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dontforgetoctober3rd · 1 year ago

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Life Eternal (Chapter 3)

This is an HOTD fanfic based off *another* fanfic, Second Sons by @avengingangelfanfic (I highly recommend reading their amazing fic first! )

Read the beginning of Life Eternal here : Prologue , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2

Rating: M (graphic depictions of violence, mentions of depression, death, depictions of war)

Word Count: 3600

Summary: Set 44 years after the initial events of Second Sons, Daemon Targaryen, son of Aemond and Lyanna, struggles to find his way due to his parents' fame. Who will he go to in order to solve this problem?

Disclaimer: The events in this fic are NOT canon to the canon events of AvengingAngel's story! It was just an idea bouncing around and I asked for permission, which was graciously given (thank youuuu), to put it in words. Gif credits for any gifs used will be in the images themselves. With that in mind, thank you for reading.

[18 YEARS AGO]

The war had not been very long, only about half a year, but the losses were devastating.

Most of it had been fending off raider parties and executing spies while amassing the necessary soldiers to match the Dothraki army’s numbers. Khal Drogo’s advisors had estimated it would take the new King on the Iron Throne over a year to persuade his subjects to form a force as formidable as he had, and so victory had all but been guaranteed to him. It had only taken the King Jacaerys a little over a month to gather a force of 400,000 to match Drogo’s 450,000.

A witch who had fled to King Jacaery’s side, her two children in tow, had provided a way for the Northern armies of Lord Cregan Stark to arrive in time: a magic portal that they would arrive with, but not return (whatever remained of them after would have to go back home on foot). Khal Drogo had his advisors executed.

King Jacaerys had appealed to the people not only as their ruler, but as a man. “I want what any man and woman in my kingdom would: to avenge my mother and stepfather, to protect my children and to live free of the cruel yoke of slavery.” It had stirred the people, to know that their King considered slavery a threat to even himself, having dragons and all. Many lamented they had to stay where they were, unable to do any “real fighting”.

“No.” King Jacaerys had said firmly. “We need you just as much as the most fearsome berserker on the battlefield. We need our fields tended, our animals cared for. We need a home to come back to.”

He had repeated the same words he spoke in the giant, majestic Dragonpit of King’s Landing in every village he and Baela flew to. Eschewing the large cities where the great houses resided (sending family members on dragonback to them instead), they had descended upon the surrounding farming villages and tiny trading hamlets. Many a tavern owner had been honored to host them, stories of such things sure to be passed down their families in the years to come, how they had once fed Jacaerys the Defender and Brave Baela a pint of ale with a meat pie.

To deal with this threat to his kingdom, Jacaerys favored a more direct type of approach: take out the leader in an attempt to splinter his army. Many failed assassinations followed, the bloodriders’ numbers dwindling down to a mere four, but Khal Drogo himself evaded the Stranger and arrived on Westeros. Swimming giants made landfall first, and the first fight of the war began, occupying the dragonriders in a section of land away from where Khal Drogo then flooded the shores with his screamers and elephants for a couple of months.

Khal Drogo had planned a sort of pincer attack, but Prince Aemond had relayed this information to the King in time via his own planted spies. Half of the enemy forces had been waiting in Essos to set sail so they might arrive a few days after a planned battle with all of the Dothraki army together, to replenish the ones who were the first wave arriving on Westeros, in an effort to exhaust King Jacaery’s assembled army with a sustained attack.

Princess Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was, fell first. She had been tasked with leading the initial assault on the elephant hordes in the first enemy arrival on Westerosi lands and managed to take out most of the scorpions and catapults before being blindsided by a flying wizard’s blast. King Jacaerys and Queen Baela had still been occupied in dealing with the giants a ways away.

Prince Aegon the elder and Crown Prince Aemon had been with Rhaenys.

