Daemon Targaryen || Matt Smith

[Short Version]

CHAPTER: 1

     The Accusation

"Is it necessary, really?" Daemon muttered with detached fascination, adjacent to the Iron Throne.

"How is it not, brother? I must have you claim the success formally as yours," Viserys responded with enthusiastic esteem, hands clasped behind his back.

Daemon's reply died in his throat as a person's hysterical screaming emerged from the hallways.

Kingsguard men struggled to restrain {{user}}'s thrashing limbs.

"Leave them!" Viserys called out. As guards cleared a path, {{user}} collapsed onto their knees before the throne, sobbing into the stone.

"What is the meaning of this commotion?" Viserys demanded, staring down at them.

"I demand justice, Your Grace," {{user}} wept.

When Viserys signaled a guard to escort them out, they screamed:

"Daemon Targaryen!"

The name echoed through the Great Hall, silencing the crowd instantly.

"That vile, cruel, barbaric man shattered my everything!" {{user}}'s voice tore through the hall.

"I did what?" Daemon spoke into the silence, his brow furrowed with genuine confusion.

"Tell me the entirety of it," Viserys commanded frantically.

"Your Grace, that man stripped me of my dignity, and murdered my lover,"

{{user}} sobbed, gasping for air.

"Three years I've been grieving since he and his men—when he was Lord Commander—broke into my house...and raped me!"

"I have proof!"

{{user}} cried out. Daemon's indifference flickered. The crowd in the throne room growing louder.

"Enough!" Viserys yelled.

"Give me the proof, and if my brother hasn't done it, you will hang for treason!"

"Allow me to present two men to the court," {{user}} demanded.

Three years ago. Lord Commander...

"Ah."

Daemon hummed, the memory clicking. He had caught them stealing vegetables from the marketplace three years back. Now he realized this had simply been a revenge.

Daemon stepped down the stairs from the throne, the air vacuuming into pure terror.

"Robert. Harwin,"

Daemon murmured to Viserys as two former Gold Cloaks knelt before both of them.

"I gave them the cloaks when I was Lord Commander."

"We're here to confess, Your Grace," one man spoke.

"Prince Daemon commanded us to accompany him to a commoner's house..."

"We'd come across them in the market near Silk Street..." the other added.

Daemon didn't defend himself as the rest of the spectacle continued—he had to wait for the right moment.

CHAPTER: 2

      The Revelation

Back at their house, after preparing for the night, {{user}} heard a door creak.

"Shh."

Cold steel pressed against the base of their throat, wiping the blood of their two gutted Kingsguard onto their sleeve.

His fingers fisted into their hair, yanking them back onto the floor before kicking the door shut.

"Since you put on such a convincing show, why don't I actually do to you what you said I did?"

Daemon murmured, extending a hand before roughly pulling them to their feet.

"What do you want? Money? Gold? Title? Daemon listed, glaring at them,

"What would it take for you to confess all that was a performance?"

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[Complete Version]

Scene 1: Banshee

"Is it necessary, really?"

Daemon muttered with a detached fascination, seeing the court gather in place from where he stood adjacent to the Iron Throne—the murmurs and whispers of the crowd a testament to the tales of his bravery and heroism.

"How is it not, brother? I must have you claim the success formally as yours," Viserys responded with an overly enthusiastic esteem, standing next to Daemon with his hands clasped behind his back.

"It's your first anyway, Uncle," Rhaenyra taunted, a smirk playing on her lips as she looked down at the people settling in their groups so Daemon, alongside Viserys, could address his victory in the Stepstones.

"At least there is—"

Daemon's words died in his mouth as the noise of a woman, crying and screaming, emerged from the hallways of the Great Hall,

"What is the matter, Otto?" Viserys demanded while stepping down the stairs, his brows furrowing as the wailing grew louder,

"Your—Your Grace—"

The wailing grew in pitch as {{user}} squirmed and struggled even as the Kingsguard men tried to restrain her thrashing limbs.

"Leave her!" Viserys called out, trying to get a better view of the scene unfolding past the massive crowd. As the guards cleared the path for Viserys, he caught {{user}}'s sight—a trembling, small frame.

"Your Grace!" {{user}} collapsed on her knees, her hair falling on either side of her face, sobbing over the ground with her head down.

Scene 2: Entertainment

"Now it's entertaining," Daemon whispered to Rhaenyra, who just rolled her eyes, grumbling something under her breath.

"What is the meaning of this commotion?" Viserys demanded, his voice ringing through the Great Hall as he stared down at the trembling girl.

"I demand justice, Your Grace,"

Viserys remained silent, giving {{user}} the opportunity to speak her grievances. When she didn't, he jerked his head toward the man who stood next to her. Only when the man touched her arm to escort her out, she screamed:

"Daemon Targaryen!"

The name echoed between the walls of the Great Hall like a scandal and prayer altogether, the murmurs of the crowd momentarily falling silent as the name made its impact.

"It might really be entertaining, uncle," Rhaenyra whispered to Daemon as everyone's gaze shot straight to his face.

"What of him?"

Viserys questioned, though the authority in his tone dropped as the name of his brother indeed made its impact.

"That vile, cruel, barbaric man shattered my everything!" {{user}}'s voice grew painfully loud with every word she screamed, her throat left raw.

Scene 3: Lord Commander of the City Watch

"I did what?"

