Game of Dragonborn-Chapter 193 – The Sentence for the North 03.

[Chapter Size: 2900 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Winterfell.
...
...
"I accept," Daemon said. "Three days from now, when the sun reaches its highest point, we will meet in the courtyard. Before dusk we will decide what the gods will accept."
With those words, Daemon determined Lord Stark's future, and it would be decided in that duel.
"You may walk around the castle as you always have, as long as you commit no crimes. You will be treated here as a guest. And I would recommend that you train. And if this satisfies you, I swear by all the gods of this world that I will not use magic during our combat." He spoke.
This surprised the Northern nobles, given Daemon's rather patient treatment of the uncle who had turned his childhood into hell; whispers spread among them about what would happen. Remarks about Lord Stark's death and about Daemon—despite seeming kind—perhaps wishing to taste the sight and feeling of Lord Stark perishing by Daemon's sword, were heard. Daemon almost laughed when he heard that he must have arranged this just for the chance to kill him himself.
But the king simply ignored it while he waited for the men to absorb some of this information before continuing. He raised his hand and everyone quickly stopped their conversations and looked at the king.
"Let us continue," he said after a moment.
Daemon opened his right hand and a book appeared, with him gripping the tome of the records of High Septon Maynard.
He heard a few gasps at him using a bit of magic — something most were already accustomed to, but there were always people to impress with tricks.
"Ser Barristan Selmy, I want you to read this aloud and pass it to all the guests. It is time for me to prove my claim to the Iron Throne, upon which I already sit." Jon did not fail to mock as Barristan approached and opened the book where Daemon had already indicated. He then took the tome and, before his voice roared through the hall, he began to read:
"... So that afternoon I wed Prince Rhaegar to his second wife, Queen Lyanna Targaryen, formerly Stark. From then on, she was declared the second rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms once Rhaegar would take the crown after his father's death. And all of her children shall have claim to the throne, after the children of Elia Targaryen, formerly Martell." He said, as the place grew agitated with all sorts of gossip about it. However, Barristan Selmy continued.
"Some moons passed and Queen Lyanna began to show her first signs of pregnancy. Prince Rhaegar declared it would be a girl and that her name would be Visenya Targaryen, while the future Queen Lyanna herself declared it would be a boy and said his name would be Daemon Targaryen."
The place fell silent after that. All eyes were fixed on the old knight.
"Tell me, Ser Barristan Selmy, is this legitimate?" Daemon asked.
"Most certainly, my king. I swear upon my honor that I have read some letters from High Septon Maynard and I recognize his handwriting. This is legitimate, a legitimate document that no one could question the origin of, like a true Targaryen prince." He filled his lungs to say this. In fact, the knight was telling the truth and was truly moved by such a document.
"Well, I never believed that your mother had truly run away. I don't need a high septon's book to believe that," Maege Mormont broke the silence of the hall.
"Your words are very welcome, Lady Mormont," Daemon said and continued with a small pause. "Although it is impossible to rely solely on the kindness of my lords. I know my strength is already known, my powers are recognized, and I know that almost all of you fear me. However, even so, I am here to claim fairly. I will bring fire and blood to the enemies of my house and gladly accept the allies who come to drink with me. But I still need to prove, above all, that I fight for something that is my birthright; otherwise, I would not have a chance to make some good men follow me."
Daemon spoke in such a way that the message was clear: 'I am trying to save as many men as I can, because if they are not with me, they will simply die.'
"Anyway..." Daemon returned to the knight on the verge of tears. "I want you to pass the book to each of the nobles. I want them to look at the handwriting, examine the book, and sincerely tell me that they do not believe what is written there and tell me why."
Daemon spoke while one of the men in the group took the first steps. The book was handed directly, and the message was clear: no speeches were needed. The tome was passed to the other nobles, one by one, while Daemon waited patiently on the throne.
"If anyone wishes to say something against it, speak now. I will not harm logical questions or inquiries," Daemon said, but no one spoke.
"We believe in what is written there, my king," Lord Tallhart said, smiling as the hall remained silent. Daemon looked at his uncle, not expecting a response — he himself had claimed to have rescued him at the Tower of Joy when his sister was dying, making a promise he had not even been able to fulfill properly.
His cousins kept their usual expressions. Arya looked a little enraged, still shaken by the fear of her father's death. Bran, sitting in the chair they had placed for him, was a bit frightened along with Rickon, but silent; Robb seemed lost, frustrated. They barely paid attention to the rest of the trial.