They finished the job she had started, Aegon’s twins following their lead on their own dragons, bathing what remained of the elephant army in a blinding wall of fire. The wizard who had killed Rhaenys had attempted to blast Jahaerys as well, only to be stopped by Aegon the Elder’s sword flying through the air and impaling itself through his throat. Prince Aegon had launched it like a javelin using momentum from his dragon Sunfyre, stopping the assailant midair and sending him careening to the ground. A long ribbon of blood had escaped from the body as it fell. Prince Daeron’s dragon, Tessarion, had just arrived and snatched another wizard who had sprung into the air behind Aegon, a blast already sizzling in his hand and aimed at him. Prince Aemon’s dragon had latched onto the unfortunate man at the same time, the two dragons ripping him apart with ease, splattering their riders with the entrails and blood. The group had then allowed themselves a small moment of joy, cheering and laughing with relief at Aegon II’s close brush with death.

Oversees, Prince Aemond and Princess Lyanna rained hellfire upon the remaining forces that were waiting to set sail, focusing on taking out the remaining giants and elephants. Queen Rhaenyra’s four children by Daemon (Aegon The Younger, Viserys, Visenya and Aemma) gladly helped with their own dragons. Prince Lucerys and Princess Rhaena provided air support to the thousands of slaves that defected to the assisting forces of Braavos and Pentos. Prince Joffrey and Prince Valerion ambushed the last of the enemy soldiers attempting to flee. It was a quick battle, but losses still came.

Gendry, Princess Lyanna’s much loved sworn shield, died on the ground along with hundreds of foot soldiers. Prince Lucerys lost a leg, but kept his life. Lord Rickon Tully fell, along with both Cargyll brothers. It was not a happy trip back to Westeros to rejoin the rest of King Jacaery’s army.

Back in Westeros, the dragonriders could only do so much after the first battle without risking killing their own people also. Defending from the ground was also not an area that Khal Drogo expected much of a fight in but a fight is what he got as he tried to converge his massive horde into one area. Prince Doran of Dorne and Lord Royce Baratheon of Storm’s End commanded the ground forces. Men and women numbering in the hundreds of thousands spread out over the Crownlands to fight for their King and defend their homes. The efforts of Rhaenys were not in vain, having no catapults or spear launchers of any sort to use themselves, Drogo’s land army struggled mightily.

The soldiers of King Jacaerys' took every opportunity they could to weaken Drogo's forces. Flaming walls of bagged up livestock feces were used to suffocate sleeping enemy camps. Enemy battalions making their way to the location of battle through the Kingswood were ambushed constantly.

Over and over, the Dothraki were baited and chipped away at, until the day of the final battle.

Lord Corlys handled the enemy on the ocean, making short work of Drogo’s shoddy fleet of mercenaries and inexperienced Dothraki sailors. They had thought to keep their supplies off land in order to better protect them, but House Velaryon decimated them. There had been moment where the Velaryon fleet seemed to have reached a wall of ships, but soon all hope disappeared for the opposing side: on the horizon, roaring and spewing huge plumes of flames, were Caraxes and Syrax flying towards them. It was a short fight and Lord Corlys had his revenge for Princess Rhaenys, whose dragon he had seen fall from the sky in the distance those first few days of the war.

Back on land, no terms were offered on either side. The armies had at last come together in a sea of soldiers across from each other.

Villagers had long since fled the area, under protection of the rest of the Dragon Blade’s daughters, Lady Alicent Tully leading them away.

The carnage immediately began on the fields and went on through the night.

Several times, Royce Baratheon maneuvered his men to corral the Dothraki into spots the dragons could target with ease. His wife Catelyn would then burn them to a crisp on her dragon Alduin.

Lord Cregan Stark with his men did the same for King Jacaerys on Vermax, Prince Doran’s soldiers repeating the method for Queen Baela on Moondancer.

A smaller faction of Khal Drogo’s army had thought to steal away towards King’s Landing, planning to loot the city and then flee back to Essos.

