himself in Alysanne's eyes, the old king closed his own and fell silent.
Daemon just grinned and informed them:
"I'm glad you asked. Daemon, there is no specific reason. The truth is, I love you. And what is love, if not the willingness to sacrifice everything for it? If you really want to know—the first day you sang for me, I knew you were going to kill me. I was always the useless Gael no one cared about, except for being the daughter of a king. I knew you were using me. I knew you were my nephew. I dreamt of it. I dreamt the change you brought by replacing the filthy bard who cheated on me. I knew you were feeding me your blood to heal my mind and body. As I recovered, I saw you clearly, and I loved you. Why shouldn't I? No one else has ever loved me for me. My mother saw me as a replacement for my sisters. She would've killed my child and me with moon tea. My father and my mother denied me—first Viserys, then Daemon, then every man who proposed to marry me. So why shouldn't I be willing, when one member of my family saw me, even if just to use me? You gave me the greatest days of my life, Daemon. I was never meant to see 100 AC, but you made it possible. Let me return the favor. If your greatest days come from sacrificing me, then so be it. I will do it out of love and respect I have for you, nephew."
Everyone was astonished by the speech. Daemon continued, "Yes, I was like you all, surprised beyond anything. For the first time in this life, I decided not to be selfish. I chose to change a decision I had made—not for myself, but for another person. I decided that Gael's love, respect, and loyalty toward me should be rewarded, not by death at my hands. So I modified the ritual and made it something wonderful. I created a bond, a magical marriage bond, anchored and sealed in fire and blood. A bond that allows us to share things between us. Fortunately for us, I had the perfect sacrifice to offer : three dragon eggs that I took as the dowry . Now she will not die unless I am dead, and I will not die as long as she is alive. I shared my powers with her. Her magical strength is rising. She heals faster. Her body is becoming more powerful. It will continue to grow until I can speak to her through our minds. She is currently sleeping under Sheepstealer's wings on this island, having completed the bonding with the dragon. She waits for my return so we can fly to Essos and begin our travels."
Everyone, except the king, was looking at one another in stupefaction. They didn't know what to think or do after hearing of this kind of magic. Alysanne was muttering "no" over and over, overcome with horrible realization and shock. Jaehaerys looked at his wife with concern, but seeing that she was too far gone in her horror, he turned his attention away. He nodded in thanks to Aemma, who was comforting the old queen.
It was the rogue prince who finally broke through the stunned silence as one fact registered in his mind. "You bastard! You sacrificed three dragon eggs? You stole from us. You dared to use them in your selfish, concocted rituals that may or may not even work!" He turned toward the king. "Your Grace, how could you allow this madness? Please give the order, and I will make sure he pays for it."
Daemon Snow simply smirked, and the rogue prince suddenly saw himself in that expression—the way others must have seen him when he smirked while taunting. It was infuriating beyond belief.
"I didn't steal anything, my favorite cousin. Our grandfather gave them to me as dowry. After all, the gift should match the worth of the princess. In fact, you should thank the king. He voluntarily added Blackfyre to that gift. Originally, I had planned to take Dark Sister with me."
The king remained silent, choosing to observe the interaction and see what else his bastard grandson would reveal in his arrogance. He would only intervene if things escalated into violence.
The rogue prince spluttered at the audacity but quickly replied, since the King remained silent regarding any punishment, "That is certainly something. Now why don't you surrender Blackfyre, which belongs to the king and his heir, and leave with your wife for your vaunted travels?"
"No, my dear cousin who shares my name, Blackfyre belongs to a warrior king. Regretfully, the current king is past his sword-wielding days, and his heir—well, he is Aenys reborn. No, he is weaker than Aenys. At least Aenys had a dragon. King Viserys will be the most foolish king to ever rule, and his reign will ultimately lead to the destruction of House Targaryen—if not for my own existence. Such a king does not deserve to use this magnificent blade as a walking stick." Daemon snow replied back with mocking grin that enraged many.
"What?" both the rogue prince and Viserys shouted.
"I am not foolish or weak. I am the heir chosen by the king and the lords of the realm. They believe in me," Viserys replied with a trained sternness he usually reserved for anyone other than his elders in his house.
