Chapter 1-Prologue
ASHARA DAYNE
The Red Keep had seen some turbulent times over the last few months. The catastrophe, now infamous as the Defiance of Duskendale, had shaken the very foundation of King Aerys Targaryen's rule.
The cracks that had always existed were now becoming gaping chasms, and King Aerys's paranoia and instability had only ever grown since the tragedy. The captivity had taken a toll on the King. He had lost much weight and gained a sense of great paranoia, making him see enemies everywhere.
Given that the man behind this whole ordeal, Lord Darklyn, had died during the siege with his lady wife, Lady Serala, the one who was suspected to be the true orchestrator of this whole tragedy, had gone missing as well, she could somewhat understand the reason behind the King's increasing paranoia, more so if one were to add to all this everything the man had went through over the months of captivity.
Yet as the King sat on his throne, his hair long and uneven, reaching below his shoulder, his eyes sunken in still as they trotted around the assembled court somewhat nervously and cautiously even though the Seven Knights of the Kingsguard surrounded him, one of which was her own brother, Arthur.
His nails had grown big enough, and his overall features showed a lack of grooming. Something she didn't find surprising given that Arthur had told her how the King had not let anyone come near him with a sharp object since the whole tragedy.
The lack of care now marred the once ravishing Targaryen beauty of the King. Though if one were to seek an example of the beauty of old Valyria, they didn't need to look far as at the head of the assembled lords stood the two scions of pure Valyrian descent.
Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and the younger Prince Daemon, two Princes, stood at the head of the crowd, both of them clad in their armor. The elder Prince favored longer hair, with his slightly curly locks reaching down his ears, his face thinner and longer as he stood half a head taller than his younger brother.
Prince Daemon, on the other hand, favored shorter hair, and while he was shorter than his elder brother, both of them were still among the tallest people in the Hall. The young Prince had a rather muscular build, which would often make people underestimate his mental prowess, which was amongst the sharpest in the realm.
Yet she didn't miss how the ever-present smile on his face was now replaced with a rather worried look, a look mirrored on the face of her own brother and the rest of the Kingsguard who stood dutifully around the King.
"Something is wrong," a rather familiar voice from the side cut in, and she looked to the side and found her childhood friend, Elia, standing beside her, looking down with a nervous expression.
"You feel it as well?" she confirmed, and the olive-haired Princess of Dorne nodded.
"Yes, the King's state is worse than my expectation and gives credence to all the rumors about his erratic behaviors. Moreso, this is the first time since his return that he has called on his court like this. I don't know but I have an ominous feeling about this all," Elia added and she nodded.
"Me too. Last night, Arthur seemed troubled as well and had a massive argument with the Lord Commander over something important. I tried to ask him about what it was all about, but he refused to budge, and even now, all of the Kingsgaurd seem nervous," she said as she looked over the Seven who stood around the King.
And then the King stood up, his face contorting in pain as one of the sword ends cut him, making him grunt.
The whole court became quiet, as the King opened his mouth.
"I have gathered you all here to show you that your King stands tall!" the King roared, and the court cheered.
"Duskendale and its associated lords are now stripped of all their lands and titles. Let this be a lesson to all those who dare plot against the dragons, I shall serve them FFIRE AND BLOOD!" the King snarled, and for some reason she felt a foreboding in those worlds, as the King's eyes glinted manically.
"Yet the whole ordeal is not over yet. Not until we have caught the very person who was orchestrated this plot. The one who dared to move against their KING!" the King's voice rang out across the court room, halting the cheer as whispered began to break out.
"What shall we do with such a traitor?" the King questioned, and the Kings' lickspittles roared back.
"HANG HIM!" "BURN HIM!" "FIRE AND BLOOD!"
And a savage grin appeared on the King's face as he roared.
"GUARDS!" he shouted, and she watched as four of the Kingsgaurd stepped forward, as her heart thumped in her chest.
Half a dozen guards stepped forward as well, all of them armed and ready as the King's eyes gleamed over the whole court, with many a lord shrinking on themselves as the gaze would land on them, sighing in relief as it would pass over them.
It continued until it stopped, and she drew in a cold breath as her body got drowned in dread and realized just who the King was looking at.
"ARREST HIM!" the King roared as he pointed towards the person standing at the head of the court, someone who shared not just his looks but his blood as well.
