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Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warnings:
Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death
Category:
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Fandoms:
House of the Dragon (TV)Warhammer Fantasy
Characters:
Ikit ClawRhaenyra TargaryenJacaerys VelaryonLucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra)Baela TargaryenRhaena Targaryen (Daughter of Daemon)Daemon TargaryenCorlys "The Sea Snake" VelaryonHelaena TargaryenAddam VelaryonBackground & Cameo CharactersSilverwing | Alysanne Targaryen's DragonOriginal CharactersJoffrey Velaryon
Additional Tags:
Crack Treated SeriouslyCanon-Typical ViolenceThe Dance of the Dragons | Aegon II Targaryen v. Rhaenyra Targaryen EraAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceCanonical Character DeathCharacter Turned Into a HumanIkit got isekai'd as Jace's twinSkaven Species (Warhammer Fantasy)Death to all GreensHuman ExperimentationScience ExperimentsIkit is his own warningSilverwing still has shit taste in male ridersPOV MultipleBackground RelationshipsBackground Character Deathshow canon onlyDragon RidersAnimal AbuseIkit is an abusive dragonriderTho he's fairly mellow compared to his SkavenselfGood Parent Rhaenyra TargaryenNo beta we die like LucerysDysfunctional FamilyCannibalismBlood and TortureCanon-Typical BehaviorBAMF Helaena Targaryen
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English
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Published:2026-02-26Completed:2026-04-22Words:181,492Chapters:55/55Comments:1,270Kudos:749Bookmarks:160Hits:33,683
The Rat Prince of Westeros
SkilledWarriorKiwi
Chapter 43: The Shepherd
Chapter Text
Cobbler's square was always a busy place. As the name suggested it was a place of craft and repair, where cobblers, seamstresses, leatherworkers, hagglers and dyers all congregated to sell their services. A sept was near the Gate of the Gods along with several bakeries and butchers. There was always a steady stream of people, and that was where the Shepherd chose to begin his works.
He had given up his name, his history, his family. He was naught but the simple son of the Seven and he was here now to shepherd the people of King's Landing to righteousness. As such he only introduced himself as the Shepherd.
His missing hand showed he was no stranger to the violence of the realm and it was his duty to warn the people of the perils in continuing to let the demons of Old Valyria live. Dragons were sin incarnate, monsters carved from the foul sorceries of Valyria which had been punished by the Doom for their hubris. The war between the king and queen after the death of King Viserys proved this, with so many dying in the firestorms.
The First Battle of Tumbleton had resulted in horrific carnage. Only sixty leagues away from King's Landing, Tumbleton had been sacked in the most savage fashion: thousands burned, thousands more drowned attempting to swim across the river to safety, girls and women and crones were ravished until they died, babies were put to the sword with nearly all men butchered in the aftermath and dragons feeding amongst the burning rests as they defiled the dead. The victory Lord Hightower had won with the aid of Prince Daeron and the Betrayer left many at unease and feared they would inflict this type of horrors upon the King's Landers themselves if the city fell. Vermithor had been the greatest of Queen Rhaenyra's dragons and now she had proven to be unable to corral her own men. What would happen when she failed to restrain Prince Daemon, a man known for butchering hapless children in their beds? When she failed to restrain her second eldest son, known for his wicked and horrific sins all told from across the narrow sea?
Many knew Queen Alicent was a pious woman, she had been dedicated to the septs of King's Landing and visited them daily yet even she had been unable to save her children from succumbing to the demons of Old Valyria. It was in their tainted blood and it showed. Maegor the Cruel had failed as well, despite having a devout wife loyal to the Seven of Westeros.
Targaryens and all their get were incestuous aliens, unknown and inhuman and of monstrous origin. The good people of the realm had to awaken and realize having these godless heathens as their rulers only stained their souls and that of the realm itself. Queen Rhaenyra was a wanton woman, fornicating with demons and dozens of men each moon and her Rat Prince shown proved that well. King Aegon had been a slovenly drunk who raped maidens and lay with his own sister, and he had been scorched by fire and disfigured so his inner ugliness was now apparent to those with eyes. Both unfit to rule.
Yet King Aegon had done one invaluable thing in his late rule of King's Landing- in parading Meleys's severed head through the streets, he had shown every man, woman and child of King's Landing the godless demons of Old Valyria could be slaughtered. That within, they were meat and bone. The good people of Westeros simply needed to hack through the sin and it would fell the monsters.
The Shepherd preached daily in the square, warning all those who passed of the sin upon the city and spreading across the realm as the civil war continued. Rook's Rest destroyed, countless towns burnt in dragonflame, dead children and countless orphaned, King Aegon having his head torn off by Prince Ikit, the Targaryens were filled with kinslayers which were the most abhorrent of sinners.
