Another Way to Feed the Fire Chapter 1 (ASOIAF Daemon SI)

Racallio Ryndoon

The man who led the largest (suck on that Braavos!) fleet in the world was sitting at his favorite tavern, a little place that served drinks that were obviously changed with some weird herbs that made people hallucinate. It seemed like there weren’t many people that liked to see things that weren’t really there and that’s why it wasn’t very popular, the price of the drinks might have something to do with it too but Racallio had coin to spare and he found that madness gave him a different perspective from everyone else.

Madness and greatness were the two sides of the same coin and by glimpsing at things beyond what men should understand Racallio had turned out great. Normally he would be deep in his cups and so drugged that he couldn’t even recognize up from down and dream from reality but there was something in the air that had his hair standing on end. Perhaps a battle was approaching or maybe just an ill omen. His last fortune prediction did say that he was in danger, but he was always in danger.

After all, Racallio’s business was war, it was as simple as that. It was all he was ever good for, it was all he liked, more than wine, more women, more than money. Everything paled in comparison to the feeling of being in a fight. It was the reason he didn’t care about how much he had, he could always take what he wanted from someone else and the War of The Steptones had given him more money than he could possibly spend on ten lifetimes.

Yes, Racallio was a man who was experienced in war and that’s why he trusted his instincts more than any assurance any man or god could give him. So when he felt danger as the sun started to set on the horizon Racallio donned his usual disguise and slowly made his way out of the city. Racallio snorted as he thought of his ‘disguise’. Most people thought that he was a madman that believed that covering himself in perfumed silks and putting some fruits on his chest meant nobody would notice he was a man but that was the whole point. The trick itself was to make people believe that they knew what he was doing, that he was nothing more than a deviant or a madman, but the true purpose of his disguise was to gather information and to get out of situations he didn’t like.

It wasn’t always like that, at first he had donned his ‘disguise’ as a bet to his men, that he was so important that the fat magisters who ruled over the Triarchy wouldn’t replace him even if showed himself to be a madman. Racallio had won that bet quite handily because the magisters had instructed their servants to ignore him or to pretend to believe him when he approached them in his disguise. That sure had been fun and he made sure to return every last bit of coin he had won in that bet back to his men in the form of whores and wine.

Loyalty was fickle in his line of work and it was best to keep it when one wanted to live long enough to enjoy even more war. Shaking his head Racallio stopped thinking about the past and concentrated on what he was doing, and that was getting out of the city. He could feel it in the air, something was going to happen here and Racallio wasn’t going to stay to see it.

Just as he reached the walls of the city night arrived and it was heralded by the roar of a beast, one that Racallio never wanted to see face to face. Not when he had seen with his own eyes the beast’s work and heard the screams of its victims.

Racallio took off his perfumed clothing and took out his sword but instead of running to the center of the city as some of the guards did Racallio moved towards one of the guards with a horse, and just as he killed the man atop the horse the night turned into day behind him. Racallio turned around and saw the city covered in flames.

It was a real shame that he didn’t take his men with him but corralling all of them would have been very difficult and taking so many people out of the city would have just alerted the populace and made his escape harder, besides, Racallio could just start all over again. It was a shame that the invasion of the Stepstones wouldn’t happen and he was sure that the Dornish would be disappointed when they find out that the flee they send there was confronted with the whole Velaryon fleet.

As the city burned behind him Racallio laughed, Daemon Targaryen had just made normal warfare a joke, what city would stand against a dragon if it was burned in the end? who could afford the price of killing him? The faceless men would charge a sum proportional to the danger their target represented and before he decided to destroy Tyrosh Daemon’s life had been valued higher than what three free cities could afford together, now it would be even higher and even if they succeeded Essos might still burn for it.

The Free Cities had learned the hard way that killing a dragon rider can be worse than letting him live. When Valyria fell, those dreaming of freedom had killed the dragon riders lucky (or perhaps unlucky) enough to be in what are now the Free Cities, the rage of the dragons that were left behind almost turned Essos into nothing but cinders. There was a reason that the disputed lands were so disputed and why Pentos despite the large farmland available didn’t have more cities.

“Well, I’m sure there are people in Norvos who can use my talents, maybe the Braavosi would let me take command of one of their ships!” Racallio laughed as he went to the waiting horizon with only the stars guiding him.

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Baevar Taenaleos

Like many in the city guard of Tyrosh Baevar was a man on the first step of his journey into manhood, he had seen seventeen summers and his eighteenth was approaching fast and then he would be able to join up with the rest of the Trairchy’s Fleet on their rightful war against the Tyrant of the Stepstones. Why Daemon the Tyrant decided that putting such harsh tariffs and tolls on the routes most used by the Triarchy was a good idea was a mystery but it was lucky he did or else Baevar would never have the possibility to rise higher than where he was now.

There were rumors circling around that many of the people in the fleet had become so rich that they had moved to a better place! Baevar wished to have the same good fortune but first, he had to finish his duties as a century atop the walls around the docks.

“Baevar, you’re finally here! I thought I would have to keep going” his friend and fellow sentry Valarr spoke in a hurry and for once Baevar didn’t blame him. “And if you say Valar Morghulis one more time I’m going to push my spear so far up your ass that it will come out of your mouth”

Valarr finished his words with a growl that would have been intimidating if his friend’s head didn’t reach his chest, ala, Valarr suffered from a condition that couldn’t be cured by anyone but the gods, he was very short.

