…Chapter Start
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(...A Moon Later)
The sound of hooves reverberates loudly, each step kicking back dirt as the stallions cut through the wind unperturbed. The riders of these beasts would inch closer and closer with each advancement of the horses and in their hand would be lances and shields poised at each other.
-Crash- The sound of their lances striking shields and the bursting of wood would follow—the force pushing both men back on their saddle but holding firm under the weight of the blow.
At the sight of this, the crowd raised their voices in high-pitched screams, a telltale to their enjoyment. Making it to the other end of the field before making a sharp turn the knights held an outstretched arm out to their squires before calling out
"Lance!" They said before gripping the outstretched lances and advancing again & this time with the cracking of wood against steel…someone fell from horseback onto the floor alongside their desire for more glory…or is it?
The other knight, however, was bathed in it as he took his victory lap around the field not aware that his downed foe wasn't finished with him yet.
"Sword!" He bellowed, causing the crowd to quiet down as everyone started to whisper.
"He wants to continue!" - One said.
"Yeah, earn me some money!!!" - Another said.
In this age, some rather glory over all else: over lands and women, but there is one thing that not even glory can surpass, and that's a man's honor, and with this duel, their honor was to clash for all to see.
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(Daemon's Pov)
"It's time…this is going to either make or break me," Daemon said to himself as he doused his face in water and blinked it away.
His breathing was ragged, staring at his reflection in the water—was he really about to do this? The thought crossed his mind with each day the tournament inched closer, and with each day this plagued his mind…he wouldn't sit there and lie. He wasn't some fearless warrior—which was a good thing. Fear keeps you sane and that he was.
He dipped his hand back into the water throwing more at his face before slapping his cheek…Ser Barristan rode in his first tournament even younger than he!
"No more looking back Daemon…you made a choice..live by it." He said to himself before he steadied his breathing, keeping his gaze on the water before smirking, "Time to show these bastards hell." He said to himself.
He turned away and moved to his quarters, which were moderate in size with the occasional decorations here and there, nothing too extravagant, but it was something he felt attached to in some way—there most definitely could be worse, so he isn't complaining.
He moved to his body before crouching and reaching under his bed where he would see the pieces of the silver armor set his uncle had bought him a moon ago, and the castle-forged bastard sword, while not compared to his Goldfyre, was still better compared to most.
"The tournament starts tomorrow…first the melee, then the joust. That should be a special match in itself Father riding against Ser Barristan. That would be a sight indeed." He commented.
He unsheathed the sword, staring at its cold steel and rubbing his finger alongside the flat side of the weapon before getting in some practice swings with the blade, which was well-proportional with his strength and not hindering himself should he face more than one in the melee.
"A thousand thanks, Uncle Tyrion." He said softly before sheathing the sword and sliding it and the armor pieces back under the bed.
'Father relieved me from my squire duties today so it's not like I'm occupied for today.' He thought before exiting his chambers—not forgetting to lock it can't ever be safe when living in the Red Keep.
Daemon started to walk around the Red Keep, and at one point, he walked past the King's room, which was being guarded by Ser Meryn of the Kingsguard, who stared at him with a steel-like expression, and, from what he could decipher, the king was rather vigorous in his activities.
'Not like he is getting any slimmer from them.' He thought before chuckling to himself quickly shuffling ahead and making a quick right turn.
'No wonder he sired so many bastards.' Daemon thought with a smirk, knowing that his aunt fumes at the act, but he shook his head. It wasn't honorable for him to enjoy another's plight.
"A walk around King's Landing would do me some good, wouldn't it? Yeah, let's do that." He said to himself before looking around to see if anyone was looking before going towards a secluded pathway that not even most are aware of.
He double-checks before pushing against a wall where it would giveaway to a tunnel—a secret passage that he had figured out when he was younger when he had tried to hide away from the torment of those within the castle he even made a little game that he could find all the tunnels within the keep and so far he had found a majority of them.
Quickly entering and closing the entrance, Daemon started his little exploration through the passageways, going unnoticed by everyone within the castle. Hell, probably not even the spider could find him, and he had his ears everywhere.
"It's said that Maegor Targaryen killed every mason that constructed these pathways. To think a boy of 10 and 5 would find them is…rare," A voice said softly causing Daemon to pause before holding his head down to mask a smile…it seemed that even he had his ears here but not his birds.
