Yi Ti 300 AC.
Daario Naharis.
The more he held the Arakh and swung it, the more it felt natural to him. Just like with his lady, it felt as if he'd been born to wield this blade and when he used it against the straw dummies, he saw glimpses of the power it contained. He'd never wielded Valyrian Steel before and while he wasn't completely certain the Arakh was made from the famed metal, he felt it must be. When he'd asked Chai Yen how the blade had kept its edge, he'd been told that their god willed it so and where once that would have made him think the man who said such a thing to be a fool, he knew better now.
Walking around with the blade on his hip, he felt different, almost invincible and he heard the voice in his head telling him that against most men, he was. Though against one he was certain he was not and to beat Daemon Targaryen would require all his skill and cunning. The Arakh gave him equal footing though. It allowed the match to be one that he would not be afraid of and for that alone he was grateful. As he was for the attention of Chai Yen's daughter, the silver-haired Lyseni-looking girl was perhaps one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen and the twinkling in her violet eyes showed her own interest clearly.
At the feast that Chai Yen held for him and Pyat, the girl spoke to him and him alone, her voice was soft and melodic. Just listening to her was enough to make him hard and though he worried it was some ploy on her father's part, he found he cared not. He wished to bed her and so bed her he would. Damn the consequences. For he walked with a god's favor after all. So even when he caught how pleased her father looked at their conversation, he ignored it and drank and spoke to the girl, and she alone, right up until he took his leave and made for his bed.
He felt her eyes on him as he left, knew her father was looking too, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chai Yen nod his head. When he reached his room, he half expected that Pyat Pree would join him before the girl would. The warlock now serving as a guard almost as he had with Xaro back in Qarth. That he did not come to warn him off what he wished to do, Daario took as a sign that there was no true danger in bedding the God Emperor's daughter, now all he had to do was wait for the girl to come to him so he could do so. It was not a long wait and that she came through a secret entrance and not the door, should have given him pause, though it did not.
"You are a most interesting man, Daario Naharis. One that even my father is intrigued by." the girl said as she walked towards him "Though mine own interest is not the same as his." she said as she moved her hand behind her head and her dress fell to the ground.
Clothed he thought she was beautiful, naked she was otherworldly. Her body was as perfect as any could be. From her firm breasts to her slender waist and to what looked to be incredibly soft silver hair between her legs. The smile she wore when she saw how his eyes roamed over her body was downright wicked. As for how she licked her lips as she moved closer to him, it was as if he was prey and she had decided to devour him. Which given how she dropped to her knees and unfastened his britches, she may very well be about to do.
"Why me?" he asked curiously, his words strangled somewhat as her fingers wrapped around his manhood.
"Because you have our god's favor and I seek what only you can give me."
He knew he should ask her what she meant by that. Daario heard the voice in the back of his head tell him that he should. But as her lips met his hard cock, all thoughts left him, and looking down on her as she began to take him into her mouth, he was lost. As he was when after she'd eaten her fill. She then moved him to the bed and undressed him completely. It was not until she began to ride on top of him that he felt able to move and when he spun so she was beneath him, he heard her soft laugh. Then it was only the sound of moans that he heard for the rest of the night. His own being as loud as hers were as he filled her with his seed more than once.
She was gone when he woke the next morning and he felt her loss. As he did when he broke his fast. There was no sign of her for the rest of the day and not even for their main meal that night and when he asked after her, he was told that she'd left the city itself and wouldn't return for some time. It annoyed him somewhat, angered him, and were they not to leave the city themselves, then he may have expressed that anger to someone other than Pyat Pree. The warlock though just smiled as if he knew more than he let on and let him rant and rave about being used by the girl.
"Was it not something you most enjoyed, Daario Naharis?" Pyat asked when Daario had finished his tirade.
"That's not the point."
"Is it not?"
"I don't like being used." he declared with indignation.
"We are all but servants of our god, Daario Naharis, perhaps in this, you served him too."
Though he wasn't certain he believed the warlock, he let his words calm him and they said their goodbyes to Chai Yen, and Pol Qo, and they quickly left Carcosa behind. The God-Emperor had told him once more that when he took Bu Gai's head, he was to do so using the Arakh he'd been gifted and once he did so, he'd see their god's power once more. With those words and the gift of two heads in baskets that were anyone to look at they'd see the two men who Bu Gai wished dead, they were set back on their path.
He dreamt of her each night on the journey back to Yin. Her silver hair and violet eyes almost seemed to haunt him and her words to him made little sense. She thanked him for their night together, for the gift he'd given her, and whispered in his ear that one day that gift would prove its worth. Strangest of all though was how she would take his hand and stroke her stomach with it. Daario thought at first that she'd bring it between her legs, but it was only across her belly that she allowed his fingers to travel as she smiled brightly at him.
By the time they reached Yin, he'd forgotten about her though. His thoughts had turned to what it was he must do and he'd found some doubts within those thoughts. More so when they reached Bu Gai's palace and he saw how many guards the man had around him. Not that he wasn't already aware of this from their last visit here, but then it had been just to meet the man, now his task was to kill him. He couldn't help but wonder how he was to do so and make it from the palace alive and so he shared his doubts with the only one he could, Pyat Pree.
"We walk the path our God has set out for us, if today is the day we die then we do so in his service. Though today is not that day, not for me and certainly not for you, Daario Naharis." Pyat Pree said and again Daario wondered about the warlock's connection to their god.
They were greeted warmly, feted as friends of the emperor himself and their welcome only became even more effusive when he presented the two baskets to Bu Gai.
"I bring you the heads of your enemies, God Emperor," he said taking a knee, though he felt no reverence for the man in front of him.
"I knew you'd succeed and you have my thanks, Daario Naharis. You shall be rewarded greatly." Bu Gai said as his guards held up the heads that to all eyes would seem to be Pol Qo and Chai Yen.
Pyat Pree had somewhat explained the glamour and mummery that was being performed, not that Daario really cared to listen. All he cared about was whether or not it would hold and the warlock had assured him that it would. Looking at the two heads now, even he would fall for it and he'd seen both men still breathing when he left them in Carcosa.
They were given even more luxurious rooms and he was offered his pick of the servants, concubines, and pleasure slaves. Daario turned them all down and found himself thinking of green eyes and the golden hair of a girl he'd not truly met yet. Images of taking something that Daemon Targaryen loved from him filled his mind even as he feasted with Bu Gai that night. It was Pyat Pree who came to him and bid him do what he had come here to do. Daario then found his path to the emperor's rooms to be an easy and guard-free one.
