Game of Dragonborn-Chapter 191 – The Sentence for the North 01.

[Chapter Size: 2400 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Winterfell.
...
...
"Enter," was all Daemon said that morning, with the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, while he was in the solar of Winterfell, reviewing a few more letters.
The door soon opened with his permission, and Ned Stark himself entered. Daemon lifted his gaze to his uncle.
"You are here, uncle. How have you been?" he asked calmly, noticing that the man had not slept that night.
Lord Stark looked toward the door closing, before facing Daemon with a serious expression. "I had a discussion with the ghost of my sister. But I believe you already know that," he said in an indifferent tone.
Daemon almost smiled, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "Well, I'm glad you have been speaking with my mother. However, I will not ask about your conversations, they are not mine."
Daemon stood and looked at Lord Stark seriously, extending his hand. "I will not take much of your time. Everyone is already gathering in the throne room. I only want you to keep this."
A glow appeared in Daemon's hand — and a great sword appeared before Ned, who looked somewhat surprised.
"I know your son said that I was in possession of the Stark sword in the Riverlands. Regardless, you will need it. Take Ice. I am returning it now, before I recount my little sad story, which involved you torturing me when I was just a child. I hope you do not lie there in front of everyone," Daemon said.
Lord Stark simply nodded. After that, Lord Stark left the solar while Daemon finished his final tasks.
He adjusted his clothes with a noble doublet, called a few guards to watch over the solar, and went directly to the throne room on the first floor.
Even before he arrived, murmurs from the men could be heard.
There was no training in the yard that day.
There was no audience with the people.
The judgment would be entirely dedicated to the future of the North and the wounds that still bled, with matters from the past.
When Daemon entered in a dignified manner, followed by two free folk men who acted as his guards, the entire hall fell silent.
Everyone looked at him and at the Iron Throne, displayed in the highest place of the hall — nothing more fitting, occupying the place of the throne of winter.
People whispered about the fact that he had taken the throne of King's Landing and was using it as his own chair so far north. The very chair that Aegon the Conqueror had struggled to obtain, sacrificing a wife and her dragon in the process, was now being carried from one place to another by his descendant.
Daemon offered a slight smile toward the side of the throne. Where Daenerys sat with Ser Barristan Selmy guarding her, and beside her were Lucis, Ygritte, and Val.
On the other side of the throne was Mance, whom Daemon had asked to remain in that position. Closest to the throne, facing him, were Lord Cerwyn and Lord Tallhart, whom Daemon made a point of highlighting as his main allies, the first to join him.
Daemon walked past everyone in silence as he made his way to the throne, greeting a few people: his future wife, his spear-wives, Mance, and others.
He turned and slowly sat in the chair.
His violet eyes glowed, gazing at each person present.
The hall was restless.
For most there, since arriving in Winterfell, it was the first time they had seen the Iron Throne so close. The object that drew all the greed and ambition of Westeros.
And now, in Winterfell.
In the hands of a Stark-Targaryen.
Daemon settled comfortably on the throne as his eyes scanned the crowd.
All the main members of the free folk were there. The young Lord Umber and Lady Karstark were closer to Lord Cerwyn and Lord Tallhart. Then followed the main members of the mountain clans present, Lord Glover, Lord Manderly, Lord Reed. The Stark children joined their father, while everyone stared nervously at Daemon, Lord Stark maintained a serious expression despite his fatigue, and he held Ice in his hands.
There were also representatives of the Iron Bank and many lesser nobles who came with their lords.
"Hello, my lords." His voice was projected deliberately with the power of the Thu'um, echoing like thunder throughout the hall.
This left the men even more uneasy, but no one dared open their mouth.
"As you know, today we mark our meeting to address all matters of the North. I could have chosen the banquet hall, but I found it inappropriate. That is why we are here."
Daemon paused before continuing. "We want to discuss everything that has been happening in the North. And I also understand some of your caution regarding this entire situation involving the free folk."
It was obvious that, even in silence, there was distrust among the nobles. The free folk had been enemies of the North for thousands of years. Sharing the same hall with them must have been infuriating.
But before Daemon — the central point preventing immediate bloodshed between the two peoples — they tolerated one another, waiting to hear what the self-proclaimed heir of Westeros had to say.
"First, I want to explain why almost two hundred thousand free folk came with me through the Wall. Not because I needed an army. Honestly, we came to an agreement and they followed me, honoring their words and their promises to me. But they needed to cross the Wall because everything beyond it is dying. Men, animals... everything is being devastated."
Daemon declared openly, while the men murmured among themselves.
Whispers arose:
"There's an undead in Winterfell."
"I heard he's locked in the dungeons."
"They say there are wildlings speaking of the dead rising... and that they burn the corpses beyond the Wall."
Those conversations spread throughout the hall while Daemon remained seated on the throne, silent, waiting for the men to calm down before continuing.
He had many matters to address, but he first needed to justify why he led the free folk — and why he had entered the North. At least then, the lords would be less dissatisfied with his next demands.
"Bring the creature," Daemon requested to one of the free folk men in their group — the man simply nodded before leaving, accompanied by others.
Then Daemon turned to everyone again:
"As soon as I returned to Westeros, I was north of the Wall. I did not have much information about what was happening. So I explored the place, my first goal was to go to the Wall, because I did not care much about the lands beyond... And I even found a group of free folk, but they tried to attack me... and, well, I killed them all." Daemon shrugged, without any remorse.
The entire hall froze at the simplicity with which he said that. But it was true: he simply released his shout with overwhelming force and slaughtered everyone instantly.
