[Chapter Size: 2200 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Winterfell.
...
...
Daemon hadn't stopped looking at his uncle, hunched beside him that morning, while the hall remained quite empty since they had woken early.
Val and Ygritte were still sleeping in their room, while Benjen had the habit of waking very early at the Wall, so there weren't many people around at that moment.
Daemon gave him a slap on the shoulder, making him almost jump.
"What is it, uncle? You're sitting there all curled up?"
"She's here, isn't she?" Benjen murmured.
"You know she is," Daemon replied, as he felt something move behind him, through the air, above his shoulder. His mother seemed interested in something they had talked about yesterday, as she floated above Daemon's shoulder, staring at Benjen.
"Tell me, did you two argue or something? What's going on here?" Daemon commented, while Benjen seemed to shrink even more.
It seemed there had been another argument yesterday… Daemon remembered leaving Benjen arguing with his mother in the godswood. As for him, he carried a sense of guilt, although Daemon didn't pay much attention to it, since he had gone to his room with his spear-wife.
"Well, whatever it is you two need to discuss, settle it soon. We have a long day ahead," he said, shrugging. He didn't know what that was about, but he wanted them to resolve it themselves — after all, even though one of them was dead, they were still brothers.
At the same time, armed men entered the hall, heading toward the main table.
"Your Grace, the Umbers and the Karstarks will arrive in about ten minutes," a man informed formally.
"Excellent. You may return to your post. Guards, wake my cousins and the other northern lords. I want everyone present. I'll receive our guests," Daemon said, standing from the table and heading toward the courtyard, where he waited for his companions.
Robb, Rickon, and Bran also arrived a few minutes later. The northern nobles gathered as well, waiting while the banners of the Umbers and Karstarks approached the castle gates.
The Umber heir was nothing but a child, while young Lady Karstark was a girl, which made Daemon raise an eyebrow when he saw her standing close to the leader of the Free Folk he had placed in the castle to help her rule — Sigorn, Magnar of Thenns.
Still, that didn't matter at the moment. When he received them, both bowed respectfully before him, accompanied by the men under their command.
"Bring bread and salt for our guests," Daemon said, casting a glance at Lady Karstark, who didn't seem to mind standing beside a man of the Free Folk before the other northerners. In fact, there was something in her gaze that made it clear that the man beside her — a man of the Free Folk — was someone she trusted.
"Lady Karstark, how are the ships? I hope everything went well regarding the search for the people of Skagos," said Daemon. After all, Lady Karstark had promised to send a letter to Karhold, making ships available to fetch the men from Skagos, since Daemon had negotiated their surrender and loyalty when he visited the city with the Magnar of Skagos to summon them for the war.
"Everything is as you requested, Your Grace. The ships have already returned to the continent. According to the latest news I received, three thousand men are already advancing toward Winterfell," she replied.
"Excellent. Now, make yourselves comfortable. Winterfell welcomes you," said Daemon.
Lady Karstark nodded, greeting the others. Daemon could sense a certain bitterness from her as she looked at Robb. Her father had been executed during the war by his hand, even if for disobedience. Still, she couldn't help but look at him with some disdain, while thinking of her brothers who had been captured — perhaps dead now, since their lives no longer seemed to hold any worth.
Ned Umber was more timid.
"Your Grace," he said, approaching Daemon. "May I visit my uncle?"
The question referred to Mors Umber, who was in the dungeons.
"Very well. Men, take the boy to his uncle," ordered Daemon.
With that, they led the boy away, leaving Daemon watching them depart after greeting him, Daenerys, and the others.
Winterfell seemed increasingly lively. Some shipments were arriving from nearby villages, bringing more men and servants to help with the reconstruction.
The halls were filled with laughter, dark beer, and cheerful conversation. They spoke about how Daemon had executed three hundred servants in Hornwood, who were traitors, or about how he had liberated the invaded regions with the Free Folk army, defeating the Boltons and the men of the Iron Islands.
Daemon also told stories, sharing moments at the feast and showing that he knew how to enjoy himself among nobles and wildlings alike. He recounted how he had threatened Stannis and invaded White Harbor, drawing laughter from some and attentive looks from others.
"We heard what happened at Moat Cailin," said Maege Mormont, raising her goblet. "The women you left guarding the castle said you turned into a white wolf. We heard about that before — you did it in King's Landing and in the Riverlands... Is it true that you can transform into that creature?"
The hall fell silent. Everyone looked directly at Daemon, waiting for his answer. Some had already witnessed his abilities, but most had never seen anything like him turning into the giant wolf — a kind of monster, larger than any other man. They said he was stronger and faster than the strongest and fastest of men.
The guests seemed divided between curiosity and fear. Bran, Rickon, Ned, Grey, and even Lafy watched with wide eyes. Robb remembered seeing the Mountain's body torn apart after finding Daemon in a corner of the Riverlands — and even then, he couldn't imagine such a creature in full form, capable of doing that to the Mountain. The people of the town where Daemon had attacked the Lannisters had described the scene as a wolf wielding an ice axe.
Daemon took a deep breath.
"Well, it's true. I can transform into a wolf, as you described. But the right word is werewolf. However, I don't intend to display that for you just to prove something. After all, I'm not a circus. I hope you remember that," he said in a firm tone, breaking the silence.
He didn't intend to keep reaffirming his powers.