"When dragons come for King's Landing your flesh will burn, blister and turn to ash! Dragonflame can melt stone, your wives will shriek as they burn lewd and naked beneath the flames as their bones melt! Children will weep until their eyes melt, their futures burned away! Queen Rhaenyra is as her late brother the king, both born in depravities by their dragonblood. She is a feckless woman, shaming herself before her wedding day and her children are born of that sin."
As always there was a crowd listening to him. Some eagerly, some mockingly. Before Prince Ikit had returned the crowd had swelled immensely, hearing of Vhagar's burning and slaughtering and remembered Prince Daemon's violence against the people and fearing for their lives. The high taxes exacerbated that as well, people tense and angry as an undeserving queen demanded more of their hard won coin.
Yet since Prince Ikit engaged Braavos the exorbitant taxes had ebbed and many who listened attentively now turned away or even rolled their eyes at him. The Shepherd despaired at how easily the hearts of men were swayed, it was why the Seven sent ones such as he or the Poor Fellows. They had tried to defy the Targaryens and their godless ways but were beat down and forced into secrecy. King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne had done that, even if they were clever enough to use words over dragons. Yet they only ever grew as strong with their monsters to force down the people and righteousness.
Each day he returned, even when people spoke favourably of Queen Rhaenyra in the aftermath of King Aegon's death. When she sent her second son to Tumbleton, with people excitedly speaking of how Silverwing was near rivaling Vhagar in terms of size so the enemy army could be halted. Others spoke of Prince Jacaerys, who was oft seen within the city to speak to the smallfolk and addressing their fears as he charmed the masses. It was a pitiful attempt to sway the populace, in the Shepherd's opinion, yet to his worry it seemed to work. While there was an undercurrent of fear, as in any city within a war, the fact Queen Rhaenyra had solved the treasury problems caused more to look favourably upon her. Same with her sending away her wretched second son to fight the Betrayer and Prince Daeron, to proactively strike at the enemy before they could near the city itself.
To the Shepherd it mattered not for all the driving forces in the civil war were of the same stock. Dragonblood, the madness that came of those begot of godless Valyria.
So for when the new day dawned again he went to his post and began his words anew. Some listened, some ignored, and still he spoke.
"When the Stranger comes to scourge us for our sins, prayers will not sate his wroth! No more than tears can quench the flames of dragon, as with the widows of the Field of Fire! Only blood can do that, our blood, my blood, their blood. Dragons are demons, they are monsters of Valyria. The heavens should be the domain of the gods alone, not these feckless demons and those who ride them! No man, woman or child should ever dare to ascend to the heavens, the sky above is to teach us our place upon their mortal world."
He spoke as the sun rose and continued to do so until it began to slip to the horizon. Smallfolk of all cut and cloth passed him by, and he noticed that any of those who had witnessed Prince Ikit nodded along when he spoke of the godless Targaryens. He hadn't seen the beast himself but he heard talk of the Red Keep, where the soulless demon had walked with those eyes and teeth and accursed magic.
They had to do something to the incestuous aliens and their flying demons, least Westeros be swallowed by the same type of Doom which had righteously destroyed Old Valyria.
At the end of the day, when he went to those who listened and spoke to them more personally, he would always learn more about the senseless civil war. Ser Criston Cole slain, Jason Lannister much the same. The deaths of Vermithor and the Betrayer during the Second Battle of Tumbleton, who according to reports had been eaten alive by Prince Ikit just like Prince Daeron who then committed black magic upon the corpse of the Bronze Fury and the fallen prince. There were mixed reactions about Tumbleton, yet the majority were relieved the Hightower host had been all but annihilated by those loyal to Queen Rhaenyra. The fear the people felt, of having the butchery and rape of the First Battle of Tumbleton be enacted upon them in turn, was beginning to dissipate. Even with Vhagar upon the loose the death of Vermithor was seen as a victory for the queen and even now the Conquest beast would be felled by their queen's warriors.
The Shepherd tried to persuade many otherwise, that if anything this simply vindicated the fact Queen Rhaenyra was unfit for the throne. Her second son was Maegor the Cruel reborn, and who knew what horrors he would wrought upon them when he returned. They all heard true of what happened in Volantis, Prince Ikit had murdered his own great-great aunt Saera and eaten her children. His sin would infest Westeros and the queen would allow it when she was to safeguard the realm.
"Do you really believe that will happen?" one of the younger of the listening group asked him in the aftermath. He had seen the boy several times over the last few days during his preaching, but this was the first time the boy had chosen to speak.
"The queen has done nothing against her unholy son," he answered. "Women are weak when it comes to their children regardless of how vile they show themselves, it is why they should not lead. She has instead embraced the creature back to Westeros after it spent a decade spreading horrors across the narrow sea and has let it loose across the realm. How can we trust her to stop his atrocities? Who knows what horrors he will inflict upon Oldtown, when he gives himself to the godlessness of Valyria? The Starry Sept, where the holiest of men the High Septon resides, is where the demon is heading now. Who knows what black magics he will perform upon the innocent? How many loving wives will die cloaked in flame, how many innocent children will scream as their bones melt?"