Daemon had to speak as the rest of the hall fell silent, including his brother, everyone staring at his face—which was covered with confusion, his brows furrowed, and nose crunched,

"You won't confess to it, would you?" {{user}} sobbed at him, breaking down further,

"Tell me the entirety of it, girl. What did Daemon do?" Viserys spoke frantically, while Daemon and Rhaenyra stood back still in their place, quiet.

"Your Grace, that man stripped me of my dignity, he stole my integrity, he murdered my husband, he left me nothing to hold onto,"

The whispers grew louder. Daemon started to listen attentively. Rhaenyra stepped away from him. While Viserys sensed a fucking calamity coming his way.

Before he could signal Otto to clear the hall, {{user}} was already spitting her words out,

"Three years since I've been grieving," {{user}} panted out, her gaze venomous and broken simultaneously. "After he," She jabbed a trembling finger at Daemon,

"He—he—he—and his men," {{user}} sobbed out, heaving, while Daemon stared at her face dumbfounded,

"When he was Lord Commander of the City Watch," She managed to form a coherent sentence, continuing, "The—they broke into my house late at night," {{user}} gasped a breath again,

"Clear the halls!"

Otto called out to the men guarding the Throne Room, a hysteria spreading as people moved and struggled to stay simultaneously to listen to what {{user}} had to say, while she never stopped speaking,

"And raped me, held me down, smothered me,"

Each claim was a death sentence already executing at the base of Daemon's throat, yet he stood there—his weight shifting completely on one foot, hands resting on the hilt of his sword, eyes narrowed,

"Beat my husband to death when he tried to save me from Prince Daemon Targaryen's brutality!"

Scene 4: "Ah"

"We want justice for her!" Some of the people started calling, some defended Daemon, while Daemon himself seemed to catch on.

Three years. Lord Commander. That Petite frame. Redhead...

"Ah." Daemon hummed, recalling her. {{user}}.

"I have proof!"

Those three words even stunned Otto for a moment, momentarily halting the way he maneuvered the crowd out of the Great Hall. Daemon's own indifference shattered into a thousand pieces, and then some.

Rhaenyra's gaze shot to her uncle, who stood next to her, a shiver running down her spine.

"Enough!"

Viserys yelled, his voice bringing some semblance of order back into the space.

"Give me the proof, and if my brother hasn't done it, I swear by the Old Gods and the New, you will hang for this treason!"

And then came the next words from {{user}}.

"If you'd allow me to present two men to the court."

Daemon moved from his place then. The crowd cleft before him like the Red Sea, the courtiers violently parting to either side to avoid his path.

A sudden, tense vacuum opened down the center of the Great Hall as Daemon stepped forward, the throngs of people rippling backward in the sheer terror of his stride.

But he didn't speak a single word.

Scene 5: Vegetables

"Your Grace," One man knelt, "Your Grace," Second did, and the hall mostly cleared—the spectacle had ended the moment Daemon stepped down.

"Robert. Harwin."

Daemon murmured, standing beside his brother, staring down at the men kneeling in front of them.

"I gave them the Gold Cloaks back when I was Lord Commander," Daemon whispered to Viserys's ear, the pieces already falling together for him, while Viserys awaited what the men had to say.

"We're here to confess to our sins, Your Grace." One of the men spoke,

"Prince Daemon had commanded us to accompany him to a commoner's house, and we were obliged to go," As one of them fell silent with a sigh, the other started,

"We'd come across..." The man's eyes flicked to {{user}}, "Along with the Prince when we were in the market near Silk Street, and..."

It clicked for Daemon. The vegetables.

Scene 6: Victorious

"It looked convincing enough, right?" {{user}} casually muttered to the woman sitting next to her in the carriage Viserys had assigned to {{user}}, along with two Kingsguard for protection.

"It almost felt like Daemon really did rape and assault you for a moment,"

The woman snorted, one who'd been among the crowd as {{user}}'s informant, to be among the ones who initiated the chants for justice to be granted.

"Well, that means I was successful." {{user}} spoke under her breath, relishing the unspoken victory.

But had she won?

"What's that noise?" {{user}} questioned the Kingsguard who stood by the door of her house from the inside, while the other stood outside.

"Check it."

As the man moved to walk out, {{user}} followed, but only to close the door behind her. As silence settled, so did {{user}}, and she walked away to her bedchamber to prepare for the night.

When {{user}} heard the creak of the door, she figured it'd be the guard.

"Shh."

{{user}}'s chin raised high, her hands hanging loosely in the air, chest rising and falling in a controlled motion as the cold steel pressed at the base of her throat.

"My Lady,"

Daemon whispered into her hair before the same dagger reached down to wipe away the blood that coated the steel onto the sleeve of {{user}}'s robe that she'd changed into—the blood of the two guards he'd just gutted.

"I—"

The words broke into a sharp gasp as Daemon's fingers fisted into {{user}}'s hair at the base of her scalp, wrenching on it until he shoved her back onto the floor, stepping past her to lock the door.

"I figured, since you put on such a convincing show, why don't I actually do to you what you said I did to you?" Daemon muttered under his breath, reaching to extend her a hand,

"Up,"

Daemon murmured, and then grabbed at her forearm to yank her to her feet.

"You'd only prove me right if you killed me, Viserys will never believe you and—" He cut her off by backhanding her across the face, and then grabbing her instantly so she won't fall again,

"I'm not here to kill you, and that," Daemon trailed off, referring to the fact that he just backhanded her,

"That was for the performance in the hall," Daemon explained with a detached sort of interest,

"Tell me what it would take for you to tell my brother, the King, the truth," Daemon put forward the condition, stepping out of her space to show her he meant no more harm.

"What do you want?"