36 Chapter 34 - The Sword Of The Morning
277 AC
Arthur Pov
The doors of the small council chamber creaked open, and Rhaegar emerged, a triumphant smile gracing his features.
"It worked, Arthur," he declared, jubilation evident in his voice. "Father listened to me."
"I only wish Jon were here too," he continued, voicing a sentiment I couldn't help but agree with, nodding in response.
Jon had returned to Griffin's Roost, and if the words of House Connington's maester held true, it wouldn't be long before Jon assumed the Lordship Of Hosue Connington given his father's ailing condition.
"Let's move away from prying eyes," I suggested, noticing Prince Daemon's scrutinizing gaze directed towards us, prompting a nod from Rhaegar.
The younger prince unsettled me. In our first encounters many years ago, he had been just like any other child, curious about swords and exploration. But as time passed, he grew more unpredictable. "He cannot be trusted," Jon had warned Rhaegar and the rest of us, a sentiment I wholeheartedly shared.
Despite Daemon's status as the youngest knight in the history of the Seven Kingdoms, he lacked the qualities befitting a true knight. His handling of Richard Lonmouth sent shivers down everyone's spines, revealing a brutality that chilled the blood.
"Thank the Seven he's not the Crown Prince," echoed the thoughts of those present, relief palpable in the air.
For Rhaegar stood as the epitome of everything Daemon was not. Where Daemon was prone to quick anger, Rhaegar remained patient. While Daemon harbored vengeance, Rhaegar offered forgiveness.
And that was one of the many reasons I followed Rhaegar Targaryen.
"He will be the greatest king in the history of the Seven Kingdoms, Arthur," Jon had said, his words carrying the weight of conviction, and I believed him.
"I will be his Hand of the King, while you will be the sword that protects him," he had declared, and I wholeheartedly agreed.
We reached Rhaegar's personal quarters, where Myles Mooton, Rhaegar's former squire, and Jaime Lannister, his current squire, were seated. As soon as Rhaegar entered, Jaime rushed towards him.
"Prince Rhaegar, what happened?" the young Lannister inquired eagerly.
"The king has agreed to send me to deal with Lord Darklyn himself," Rhaegar announced.
"That is wonderful," Myles Mooton remarked, voicing the sentiment shared by everyone present.
In order to lead the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaegar needed experience and prestige beyond mere tournament victories. This was an area where his younger brother had surpassed him.
Daemon Targaryen's name inspired both reverence and fear, particularly after the events of the Golden Feast, where he had slaughtered around a hundred Goldcloaks. People feared him, and Jon's words echoed in my mind, "He does whatever the hell he wants, and the king does nothing."
"Along with the fact that he is betrothed to the daughter of the strongest lord in the Seven Kingdoms," Jon had added.
The betrothal between Prince Daemon and Cersei Lannister had caught many off guard. Most had expected it would be Rhaegar, as the crown prince, who would be betrothed to her.
"She does not have any Valyrian blood," was the argument the king had made.
King Aerys had sent Lord Steffon Baratheon to find a bride for Rhaegar in Essos, but fortunately, he had not found anyone suitable. Thus, Rhaegar was spared a foreign betrothal that would bring him little of value.
"I will be taking seven knights to Duskendale," Rhaegar announced.
"Arthur, Myles, Gwayne Gaunt of the Kingsguard, and four household knights," he specified.
"But Prince Rhaegar, I wish to come as well," Jamie interjected.
"Ask Ser Arthur. I have made immense progress in my swordsmanship," Jamie pleaded, seeking Rhaegar's approval.
Rhaegar responded with a small smile. "Jamie, you indeed possess immense talent, but you are not a knight. I can only bring seven knights alongside me," he explained gently.
"But why seven knights?" Jamie persisted impatiently.
Rhaegar took a small breath before continuing. "The High Septon is not pleased with the actions of my brother," he revealed.
"Prince Daemon has let power cloud his judgment, spending his gold on brothels and wine, whoring to his heart's content," Rhaegar explained, the disappointment evident in his tone.
"They call him the Second Coming of the Rogue Prince," he added, conveying the severity of the situation.
