Chapter 5 – Daemon's Scheming
The cries of a newborn echoed through the Red Keep, sharp and bright against the cold stone halls. Outside the birthing chamber, the air was thick with incense and anticipation. Maesters, wet nurses, and handmaidens scurried in every direction like nervous birds, and in the middle of it all stood Prince Daemon Targaryen — young, proud, and smiling faintly, as if he alone understood the meaning behind the day's joy.
Prince Viserys, beaming and flushed, emerged at last with the infant swaddled in crimson silk. "Our family," he declared, his voice trembling, "has gained a princess. My daughter — Rhaenyra."
One by one, the gathered lords and ladies took turns admiring the child. When the babe was finally placed in Daemon's arms, his violet eyes softened. Sixteen years separated uncle and niece — yet in the half-forgotten timeline that haunted his dreams, she would one day become his wife, his queen, and his downfall. Together they would plunge the realm into the Dance of the Dragons — a war that would consume their blood, their kin, and their dragons alike.
Not again, he vowed silently. This time, I will not let history repeat itself.
---
"Such a beautiful child," murmured Queen Alysanne, her silver hair glinting in the firelight. "Perhaps one day, she shall wear a crown."
The word queen lingered in the air like a spark on dry grass. Princess Rhaenys, standing nearby, arched a brow. "A queen? Forgive me, Grandmother, but the Seven Kingdoms have long memories. Women do not sit easily upon the Iron Throne."
Her tone was casual, but the bitterness beneath it was unmistakable. Every face in the room stiffened. Even King Jaehaerys's smile faded, the lines of age deepening around his mouth.
"My sweet Rhaenys," he said heavily. "Must every joy be turned into a quarrel over crowns? The babe has drawn her first breath, and already you speak of thrones."
Rhaenys dipped her head in false humility. "I only meant that we should not raise her on false hopes, as some once raised me."
Daemon's lips twitched — half amusement, half warning. "Perhaps Princess Rhaenys is merely tired from her flight," he said smoothly. "A dragon's wings may soar far, but the heart grows weary in the sky."
King Jaehaerys sighed. "Then rest, child. Let the rest of us go and see Aemma."
The royal procession disappeared into the chamber, leaving behind Daemon, Rhaenys, Queen Consort Jocelyn, and young Princess Gael. Rhaenys's children, Laena and Laenor, played in the courtyard with wooden dragons, their laughter ringing faintly through the windows.
Jocelyn Baratheon — still striking in her widowhood — watched her daughter with quiet disapproval. "You push too hard, Rhaenys. Every word you speak of succession sharpens the King's wrath."
"Then let him be angered," Rhaenys retorted. "He will never look kindly upon me or mine, no matter how softly I speak. My children have blood as royal as any in this castle."
Daemon hid a smile. "So you would pit your dragons against his patience?"
Rhaenys turned her sharp eyes on him. "You mock me, nephew?"
"Never," he said lightly. "I admire boldness. Though sometimes boldness flies too close to the sun."
Outside, a low rumble shook the ground. The Red Queen, Meleys, had crawled to the edge of the yard, her crimson wings folded like the sails of a great ship. Daemon approached her without hesitation, lifting little Laena into his arms.
"Careful," Rhaenys warned sharply. "A dragon's temper is not a thing to toy with."
Daemon placed a hand upon the dragon's snout. "She remembers my mother," he said softly. "There's a soul in her fire — perhaps a part of Alyssa Targaryen herself."
"Madness," Rhaenys muttered. "You speak like a sorcerer."
"Or a shapeshifter," Daemon replied. His eyes glimmered with mischief. "Have you never heard the tales? In the North, they say some souls can slip the bonds of flesh and live through beasts — wolves, bears, eagles."
Before Rhaenys could respond, Archmaester Elysar arrived with Maester Barth and several courtiers in tow. The Archmaester's expression was sour. "Prince Daemon, spreading wildlings' tales in the Red Keep? What next — ghosts and children of the forest?"
Daemon smirked. "Just because you have not seen them, Archmaester, does not mean they do not exist."
Maester Barth, always gentler in manner, stroked his beard thoughtfully. "On this, I must agree with the Prince. The old magics have not vanished, only slumbered. There are truths hidden even from the Citadel."
The Archmaester snorted. "You defend him because he flatters your curiosity."
"And you condemn him," Daemon countered, "because you fear what lies beyond your books."
Even King Jaehaerys, rejoining them, could not suppress a faint smile. "Daemon, you've turned philosopher now? Will you next tell us how to rule the realm?"
"If you wish," Daemon said boldly. "Oldtown grows rich because it shelters both the Faith and the Citadel. King's Landing could surpass it — if we built our own Great Sept and a hall for scholars beside it. Let Visenya's Hill be crowned not just with dragons, but with wisdom."
For a moment, silence fell. Even the King's Hand, Maester Barth, seemed taken aback.
Jaehaerys studied his grandson for a long time. "You surprise me, boy. I thought you were made only for swordplay and scandal."
Daemon's smile was faint, but his eyes gleamed like polished steel. "Even a sword must learn when to strike, Your Grace."
---
That night, as torches burned low in the Red Keep, Daemon stood upon the balcony of his chamber, watching the smoke curl over the city. Below him lay the slums of Flea Bottom — the place he would one day rule as the Prince of the City. The cries of merchants and beggars rose with the wind, mingling with the distant roar of dragons.
He whispered to the night:
"This time, I will build more than thrones. I will build a legacy."
The dragonfire far below answered with a hiss, as if in promise.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like the story please give it some power stones and reviews. And if you want to read 40+ advance chapters or just want to support me please join my patreon at [email protected]/Translatingfanfics