Prince Maelor and Princess Helaena, tasked with defending the city, met them on their dragons. Scores of Dornish archers pelted the Dothraki continuously with arrows from all over the walls, many smallfolk stationed beside them spraying those who came close with boiling hot oil. After a time, Maelor came back to the Red Keep victorious. Helaena had flown off to join her husband in the final fight.

The turning point in the battle came with the arrival of Prince Aemond and the rest of the dragonriders who had gone to Essos to do away with the threat of a second wave.

It seemed since they saw the cause was lost, Khal Drogo’s army (what was left of it) fought even more fiercely. They knew they were all to die and were intent on taking as many as they could with them.

As morning came, the battle slowed and came to a full stop when King Jacaerys rode his dragon into a skirmish, quickly dismounting and slowly raised the head of Khal Drogo himself to what was left of the Dothraki army. They tried to flee. Vermax burned them from the ground where he stood by Jacaerys, with Moondancer showering them in fire from above as she flew by, Queen Baela yelling enthusiastically.

Victory had come, but at a grievous cost. Catelyn Baratheon had been wounded, seemingly mortally so. In his desperation, Lord Royce had taken her unconscious body and declared he would take her to better maesters in King’s Landing. To everyone’s shock, Catelyn’s fearsome beast Alduin let Royce mount him. He shot to the sky and flew so swiftly many wondered if they had really seen it happen.

Many of Prince Doran’s family had fallen in the battle. He had only his wife, children and one sister left. Lord Cregan and his lady wife had also fallen in battle. So many great houses now had new, younger Lords and Ladies stepping up to take charge.

The most heart wrenching loss of all had yet to be widely known, many dismissing the rumors flying around. In a secluded group of tents, Prince Aegon the Elder was holding the hand of Prince Aemond, who was fading fast. Aemond held onto the hand of Princess Lyanna beside him, who was too injured to speak but kept her eyes upon Aemond.

Aemond looked into her eyes as well, speaking to Aegon the entire time. Aegon took no issue with this, they were saying goodbye after all. Let their final memory be of each other.

“Our boy, Aegon…our son..please..!”

“You do not even have to say it, brother!” Aegon spoke angrily, tears flowing freely.“Helaena and I will look after Daemon.”

Aemond began to cry as Lyanna suddenly lay stiff. She was gone from this world. At least she had heard Aegon promise…hadn’t she?

“Aegon, please..love him-” Aemond gasped. He was pale and sweaty, bloodfever having long since set in. His skin was the same ghostly shade as his hair, no color left in his lips.

“Like I said, Helaena and I will care for him.” Aegon promised fiercely, clutching his brother’s limp hand to his chest. He had noticed Lyanna and knew Aemond was not far behind in following her. His chest felt like it was on fire with the grief but he had to get the words out before it was too late. “Of course we will! He is our blood, born of the little brother and good sister who we love with all our hearts, love more than anything. He will never suffer what you both suffered in childhood! We will tell him of you both, we will teach him the sword! We will drag him to the library, to your favorite reading spots, to the very place where you asked for Lyanna’s hand! We will-” Aegon suddenly went silent, looking at what used to be his brother and Lyanna. They were no more. Aegon screamed and screamed until Heleana came running, and then she too joined in the screaming. The next tent over, King Jacaerys and Queen Baela were being tended to. Jacaerys looked to Baela, their faces shattering with the realization upon hearing the horrible wailing. Circling above the sky, Vhagar and Skydancer roared in agony.

[18 YEARS AGO, A FEW MONTHS AFTER THE WAR]

“He is here, my Lord.”

“Make ready the chambers. I can’t see him staying the night, but the gods might gift us another lovely storm and I’d rather not have our new king calling for my head for sending his uncle home in such weather. Inform the cooks to butcher a lamb.”

Lord Royce Baratheon looked at the scene outside his walls. Prince Aegon the Elder, calming Sunfyre, greeting the guards who came up to him and then making his way towards the castle.