He entered the room to find the man asleep and alone, the two heads he'd gifted him were both resting on golden spikes at the end of his bed and it was a grisly sight. Moving to the bed, he unsheathed his Arakh and called out Bu Gai's name, waking the man who sat upright in his bed. With a swing of his Arakh, he took his head from his shoulders and felt the blade in his hand begin to shake and tremble.
"You are my champion, Daario Naharis and you wield my blade." the voice called out in his head and he looked on in awe as the Arakh's blade turned blue and the blood that should have poured from the headless body in front of him, froze solid instead.
King's Landing 300 AC.
Cersei.
She'd not known what to do. All through the ceremony and the days leading up to it, she'd not known what to do. What she did know was that she was powerless to stop it. It was out of her hands to do so. So while Jaime, Tyrion, Tommen, and her father had looked on proudly as Myrcella was named Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, she'd looked on with panic and despair. So much so that Jaime had come to her that night at the feast to ask her what ailed her so.
" I… We'll talk later," she said worrying him even more.
" Cersei?"
Later Jaime, please. Let us enjoy the night." she said while trying to smile.
Though it was clear that he worried for her still, he thankfully did as she'd asked him. They'd eaten, though she'd barely done so, danced, though her heart wasn't in it, and to her relief, not really talked much. Each time she looked at Myrcella's smiling face or caught Daemon whisper in her ear, she felt her breath hitch and her heart begin to race. When she danced with her Goodson, she barely heard the words he spoke to her and so perhaps it was that which had brought the Red Priestess to her. Daemon's worries for his goodmother had led to it, or so she believed and she cursed herself for not hiding them better.
"My lady, there is much on your mind and you bear the weight of the world on your shoulders," Melisandre said and Cersei shook her head.
"I'm well, my lady. Just tired."
"My God has given me gifts, Lady Cersei. Gifts he's given his chosen even more so than me. Yet neither my prince nor myself would need them to see that something ails you."
"I said I'm well, Lady Melisandre," she said a little loudly.
"Should you have need of my counsel, then all you need do is ask it of me. I serve my prince and my god, Lady Cersei, perhaps the one or the other can soothe your worries."
She wished it could be so. More than anything she wished it could be so and yet she knew it could not. Daemon was the one who'd be most affected by the truths she'd kept hidden for so long. No, that wasn't quite true, Myrcella would be affected more, she and Tommen. He was who she wished to keep those truths from though and so to speak to one of his closest companions about that truth was not truly an option.
Feigning tiredness, she said her goodnights to Tommen, Myrcella and Daemon and rode back to their manse in a carriage. All through the small journey, she did all she could to come up with some way out of her predicament. Was it just one person who knew the truth, then she'd have had them killed long ago, but Creylen had been too clever for that. She had thought of having the man beaten and tortured until he gave up the names of all those he'd shared it with, only to dismiss the idea as unworkable. Not only was there a risk that he'd not, but even should he do so, then how was he to bring about the ends of men at the Citadel?
She made her way to her room and almost threw herself on the bed, her sobs ringing out and so loud were they that she needed to muffle them with a pillow. Try as she might she couldn't understand why he'd chosen now of all times to threaten her with the reveal. He'd held it for almost eight and ten years, allowed for two more children to be born from her union with Jaime, and had held his tongue through it all. Creylen hadn't even asked her for anything. Not coin or favor, nothing, he'd just let her know that he knew and left it at that.
Why now?
What was he seeking?
Was this about Daemon?
About Myrcella?
Or did he serve someone else who wished for the crown?
When it was that she drifted off to sleep, she knew not. Jaime's arrival though woke her when he came to check up on her and though she wished not to burden him as she had been, she knew she'd no other choice but to do so.
"Who?" he asked after she had told him it all.
"Creylen and some Maesters at the Citadel."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked annoyed.
"I'd thought it forgotten, no mention was made of it for years, Jaime."
"What exactly were you told to do?"
"To not allow Myrcella to be crowned," she said worriedly.
"We need to tell her, she has to know the truth," Jaime said and she felt her panic rise.
"No….we can't…..we…."
"We must," he said softly and she welcomed his arms around her and the soft words he spoke in her ear.
He arranged for her to be given something to help her sleep. Jaime told her that she needed to rest and not spend a night thinking about this constantly and despite herself, she agreed with him. When she woke the next morning, for the briefest moment she completely forgot about the letter and what it meant. Only for the thoughts of it and what she had to do, to come to her in a rush all at once. She rose from the bed, dressed, and made her way to break her fast.
Her father, brother, son, and Jaime were all already there when she arrived and each of them looked at her with different levels of concern. Perhaps that was why she ate as hungrily as she did, or mayhap it was because she was just that hungry. Whatever the reason, it alleviated their worries for her and she allowed their conversations to be all she thought about as she broke her fast. Within the week her father would be returning to Casterly Rock and Jaime and Tommen would be joining him within the moon. Her son and brother were given leave to stay in King's Landing longer because of the courtship of Margaery Tyrell and to help Myrcella settle into her new role. Tyrion too would be staying, her brother would be joining the Small Council in a role that was yet to be determined. Something that she knew he and her father were both proud about.
After they'd eaten, each went about their daily business. Her father and Tyrion off to do who knew what, Tommen and Jaime to the sparring yard and then to the Red Keep, and she to speak to her daughter and tell a truth she'd hoped she'd never find out. Jaime at least offered to go with her and though she wished he could, she knew this was something she had to do alone. It was something she couldn't put off any longer either It would be hard enough for Myrcella to hear it from her, was she to hear it from someone else, then who knows how she'd take it. Not that she expected her to take it well regardless.
"Her grace will see you in a moment, Lady Cersei," Rosamund said before hurrying back into the Queen's solar.
She wasn't kept waiting for long, though she wished she had been. Entering the solar it was to find Myrcella at her desk, with her ladies in waiting around her, her daughter smiling beamingly at her as she bid them leave and her to take a seat.
"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, mother, it seems there is much work already for me to do," Myrcella said apologetically.
"The wait was a short one, your grace. His grace?"
"Is no doubt annoyed at his own work and wishing he was elsewhere." Myrcella said with a giggle "He did suggest we both sneak out this morn and fly away on Lyanax, though I believe he was japing."
"Perhaps not," she said to a fuller laugh from her daughter.
"What brings you here, mother? Is there something wrong? You looked not yourself last night."
"I… I'm feeling better. I…." she could barely get the words out and Myrcella rose to her feet and moved quickly to her side.