The High Septon's discontent weighed heavily on Rhaegar's mind, and he sought to garner the support of the Faith. Thus, he intended to journey to Duskendale alongside seven knights, symbolically aligning himself with the Seven Gods.
It was a solid plan; by bringing Lord Darklyn back into the fold, the acclaim received by Prince Rhaegar would surely surpass that of Prince Daemon. It would serve as a testament to the Seven Kingdoms that there was someone who could rival the darkness embodied by the actions of Prince Daemon.
After some time, Rhaegar departed, and I accompanied him towards the gardens, painted in the hues of the setting sun within the Red Keep.
Observing from a distance, I noticed Cersei Lannister awaiting his arrival. I lingered outside, allowing Rhaegar to enter.
As I observed their interaction, a sense of concern crept over me at the way Cersei looked at Prince Rhaegar. Ever since her arrival at court as the handmaiden of the Queen, she had been spending increasingly more time with Rhaegar. Despite the apparent enjoyment on Rhaegar's part, it didn't sit right with me.
Lady Cersei was already betrothed to Prince Daemon, and if this continued, it could tarnish Prince Rhaegar's reputation.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Rhaegar emerged from the gardens, holding a cloth embroidered with a black dragon.
"Isn't this lovely, Arthur?" he remarked, but I remained silent.
Meeting his violet gaze, I voiced my concerns. "Rhaegar, she is your brother's betrothed," I reminded him.
"I am aware of that, Arthur," he replied, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
"Don't you see the way she looks at you, Rhaegar?" I pressed on.
"What do you mean, friend?" he inquired.
"She desires you, Rhaegar," I stated plainly, causing his eyes to widen.
"And how did you come to that conclusion, Arthur?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"Because she looks at you the same way Ashara looks at your brother," I explained.
At my words, Rhaegar fell silent.
Quietly, we made our way towards Maegor's Holdfast before a servant intercepted us, informing us that the Hand of the King wished to speak with Rhaegar.
We arrived at the Tower of the Hand and entered the solar of Lord Tywin.
"Prince Rhaegar, you've brought company," Lord Tywin remarked, his gaze shifting towards me.
"I wish to discuss certain matters with you in private," he continued, addressing Rhaegar.
"I trust Arthur with my life, Lord Tywin," Rhaegar asserted firmly, prompting the lion's eyes to pierce into mine before returning to Rhaegar.
"Very well then", he said.
"Firstly, I wish you good fortune in the task of dealing with Darklyn," Lord Tywin began.
Rhaegar nodded in acknowledgment.
"How is my son progressing?" he inquired.
"Jaime is naturally talented, Lord Tywin, and in the near future, he could easily surpass most knights in Westeros," Rhaegar replied, a hint of pride evident in his tone, causing a faint tug at the corner of Lord Tywin's mouth.
"What about my daughter, then?" Lord Tywin pressed, instantly putting me on alert.
"I do not understand, Lord Hand," Rhaegar responded cautiously.
"I am aware that you have been spending quite some time with my daughter, Prince Rhaegar," Lord Tywin stated coolly.
"There is nothing untoward happening between the two of us, I assure you, Lord Hand," Rhaegar replied, his tone betraying a hint of nervousness. It was no small matter to be questioned by the most formidable man in Westeros. Surpassing Prince Daemon in infamy by leaps and bounds the only way that Prince Daemon could become as feared by the lords of the seven kingdoms was to burn down a noble house root and stem.
"You may continue seeing my daughter, Prince Rhaegar. I will not stop you," Lord Tywin declared, leaving me astonished.
Prince Daemon had been nurtured by Lord Tywin since childhood, serving as his cupbearer, and being betrothed to his daughter only deepened their familial ties. Then it struck me.
The Lion did not seek the second prince; rather, he desired the crown prince. Through Rhaegar, his grandchildren stood a chance at ascending the throne and expanding the influence of House Lannister.
As we departed from the Tower of the Hand, Jon's voice echoed in my mind.
"One has to keep their mind as sharp as their body while playing the game of thrones, Arthur," his words resonated, urging me to maintain vigilance amidst the intricate machinations of court politics.