"Arrest my son, Daemon Targaryen for the crime of plotting against his own kin and KING!" the King finished and felt her legs grow weak as the gold cloaks and the Kingsgaurd surrounded Daemon.
"NO!" she managed to eke out weakly as she felt Elia's arms wrap themselves around her.
"Ashara!" she said, yet she could barely process anything that went around her as she watched the Kingsgaurd strip Daemon of his blade as they forced him to his knees and bound his arms.
"No! No, his innocent Elia, he didn't do it. He didn't," she spoke up, weakly, yet her voice was drowned out by the massive commotion that now erupted from the court as the King's second son was dragged away from the court by none other than her own brother.
.
.
.
"He is innocent, Arthur!" she implored her brother as he stood opposite to her his eyes glues to the ground, his head hanging down in shame as she implored him.
"The King believes that he was behind the whole plot in Duskendale," he said weakly, not believing his own words.
"That's a lie.!" She nearly screamed as Elia held her, looking worriedly at her.
"She is right. Daemon was the first who opposed the King's decision to go to Duskendale himself, and he offered to go himself. Even when the King was captured, he was the loudest voice in the Council advocating for quick action, unlike Lord Hand and Prince Rhaegar, who wished to take a rather cautious approach," Elia cut in from the side, and she nodded.
"Yes, please, you have to convince King of his innocence. Daemon had no part in this. He is innocent," she pleaded, and the way Arthur's head hung down at her words was answer enough.
"We tried," he answered in a broken tone, and she looked up and saw him unable to raise his head as he continued in a saddened tone.
"We all did, yet the King was adamant and refused to budge, he believes that it was Prince Daemon behind the plot at Duskendale, and that's it," after he looked up at her and their eyes met, their colors a bit lighter than the Targaryen purple and the way he looked at her, broke her heart.
"I am sorry, Ashara, there isn't anything I can do," and she gasped at those words as tears began to drip down her face, and she lost the strength in her legs and collapsed onto the bed, her chest heaving as the implication behind those words dawned on her.
"You mean to say that the King is already convinced of his guilt, then what of the trial tomorrow? Why are we having a sham trial then?" Elia questioned from the side, her tone worried as well for their friend.
She looked up at Arthur once more and saw his face filled with shame as he hesitated to continue.
"The Prince knew that he would get no justice from his father, and so he made his decision and called for a…"
"…Trial of Combat!" she finished as it all clicked together. And as the words left her mouth, it all clicked together, as she realized just why Arthur was fighting with the Lord Commander last night.
"And the King has nominated you to fight against him," she added and saw Elia's eyes widen by he side as well as her head snapped towards Arthur.
"No!" Elia gasped, yet the way Arthur's fists balled up, and his face contorted was answer enough.
It made sense as well, for while the White Bull may be the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the whole realm knew that none could match the Sword of the Morning. Not even the gifted Prince Daemon.
"No! You cannot do this, Arthur! You cannot," she pleaded despite knowing his answer already.
"I have no choice Ashara," he said his fists balled up his voice shaky as he looked her in the eye.
"Seven as my witness! I have no choice," he said, and she felt her heart break into a thousand pieces as her whole world came crashing down.
How could she do this? How could the Gods be so cruel?
She would have to watch the two people she cared the most for in this world fight against each other. Fight for their lives. Her own brother against her lover.
Her mind was a mess as she refused to believe just what her life had come to. Just how quickly it had all come crashing down.
All three of them sat in silence, their thoughts a mangled mess as none knew what to do.
In the end, it was she who broke the silence as she talked to her brother.
"I wish to see him," she requested as she wiped away her tears. And just as Arthur shook his head.
"The King has forbid…."
"Arthur," she cut in before he could finish, her voice barely a whisper as she looked him in the eye.
"I beg you. For any love you ever bore me, just let me see him. I beg you," she said as she looked him in the eye. She saw his eyes soften as he nodded slowly.
"I will see what I can do," he said as he gave her a nod and made his way out of the room. As he was about to close the door, she added,
"And I want you to forgive me as well, Arthur…" she added and saw him look towards her with a frown as she continued.
"…you may be my brother, but I won't pray for you," she said with a cracking voice as her vision blurred up, and she saw his face shift before he gave her a small nod.
"I know." He replied, and with a soft nod, he closed the door behind her and left her alone with Elia.
She looked towards her best friend, the only person in the entire who could perhaps realize just what she was going through. Elia's eyes were reddened as well, and the olive-haired Princess of Dorne cupped her face and whispered.