The bastard almost snorted and looked at Viserys with pity. For a moment, the healthy Viserys before them was replaced in his mind by the weak, rotting body Daemon had seen in the television show and imagined in countless stories he had read online.
"Your foolishness stands beside Queen Alysanne, my dear cousin. The things you put poor Aemma through for a male heir, all for a stupid drunken dream, are awful beyond comparison, especially when you already have a dragonlord as your heir," the bastard said, looking at his younger namesake.
"How do you know about that dream?" Viserys asked fearfully. "I have not told anyone else."
"Did you think I lied to Grandfather when I told him I saw the future? I told him of our history thirty years from now. I never spoke to him about what happens to all of you, only what the next generation would cause. I want to watch what happens to you all with this change. This meeting has altered the course of things irrevocably. I want to see the ripples it will cause."
"So, you want to play god with our lives for your sick amusement, brother? Is that it? You knew my father would die, and you let him. And don't bother speaking of your supposed warning to him. You ignored Prince Baelon's death before his time. You could have easily come to heal him if you had wanted to," Rhaenys said scornfully.
Daemon laughed. "Brother? That is the first time you have called me that or initiated a conversation with me at all. It seems the only value you see in me is my power. I don't see you as family either. You all ignored me for stupid reasons and worthless pride. Pride only because you were born into House Targaryen and did nothing with it.
I have done many things. I improved the North, made it self-sustaining, revitalized trade. I saved the Night's Watch from the utter stupidity of giving them the New Gift—a move made by that stupid faithless Barth to weaken the North. A move my foolish grandmother fell for. I helped remove Bennard and returned Winterfell to the rightful hands of Cregan Stark. Rhaenys I have done more for your so-called kingdom than the entire royal family.
So no, I have no need to save you. I have no reason to be loyal to or help you. Even then, I did help you, by revealing the treasonous plots to the king. He may have glossed over the part about threats to your very lives when he retold the story. Even this meeting and the unveiling of magic happened only because of me. Had I simply left with Gael and not bothered to speak to the king, none of this would have happened."
"What treasonous plots?" Viserys asked in bewilderment.
"It's true," the king replied. "It seems that even when I chose to hide our true power, our enemies could not tolerate our blood or our dragons. Their hatred knows no end. By the next generation, they would have crippled our dragons. I am sorry that the house I sacrificed so much for would have fallen because of my foolish decision. When I used the Faith and the maesters, I did not know they were also using me. Their hatred for magic and our house runs deeper than I ever imagined. My grandson has informed me that many deaths in our family may not have been coincidences or accidents. I sent my son and daughter to infiltrate the Citadel and the Faith, but they were too blind and fools to see the truth."
"You can't blame them, Grandfather," Daemon Snow said. "Vaegon was deliberately kept away from anti-magic meetings. Maegelle unfortunately died from greyscale, and even I couldn't see whether it was intentional or not. But the fact that no one else died from her exposure is too suspicious."
"Killed? Who else was killed by treachery? Who dared to kill the blood of the dragon?" the rogue prince yelled in fury, gripping his sword.
"Your father and your uncle, for sure. You all know what happened to your uncle Aemon. What you don't know is that I was the reason the Conningtons sent the confession letter. After seeing Aemon dying in a dream, my Lyanna was heartbroken and I guessed I did owe Aemon one favor as he did defend my mother against the Conningtons all those years ago. So I entered their castle slaughtered through it until I made the Lord write confessions and then ended them root and stem. Then I sent a letter with my eagle to the King, so he could have prior knowledge and deal with it as he pleases. Before all this I investigated how an idiot like Connington came up with the idea to kill Aemon by disguising themselves as Myrish men. They confessed it was the maester who gave them the suggestion. Baelon may have been poisoned with something that mimicked a burst belly. I don't know who did it.
I can't confirm anything about the children lost at birth—both the king's and yours, Viserys. I don't know how many were lost to cost of the curse or how many more died because of your stupidity in bedding an eleven-year-old frail girl, when every source told you that childbirth at that age is dangerous. I don't know how many children from other families were lost because of their magical blood, due to the maesters' biases."
Rhaenys and Viserys were grief-stricken hearing of their father's death and how it might have been avoided. They looked at the king for confirmation, and the old king nodded in sadness. Their grief slowly began to twist into rage, just like the rogue prince's.