"Dawn truly shines at night," came the voice of Prince Daemon as I glanced back and saw him standing alone.
"You wouldn't mind if I perform some tests on the sword, would you, Ser Arthur?" he asked casually, but immediately, my blood began to boil.
"Calm down, man. Seems like I should only talk to you in the morning and not at night," he quipped with a grin.
"What do you want, Daemon?" Rhaegar interjected, his tone firm.
"Brother, I want many things. Women, power, and dragons being the most important," he replied with a mischievous grin. "But you can only give me one thing, brother," he added, his tone shifting.
"What is it that you want, Daemon?" Rhaegar inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"Your safety," Daemon stated bluntly.
Both Rhaegar and I were taken aback by his unexpected concern.
"Do not go to Duskendale with only seven men, Rhaegar. It's foolish," Daemon continued, his tone serious.
"You don't think me capable enough, do you, Daemon?" Rhaegar questioned, a hint of offense in his voice.
"I never said you weren't capable, brother, but I don't wish for something to happen to you," Daemon clarified.
"Is that a threat, Prince Daemon?" I interjected, my hand instinctively resting on Dawn's pommel.
"You truly are a meathead, Arthur," he retorted. "No matter how skilled you are, quantity always trumps quality, unless you're a dragon. Then your opponent is truly screwed."
"Anyways, back to the topic," Daemon continued. "Rhaegar, I know you won't listen to me, but just do one thing. When you enter the Dun Fort, ask for bread and salt before entering the damned castle. And if Lord Darklyn refuses, then leave at once," he advised.
Rhaegar nodded solemnly. "Very well, brother."
"I wish you the best, Rhaegar," Daemon said before departing, but not before trailing behind and adding, "No matter what, Rhaegar, you are my flesh and blood. Remember that."
-----
It had taken us ten days to reach the port town of Duskendale. Rhaegar rode at the head, with me right behind him, alongside Ser Gwayne Gaunt, Ser Myles Mooton, and four other knights of House Targaryen.
"It doesn't smell as much," Ser Myles remarked, gesturing to the rest of us with a laugh.
As we entered the town, the attention of the guards and onlookers turned towards Rhaegar, who looked resplendent in his black armor adorned with rubies shaped like dragons. His long hair billowed in the air, as he chose not to wear a helm. Meanwhile, I rode in the colors of House Dayne, with Dawn strapped to my back, ready to be unsheathed at a moment's notice.
"My prince, I am Ser Symon Hollard. Lord Denys Darklyn has sent me to bring you to the Dun Fort," the man announced. His greying hair and crooked teeth caught my attention, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
As we proceeded towards the Dun Fort, the people of the town watched us pass by.
The Dun Fort loomed ahead, a large castle overlooking Duskendale, with its square keep and towering drum towers.
Upon our entry, I noticed numerous knights and men-at-arms, armed to the teeth, which raised alarm among my companions. Even Rhaegar, though outwardly steady, couldn't mask a hint of wariness.
Dismounting, we approached the massive door of the keep.
"Why is Lord Darklyn not present to greet the prince?" Ser Gwayne Gaunt questioned, his white cape fluttering in the wind.
"And where is the bread and salt?" Ser Myles added, voicing our shared concern.
"Do not worry, respected knights. Lord Denys has decided to offer bread and salt in the court," the messenger assured us, though his eyes darted around nervously.
"Rhaegar, we should not proceed," I whispered gently in his ear.
"It is fine, Arthur. He would not dare to harm me," he replied confidently, leading us into the keep, albeit with caution.
Entering the hall of Dun Fort, I saw Lord Denys seated on his chair, accompanied by a Myrish woman whom I recognized as his wife, Lady Seralla of Myr, whom he had married a few years prior.
"I had asked for the king, but he sent his pup to deal with me," Lord Denys remarked, and for a moment, I was taken aback.
"Mind your tongue, Lord Darklyn. You are speaking to the prince," Ser Gwayne Gaunt intervened, his sword drawn.
"And the prince he did send was the useless crown prince instead of the younger one," Darklyn retorted.
"Mind your tongue, Lord Darklyn!" Rhaegar's voice boomed, rare fury flashing in his eyes.