"When night came, I made camp, and during my sleep, I noticed creatures wandering alone through the forests. They were drawn to my presence. And I realized they were men... but dead men, with glowing blue eyes." He observed each attentive face. "My lords, I am speaking of the undead." He paused again.
"The White Walkers and the army of the dead are real. Whether you choose to believe it or not. And at this very moment, they are north of the Wall waiting to attack us."
A new wave of murmurs erupted throughout the hall.
"The army of the dead?" Lord Stark could not help but ask as he raised his voice, exchanging a look with his eldest son.
"It might as well be a joke, right?" Lord Glover muttered, while Lord Manderly grumbled lowly.
Maege cast a tense look at Daemon, while her daughter leaned close beside young Lyanna Mormont, who had arrived in recent days and kept a serious gaze fixed on Daemon, though she said nothing.
"I joined Mance's army shortly after to learn more, since I never imagined necromancy existed in this world. At my side is Mance Rayder — at the time I joined his group, he was in Winterfell for weeks as the bard Abel; if any of you were here during that time, and pay attention to his face, you will recognize it." Daemon mocked, while several men grimaced at hearing that reference.
"In any case, I was with the free folk for more than a moon before going south and learning more about the White Walkers. I knew that the people beyond the Wall would all be massacred and turned into creatures — they would only become more numbers for the army of the dead."
"And even if some tried to pass the Wall, the North would not accept them. And even if they managed to take the Wall with more difficulty than I had, none of you would accept them. An endless war would begin while the dead drew ever closer to the Wall, gaining the advantage with you killing one another...," Daemon said. "I did not know what would happen if I hadn't helped them and formed an alliance; certainly you would have had nearly 200,000 more dead added to the army of the chief necromancer of the White Walkers to face."
"Despite everything, I do not think my arrival north of the Wall was in vain. Those who sent me here needed me to see the threat to the realm of men before I sought my revenge. That is why I committed to bringing them South. We made a deal: they drew their swords for me and I will give them a chance to survive and even lands to cultivate." As he said this, although surprised by the account, the men of the North immediately raised their voices.
"Do you wish to take our lands to give to the wildlings?" shouted a man of the North.
"This is madness, my king! Please, reconsider — we have been enemies for thousands of years!" exclaimed another.
Daemon stared at them, raising one hand. "Yes, you killed thousands of them and they also killed thousands of you long ago. Everyone here agrees on that. However, we have a common enemy. We must leave what our ancestors did behind and unite if we want to defeat this common enemy. He will not care if you are man or woman, child or elder; he will not care what name or lineage you bear." He paused, looking at each of the faces present, while his purple eyes seemed to glow.
"If you fall before them, you will have a fate worse than death: there will be no rest or meeting with your gods. You will wake with blue eyes, be a slave and lose your will. All that follows will be the will of the White Walkers for eternity if he allows it. Is that what you wish for yourselves and your children? Do you want your ancestors to rise from their graves and be slaves, as well as all who fall before the king of the dead?"
Everyone fell silent at that moment, but Daemon had not finished.
"Moreover, there are empty lands. Bolton lands, Hornwood lands, the Neck and Dustin… all are unoccupied lands in the North at this time, without lordship. Not to mention the western coast, where I still do not have a clear idea of what is happening due to the damage from Ironborn attacks. My men are returning from there now, but it was probably the most devastated area."
He continued. "There were not enough people in the North before to occupy all these regions. The situation worsened even more with the war in the south, internal crisis and the Ironborn born in your lands... The free folk will be welcome to begin cultivating them. But do not expect this to come without conditions."
Daemon looked directly at the free folk. "Each of the children of your leaders will be raised in a noble castle, so that they learn to live, cultivate and fight under the laws of the North."
It was at that moment that the free folk seemed to be offended.
"Damage, this is madness!" one of them shouted, and even Mance frowned.
"Silence!" Daemon roared.
His voice echoed through the hall, making everyone fall silent immediately.
"I'm not saying you are obliged. Those who wish to live in the South must learn the rules of this land. Obviously, those who do not want to live here or do not want their children to form bonds with the North — so that no war breaks out again in the future — are welcome to return beyond the Wall after the war. When the White Walkers are destroyed, of course."
The murmurs ceased.
Even the lords seemed more reasonable after that explanation.
"Anyway... Our friend has just arrived." Daemon said, looking toward the entrance of the hall.
Men entered the hall at that moment, carrying a large box, a coffin to be precise. There was a growl coming from inside. This frightened everyone.
It was a reinforced wooden coffin, with iron bars where the head would be exposed. Inside, a creature growled and struck the sides with its own teeth.
The adult men went pale.
The women watching recoiled with screams, breathing quickly.
Even Maege swallowed hard.
And Ned had also lost the color of his face.
The children trembled with fear.
"Set it on its feet for all to see," Daemon ordered.
The men lifted the box, exposing the creature, thrashing, while they stared at them with blue eyes.
Daemon did not fail to look at Daenerys — she was nervous, but steady. She had already seen these creatures in the camp, before the crossing.
Daemon rose from the Iron Throne for the first time, walking slowly to the side of the undead.
His gaze swept over each of the lords of the North, the free folk and the foreign guests. The representatives of the Iron Bank looked on in fear — and Daemon did not blame them.
"There is an army of these creatures north of the Wall at this very moment, and they are only waiting for the right moment to come down to the South..."
"It is for this reason that I do not want only the Seven Kingdoms in the name of my family again; I also want everyone here, on the Wall, fighting against the army of the dead. Otherwise, if we lose, we will all become these things," John said slowly.
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Raccoon here:
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