Royce reflected about the war while he left the balcony and went to the nursery to wait for Aegon…

The entire kingdom was just pulling themselves from the ashes of the Great War against Khal Drogo’s army, rebuilding their homes and healing their wounds. Catelyn had not been the same since learning of her parents’ deaths. Everyday, she wasted away in their chambers, eating only when Royce fed her himself. The maester had informed them both she would never carry another child again. Her sisters visited in turns, but rarely so. Their own families needed them.

Little Daemon would not stop his sniffling, his older nephew Alphonse his only comfort aside from nurses.

The children clung to Royce whenever he visited the nursery, crying all the while that they wanted their mother. Alphonse, in particular, had sensed something was very wrong. 6 years old, Lyanna herself had tasked him with protecting Daemon, a job he had taken very seriously. Everywhere the little lord-to-be went, he carried his uncle with him. He had kept asking his father these past months when Lyanna and Aemond would be back for Daemon and could he please go visit King’s Landing with him when they did. He wanted to keep teaching Daemon how to hold various practice weapons, he was showing promise with the sword and would surely know how to properly swing one by his second nameday.

He asked again today when his uncle’s parents would be back. It broke his heart, but Royce had to finally be straightforward with his eldest son.

“Do you remember our old hound? The one with a gimp leg?”

“Biscuithead! I miss him.” Alphonse had learned of death before the start of the war, thankfully though things that weren’t quite as violent and traumatic. He looked at his father expectantly, swaying his sleeping uncle in his arms from left to right. He looked far older than he should, bearing such a responsibility. Royce hated to be the one to be changing his son’s view of the world for the worse yet again, but it had to be done. He had shielded him from everything for far too long.

“Aemond and Lyanna have gone the way of the dog, my boy. They are dead. They will not be coming back. Not ever.”

Alphonse immediately teared up, worry in his whispery voice. The lad was still afraid of waking Daemon. “...but they are Daemon’s mother and father. How can a mother and father die?” Alphonse choked back a sob, trying to be brave but quickly spiraling into distress. At Royce’s nod, a nearby maid claimed a sleeping Daemon from Alphonse, spiriting him away to a different room in the nursery. “Father…are you going to die?! Is mother going to die?!”

Royce quickly embraced his crying son. “No, no, no…I am not dying, my sweet boy, I am not dying.”

“I don’t want you to die!”

“Hush, now! Your mother and I have many many years ahead of us. We are not dying.”

Royce looked to the doors opening, guards announcing Prince Aegon.

Alphonse had not even noticed, he was still sobbing, face buried in his father’s chest. Royce met the gaze of a very haggard and tired looking man. Aegon had come for little Daemon, finally. He had been told in the ravens he did not even need to ask it, but Aegon would keep his son safe as well, until Catelyn was well enough.

More than likely until Alphonse felt ready to leave, Royce thought. He did not see his son betraying a promise made to the Princess of Hearts.

[PRESENT DAY KING’S LANDING]

“Alphonse, come! Daemon has business he needs to see to without you hovering about.” Royce called, already mounted on his horse, ready to ride away with the rest of the remaining Lords in the keep to the hunting camp. His two other sons laughed at Alphonse, though not in a bad-natured way (Orys had been chosen to remain at Storm’s End with his dragon and so was not present).

Daemon smirked at Alphonse. “Go on, then, nephew. An honorable son always obeys his father.”

Alphonse scoffed as he mounted his own horse. “Hmph. As if you obey yours without question? Have you yet spoken with him?”

Daemon laughed. Others might take it to mean as a jest against his dead father, but he knew who Alphonse spoke of. “Never you mind. Off with you, and do not forget what we talked of a few days past.” he admonished. “You know what will happen if you do not take action.”

“Yes, yes…” Alphonse rode away smiling.