"I will get my city charter one way or the other," Darklyn declared, his words betraying a lack of coherence.
"Keep the prince alive, and kill his companions," he commanded, waving his hand dismissively as if we were mere disposable pawns.
The air was thick with the clash of steel as Darklyn's men-at-arms descended upon us.
"Protect the prince!" I roared, my voice drowned out by the cacophony of battle echoing through the hall.
Dawn sliced through our assailants with deadly precision, but amidst the fury of combat, I saw a crossbow bolt whiz past me, finding its mark in Myles' neck. He crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.
"No!" I screamed, fury burning in my veins as I fought on, but with each swing, the tide of battle turned more against us.
"Quantity always trumps quality," echoed Prince Daemon's voice in my mind, a bitter reminder of our dire situation.
"Damn it!" I cursed as more of my companions fell, their bodies adding to the crimson carnage littering the hall. I fought on, driven by desperation, but exhaustion began to gnaw at my strength.
Rhaegar, too, was bloodied, a crossbow bolt embedded in his thigh. Yet, even in his pain, he urged me to flee.
"You need to leave, Arthur," he insisted, his voice strained. "Go and inform Father. Tell Daemon what happened."
"I won't leave without you," I protested, my heart torn asunder.
"You must, Arthur. Go!" he commanded, his words heavy with resolve, before collapsing to the ground.
"Just stay alive, Rhaegar. I will come for you, I promise," I vowed, tears of frustration and grief threatening to overwhelm me as I rushed out of the keep, my emotions a tempest raging within.
"FUCK!" I screamed into the night, the weight of failure heavy upon me.
I will save you, Rhaegar. No matter the cost.
-----
Defiance of Duskendale
In the two hundred and seventy-seventh year since Aegon's Conquest, the Defiance of Duskendale took place, marking a tumultuous period in the annals of Westerosi history. The events leading up to this pivotal moment were steeped in political intrigue and ultimately culminated in bloodshed and betrayal, leaving an indelible mark on the realm.
At the onset of the year, Lord Denys Darklyn, ruler of Duskendale, sought to elevate his town's status by petitioning for a city charter. However, his request was met with rejection, sparking defiance from Darklyn. Refusing to pay taxes in protest and harboring a desire to personally plead his case before the king, Darklyn's actions set the stage for a confrontation with the crown.
The news of Darklyn's defiance reached the capital, inciting the ire of Prince Daemon Targaryen, the king's second son. Eager to assert royal authority and quell the rebellion, Prince Daemon sought permission to confront Lord Darklyn. However, King Aerys II Targaryen instead dispatched his eldest son, Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, to negotiate with Darklyn and restore order to Duskendale.
Yet, in a shocking turn of events, Lord Darklyn not only defied the crown but also committed a grave act of treachery by imprisoning the crown prince and executing his companions. Only the Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur of House Dayne, managed to escape the clutches of Darklyn's grasp.
The Defiance of Duskendale commenced with an eruption of violence and betrayal, plunging the realm into chaos. However, the resolution of the conflict underscored the enduring motto of House Targaryen: "Fire and Blood."The crown's response to Lord Darklyn's defiance was swift and merciless, epitomized by the dispatch of Prince Daemon Targaryen to quell the rebellion. His arrival in Duskendale served as a chilling reminder of the consequences awaiting those who dared challenge royal authority. Blood would stain the streets as Prince Daemon unleashed the full fury of the crown's wrath upon the rebellious town. The clash of swords echoed through the narrow alleys, mingling with the agonized cries of the fallen. The Defiance of Duskendale was met with an onslaught of fire and steel, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake. In the end the Seven Kingdoms would witness the brutal cost of rebellion, with Duskendale's streets running crimson with the blood of the defiant and the fallen.
In the aftermath of the Defiance of Duskendale, the town and its inhabitants bore witness to the ruthless retribution of the crown led by Prince Daemon Targaryen. The events of this period would be recounted for generations to come, serving as a cautionary tale of the perils of rebellion and the unwavering power of the Iron Throne.
- An Excerpt from Fire and Blood written By Archmaestser Gyldayn