"And they say you can even change the weather…" Lady Maege insisted again, unafraid. "I heard you brought a storm upon the Dustin stronghold and slaughtered all the ironborn during the hour of the wolf."
Daemon let out a faint smile at the woman's boldness.
"You could say that… in a certain way," he replied. He himself had already demonstrated his powers several times — and control over the weather was one of the most remarkable.
"If you're going to ask more questions, my lady Mormont, I'll tell you in advance that the answer will be the same. Whether I can shield myself from arrows while opening a gate alone in the middle of a siege, or cut down fifty men in two minutes… most of those tales are true," said Daemon, ending the matter with calm and authority.
"And you gained all these powers in that land where you stayed for twelve years?" Bran asked curiously.
Daemon couldn't be angry at the question. While no one dared bring up that subject, he hadn't expected an immediate answer either.
"You could say that, in a beautiful way," Daemon replied, noticing Jojen Reed's bright gaze among the nobles seated nearby. He and his sister had also arrived along with Bran, Rickon, Benjen, and Mance, coming with the group from the North.
"Yes, I gained all that through something only I could do in Skyrim," said Daemon.
"And what exactly is that?" Bran asked, curious.
Daemon gave a slight smile.
"I hunted down a kind of plague. And I was the only one who could kill them," he answered.
"What kind of plague would that be?" Maege asked again, leaning forward.
"Dragons," Daemon replied naturally. "I killed dragons. During those twelve years, I killed more than fifty of them in Skyrim."
The entire hall fell into silence at the confession.
Later that night, Daenerys watched him as she lay down on the bed, taking off her dress.
"You left me speechless today, my generous dragon slayer," she said with a faint smile.
"Do you really think that of me?" Daemon asked calmly, as he helped her remove Lucis's clothing, watching her timidly standing before him.
"You're a Targaryen who went to another world, gained a strength no one else possesses, and even told them you hunted more than fifty dragons, Daemon. What do you think they're going to make of all that? It's too much for most people to comprehend," Daenerys replied, now naked as she lay down on the bed, beckoning him with a gesture.
Lucis and Daenerys would spend the night with him, as usual — he divided his nights among his four wives, sleeping with two at a time in rotation.
"Surely our ancestors would be horrified," he said with a smile, letting his own cloak fall along with Lucis's, kissing the dark-haired woman's neck and guiding her to the bed as she released a soft, restrained moan, joining Daenerys, who already waited naked upon the sheets.
"Well, it's not as if you're killing dragons anymore... Surely even our ancestors would fear you. No Targaryen is like you, Daemon," Daenerys murmured, gazing at him as he lay over them.
"So I'm greater than Aegon the Conqueror?" Daemon asked teasingly, climbing onto the bed after setting Lucis down, positioning himself above Daenerys. She pressed her lips together, aroused, while he ran his hand along Lucis's bare body, caressing her.
"You are the greatest of the Targaryens, the most powerful that ever existed. No one can deny that. And yet here you are… playing at conquering a continent with only one dragon. When Aegon needed two wives and three dragons to do the same," Daenerys replied, smiling between kisses.
Daemon pulled his lips from hers for a moment and laughed softly.
"I may not have what Aegon had… or have Visenya and Rhaenys by my side," he said, glancing at the two women. "But I'm quite content with my Daenerys."
He then leaned in, staring into Lucis's eyes with his intense blue gaze, and kissed her deeply as well.
"I won't deny I'm very satisfied having my spear-wives too," Daemon said, as Daenerys grabbed him by the neck and pulled him to her once more, leaving Lucis aside.
"Good, my lord… then why don't you take me as a true Targaryen takes his dragon?" she whispered with a teasing smile.
He laughed, and Daenerys made the most of the night with the clear intention of becoming pregnant.
The days passed, and the next great wave of nobles arrived — Lord Stark himself, accompanied by Lord Manderly and representatives of the Iron Bank. Everyone was finally beginning to gather at Winterfell, while Daemon observed the model map of Westeros his men had completed a few days earlier.
He was pleased with the work. He began to plan his strategy with those who would accompany him on his southern campaign. On another table rested four blades — weapons he had acquired since coming to this world.
The first was the blade obtained after a Child of the Forest tried to kill him with it during the battle with the three-eyed raven: Dark Sister.
The second was the Leviathan Axe, found in a frozen region far to the north, forged from the very ice that once imprisoned Winter when she herself was frozen.
The third was the sword of House Stark, stolen from King's Landing.
And the fourth, a weapon given by Meridia — a blade crafted specifically to slay the dead and to bring light to the Long Night.
"My lord, they're already arriving," announced a guard approaching him.
Daemon nodded, beginning to store each of the swords away, returning all four to their dimensional space. Three of them would remain his. He would only give away the Stark sword — after all, his uncle would need something to fight with if he wished to face him in judgment.
"Very well. Let's go," said Daemon, walking through the corridors of Winterfell.
When he reached the ground floor, he found Daenerys with Ser Barristan Selmy and Ghost — the direwolf now followed Daenerys as a silent protector wherever she went.
Daemon smiled.
"How have you been this day, my queen?" he asked.
"Quite pleased, my king. Despite the calm name of the day, after such a pleasant night," she replied with a teasing look.
They had barely had time to exchange many words since waking up.
"Excellent. Now let's welcome my uncle. He'll love returning to his old seat," Daemon said with a confident smile, as he walked toward the courtyard accompanied by Daenerys.
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