"Good Morrow to you, Lord Varys, and yes, I stumbled upon this by accident." He replied coolly. Daemon didn't have a bad outlook on the eunuch as he didn't come off as someone like Petyr Baelish.
"Please spare me the false titles. I'm no Lord, but you may one day be, son of Jamie." He replied curtly.
When Varys speaks, it has a firm, enchanting tone that makes the listener want to hear more from the man- that's what Daemon had on him so far, and there wasn't any condescending into it.
"A lord you say? I wouldn't say no to it as that means lands and status in the eyes of the court, but I don't see that possible in a long time—but pray tell, how did you discover these tunnels, Varys?" Daemon responded before questioning the spider.
"Even spiders can fit through the tiniest cracks in armor and helms, Son of Jamie, castles included," Varys responded, causing him to nod.
"Please, call me Daemon, and don't mind me. I'm just exploring-" He got cut off, "It matters not. You are a child of hardship, Daemon, and If you don't mind, what do you think of the King's heir?" Varys asked, causing Daemon to raise an eyebrow.
"The prince-" He said but was cut off, causing Daemon to narrow his eyes, "Be truthful, Daemon." He said his voice slightly higher than a whisper.
"And why should I even say anything to a man they call the Spider? The master of whispers in the King's court to the king specifically, "Why should I trust you?" He asked, trying to gain answers from the man.
"No more than to trust a bastard, or so they say in tales Daemon…a bastard always wanting what their brothers have by rights, examples being the entire Blackfyre lineage." Varys swiftly debunked smiling while doing so.
"Touché, but frankly, if the King passed, the realm is in for another Maegor or worse, Aerys." He replied everyone knows the tendencies of the King's firstborn son. The boy killed a pregnant cat just to see the kittens in its belly.
"But men would follow him all the same," Varys replied but Daemon followed, "Men followed Aerys…we saw where that ended up." He muttered.
"Daemon, let me ask you one question: let's use Aerys as an example. Why do you think people followed Aerys? Let me tell you, it was most definitely not fear, although some would say it's a key component, but in truth, it wasn't." He replied, causing Daemon to nod and reply, "It was because he was King, and with the crown, he had power."
Varys chuckled, smiling at the boy. He had insight and the ability to converse with him, not like the first child of King Robert Baratheon, the first of his name.
"Daemon, you say that so certainly, but it isn't so simple," Varys said, causing Daemon to raise an eyebrow as he was interested in what he had to say.
"Enlighten me. If not the crown, then what?" He asked, "A king is a man dressed in mere silk and jewelry—seated on a throne and wearing a crown that is all but a symbol. Aerys had power because people believed he did. The lords bent the knee, not to him but to the idea of him. His power lived in their belief, and when that belief faded, his throne burned with it alongside the golden sword that your father slew him with."
Daemon thought about what Varys was saying before chipping in, "So power is a delusion? So wouldn't that mean the throne is worthless then?" Hearing this Varys smiled.
"No more worthless than the paper of a promissory note or a knight's oath, Worthless unless people agree it has meaning," Varys replied. "Then should Joffrey be a would-be-Aerys if he sits the throne wouldn't men follow?" Daemon asked.
Varys nodded. "They will—for a time. But ask yourself, Daemon: what happens when belief wavers? When lord's whisper in those dark halls, when smallfolk mutter behind closed doors and fear turns to defiance?"
Daemon replied, "Then power shifts, and everything that was built upon crumbles." causing Varys to smile and reply,
"Exactly. Power is not in the throne, nor the crown, nor even the man who wears it. It is in whispers, in perception, in the hearts of those who serve or refuse to serve. That, my dear Daemon, is the truth of power—it is an illusion, but illusions can rule empires." He said before patting the boy on the shoulder.
"That is all I have to say for now, but should you pursue the path of knighthood or lordship, always remember this little pep talk, Daemon. It could be life-changing. This would be a whisper only kept secret between the both of us, farewell for now." He said before moving past Daemon and through one of the many pathways.
"So that's the spider? Interesting I'll remember this." He said as he continued his walk through the hidden passageways unperturbed.
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…Chapter Ends