"Mother, should I call the Grandmaester?" Myrcella asked worriedly and Cersei shook her head vigorously.
"I… I….there is something I need to tell you, Cella, about your father," she said, tears falling from her eyes as she readied to speak on who that really was and she prayed that she'd not be as hated by her daughter as she feared she may be.
King's Landing 300 AC.
Thoros.
If someone had told him that he'd be sitting as a member of the Small Council of Westeros then he'd have laughed in their face. Even after he'd met Daemon and found out his true name, he'd never seen this as his path. When that conniving fuck Benerro had seen fit to send him from his prince's side and he'd found himself in King's Landing, he'd not even come close to the royal family let alone the court itself.
Looking to his prince, the new king of the seven kingdoms, Thoros felt that only Daemon would understand the feelings that were going through his mind as the others took their seats. For his prince too had never sought this for himself. Something he'd told him many years earlier not long after he'd spoken on his family and his real reasons for leaving them behind.
" Mayhap you should have sought the crown yourself, my prince," Thoros said as they sat by the fire, Daemon laughing without mirth.
" They wished me dead because they feared so, even though I did not wish for it. Had it actually been something I wanted, then they'd have been right in that fear."
" So you truly had no desire to be king?" he asked curiously.
" I've seen what it did to the man who sat the throne, Thoros. The last thing I ever wished for was for that to be my fate. What I sought was just as unobtainable to me as a crown ever was."
" And that was?"
" A family," Daemon said sadly.
Over their time together, his prince had made his own family. One that Thoros had always felt more than lucky to be a part of. He, Melisandre, Davos and his sons, Asher Forrester and Shiera, Torgho Nudho and the Unsullied, even men of the Fiery Hand had all become members of Daemon's extended family. As had Lyanax too. Yet at times he knew that his prince had looked west to those left behind and to one in particular. Watching as she smiled at him and took her seat, Thoros felt happier that coming west had brought his prince more family, far more than he was about him gaining a crown.
"While some of you aren't members of the Small Council as of yet, or some are soon to leave us. I'd like to speak to each of you and lay out my vision for the future of the realm." Daemon said authoritatively.
Thoros looked around the large table and at those who sat the seats. Other than the queen who though Daemon had wished here, had begged off for the day, these were the people who'd see Daemon's vision through. His grandmother and her faithful knight along with his sister, uncle, and aunt. Lord Mace Tyrell and Lord Stannis Baratheon. Davos, Melisandre, and Thoros himself along with Tyrion and Tywin Lannister. Grandmaester Marwyn sat with quill in hand and much parchment on the table and Oberyn Martell looked on trying his best to cover up his disdain and hatred of Daemon, and not quite doing so. Lucerys Velaryon seemed like Mace Tyrell, surprised to have kept his position, yet Daemon had no wish to replace either man. While his two northern uncles were there more as a courtesy than anything else.
"With what we did and what we found in the land Beyond the Wall, we've brought peace between the Free Folk and the Seven Kingdoms and the North in particular. The Free Folk sit on great wealth and the lands themselves have been freed from the hold that winter had upon them, making them far more suitable to grow crops and far more temperate in their weather." Daemon said looking to the Lannisters and his northern uncles.
"You truly believe they'll hold to their words of peace, your grace?" his uncle Ned asked and Daemon turned to look at him bidding him answer the question.
"The Free Folk know not how to lie, Lord Stark. They hold to their honor as truly as you do and during our time there we found out much about them, those who lead the clans, and their reasons for all they've done. I'll not say that they were not at fault for as much as the Night's Watch were or blame one side more than the other for the animus between them. Only that their reasons for such hostile behavior no longer hold true." he said and he tried not to chuckle as Daemon rolled his eyes.
"What my Master of Whisperers is using far too many words to say, uncle. Is that they fought out of need, that need is lessened if not completely removed now. To that end, I'd suggest that an expedition is sent to Hardhome to meet with Mance Rayder the King Beyond the Wall. I'd seek men from the Reach who know of food, men of the North who know how to build shelters in this cold weather, men from the West who know of mining and the value of gems, along with men I'll send to treat with Mance on my behalf." Daemon said to a nod from Tywin, Mace, and finally from his uncle Ned and uncle Benjen.
"You truly believe their wealth to be so substantial, your grace?" Tywin Lannister asked.
"On a par with your own, Lord Lannister. With both the West and the Reach if managed right and they are in need of much. If we deal with them honestly and truly, then the North, Reach, West, and the Crown itself can only benefit greatly. Not to mention that it gives even more incentive for peace to exist between those on either side of the Wall."
"What of Dorne, your grace?" Oberyn asked snidely "Where does Dorne benefit from this arrangement?"
"It does not. Not at first for the Free Folk have no need of the wares that Dorne sells, Prince Oberyn. In time though it benefits as the realm benefits. As the tax take increases because of the increased trade, then in time those who do not trade directly with the Free Folk will see a reduction in their own taxes. I seek not to elevate one kingdom above all others, but for the rising tide to raise all." Daemon said and Thoros looked to see the proud look that his grandmother and uncles gave him.
They talked then of the expansion of the Small Council, of how Princess Daenerys would work with Stannis, and how Prince Viserys would be taking up a position in the Gold Cloaks. Tywin handed over his pin as Hand of the King to Princess Rhaenys, though a truer passing of that particular torch would take place in the Throne Room before Tywin left for the West. Daemon's goodfather would be thanked for serving when he was needed most and then Princess Rhaenys would be named as the first woman Hand of the King, both worthy of the honor to Thoros' mind.
Tyrion's role had still to be defined and Thoros wondered if that was because Daemon wished him to replace Prince Oberyn. His prince had told him the man would die and die painfully and Thoros knew better than to question him over it. After speaking on the North and then the Reach, West, and Dorne, talk turned to the Iron Islands, Stormlands, and Crownlands, before finally getting to the Riverlands and the Vale.
"I intend to name Lord Yohn Royce as Warden of the East and Lord of the Eyrie. Though I'd welcome any thoughts or other suggestions?" Daemon said and Thoros looked to see that there were no complaints in this regard, something that couldn't be said when he brought up the Riverlands.
"Is there a member of your family you don't seek rewarded, your grace?" Prince Oberyn sneered after Daemon had named his cousin Brand the new Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident.
"You have someone better in mind, Prince Oberyn? Someone more suited or more worthy?" Daemon asked.
