Winter's Fire → Game of Thrones

xviii. Kings Landing

Daemon Baratheon

Blood dripped off my sword and rolled down the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor. It was bright red and fresh from a man's chest. The chest of one of my own supposed guards' actually.

People had started screaming as the short-lived fight begun. It had turned to yelling for people to keep back as I drew my sword and defended myself. Now it was silent. No one was saying a thing as three members of the Kingsguard marched up the steps to come and drag me back to the Red Keep. The smallfolk were too afraid to even make a sound.

Ser Mandon Moore, Ser Preston Greenfield, and Ser Boros Blount all came over to me. Mandon and Preston grabbed my arms whilst Boros walked in front of us, commanding anyone who got in our way to move. I felt like a prisoner, but there is no way I will be locked in a cell. I am much too important for that.

As I was dragged through the streets, I just laughed and smiled. Robert is not back yet and so that means I will just be sent to my chambers for a few hours. I am Robert's nephew and have been named crown prince until Joffrey comes of age. It was the only way Robert could think to honour my father.

Once I reached the Red Keep, I noticed servants running around and leading people to their rooms. Robert must be back today then. He was not due back until tomorrow, but it makes no difference. He will just give me a talking to and then send me on his way. Unless, of course, Eddard Stark is there. Then he will feel the need to punish me.

Robert left to ask Lord Eddard Stark to be Hand of the King. Eddard and Robert are childhood friends and the previous hand, Lord Jon Arryn, took them in as wards when they were both boys. I assume they became incredibly close whilst up in the Eyrie. I imagine there is not a lot of people there, especially ones willing to talk to two young boys.

I was dragged into the Great Hall, where the Small Council was waiting for me - Robert and Lord Stark included. I gave everyone a smirk as I walked through, ignoring the tapestries and even the people I was going to talk to. My main focus was on the monstrosity of a throne that people are so desperate for.

To say that I don't want to be king would be a lie. I could not name a main who has not dreamed of that kind of power. The thing I do not want is having people try to kill me. There is enough people who want me dead already. I see no need to add to that list.

"Daemon!" Robert snapped, his fat face going red already. "I am back not even two hours and I hear that you have killed people on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor! What is the meaning of this?!"

"They were going to kill me, so I killed them first," I stated. "My own guards, too. Instead of yelling at me perhaps you should yell at the Spider for not knowing I was at risk of being murdered." I turned to Varys and gave him a cold smile. "It is your job to know of plans such as these, is it not?"

Robert, who is my uncle, is an incredibly fat man who only drinks, eats, and whores. Occasionally he hunts, but I am not sure how. One day he is going to be too fat to move in time and a boar is going to thrust its tusks into him and kill him. He was once tall, muscular and handsome, but now his blue eyes seem too small for his fat face, and his black beard that matches the rest of his hair hides his multiple chins. He is quite disgusting to look at.

Then there is the Small Council. The Spider, who is also known as Varys, is a bald eunuch and the Master of Whisperers. He is also quite plump and feminine seeming. His face is powdered and he reeks of lilacs, of which is the colour of his silk robes today. He is from Lys, but that is all I really know about him.

Grand Maester Pycelle, who, as his title tells you, is the Grand Maester, is some old man who surely should be dead by now. He is balding and has a long, grey beard. He probably wishes some of that hair could go back to his head. Unlike the grey robes he is meant to wear, he wears velvet robes with gold fastenings. It does not match his link of two dozen chains.