"Good," Daemon said, putting the book away after Barristan returned it to him. "However, in the North, it is easier to prove if it is true; perhaps the book is not even that important. But in the South, the courts are more demanding. Even having a dragon, and a Targaryen wife, they can still accuse you of being a 'false king' or even call you a Targaryen bastard."
"Now, with these matters concluded: the question of the army of the dead, the trial of my uncle, and the proof of who I am. Let us move on to the judgment of the prisoners. Bring them one by one," Daemon said, while the men who had brought the wight — still growling inside the coffin — were led to the dungeons.
The first was none other than Lady Alys Karstark's great-uncle. Arnolf Karstark and his son Gregan.
"What do we have here? A traitor to his own blood, trying to take control of what belongs to his niece, the rightful heir. Even forcing a marriage between her and your son Gregan Karstark, which could even be considered rape — married or not, you were forcing her into it, against her will..." Daemon began. Alys Karstark kept her eyes fixed on her great-uncle, full of anger and hatred.
"She is a woman, she should not have the right to Karhold! Her father was killed by Robb Stark when my brother was executed like a dog. I refuse to be judged by you, grandson of the Mad King, and I refuse to see you beside the daughter of the Mad King, while I am judged... by a bastard born of rape!" Arnolf bellowed, enraged. The entire hall grew tense.
"Big words for someone who did what you did," Daemon replied. "I will not keep repeating your crimes. Blood traitor — do you have anything to say to these two relatives here?" He then turned to the girl.
"Not much," she said, with a voice fiercer than her age should allow. "I only wish them a good trip to the Wall, and that he rots there." Alys thundered.
"He is not going to the Wall," Daemon declared, glancing at the jailer. "He will be executed. He can mourn together with his brother in the seven hells, who also betrayed the orders of his leader during the war, killing prisoners of war without trial." Daemon announced as a great scandal.
"I do not agree with many things Robb did," Daemon declared to all. "However, I hate rebels and traitors. Now, take him away. Only his son will be taken to the Wall."
While the man was still stunned by the declaration of his death, free folk men seized him and began dragging him out, along with his son who remained silent the entire time.
Whispers and sighs lived among the nobles. Daemon had already declared the death of one of them — perhaps because of Arnolf's words or simply because he hated traitors; no one truly knew, but it was obvious both reasons carried weight in that decision.
"Mor Umber" was brought. The young Ned Umber looked nervous, unlike Alys, when he saw his relative.
Daemon ignored the bear man's furious gaze and began. "Do not misunderstand me, Mor Umber; you seem like a decent man who fights for what is right. However, the North I want to build must be without the hatred for the free folk that you place into your actions. I cannot allow men like you to undermine how the North will be restructured from now on with the presence of the free folk," Daemon said, while Mors continued to glare at him with anger.
He was completely disheveled and dirty, but he still held a fierce gaze. Even after everything he had seen Daemon do. After all, Last Hearth had been taken by him easily, with only one man running through the gate under the castle's arrows.
"You think I will accept rapists and looters in our lands?! Then kill me! After all, you have already sent men to plunder innocent people of the North. I know everyone has heard it: if you listen to this man, he will leave your villages desolate, he will rape your wives and daughters, he will burn your houses and kill you. Don't you see? He is a damned lover of savages, with those... creatures he brought from beyond the Wall," Mor shouted, and the whole hall was horrified and quickly looked to Daemon.
"Perhaps it was a mistake to show you a wight separately, before beginning the judgment of the prisoners..." he asked himself calmly. Daemon had almost hoped for that man. Mor, who did not know what he was saying.
"Mors..." Mors Umber heard Ned Stark argue, while the older man stared at him with anger and began to shout about loyalty.
Suddenly, he felt something cover his body; a shiver ran through him entirely, and he felt his body begin to move against his will. No — he was floating while everyone gasped.
Daemon raised his hand, and the body simply stretched out, floating while Mors looked on in horror. Daemon almost seemed as if he wanted to twist him with his gaze. "Let me show you something, the main reason why I brought the free folk," Daemon began, as the coffin, in turn, began to rise. Many had not even noticed it, thinking the sounds were merely like those of dogs, coming from deep within it.
"It is true that men attacked villages — three hundred of the free folk simply left the camp and began plundering, killing men and raping women," he began. "It was my mistake, a mistake that I myself tried to make right, because I, alone, together with my dragon, fought against the three hundred. Well, I would not call that a fight; after all, I killed all three hundred without mercy, to the last. And what did I do with the one who led them? I gave him special treatment: I tore out his soul so he could never rest, not with the gods, nor even in the hells."
