[Chapter Size: 2400 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Winterfell.
...
...
In the training yard, Lord Stark looked at Daemon, though he could see a certain distrust in his eyes.
"Stand up, Lord Stark," Daemon said, and Lord Stark nodded, rising to his feet.
"You may greet your family. You'll have a place in the castle, but we'll talk in three days. I'll let you enjoy your time with your family, and then we'll discuss our problems and our differences once and for all. That's the most I'll do for you," Daemon announced in an indifferent tone.
Lord Stark ignored all the whispers around him and nodded. At least he would have some time with his family. And Daemon wasn't finished.
"But remember, Lord Stark, you are no longer the lord of Winterfell, much less sovereign of the northern realm. You are not to meddle in any affairs of the North until we have our conversation, in front of all the lords. Are we understood?" Daemon spoke in a firmer, more serious tone—there was no warmth in his voice, none of that of a nephew speaking to his uncle.
Lord Stark nodded once more, and Daemon said nothing else. He made no further introductions, merely raised his hand to the left, where the children stood.
"Lord Stark, you may now greet your family." Lord Stark could not hide the glimmer of sadness in his eyes as he went to where his children were, facing his eldest son and embracing him.
"Father..." Robb murmured, while Daemon found Lord Reed before him.
"Lord Reed, it's been a while since I've seen you," Daemon remarked, his tone softer than the one he had used with his own uncle.
"Your Majesty," Reed said, bowing. There was no doubt that most of the North now stood with Daemon.
"This is my betrothed, Daenerys Targaryen," Daemon introduced, and the lord of Greywater Watch lowered his head in respect.
"My lady, or should I say, future queen," he said respectfully.
"Lord Reed, it's a pleasure to meet you," Daenerys said with a friendly smile.
After that, Lord Reed went to see his two sons, while the next to introduce themselves were Lord Manderly and the representatives of the Iron Bank.
All knelt before Daemon, who also introduced his betrothed and future queen, making his intentions for the North clear, as well as his desire to end the prejudice against the daughter of the Mad King that still lingered among those who saw Daenerys for the first time. The North was stubborn by nature, but nothing Daemon couldn't handle. He himself had set examples for those who openly mocked her, placing them in difficult positions—and no one came to their aid.
The representatives of the Iron Bank greeted him without bowing, but with respect—after all, one could not expect them to submit to a foreign king.
"Good. Find places for our guests. We'll have our general meeting. We won't wait for any more men to arrive at Winterfell. As much as I'm still expecting the Skagosi men, we'll settle this now. We've waited long enough. In three days, all matters of the North will be addressed in the audience hall. Are we understood?" Daemon roared to the entire courtyard, and the people nodded, feeling the weight of his words.
-----
Things went back to routine after the quick meeting, for the rest of the day. Daemon organized some letters from the South, as he was receiving open support from several houses that wanted to ally themselves with House Targaryen, now active once more.
It was natural, considering the strength he had been amassing. The tales from the North had already spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms — about his armies, the conquest of the North, and his dragon. All of it was a great warning: if he ever declared himself King of the Seven Kingdoms, at some point, he would march south.
But Daemon had to pay close attention to those houses, for among them were many who had already bent the knee to the fat king in disgrace — true turncloaks, the same ones who had betrayed the Targaryens during the rebellion.
"Enter." Daemon spoke upon hearing the knock on the door.
The door opened at that moment, and Maester Wolkan approached Daemon with a book in his hands.
"Your Majesty, the book you requested arrived a few hours ago," said the maester, placing Maester Cressen's volume on the table.
"Thank you, maester."
The man bowed and left the solar. Daemon picked up the book — it wasn't a common or popular one. In fact, it was a record written by a maester who had been at Storm's End during the Tyrell siege in Robert's Rebellion. It told of what it was like to endure countless moons trapped inside the castle while starving.
Fifty thousand men from the Reach surrounded Storm's End, where there were only five hundred people defending the castle. Lord Stannis had been there at the time along with Renly, but Daemon wasn't interested in the Baratheons — he wanted to understand the mistakes the Tyrells had made.
Why and how had the Tyrells betrayed the Targaryens? After all, why had the entire army of the Reach, the largest in Westeros, remained besieging Storm's End while Prince Rhaegar fought at the Trident?
Had they sent their forces to aid Rhaegar, the battle would have been won by the Targaryens. The Tyrells had clearly been ordered to march north, but they betrayed the Targaryens — and for that, they too would have to be punished. Daemon would see to that in due time.
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Outside Daemon's solar, that same day, Lord Stark felt strange returning to his chambers after the evening meal. He had sat at the high table, yet it seemed he was not welcome there. He still sat beside his children, but not next to Daemon, as Daemon was at the opposite end of the table, the servants having asked Lord Stark to sit where he did by Daemon's order.
Arya looked cheerful — more cheerful than at any other moment in the past year — as she spoke with her brothers, but the northern lords kept their eyes fixed on them.
Most of Ned's former allies — those who had fought beside him in Robert's Rebellion, who had forged bonds on the battlefield as true friends — were no longer there. Either they were dead, or they had been captured in the South.
He ate in silence. He had spent the entire day talking with his children. Benjen seemed cautious; his brother looked at him with complicated eyes, full of thoughts and guilt. They spoke a little, but Benjen always seemed wary when speaking about Daemon. Perhaps he was too preoccupied with his own situation, or perhaps simply happy that Ned was alive — Lord Stark couldn't tell.
Either way, he was escorted to a chamber. Despite knowing what his fate would be, Daemon had granted him great freedom — not because he cared, but simply because he saw no danger in Ned Stark. Lord Stark didn't know if his nephew merely wanted to give him his last days with his children gathered or if he was openly mocking him.