"The North, The Riverlands, the Lands Beyond the Wall, all are helping House Stark to rise high and all at the expense of mine own House. Do you forget that it was Dorne who rode to House Targaryen's aid while House Stark sought to bring about its end." Oberyn said angrily.
"I forget nothing, Prince Oberyn. Has Dorne not been well rewarded in the years since? Have those who fought against the crown not suffered while Dorne prospered? I care not for the Rebellion, it cost me more than almost any in this room, what did it cost you, Prince Oberyn? What price did Dorne pay? I seek to bring the Seven Kingdoms together, to seek all prosper and not just one. Can you say the same?"
"You dare…"
"I dare because it falls to me to do so. Feel slighted on Dorne's behalf, disagree with my choices if you wish but speak those disagreements here and nowhere else lest you find that you and Dorne have earned my disfavor."
"I should care of such," Oberyn said and Daemon rose to his feet.
"You'd be a fool not to, Prince Oberyn," Daemon said his words like ice and his expression like fire itself
Oberyn seemed on the verge of saying something that he'd not be able to take back, only to instead turn and storm from the room. Daemon was standing and watching him all the way and Thoros well recognized that look. When he sat back down, his grandmother whispered in his ear and Daemon nodded, before he then began to speak once again.
"Prince Oberyn and I do not see eye to eye on much and many things. He bristles over the fact that I've been named king and because of some perceived shame he feels my birth has brought his house. Not even Queen Elia's words have been enough to dissuade him of this opinion. I'll not bow down to Dorne or any of the kingdoms I rule over. I'll treat them all with the respect they deserve and do my best to listen to their concerns and see them all prosper. Any that feel otherwise are free to call me out and speak their mind, but only here and once I decide the path, it's up to you to walk it with me." Daemon said firmly looking at each face in the room.
None seemed unwilling to walk that path with his prince and when the meeting was brought to an end, he, Daemon's grandmother, and her knight, along with his sister, were bid to stay behind while the others left. He could see the restraint that Daemon was forcing onto himself, the way his hands were held tightly to his side and he almost chuckled when once again it was whispered words from his grandmother that seemed to relax him the most.
"I need you both to watch Oberyn carefully." Daemon said looking to him and to Ser Bonifer "I fear that this was the best of it between him and me and though I wish it not, the path to conflict between Dorne and the Crown is one we took far too many steps forward on today."
Thoros believed his prince was speaking true and he wondered what form that conflict would take. Would it be a dragon flying over Dorne or would it be a prince's blade against a king's? Either way, it mattered not, for he knew who would emerge victoriously and if Dorne and its prince knew what was best for them, then they'd seek peace rather than war.
King's Landing 300 AC.
Myrcella.
She found she enjoyed being queen far more than she had expected to. Even her husband's mummery about them flying away on a dragon and leaving all the work and responsibility behind was more a jape than a true complaint. While she'd have preferred for them not to have to do so much work, she was enthused by it too. So much so that rather than attend the Small Council meeting that Daemon was holding, she instead spent her morning in her solar and got straight to her own plans.
With her ladies, she spent most of the early morning going over areas where she could actually help out and where she'd not hinder nor step on anyone's toes. Princess Daenerys was to work with Lord Stannis and expand upon her own charitable works with the Smallfolk and Rhaenys would be taking over from her grandfather and so in some ways, it would be she who was running the realm. While Daemon's grandmother would, while having no assigned role, oversee so much of the direction of his plans. So it left her in a bit of a quandary about what and where she would be most effective.
Myrcella was still pondering over this when her mother had arrived to speak to her. She'd discarded some ideas, circled some others that were only truly half ones and so she'd been somewhat glad of the distraction, truth be told. Right up to when her mother had told her what she'd come here for and had shattered her view on her, her father, her life up to then, and in turn had made her worries for the future all about the truth she'd been told and not those she'd woken that morning with. Even now more than an hour after her mother had left, and as she thought back over all she'd learned, she still shook a little.
" What?" she asked angrily, unable to believe the words her mother had just spoken.
" Your father is not who you thought he was, Myrcella. I….Jaime and I…"
" You can't. He can't….I'm….I'm not…."
" We love each other. We always have, my husband was aware of it somewhat, he had his own desires and they didn't involve me and so we believed it worked out. He loved you as if you were his and I thought no one would ever need to find out the truth, so….."
" GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!" she shouted loudly, Ser Oswell Whent running into the room at the sound of her raised voice.
" Cella…"
" GET OUT!" she shouted once again.
" I'm sorry… I'm so sorry." her mother said as Ser Oswell helped her from the room.
She had told the knight that she was well, bid him leave her alone and that she was not to be disturbed, and then had cried her eyes out for only the gods knew how long. Her mind had gone back to her childhood, to how her mother and her uncle….her father, had always seemed so close. Myrcella had searched through her memories for the times she'd shared with the man she'd believed to be her father. Each of them only proved that while he may not have been so in blood, he was in every other way.
At what point she realized what her mother had said to her about someone else knowing and threatening to reveal the truth, she knew not. Only that she had to find out who that was and stop it somehow. Knowing full well that she couldn't face seeing her mother again that day, and for mayhap many more days to come, she sat down to think about what it was she could do to find out the information she needed. Sighing loudly when she found that there was only one way to do so. Myrcella called out for Ser Oswell and asked him to send Rosamund to her and then once her cousin arrived, she sent her to fetch her uncle… her father.
Time seemed to stretch on and on. It passed slowly and by the time her father arrived, she was worried that Daemon's meeting would be over and done with. She feared that were he to arrive before she spoke to her father, then she'd not be able to face him. Not that she was sure that after she'd found out all she needed to know that she'd be able to face him anyway. Yet she needed to know who was the threat to her, who was going to reveal a secret that would ruin her life, and what was being done, if anything, to stop that from happening.
"Ser Jaime, your grace." Ser Oswell said as her father was led into the room.
She could see his wariness, how he now looked at her far differently than he had ever done before. While she had always been closer to Tyrion, she'd not been distant with her father when she thought him an uncle only. He'd always been welcoming and willing to offer her comfort and advice, and she had loved him for how he was with Tommen most of all.
Tommen.
Did he know?
Was he right now doing as she was?
Was he as hurt as she felt?
Did he fear as much as she did?
"My brother, where is my brother?" she asked her father.
"He's sparring with Ser Loras."
"Does he know the truth?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper and when her father shook his head she breathed in relief. Though there was some anger there too, some annoyance that her life had been turned on its head while his had not.