"Oldtown supported King Aegon who stole the throne with the help of the Hightowers," the boy said. He was incredibly unassuming, with brown hair, eyes and a pug nose as he asked, "Isn't treason a sin and should be punished? Same with starting a war for greed?"
"This is a war between fellbeasts and those born of the Doom," he lectured. "Neither side should rule over man. Men should be governed by men, not those beyond such a thing and especially those who do not believe in the Seven."
The boy had several other questions, all earnest but combative as is the lot of those entering manhood.
"I think the dead usurper started it," the boy shrugged, picking at the torn hem of his jerkin. "And Prince Aemond murdered his nephew, an envoy. A pious mother for the Green children didn't mean much."
"The dowager queen did her best, yet even she cannot stop the blood of Old Valyria," he scolded.
"I just don't understand why you're blaming the dragons when it seems the men are the problem," the boy said.
"Everyone's blood is their life," the Shepherd told him. "From the lowest to the highest, we cannot change what we are born to. Same as the Targaryens cannot change their blood of dragons, which are feckless creatures. But now we know dragons are not gods, they are flesh and blood and can be beheaded just as any living mortal thing."
The boy's eyes narrowed at that.
"Oh lay off him, beggin' brother," the Tanner called out from his near shop. "Any lad his age believes dragons are glory, no point in tryin' to convince him otherwise. When I was his age I wanted nothin' more than one of 'em."
"My flock can come from any age, wealth or status," the Shepherd replied. "He can listen all the same as he asks."
Still, he had been preaching for a full day and was exhausted as such. He had his begging bowl around his neck, and the people of King's Landing would not deny the faithful a meal least they wish to be cursed by the gods. As was customary after each day, he visited the nearby tavern which had its forever stew and received his nightly meal there as the owners were long faithful and shared his distaste for the Targaryens.
He had no use for riches or the soft decadence of nobility, dressed in a hair shirt and roughspun breeches for no man was truly free of sin as long as dragons roamed the sky and as any begging brother held no coin.
Several of his usual flock, including the boy, joined him even if they paid with coin instead of faith. The boy didn't argue further but instead listened as he continued to speak and warn his flock and those in the tavern of the danger looming before them all within the Red Keep itself.
By the time he was finished with his quieter preaching and eating night had fully fallen over the city. As he prepared to leave back to his home the boy stopped him again just beyond the tavern. His grip was tight on the Shepherd's arm, drawing tiny red crescent marks from his overly sharp nails. The boy immediately apologized, letting go of him as if burned.
"I just don't know what to think, with this war and all the death and stress of it, I apologize for my grip," he said, fussing over the near invisible cuts.
"I have lost a hand, this wound does not even carry a sting," the Shepherd dismissed the boy's worry easily. He'd drawn more blood walking barefoot to Flea Bottom. "I have grown in squalor, seen what the Targaryens leave as scraps for our ilk. The pain of my missing limb does not compare to the suffering of the realm."
"It seems you have suffered much, but with many they only want this war to end and the queen is not the one who started it," the boy said.
"It can be difficult," the Shepherd said. "We rarely think more than our daily bread, of the turn of seasons. To think of the evil holding authority across the land, it can be daunting. Frightening. But we have seen, dragons are only flesh and bone. Prince Aemon, King Maegor, Prince Baelon- Targaryens are not invulnerable, their dragons even so. They can be thrown down like any other. The queen bears her responsibility for all these deaths just as her bothers do yet they are not gods. They may call us fools, akin to the squeaking and bothers of rats. Fools, aye that I may be to think we can be free of these creatures, but a fool can kill a king. Rats as well yet a thousand rats can bring down a bear."
"You have given me a lot to think upon, ser."
"I am no ser, I am simply a Shepherd seeking to lead this flock."
They parted ways then, the boy heading off deeper into the city while the Shepherd made his way back to the poorer districts. The cold was settling in with winter's approach, even if it would not mean anything if they all perished in dragonflame. Something had to be done for the monsters ruling over them.
Here in the forgotten poor district of King's Landing there were far more who thought the way he did. Those who already lost family to the senseless war, who had lived under the oppression of the alien invaders when Aegon the Conqueror began to spread fire and death across the Seven Kingdoms. Those who yearned to be free of the creatures in the sky.
As the Shepherd fell asleep upon his straw bed, he was heedless to the way the tiny cuts upon his arm were growing. Green lines beginning to crack out from them, spidering across his arm as he slumbered. Black veins pulsated from the incurable poison but still he slept as he died painlessly.
The following morn, when the sun had risen high, one of the locals sought to wake him. After all the Shepherd was known to preach from dusk until dawn yet she had not seen him for quite some time since daybreak.
Instead when she opened the ragged wooden door to the hovel, her screams brought the attention of everyone nearby. And it was then the Shepherd was found dead with his remains being feasted upon by hundreds of squeaking rats.
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