Daemon didn't care about him. He hadn't even looked him in the face that first day and pretended Lord Stark didn't exist.
There was a set of clothes left for him. Ned dressed, lay down on the bed, and tried to sleep, wanting to forget the ghosts of the past and his mistakes.
But that night, it wouldn't happen.
"Ned... you promised. You promised you would take care of my son." The voice came in his dreams.
It struck him as though a knife had been driven into his heart. "Lya... Lyanna..." was all Ned managed to say, stunned, wondering if it was a dream as he heard only her voice.
"You promised, brother. You promised you would take care of him, that you would protect him. But no. You hurt him, treated him like a burden. You let him suffer. I trusted you! You promised me! Why, Ned?!" The voice roared in anger — the same youthful fury Ned Stark remembered from his sister when she died.
Lord Stark was terrified. He didn't know what was happening, but it seemed as if his sister had come to attack him in his dream. He didn't know whether it was truly her or some trick of Daemon — and, given everything Ned had seen Daemon do, he did not doubt he was capable of tormenting him with ghosts of the past.
That night, Lord Stark didn't sleep.
-------
"You look tired," Benjen said the next morning, studying his brother's face.
"I had a hard night... It was difficult to rest here," Ned said, still with heavy dark circles under his eyes and a weary glimmer. Benjen watched him closely but seemed to be searching for something else in the hall as he saw Daemon and Daenerys leaving, accompanied by the royal guards.
"What are they doing so early?" Ned asked.
"They always eat earlier than everyone else and leave first. Daemon always goes to pray beneath the Godswood, as far as I know," Benjen replied, hiding the fact that Lyanna was there — as a ghost.
She herself had said she would speak to her brother and that Benjen was not to say anything, at least for now. It had been more of an order than a request, and Benjen, though he saw only a teenage girl before him, still recognized her as his older sister — and remembered well how bossy she could be at times.
"I see..." was all Lord Stark said, as his children — at least Arya and Rickon — entered the hall to have their first meal. Hodor was still responsible for carrying Bran everywhere and brought him to the high table shortly after.
"Has our cousin left already?" Arya asked, looking at the empty main chairs.
"He just left, Arya," Benjen answered his niece.
"I heard rumors yesterday that Daemon has a sword that shines like the sun! They say he received it from the gods. Is that true, uncle?" she asked excitedly. "I also heard about ghosts! They say Lady Dustin is terrified in the dungeons."
At hearing that, Ned shuddered; he had also heard something about his sister's ghost haunting Lady Dustin. 'Could Daemon be punishing me before our duel?' he thought, believing Daemon was behind it.
"I've never seen it, but yes, they say it's real. Daemon himself confirmed it. As for the ghost, those are superstitions..." Benjen said, lying at the end, while the girl seemed delighted by the idea of a shining sword.
Perhaps she was the only one among them who, despite the Stark family's situation, could still smile with Rickon and Bran — happy to see nearly the whole family together again, without touching on the subject of their mother's death or Sansa, still trapped in King's Landing.
"You know, I met one of our cousin's women," Arya said to her brothers. "Her name's Val. I asked if she could train me, and she said she could teach me a few things!" she said cheerfully, while Lord Stark remained silent. He only wanted to speak with the son who would be responsible for the house after him.
It was clear his son had returned broken from the war; he could see it in his eyes and felt pity for him because of his own failures. Yet, little by little, Robb began to cheer up. From what Maege had said, Daemon intended to take Robb south, commanding part of his men. That would be the best chance to try to correct the mistakes of the past: Ned might not be beyond redemption, but even if Robb didn't have Daemon's love, he could at least build a relationship of respect between them.
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In the godswood, Daemon crossed his arms as he looked at his mother.
"Are you protecting him already, son?" Lyanna asked, her voice stubborn.
"I am this time," Daemon replied.
Lyanna huffed and turned her face away, yet her tone remained as stubborn as ever. "I'll visit him every day. Remind him that he didn't keep the promise he swore he would."
Daemon knew, at that moment, that he could not stop her from doing what she intended.
"Good. I would like him to be in perfect condition for the duel. I don't want to boast, but I don't want to fight a weary man — that's beneath me," Daemon said in a serious tone. "You may do as you wish these next few days, but I'll wait three more days before the duel to face him. I want you to stop tormenting him two days from now, since I'll decide what to do with him in front of all the northerners."
"Daemon, I feel anger toward him, I truly do, but I want to ask you something..." She stopped, her stubbornness fading for a moment, and seemed even worried. "Are you going to kill him?" Lyanna asked, concerned. Despite everything — and even though she hated Ned for what he had done — she still saw him as her older brother.
"I don't know yet. I'd rather not know. I'll give my final sentence when I face him," Daemon replied, certain he would win; dealing with Ned would be easy. The question was whether he should kill him or send him to the Wall.
Lyanna realized her son would not change his mind. "You still have two days to torment him or to speak with him. The choice is yours," he told her.
---------
The days went by as usual. Lord Stark had another dream of Lyanna during those nights, asking why he had treated her son that way. The sleepless nights bound him to the sins of his past and to his ghosts.
And on the night before his judgment, almost without strength, Ned awoke to a voice beside him.
"Ned, wake up. We need to talk," Lyanna said, and when Lord Stark opened his eyes, startled, he realized he was in his chamber this time — and it didn't seem to be a dream.
His eyes widened as he saw Lyanna there, in his room. Even though she appeared ghostly, her form half ethereal, he still recognized her.
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