It quickly went away as she found herself happier for him than angered over herself. Better that she suffered the worries and fears than he did and if she could keep them from him, then better still.
"Who knows?" she asked.
"Cella…"
"Who knows?" she asked more firmly.
"Your mother believes it's the Maesters. Creylen for certain, but she believes he told others in the Citadel. Why they did nothing or decided now that they should threaten to reveal the truth, we know not."
"Because I'm the queen," she said annoyed that he didn't seem to understand the damage this would do, not just to her or their house, but to Daemon too.
"The Targaryens…"
"We are not dragons uncle, we're lions. We may not care for the opinions of sheep but we fear those opinions all the same." she said channeling her grandfather somewhat "How can we stop it?" she asked a moment later and her father shook his head.
She knew he wished to speak to her, to tell her his side of things, and to try and explain and offer her some comfort in doing so. Now though was not the time for such and nothing he could say, other than he'd found a way for the truth to remain hidden, would bring her any comfort at all. When he spoke of her mother, she felt his pain for what she was going through and she wished she had it in her to speak words that he could take back to her, yet once again she had none for him. Instead, she bid him leave and when he did, she moved to the window.
At one point she was sorely tempted to climb out to the ledge and throw herself from it. To remove herself from the table so to speak. Make it so that the truth couldn't be used against her family or against her husband. But she was craven, cowardly, and she couldn't bring herself to take her own life. Or mayhap she was selfish and wished for as much more time with her husband as she could or would be allowed before the truth was outed. Whatever the truth of it, she turned and moved back into the room and then spent the next few hours, alone and deep in thought.
At dinner that night, she was quiet and sullen. Daemon tried his best to get her to smile and while she performed a mummery of one, she was certain that he didn't believe it for a moment. After everyone had left and they were alone, she felt a shiver go down her spine at how he looked at her. She felt herself on the verge of tears at the concern she saw in his eyes and the way he took her by the hand and led her to the small couch in their chambers. When he took her in his arms, held her tight, and began to brush his fingers through her hair, the tears came, and then she sobbed against his chest. His words were spoken so softly that over the sound of her cries, she didn't hear them at first and when she did, she wasn't sure how to respond.
"Tell me what ails you, my love. Speak to me and let me soothe your hurt. No matter what it is, Cella, no matter how worried you are about it, speak it to me and let me be your champion in this matter as I wish to be in all." Daemon said and she looked to him and nodded, fearful and yet resolved as she told him what her mother had spoken to her about.
King's Landing 300 AC.
Oberyn Martell.
It grated on him, seeing him wear the crown and sit on the throne. Just being in his presence and having to defer to him. Not being able to let loose his tongue and say the things about him that he truly wished to. During the farce of a Small Council meeting, he'd wished for nothing more than to take his dagger and plunge it deep into the bastard's heart. Instead, he'd been forced to sit and listen as Dorne was shamed, left out of things, and marginalized by a bastard who lorded over them with glee.
Looking around the room, he'd found no allies. Dorne had few friends and fewer like-minded people to call upon. He'd listened as the West, Reach and the North had been rewarded while Dorne had been almost set aside. They'd not been invited to share the unexpected bounty that the lands beyond the Wall would bring to the other kingdoms. Though they could not be bought off as easily as those other kingdoms could anyway.
Coin and prestige, position and power, they not accept it if it was offered by a bastard king and so they'd need to take it for themselves. He'd decided to make one final attempt to see if they had any allies within his family. So after the meeting had come to an end, or to be more precise, after he'd left said meeting, he made his way to his sister's rooms. He found her both playing with her new granddaughter, whose very existence had taken him by surprise, and packing up her things as she readied for the move to Summerhall. That she wasn't best pleased to see him was clear immediately and yet she welcomed him into the room and called for one of the servants to take her granddaughter, his great-niece, to spend some time with Aegon.
"Is the meeting over with?" Elia asked and Oberyn shook his head as he took his seat "What did you do, Oberyn?"
"I did nothing. I left lest I could hold my tongue no more," he said and Elia sighed.
"And what would have loosened your tongue?"
"The shaming of our House, of our people and lands." he spat.
"Which took what form?"
He told her of the sending of men to treat with the King Beyond the Wall, of the trade deals that the bastard had suggested, and how Dorne was not part of them. All through his words, Elia looked at him and he liked not her expression. She waited until he was finished and then to his dismay, she spoke the very same words that the bastard did. Elia showed she not only agreed with them but that she had been aware that they were to be spoken too.
"In time Dorne will benefit as much as any. As will the Vale, Riverlands, and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Daemon seeks not to raise one House or one Kingdom above another, but for all to rise." Elia said and her tone showed that she believed her words to be true.
"You actually believe that horseshit? Dorne will gain nothing with this king on the throne. He wishes to pay us back for imagined slights." he said to a snort from his sister.
"Imagined were they? Do you forget to who it is you speak, brother mine?"
"We did no harm to him," he said and she snorted again.
"Not for lack of trying and while physically you and my Doran may not have, there are others ways to harm someone, as well you know."
"So I'm just to accept these slights? Dorne is to accept them?" he said ignoring her words.
"By the Seven, what slights? What slights has Dorne suffered?" Elia snapped "Other than not getting the queen they wished and thereby plunging the realm into chaos, what has Dorne or Oberyn Martell been shamed by."
"HE KILLED MY DAUGHTER!" he shouted loudly, bringing Ser Barristan into the room, only for Elia to wave the knight away.
Elia walked from where she had been sitting, her eyes ablaze and he knew that expression all too well. When they were children and he'd angered her, he'd see that very same fire in her eyes and as then, he now he shrunk back a little.
"Daemon played no part in my niece's death. Speak to Marwyn, to my other nieces. How could he have done so? How could he have gotten close to her since you all hate him so? Losing Tyene was a tragedy and you have not yet grieved her for true, so I'll let your words pass for now. Do not speak them again, Oberyn, for I can guarantee you that Daemon would not, nor would Rhaella."
He looked at her incredulously, knowing now that she'd truly abandoned their house and he turned from her to walk to the door. Stopping before he left the room, he turned back and glared at his sister.
"I'll not take this, Dorne will not take this. You have picked your side Elia, what comes next is not because of me."
"Be careful what you seek, Oberyn. This path you wish to travel leads to only one destination and I'll mourn you not if you continue upon it."
"What other choice do I have?" he asked as he left the room.
Later that day he asked for and was denied a meeting with his niece. Rhaenys was too busy to see him and it took two days for him to finally be granted an audience with the future Hand of the King. In the end, he may as well not have been given one, as Rhaenys was even more firm in her words and harsher than her mother had been.