Daemon declared this while Mor Umber's body and the coffin floated, meeting each other; the lid of the coffin snapped open, and Mors recoiled in shock as the creature within emerged, roaring with rage. The wight sank its teeth into the bars and lunged; Mor was left bleeding and screaming.
"Daemon, please, stop this! This is too much!" Lord Stark shouted, pleading, while Jon was already separating the two from each other. One of the former prisoner's eyes had been torn out; it no longer existed, blood pouring down.
"I will not let him be devoured by the wight. But I will make sure he remembers who he fought against. You will go to the Wall and fight the undead along with all the other men we send. When you think of your left eye, you will remember why we need the free folk here south of the Wall; otherwise, there would be no reason for us to bear hatred toward them. He will be banished from the Seven Kingdoms so that we may prosper," Daemon declared. Despite the horrible treatment the man had suffered — the loss of sight in one eye — no one protested.
"Mor Umber brought this upon himself when he started insulting everyone," someone murmured.
Mors was taken to be treated by the maester, and another prisoner arrived, the Umber prisoner similar to Arnolf Karstark, although this one simply begged Daemon for help to take Last Hearth for himself when he saw the army. He began to cry and beg for forgiveness while Daemon described his sins: attempting to usurp his own family — yet another blood traitor.
"I declare your death," was what Daemon said in the end, and the man was dragged out by force in tears, screaming for mercy.
The next prisoner was Lady Dustin, who did not even look at Daemon's face. Daemon's mother had left a deep mark on him; her arrogance had long since crumbled, and it seemed that the last word to leave her mouth would be something like "bastard."
"For your betrayal of Robb, you will be sent to the Silent Sisters," Daemon declared. The woman was not dangerous on her own; there was no need to kill her there. Seeing how her life would end would be something more painful for her than death itself.
"Now bring me our last prisoner of this official judgment," Daemon said, and no one disagreed, not even the woman, after Lady Dustin was taken back to the dungeons.
A trembling man came soon after, unable to look at anyone, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"Theon Greyjoy," Daemon began, saying the name with a certain irony.
That boy who liked to torment him in Winterfell when they were children, calling him a bastard and saying he would be nothing, even calling his mother some prostitute Lord Stark had for one night, in the jokes he made while trying to discover his origin or simply to provoke him in the training yard.
Now, years later, the roles were reversed. Daemon sat on the Throne as king, and Theon was a broken eunuch, known for his betrayal and for the tortures he had suffered. Fate seemed to enjoy playing with all of them.
The Starks were divided. Lord Stark kept a look of deep disappointment for his former ward who had turned against his family and the house where he had lived most of his life.
Robb looked at him with hatred. Bran and Rickon were caught between anger and discomfort. But Arya once again drew Daemon's attention — she looked at Theon with a murderous glare, the gaze of someone who would never forget who he killed within those walls, Ser Rodrik, Maester Luwin and others, who suffered because of him and his betrayal.
"For crimes of treason, for killing the men who raised you, like a damned coward, you are sentenced to death," Daemon declared.
Theon began to cry, but he said nothing in protest. He seemed to accept his fate. Daemon felt no pity. Regret was useless after the acts were done. Even believing that Theon might be remorseful would not change anything he had already done. The lives he had taken because of his actions and the betrayals he committed.
"With this, we conclude the judgment," Daemon announced. "Now I want to speak about our plans for the North and for the South, but before that, I want to speak of the formalization of my marriage with my aunt, Daenerys Targaryen, which will take place tomorrow."
Daenerys looked at him in surprise. She knew an announcement would be made, but not that it would be so immediate. Daemon simply winked at her, as if showing that he had some information she did not.
"Do not look at me like that, my future wife. All the northern nobles are already here, so why not end this soon?" Daemon said — and his gaze went directly to her belly. She did not know yet, but she was pregnant.
This thanks to Ghost, who saw that she had conceived his seed.
So it was better to marry as soon as possible.
-----
Raccoon Here:
I want one more chapter to define how the North will be structured with the free folk integrating and taking over the lands that have no lords.
I made a mistake about Alys Karstark. I had written at the beginning of the conquest that it was her uncle who wanted to marry her, if I'm not mistaken, but it was her great-uncle who wanted to marry her to Gregan Karstark and claim Karhold through that.
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