"Your Grace," the rogue prince said with malice, "it seems Maegor should have burned Oldtown after all. The head council of both the Faith and the Citadel deserves it. No matter. I will do it right after this meeting."
"You will do no such thing, Daemon Targaryen," the king ordered firmly. "This requires intricate planning and execution. I will begin it, and my heir Viserys will carry it out. You will be his Hand, Daemon—the Hand that kills our enemies. Dark Sister was always meant for the defender of House Targaryen, while the king remains kind and approachable."
"Don't I get a choice in who serves as my Hand and sits on my council, Your Grace?" Viserys asked, frowning. "I was planning to use your own council to help me rule for the foreseeable future."
"Do you really want a Hightower as your Hand while you are investigating the two institutions that are enshrined in Lord Hightower's capital? I don't think they are exactly unaware of what goes on in their lands, Viserys. I can't remove Otto now without a strong reason, not after just confirming his position despite the blunder of my daughter's supposed kidnapping. But you can change it once you succeed me," the king said, trying to stay calm despite the foolish question.
"You don't want me as your Hand, Viserys?" the rogue prince asked suddenly, his voice filled with rage and sadness.
"You are really not a diplomatic man, brother. I thought Otto was doing an excellent job and didn't want to dismiss Grandfather's council when I take the throne," Viserys replied with a smile, as if that explained everything.
The bastard laughed hard at Viserys's reply. "I told you, Grandfather. It was his stupidity that led to the downfall of your house. The greatest fool king there ever was."
"Enough, Daemon," the king snapped at his bastard grandson. "I will teach him how to be a Targaryen king. It seems my dear Baelon lost a few of his brain cells and failed in educating his sons after Alyssa's death. One became a weak people-pleaser, and the other an impulsive arrogant dragonlord. Extremes of any kind are poison. A ruler must be balanced."
Viserys's face twisted through many emotions. He was furious at being called a fool by a bastard in front of everyone, but what could he say when his own grandfather agreed? Daemon was seething with anger. His fist clenched around the hilt of Dark Sister. He wanted to strike something. This meeting was making him feel emotions that had no place in a dragonlord's heart—fear, sadness, and frustration.
"Enough of these speculations without a shred of proof except the words of a bastard. Decide later. Husband, what do you intend to do about my daughter? How will you punish the bastard for stealing a dragon, three dragon eggs, and your sword Blackfyre?" the Queen asked from her chair at last.
Everyone turned to look at the queen, who seemed to have just returned from the brink of death. Every bit of energy she had at the start of the meeting was gone, and only the sheer hatred she felt for the bastard allowed her to speak. She was aware enough of herself to know that her hatred for Daemon Snow had increased dramatically because she could never bring herself to hate her beloved husband for what he had done. Her bastard grandson had become the perfect outlet for everything that had happened over the past week.
Everyone looked very interested to hear the king's response. They all knew how cruel and cunning the king could be when needed and wondered if he had any hidden tricks to actually punish the bastard grandson, who was probably the most powerful man in the world.
"Yes, Grandfather, I want to hear what punishment you have for me?" Daemon Snow asked mockingly, knowing that the king didn't have the power to do anything to him.
The king looked defeated, and he glanced at Alysanne with a hint of anger.
Then the king sighed and said, "There is no punishment, because I couldn't enforce it. More than that, even if I could, it would damage House Targaryen's image, and I will not allow that. This turn of events requires a version of events similar to my own ascension. Let the realm and the Faith be fooled again, just as Maegor and I fooled them fifty years ago.
The reason you tamed the untamable Cannibal is because I gave you a quest to legitimize you as a prince of House Targaryen. I gave you that quest knowing Cannibal is vicious and assuming you were not foolish enough to accept it—but you did the impossible. During your stay at Dragonstone, you and Gael fell in love and married under the Old Gods and Valyrian gods, just as Alysanne and I did. Since you completed the quest, you are to be legitimized as Prince Daemon Targaryen, son of Crown Prince Aemon Targaryen and Lyarra Snow. You will be eligible for the throne only after Viserys and his heirs, but before Rhaenys Velaryon and hers."
Corlys and Rhaenys snarled at that. The king looked at them and continued, "Yes, Corlys, I hate my mother and uncle Velaryon so much that I will place my disrespectful and disloyal bastard grandson above you and yours.