It left him with no choice, so he arranged the ship for the day the oaths were to be sworn and as they were being done, he, his daughters, Ellaria, and Arianne set sail for Dorne. From there it would be to Volantis he'd travel, to meet with Malaquo and to seek out the Golden Company. War was inevitable and when all was said and done, House Martell would be the only ones left standing and Oberyn would spit on a bastard's corpse.
King's Landing 300 AC.
Ned Stark.
He'd enjoyed watching Daemon's coronation. Both he and Benjen had looked on with pride to see Lyanna's son be named king. A king that the North would gladly follow and one that had already shown the strength of his convictions. While both he and his brother would have knelt gladly to her boy regardless of his actions in helping the North, he'd be a liar if he said that those actions didn't bend their knees even more easily.
Once it was done and Daemon was crowned, Ned had wished to head back North as soon as he could. While with his nephew sitting on the throne this was no longer a city that he had no wish to be in, it was still not a place he wished to linger. Truth be told he missed the North every day he was away from it. The smell of the fresh air and the cold of the winds that blew there were far more to his liking than the smell of this city and the warmth of its summer breezes. Even the food was something he took fault with and what passed for ale in King's Landing was very much something undeserving of the name.
Yet there was to be a tourney to honor the new king and queen. Oaths to be sworn to and he'd not deny his wife and children their own eagerness to see all that King's Landing had to offer. Bran and Rickon, Arya too when she could sneak away from her mother, all would find themselves in or near the sparring yards. His sons would look at the knights and their men at arms with awe while Arya would bemoan the lack of women being allowed to fight. Partly that was down to his nephew who'd told the tale of the Free Folk women fighting alongside the men and being just as fierce as they were, while mostly it was his daughter's own nature.
Sansa had been welcomed into the new queen's circle and never had he seen his daughter so happy. To take part in teas and walks with the queen and her ladies and to be seen as their equal, it was not only his daughter who was pleased by such, as Cat was as proud and as happy as Sansa herself was. He and Benjen had spoken to the Lannisters and to the Tyrells. Along with Wyman and others, they'd talked of trade and of closer links and while it was not who he was by nature, he'd found the discussions more tolerable than he'd feared. True there were far too many flowery words for his liking, but the changes that Daemon had been the catalyst for, had allowed them to be dealt with fairly and not treated with derision or scorn.
Still, he and Benjen had been surprised to be asked to attend a Small Council meeting and then even more so by what was said while they were there. Never would he have imagined that the Free Folk would be welcomed as a part, even if apart, of the Realm. Nor would he have believed that any peace could hold between them and the North, let alone the South. Yet somehow Daemon had managed it and was that not surprise enough, he had agreed to a trade deal with them too. He'd listened and said nothing as Daemon explained it all, he had then held his tongue at the blatant disrespect that Prince Oberyn showed his nephew. Instead waiting until the meeting was over and then seek another meeting with his nephew in private. Only to find that Daemon had wished for him to bring others with him when they next met.
" I know you have questions regarding the Free Folk, uncle. I wish I could just speak to you on them, but I find myself pressed for time far more than I would like. So instead, how about we kill two birds with one stone so to speak."
" Your grace?"
" I need to meet with you, my aunt, and Ser Brynden in regards to the Riverlands. What say we make that meeting about this as well? Forgo the need for a separate meeting and allow for me to save some time in the process."
" Aye, that sounds like a much better idea, your grace."
" After lunch, in my solar then uncle?"
" After lunch in your solar, your grace."
Now as he walked through the Red Keep, he did so with some nervousness. Something which was not shared by his wife and Gooduncle. Never before had he seen Ser Brynden so happy as he was now and Cat too seemed to share his mood. Given what he believed was about to be done, he'd not begrudge either of them their joy. To see her family raised back to what they once were had been something his wife had longed for, he knew. That it was to be done under their son's leadership, only making her even happier about the situation. While for The Blackfish it was the culmination of many years of work.
"We have a meeting with his grace," he said to Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell who stood at the door, the Sword of the Morning himself knocking and then opening it when Daemon bid him too.
Entering the room it was to find, Daemon, his grandmother, and sister all waiting for them, none of them sitting at the large desk he was glad to see. Instead, it was on the chairs and couch in the room and when the greeting were done with they took their seats and both he and Ser Brynden accepted the ale that was offered.
"Uncle, aunt, Ser Brynden. I wished my grandmother here because my plans in the Riverlands are ones that she herself is the architect of." Daemon said, his pride in his grandmother clear in both word and expression "Were it not for her, then I doubt I'd have come forward with this idea myself, but I find no fault in it, nor do I have any doubts that this is the right thing to do. Rhaenys, if you would."
"Lord Stark, Lady Catelyn, Ser Brynden. I have here the papers which name Lord Brandon Stark as Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident, with Ser Brynden Tully to serve as his regent until he comes of age. Both Lord Brandon and Ser Brynden will be required to swear oaths of fealty to their graces and to our House in perpetuity." Rhaenys said and Ned had to admit the young woman had an air of authority about her that would serve her well in her role as Hand of the king.
"I thank you, Lady Hand. You too, your grace. And you most of all, your grace." "Ser Brynden said to Rhaenys, Daemon, and then Rhaella.
"As do I, Lady Hand, you too, your grace." his wife said first to Rhaenys, Daemon, and then to Rhaella,
He added his own thanks and when word was spoken of Cat's brother's role, he was pleased to find that they'd considered one for him too. While he was losing his birthright in Riverrun, Daemon gave Ser Brynden or himself leave to offer him lands of a similar size to the ones he had been lord over since Hoster's death. Both Cat and Brynden were more than grateful to find that he'd keep his title as lord, just not of Riverrun.
"Should he wish to, he can remain at Riverrun and name himself Lord Tully until his new lands are ready for him, yet from the moment that my cousin kneels and swears his oath, it'll be he and he alone who is Lord of Riverrun," Daemon said and Ned nodded as did both Cat and Brynden.
Talk then turned to what was expected of the new Lord Paramount of the Trident and Ned found himself soon bored by it. Not that more was being asked of Bran or that the duties weren't important, just that he knew them as much as anyone did and he'd be certain to explain them to Bran before his son set out for the Riverlands. His disinterest was soon picked up on by Daemon and his nephew turned and whispered something in his grandmother's ear before rising.
"Uncle, mayhap we could speak more on the events beyond the Wall," Daemon asked.