"I am so sorry, Ashara," she said with a raspy voice, and she felt the dam break as she began to cry and tears dripped down her face.
"Eliaaaa! How could this happen? How!" she questioned and cried like a petulant child, and her best friend could do nothing but hold her in her arms and try to comfort her.
.
.
.
.
.
Arthur led her down the narrow corridors of the infamous Black cells of the Red Keep as they quietly made their way towards the cell in which the love of her life was imprisoned as her heart thumped in her chest.
In the end he came to a stop at the gate of a rather small cell, with two guards standing guard outside. She saw him pass two pouches of gold to them as they opened the door and he turned to face her.
"Be careful," Arthur said in a soft tone, making her frown as he continued.
"The guards said that he was…" and he didn't need to finish as she realized the implication.
She gulped down as she moved past him, hardening her heart as she walked inside the cell. It was dirty, the floor filled with puddles of what seemed to be water, blood, and human excreta. It reeked enough to make her spill out her guts, yet she walked in, the light of a single torch illuminating the small room as her eyes landed on the person she had come to meet.
"Seven!" she gasped as she saw the state he was in, as he sat there in the corner, in a puddle of blood. His chest and back were marred by scars that still looked fresh.
"Daemon!" she gasped out as she rushed towards him, her hands shaking as she saw him open his eyes.
His breaths were uneven, and she didn't miss how even the whites of his eyes were as red as their eyes.
"Is..th..is…a dr…am?" he managed to gasp out between broken breaths, and his parched throat made his tone raspy.
"No, no. This is not a dream. It's me, Ashara," she replied as she held his hands. They were cold as ice and shudder ran through her as he slowly lifted them to his face.
"What are you doing here?" he questioned with a cough or two, and she reached for her belt and took out the small waterskin she had brought and brought it to his lips.
"Drink," she put it to his lips and helped him take a sip of the water, and the way he drank it told her that he hadn't drunk anything since the morning.
The more she looked at him, the more her heart gave out. She couldn't imagine the level of cruelty of the King for doing this to his own son.
Facing Arthur was a nightmare in and of itself, for she, of all people, knew just how good he was with a blade. Yet, facing him in this condition was just suicide.
His eyes hadn't left her face in all the time, as he continued to stare at her, as he questioned her.
"Why did you come here, Ashara?" he questioned once more, and she put her lip on as she squeezed his hand.
"I came to see you," she replied and saw him smile as he brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear as he added.
"If my father learns of this, he will have your head," he said worriedly, and it shattered her heart that even in his current state, he was worried about her.
"It is not my head you should be worried about," she replied as she wiped away the blood and dirt from his face.
Yet he didn't reply to her as he continued to glance at her, a sense of loss and hunger in his eyes as he seemed to savor this moment with her, much like herself.
"You shouldn't have come here," he said after some moments of silence, and she gulped down as she looked him in the eye.
"Even the Gods wouldn't have been able to stop me," she replied as she cupped his face, trying to memorize his features.
"Why? Why is he doing this?" she questioned and saw his eyes light up at her words as he ground his teeth.
"I don't know…" he said as he swiped back a bang, pushing it gently behind her ear as he spoke up.
"…but I don't believe the reason matters anymore. He has made up his mind. And he won't stop until he has had me burnt," and she stilled at those words, for they all knew of what the King's favorite method of execution was.
Yet she hardened her heart as she spoke up.
"It's not over yet. The Trial of Combat is tomorrow. You could call a champion," she said, and a broken smile appeared on his face as she shook his head.
"The High Septon even wished to strip me of this right. I am not allowed a champion. I must take the field myself," he uttered, and a shudder passed through her at those words.
"Daemon!" she gasped as her mind raced. She had to do something. If he was allowed a champion she could have helped him, her beauty enough to beguile any man to step into the ring. She would give up anything for him.
Anything.
"You could run, try and escape, and I could bribe the guards. Beguile them, buy you enough ti…."
"NO!" his voice cut in, this time much stronger and faster than before.
"This is it, my little purple jewel," he used the nickname he had coined for her as tears slipped down his eyes.
"My fate is sealed," he finished, and she shook her head as her breath hitched.
"No! No, I refuse to believe it. There has to be something. Anything!" she implored, but he shook his head as he wiped away her tears.
"There is not, so go. Go back to your room. If my father finds out about this, he will show you no mercy," he pleaded as he looked down.