Daemon watched as the large party left the courtyard. It was the final group to leave to the hunting camp, before Aegon and Heleana made to arrive with the twins to get the celebrations going. They would leave tomorrow. A full day with them to himself, Daemon thought. He made a note to thank the King later, for surely it was his doing that the hosts themselves would be staying here for a whole day. Lady Alicent Tully was also staying behind. She had difficulty walking now, at her great age, and preferred to spend her days in the library or being wheeled around the paths in the Godswood.

A great deal had occurred upon his return from Storm’s End. Daenerys, for one, had been nowhere to be found. Helaena had informed him she had gone ahead to the site, to “help set up”.

To avoid my nephew, more like…Daemon had thought. No matter. He had persuaded (and slightly threatened) Alphonse to finally seek her hand. His mother’s dagger had been of some help.

“Present it to her as your betrothal gift. Do not make it seem like duty or an obligation. Tell her the choice is entirely in her hands, and mean it.” Alphonse had looked a bit panicked at this. “No, do not give me that look. When my father asked for my mother’s hand, he made it clear it was she who would be deciding if they would be wed. He didn’t even tell her that he was her potential betrothed until that was understood. No You must marry me! None of that.” His nephew had grumbled at the time, but now he was on his way at least he had seemed more agreeable and Daemon was satisfied with things.

To truly love someone, you had to be at peace with the idea that their happiness might not lie in being with you. It had been a tough tonic for Alphonse to swallow, but swallow it he did. Daenerys was the only one who held his heart, and he wanted her to be happy.

Daemon walked through the keep, steeling himself for what was coming next. He hadn’t been the easiest child to care for, but his aunt Helaena and uncle Aegon had managed. They both treated him well and reassured him they needed no apologies but he still felt extremely guilty. Every childhood tantrum had been met with punishment, but also gentle patience.

“I HATE YOU!!” he had screamed one day, just shy of 8. The dragon keepers had declared Paarthurnax large enough to ride and Daemon had wanted to fly immediately, wanting to visit Alphonse who had been on his yearly visit home for the harvest. Nevermind the fact that a saddle still needed to be made and fitted properly. Helaena had not allowed it. They had been breaking their fast and Daemon had thrown his pumpkin juice at her in response. The maids had frozen in horror, not sure what to do, but Aegon had sighed and simply dragged a screaming Daemon from the table by the wrist.

“I HATE YOU! Let me go! I HATE YOU!!” With each yell from Daemon, a curious face turned to look. Aegon nodded greetings to the stunned passersby, as if nothing was amiss.

“Yes, yes, you may hate me all you like, but do so from the nursery.” Aegon had said. “You are not to leave the area for the rest of today. Supper will be brought to you. This will be your punishment for what you have done. We do not throw things at others, especially our own kin, we use our words.”

Daemon had been sure an injustice had been done to him. “I’m not stupid! You won’t let me ride because you HATE ME. You and aunt Helaena HATE ME!!”

At this, Aegon had issued a vehement denial “We do not hate you and we never will. We both love you with all our hearts.”

“Then why can I not call you kepa and aunt Helaena muña?”

He still remembered how sad Aegon had looked when he had asked that. It had caught him completely off guard. Only now as a man did Daemon understand how much it probably tore at his uncle’s heart.

Stopping right before the library, he saw the doors were wide open, Ser Tommen standing guard right by. Daemon went in to speak with the two people who had raised him.

#Life Eternal Chapter 3 #lmaoooo what have i gotten my self into #fanfic based on fanfic #hotd fanfic #second sons by avengingangel #i really cannot stress this enough but my writing is nowhere near the caliber of AvengingAngel's so plz judge me kindly!#i'm begging #i'm trying to improve my writing #and by god if the only way to do it is by embarrassing myself on this hellsite then SO BE IT #I can't believe what this has evolved into tho #i think i've broken 10k words by now #ive never written 10k words for a single subject IN MY LIFE #but Second Sons really is that top tier #its so good it inspired me to do fanfic of it #you have to read it especially if you love soft Aemond fics where he lives happily ever after!#anyways here is my mess

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