"Aye, your grace, I'd like that."
It was to the balcony that he and Daemon walked to, the doors to it being closed behind them and leaving them oblivious to what else was being discussed in the room they'd just left. He caught his nephew looking to another balcony some distance away and wondered if those were the Queen's Chambers, Daemon letting him know they were a moment later.
"While my wife and I share a bed-chamber, our solars are separate. I find myself keener to be in hers than mine own for some reason." Daemon said with a fond smile on his face.
"A good sign, your grace," he said making his nephew chuckle.
"I suppose it is." Daemon said as he turned to face him "The Free Folk, uncle, they're not as you or the North fear them to be. You know my original plan was to settle them on the southern side of the Wall, to give them the lands of the Brandon's and the New Gift."
"Aye, I'm relieved that's not to be their fate, your grace. While I and the Lords of the North would not have challenged your decision, it would not have been one we'd have welcomed," he said honestly.
"I know, uncle. I had feared that what came for them would leave me with no choice and in this, I was right and wrong. In the end, I wasn't given the option of where I had to face the threat to them and to the realm as a whole, it was they who chose the battleground, and thanks to my god's favor, it was a battle that we won."
"We, your grace?"
"The Free Folk fought by my side, uncle. They are brave and true and we find our true friends on the battlefield do we not?"
"Aye, that we do," he said with a soft smile.
"The location of the battle proved fortuitous in other matters too uncle. In seeking where best to place those who couldn't fight, we found far more than just shelter. The words I spoke at the meeting don't do it justice, uncle, not truly. Mine own people will ensure the Free Folk aren't cheated, but I meant what I said, the opportunities that their newfound fortune provides are not just for them alone. The North will benefit too." Daemon said and Ned looked at him, sure of his words, but not entirely sure of how that would come to pass.
"How?" he asked.
They spoke for the next hour or so, Daemon explaining to him how best to ensure the North took full advantage of this new opportunity. He was stunned that Daemon seemed to have such a grasp on trade, though he felt that because he'd seen the Free Folk and their conditions up close, it gave him insight. By the time they'd finished, Cat and Brynden along with Daemon's sister and grandmother had left and the room was empty when they walked back into it.
"Lord Reed, uncle, Lord Reed, and one of Lord Wyman's sons. Make sure both are in the party you send to Hardhome."
Aye, your grace, I will."
"You'll stay for the tourney? "Daemon asked and he nodded "Good, I'd like to spend some time with my cousins and hopefully we can enjoy a meal together with my wife?"
"I'd like that too, your grace."
Walking to the door after saying his goodbyes, he felt the need to ask and so he stopped and turned around, Daemon had sat down at his desk and was moving papers over it as he did so.
"Uncle?"
"Prince Oberyn, your grace, is there…."
"The man is a fool uncle and in time he'll do something even more foolish than he did at the meeting. I'm well aware of him, uncle, well aware, and he and I will have a reckoning soon enough."
"Should you need me.."
"I know uncle, I'm most grateful for it."
With that, he walked from the room and though he still worried somewhat about Prince Oberyn and by extension Dorne, soon enough it was his son and the North he was thinking of once again.
Kings Landing 300 AC.
Daemon.
His first days as the king had been exactly what he feared they'd be. The sheer amount of work that he had to get through had shown him that when the call came, and come it would, he'd be leaving so much to other people to see done. Rhaenys and his grandmother had both been invaluable to him and Daemon had kept them in the loop on every single choice he made. He wished for them to know his mind when it came to the realm and for them to be able to both, do what he would, and what was needed at the same time.
With his tasks to the realm complete for another day, he set his mind to the tasks that were more personal to him. So after leaving the meeting with his uncle and looking longingly at the door that led to his wife's solar, it was to his father and Elia that he went. Along the way, he spoke to Arthur about Oberyn's behavior and told him that he'd tasked both Bonifer and Thoros to keep a close eye on him. He didn't fear a direct attack, even if he may have wished for one, but more some action that would force him to respond and give Dorne an excuse for their own misbehavior. While new to the game of thrones, he had been well versed in the workings of court ever since he was but a boy. His grandmother had made sure of it and later on, with R'hllor's guidance, he'd understood it even better.
Oberyn wanted to be slighted, to be seen to be slighted and he'd push and prod to see it so. What he'd do once he felt he'd been slighted enough was, for now, a mystery to Daemon. It would not be one for long, he thought as they reached his father's rooms. With a nod to the guards, he entered the room surprised to find only Elia and his father inside. Looking around for his brother and niece, Elia noticed his search and smiled at him as she told him that both Egg and his niece had gone for pie.
"She does have a sweet tooth, does she not," he said fondly.
"All went well, your grace?" his father asked and it felt strange to Daemon to be addressed so by the man he'd always thought of as a king first and father last of all.
"As well as can be expected. Oberyn wishes to play some games and I've spoken to my aunt and uncle and Ser Brynden regarding Riverrun and my cousin's new role as its Lord and Lord Paramount."
"House Darry?"
"I'll seek to bring Lord Raymun closer to court, give him a role in an expanded Small Council. Rhaenys is working on which role suits him best," he said and his father offered him a small smile as a way of showing that he agreed with his actions.
"What brings you here, your grace. Not that I'm not always pleased to see you." Elia asked.
"I've spoken to Torgho Nudho and to Melisandre in regards to your protection at Summerhall, I wish to confirm it with you and ask once again that you don't leave until they arrive," he said sitting when bid too.
"What was your decision?"
"A thousand Unsullied and fifty men of the Fiery Hand, along with three hundred cavalry and a further two hundred men at arms," he said and Elia looked at him shocked.
"So many?" she asked and Daemon rose to his feet to bid Arthur join them.
"Arthur my plans for the guard at Summerhall, can you speak your mind on them."
"Never before have we faced this, your grace. Other than Dragonstone which offers its own protection, we've never had the royal family split in such a way. For Summerhall to be an actual royal residence and not simply a keep that is visited occasionally, I'd have sought even more than the numbers you suggested, your grace. However, they are the least I'd seek to guard your family." Arthur said as his father looked at his truest friend.
"You truly believe it's needed, Arthur?" his father asked.
"I do, your grace," Arthur replied, not quite ready to name his father as anything but a king in name if not title anymore.
With a nod to the knight, Arthur walked from the room and once he did, Daemon began to speak again. He shared other reasons for why he'd seek them so protected, brought up what had happened to Egg, and though he held no fear of it happening again, he would do all he could to ensure that it could not. Reluctantly, as he felt both his father and Elia wished for a quieter life at Summerhall, his plans for their protection were accepted and when he went to rise and walk for the room, he heard his father's chuckle.