"I would much rather lose my life than live without you," she said, and a broken smile appeared on his face as the purple of his eyes sparked in his tears.
"No, my dear jewel. You can't. You have a family, people who care about you, people who love you, and you must not give up. You must live, not just for yourself, but for me as well…." He said his cruel words cut through her as he continued after a sniff.
"…so I want you to live. Live a long and beautiful life, one which you could tell me all about after we meet in the world beyond," he finished, and she shook her head as she cupped her face.
"Please, I beg you…." She continued.
"Don't do this to me," she said, and he held her hands as he whispered to her.
"Go," he said as he pointed towards the door, and she sniffed as she looked him in the eye. Then, with all her strength and willpower, she leaned forward and put her lips on his. A small shudder ran through her as the cold from his body met with her heat, yet she didn't let go as she pulled him in closer and hungered after him. Both of them remained joined for what seemed to be an eternity and separated only when a knock on the door interrupted them.
"Ashara! We need to go," Arthur's voice cut in, and they separated, both of them hungry for much more as she tried to memorize his very face, devouring its every detail as he closed his eyes and pointed towards the door.
"Go," he whispered again, and with a heavy heart, she stood up once more. Every step weighed a mountain as she slowly reached for the door, sliding it open with a trembling hand.
And as it was halfway open, his voice cut in once more.
"And Ashara," he called for her, making her look back towards him once more as he continued.
"…I ask you not to pray for me tomorrow…." he uttered, and his words made her still.
"….for no sister shall ever have to pray for her brother's death."
And with a heavy heart and dripping tears, she nodded as she walked out of the room; Arthur stood outside with a worried gaze.
"Let's go," he said, and with a final nod to the guards, they began to make their way out of the Black cells as she slowly trotted behind her brother.
There was no need for any words between them, and in a daze, they reached her room. And she couldn't bring herself to enter the room.
And so, as Arthur was about to leave, she called for him once more.
"Arthur," she called, and her brother stopped at her words and turned to face her.
"What?" he questioned.
"I want to go home," she replied, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could think, making his eyes widen for a moment before he nodded.
"Right now?" he questioned, and she nodded.
"Yes, tonight," she replied, and there was silence between them before he nodded.
"I will make preparations."
.
.
.
.
On the next morning, a trial would be held in the Red Keep, a sham trial, and the accused Prince of the realm would call for a Trial of Combat.
The Crown would nominate none other than Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, the Greatest Knight of the realm, against a much younger Prince Daemon. The duel would be brutal and would last for an hour with two knights would give it their all, yet in the end, the sword of the morning would emerge victorious, and just as the wielder of Dawn was about to bring the duel to its end, with a swift slash at the Prince's neck.
He would be stopped. At the command of none other than the King.
And while few expected that the King would take mercy on his son, they couldn't be more wrong.
A massive barrel of wildfire would be brought to the court, the flames from it reaching the ceiling of the Red Keep, and then, under the cheer of the King himself, his own blood's body would be thrown into the raging flames.
The screams from that burning are said to have shaken the very foundation of the Red Keep. Many people would shed tears for the departed Prince, for the younger Prince was dear to many. The Queen would be inconsolable by the loss of her son and the manner of his death and would try to take her own life yet would be unsuccessful.
The Lady Ashara of House Dayne would depart the capital before the trial, reach Starfall a moon later, and never step foot out of her room ever again, not even for the marriage of Princess Elia and Prince Rhaegar.
The barrel would be wheeled to one of the many caverns of the Red Keep, its surface so hot that none would dare touch it, dare to search for what remained of the Prince.
Though if they had. They would have been surprised. For deep into the night, as the whole Red Keep slumbered, a hand would reach for the edge of the barrel, its skin torn and blistering as a man whom many thought dead would drag himself out of the barrel. He would be approached by another person, one clad in a red robe with a bejeweled collar with a glimmering red stone around her neck.
And would mouth a single word.
"Azor Azhai!"
0000
As always, you can read ahead and support me by becoming a Patron. Your support helps me write these stories. So, if possible, have a look and consider supporting me, if you can. It would help me out quite a lot.
www.Patreon.com/Drkest
A/N: My second foray into the world of Game of Thrones. An interesting idea for a fic that was inspired by King Baldwin IV, the Leper King. This is going to be rather unconventional. I hope you enjoy it.
Tell me your thoughts down below.
