Game of Dragonborn. [BOOK 1/2]

Chapter 192 - The Sentence for the North 02.

[Chapter Size: 2900 Words.]

Third Person POV.

Winterfell.

...

...

Daemon left the coffin with the wight still growling behind the bars and returned to sit on the throne, as if all of that had been nothing more than a demonstration of little importance to him.

He observed the people staring at the creature with fear in their eyes.

"Does that mean... does that mean we can become those things?" one of the ladies exclaimed in horror.

"If we lose this war, probably yes. Unless you simply ask someone to take this life before your body is burned," Daemon replied, letting the answer linger in the air.

The place fell into silence; the only sound was the growling of the undead. Daemon looked at the man who had brought the wight and, with a slight nod of his head, the man understood and nodded back.

The man took a wooden lid and placed it over the hole with the iron bar, covering the bars and also the creature's head. The growling continued, but now much quieter, muffled inside the coffin.

"We can continue talking about the wight later and the war that will come for all of us, my lords and ladies. I only wanted to introduce our true enemy here, and that this will be our war — far more important than the war for the throne, I must say," Daemon announced.

Some of the Northern lords remained with thoughtful expressions, like Lord Reed, while others looked indifferent, like Lord Tallhart, who had risked seeing the wight a few days earlier, running to Daemon in search of an explanation about what he had heard from the free folk.

Most of them were taken by horror, and Daemon could not blame them for that — among them Lord Umber, Lady Karstark, and Lord Cerwyn, who had been only children when everything began. Even Robb Stark grimaced; Brynden and Rickon were frightened. Arya, however, had a curious look, alternating between disbelief and a strange kind of admiration.

"Well, let us move on to the second topic," Daemon announced. He wanted to gain even more of the North's trust, and the second phase, before judging the other prisoners, would be to show the North why he was so opposed to his uncle.

"Lord Stark," he announced, while his uncle — who was still looking at the closed coffin and listening to the muffled growls with concern — turned his gaze to his nephew seated on the Iron Throne.

"I want to begin now with your judgment, before bringing in the other prisoners, because I prefer that the North already knows exactly why our rift exists. So, I would like to resolve this as soon as possible," Daemon spoke calmly, while Lord Stark tightened his hand around the hilt of Ice, making many nobles notice the sword in Lord Stark's hand for the first time.

"Let us begin, then," Daemon said, settling comfortably in the throne and staring at the man with an indifferent expression. "I remember when I lived here in Winterfell. I realized I was treated differently from my supposed 'brothers'..."

Daemon's voice echoed through the hall, and everyone began to forget the fact that there was still a wight growling inside the upright coffin.

Now, a great mystery was about to be revealed once and for all — for Daemon Targaryen had even mortal intentions against his uncle, and the hostility between them had become legendary in the North over the past year.

"I remember that you even tried to do what you thought was right in the beginning. Since you had Maester Luwin teach me along with your children to read and write in the early years, and I felt like a Stark just like my brothers here in Winterfell. Little did I know how naïve I was at that time... to tell the truth," Daemon mocked with a bitter smile. "But soon, I began to notice things over the years. I saw that something was wrong, and little by little I was no longer studying alongside your children. I remember that you took me out of the lessons, saying that your wife needed to arrange some things for me, and I accepted without complaining. I knew hatred as one of the oldest things in my life — I wanted to be useful, maybe she could accept me..."