"Eager for the day to be at an end, son." his father said knowingly.
"Very much so. Until tomorrow, father, Elia," he said noticing his father's smile grow larger at him naming him such.
It was something that had become somewhat easier since they'd spoken of his mother. No longer something that he'd used to almost score points against his father either which he now felt was petty and unbecoming. There was still a distance between them and they'd never be a true father and son, Daemon still thought of Thoros more than anyone that way. Yet they were far closer to it than they had been in many a year. For now, that was enough he felt. With a kiss to Elia's cheek and a nod to his father, he walked from the room, and soon enough he found himself at his wife's door.
He noticed it immediately and during dinner that night it only became more apparent that something was bothering his wife. When they'd finished eating and were alone, he led her to the couch in their chambers and bid her sit with him. Feeling her shiver at his touch, and not in the way he wished her to, he asked her what concerned her so and was stunned when she began to sob against his chest. Daemon whispered words that he hoped brought her some comfort and bid her tell him what worried her so. Never did he expect the words that she spoke to him or how she couldn't look him in the eye as she did so.
"I'm a child of incest, Daemon, my father is not the man I believed him to be, but the man I thought an uncle. I'm….I'm not who I thought I was… I'm… I'm…"
"Hush my love, fret not," he said as he pulled her closer to him.
"But I'm…."
"What the same as so many of my kin? The same as Dany and Viserys, as my grandmother? You think it bothers me that your mother and uncle were lovers or that you are the result of that love?" he asked and it was enough to make her look him in the eye, he hoped his expression proved the truth of his words for he had spoken truly.
"But I'm…"
"The woman I loved when I woke this morning and the woman I love now. Who sired you changes that not," he said and before he could speak anymore, she was kissing him deeply.
Though he knew there was more she wished to speak to him about, it was clear in how she was trying to rip his clothes from his body just how much she needed him to comfort her this way for now. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to their bed and as he undressed, she did so even more quickly than he did. Their coupling was frenzied, rougher than either of them would normally have liked and yet it was needed. After they'd exhausted themselves, she began to sob once more and he held her to his chest and let her do so.
He spoke no words and waited until she told him what it was that truly worried her. While her life and all she knew of it being turned on its head had affected her greatly, there was more to it and it took some time for her to speak the words. Daemon listened as she spoke of blackmail and Maesters, of a letter sent to her mother to try and force her to refuse the crown that marriage to him had forced onto her head. Though the fault was not his own, he felt it still. For had he not come into her life then she'd be oblivious to the truth of herself and when he tried to tell her so, her anger was something he welcomed.
"Don't say that. Don't you dare say that to me. My life would not be better without you, Daemon, it wouldn't….I wouldn't."
"Forgive me, my love," he said as he kissed her softly and while she didn't notice it, he had seen how her anger had forced her fears and worries away, something he told her which eventually made her laugh for the first time.
"I don't know what I'm to do, Daemon. Mother, unc… fat… Jaime, gods my grandfather. Should this get out…" she shivered.
"I told you it matters not, Cella. I come from a family where brother wed sister and so I'm not hypocritical enough to look at your mother and father and see what they did as wrong when I'd not do so with mine own family," he said trying to make her understand.
"King you may be, a Dragonrider too, and yet your will is not absolute, Daemon. The faith would use this, others would use this, and I…"
"You're shamed by it?" he asked and she shook her head.
"Tommen, Grandfather, I fear how they'd…"
"I'll deal with it," he said as he kissed her and then moved from the bed, Myrcella looking at him in confusion as he began to dress.
"Daemon?"
"I'll be gone for a day or two. Upon my return, this will have been taken care of. Speak to your mother, Cella. I know you may be angered with her and your father, but speak to her and worry no more on this." he said as he moved to her and kissed her once more "I love you."
"I love you too," she said as Ghost took his place on the bed and he walked from his bed-chamber.
His footsteps took him first to Thoros' rooms and then to Rhaenys' before he then made his way to White Sword Tower. He felt bad for waking up Arthur, but he'd promised to keep the Kingsguard in the loop of the things he did and it was time for Arthur to find out what it felt like to fly upon a dragon's back. It was just the two of them who rode to the Lannister Manse and their arrival caused a stir.
"Your grace, my niece?" Tyrion asked worriedly.
"Is well and asleep, Tyrion. I need to speak to your brother and sister. It's a personal matter, not a matter for the crown, hence why I've come myself at this hour. I'm sorry for waking you."
"There is no need to be so, your grace, I'd been reading and was up anyway, though I'm sure my father will be pleased to be allowed to continue his sleep. I'll send for Cersei and Jaime, do you require anything, some refreshments?"
"I'm good, Tyrion, thanks."
It took some time for Jaime and Cersei to make their way to the room that he waited in. Arthur stood guard outside and when the two Lannisters entered, it was clear that both had been awakened at his behest and while Jaime was wary, Cersei looked fearful. Something he did his best to assuage quickly.
"Myrcella is well, as well as can be expected. I'd suggest you visit her on the morrow, Lady Cersei, she has much she wishes to speak to you on."
"I… of course, your grace," Cersei said shakily.
"Daemon. I'm here tonight as a husband, not a king." he said and she barely nodded "Myrcella told me the truth of things. I want you both to know that it changes things not in regards to how I feel about her and that I am not here to look down upon you or speak down to either of you."
"I don't…" Cersei began only for his words to cut her off.
"I can hardly look at you and tell you what you did was wrong or sinful given who my family is, can I? I don't believe love can ever be sinful or wrong, those who do are fools to my mind, so take some comfort in that if you can," he said to a relieved sigh from Jaime and a confused and surprised look from Cersei.
"Why are you here, Daemon?" Jaime said and he was glad he'd used his name.
"Myrcella tells me that it's your Maester at Casterly Rock, a man named Creylen, is this right?" he asked to nods from both Cersei and Jaime "And there are others?" he asked to more nods "Very well, it seems it's to Casterly Rock that we must fly, Ser Jaime, I doubt it will be the last stop we make."
"You're going to confront Creylen, your grace?" Cersei asked and he swore he saw the first inklings of a smile on her face.
"Oh no, not me. He'll face someone far more terrifying than I am. By the time we're done speaking to him, he'll tell us every single person who wishes to use this truth to harm my wife." he said before rising to his feet "And then I'll send each of them to meet my god."