"The official story of how he got Blackfyre is this—when he visited me in my chambers, due to my old age and failing body, I mistook him for my heir Aemon and passed on the sword. Another version will claim he stole it and fled. Now, I know you are going to travel, and the reason will be exile due to these events. This will preserve the image of our house, while there are two heirs out of Westeros in case something happens to us through treachery."
Everyone was digesting the story, impressed by the masterful manipulation of events to make House Targaryen stronger and more secure, even when it was teetering on the edge of disaster.
Daemon Snow, for all his arrogance, looked at the old king with grudging respect. He could understand the cold-hearted ruthlessness needed to defeat enemies and maintain power. More than that, he respected the immense will it took to accept defeat, especially after ruling as an all-powerful king for decades. Daemon also respected the sacrifices the king had made.
He withdrew Blackfyre from its sheath and pressed the tip to the floor with a clang. The sound startled everyone.
Daemon bowed his head, his hands resting on the hilt of Blackfyre, it's tip pressed to the ground.
"Your Grace, I can see the sacrifices you have made for the house. By informing me about this history, and the possible magics of this world, you may have inadvertently saved my life. I genuinely thought that magic was limited, and that no threat would come for me in this world until the Long Night in 300 AC. For this, I vow that I will not usurp your chosen heir or his heirs. I will not harm them unless they harm me or mine. I will even sit the throne—a throne I do not truly desire—in the event of the death of Viserys's line, so that you may rest knowing no Velaryon will ever sit it." Daemon finished and sheathed Blackfyre.
Everyone was shocked by the arrogant bastard's uncharacteristic declaration. King Jaehaerys's eyes widened in surprise for a heartbeat, and he wondered why his arrogant grandson would do this now. He went over the vow Daemon had just uttered, and then Jaehaerys finally understood. The old king snorted loudly, and before he could stop himself, he started laughing like there is no tomorrow.
Everyone looked uncomfortable at the sudden, mad laughter. Daemon Snow asked with a touch of mockery, "I thought my vow was heartfelt and grateful enough. Why are you laughing, Your Grace?"
"Nothing, grandson. Just a private joke I remembered," the old king replied.
Rhaenys scoffed. "Is that it? The great punishment of the fearsome king toward his bastard grandson? The king who punished his own daughter so harshly is now rewarding this bastard? Maybe it's because you see yourself in him—a bastard to another bastard."
Everyone but Daemon Snow gasped at the insult, but Rhaenys continued.
"I am Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, Lady of Driftmark and the largest navy of this kingdom, Rider of Meleys, firstborn legitimate daughter of Crown Prince Aemon Targaryen, your firstborn son. Do you truly believe I would accept this after you insulted me and mine? After you yourself declared that our ancient traditions put me before Viserys in the line of succession? I could reveal the truth of this bastard and this entire situation—unless you betroth my children to Viserys's line. You should make this arrangement, Grandfather. That will be your punishment for all the slights against me and mine. You should die knowing that a Velaryon will sit the Iron Throne by your own decree. Only then will my pride be appeased."
Corlys looked at Rhaenys with pride.
Daemon Snow pitied his sister and almost warned her what foolishness this was, but stopped after seeing the smug smirk on her face. He had been observing everyone in the room with his pseudo-empathic sense, analyzing their true emotions. When Rhaenys made that threat, Daemon could feel the king's tightly woven control over his madness and rage start to unravel.
The king had been suppressing his fury at Daemon Snow all this time, knowing that fighting him would be an assured defeat. Daemon had chosen his words carefully, walking a fine line so as not to push things beyond the point of no return, where he would end up as a kin-slayer.
Maybe it was the sheer idiocy of threatening the king without any personal power to back it up or maybe the king had simply been looking for an outlet. Daemon wasn't sure. But as he observed the king, he understood one thing:
Jaehaerys the Conciliator had finally lost it and whatever will happen now is worthy for a son of Maegor the Cruel.
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Authors note : yeah, decided to split the chapter as wordcount became near 10k. also got the perfect ending with a cliffhanger… how is the targ family meeting. Enjoying the drama and heartbreak?
Anyone guessed the kings solution for loosing his daughter, sword and a dragon all the while securing their image and power….
Any guesses what would happen in next chapter.
See you all in Chapter 41: The Bastard King-II
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