“I would never miss a shift! Not when I want to join in on the fighting over the Stepstones” Valarr laughed at his answer in good cheer and patted Baevar’s back.

“I hear that the Sea Snake has more money than any magister and that no matter how much the combined fleet steals he never runs out, not bad for a barbarian lord eh? But you should be careful Baevar I heard that the beast that the Tyrant commands is terrifying”

“Dragons can be killed” Baevar dismissed his friend’s worries with a wave of his hand “The Rhoynar did it why can’t we? We have better steel, better men and better commanders.”

“If it was really that easy then we wouldn’t be sending more and more people to die on the Stepstones, I heard that Yraelor never returned home and that the magisters are lying about people moving elsewhere after receiving plunder” Valarr spoke somberly and there was a look of grief on his face, one that was soon mirrored by Baevar but unlike his short friend Baevar managed to pit on a smile.

“It’s best we don’t dwell on such things, we are alive and I’m sure Yraelor wouldn’t want us to remember him like this…Why don’t I skip this and go for a drink with you? My treat I promise!”

Just as Valarr was about to accept something appeared in the distance, the light of the moon allowed them to see the silhouette of a bird coming to city but as it got closer and closer Baevar realized with growing horror that it wasn’t a bird at all but something much worse.

It all started with a roar. Baevar felt it on his bones and while he wanted to run he still had a duty to perform and with shaking legs, he approached the bell that would warn the city of the Tyrant’s arrival.

“Baevar! We have to run! Its coming for the wall” Valarr was trying to drag him away as he talked but Baevar continued to walk despite it all.

“We have to warn them! If not the whole city-“ Baevar never got to finish his words a night turned to day. The dragon had finally made his entrance by taking out the ballistae on the right side of the wall, the screams of men filled the night sky along with the roars of the beast that was the terror of the Stepstones.

Again and again, that terrible monster opened its maw, and from it spewed flames capable of turning stone into a liquid. Men died in droves while they both watched paralyzed as their city started to burn. Not even the holy sites were safe as the dragon seemed to take special attention to burn them along with the people seeking refuge inside of them. Rich and poor burned equally as the beast gorged itself with the corpses of his victims and the wind carried the mad laughter of the man that commanded the beast.

Baevar had heard about the concept of hell and this was as close to what he had imagined. What a cruel joke that those who feared hell were ruled by a family that made that hell a real place. Manses and shops, whorehouses and orphanages everything burned as the Tyrant laughed, everything they had said about Daemon Targaryen had been true and even that hadn’t been enough to portray how terrible he actually was.

The dragon kept on going venturing onto the city for brief moments before returning to the walls to burn anyone brave enough that tried to approach the ballista and through it all Baevar watched with a single question in his mind.

“Why isn’t he burning the docks?” Valarr asked the question that Baevar was pondering and as soon as he heard it, he realized the answer.

“Because then the Velaryon ships wouldn’t be able to make landfall” It was obvious in hindsight and for once he was glad that he hadn’t listened to Valarr had he done so they would have been trying to flee like the rest of the people in the middle of the burning city.

Tyrosh was in flames and soon most of the city would be nothing but ashes, already a mob was moving towards the docks since they were the only place free from the fire of the Tyrant. More and more came as time passed until even the walls were full of men and women.

Baevar thought that he would meet his end when the shadow of the beast started moving in their direction, the panicked crowd tried to run but they only ended up trampling each other, women and men cried as they realized that doom was upon them but Baevar was resolute in meeting death with the blade of his spear. The dragon landed atop the wall and it was so close to Baevar that he could smell the putrid breath of the beast.

It stank of burning flesh and blood and it threatened to make Baevar vomit. On top of it was the most handsome man Baevar had ever seen, Daemon Targaryen looked nothing like what they said, despite being an abomination born of incest his face was the very picture of perfection and the only thing marring his beauty was that maddening grin on his face.

“People of Tyrosh! You have been lied to! For years the magisters have spread rumors about why you needed to give ‘volunteers’” Daemon sneered as he said the word “to the Triarchy’s fleet, they have told you that it was my fault that this war started, that I was a greedy malformed monster, and that they would cast me down!”

“That didn’t happen and because of their failures your countrymen have been feeding the fishes around my kingdom while your fleet has turned into nothing but wood floating outside the docks, you have no army and as you may have noticed, your city is burning around you and it is all because of the Triarchy! It’s all because of their greed!”

Daemon laughed before he continued, the sound had been companied by screams and roars before, and now it could be heard clearly and it was more haunting than ever. He drew a sword that had the famous rippling of Valyrian steel as he continued “As you can see I’m not a monster I’m soothing far worse, I am a Dragon Lord! I want all of you that survived to spread the word, I will burn each of the cities that make up the Triarchy unless they stop this war!”

With that declaration, the man who would forever be an enemy of his people took the chains binding the beast into his hands but before he could leave one brave soul decided to speak up.

“Y-You burn our city, kill our people! And want us to believe that this is the magisters’ fault!” The impassioned scream of the young woman gave some semblance of life back to the people, rage had that effect but the Tyrant’s attention was now focused solely on the girl.

“Come girl stand before me” With determination that surpassed even that of the greatest of men the woman walked and the crowd parted before her. “Let me tell you a truth of the world that has long been withheld from those of lower stations, truth is what the victorious wants it to be. Had I fallen in the Stepstones then the magisters’ truth would have been the real one but I was the one who won and I decide what is the truth and the truth is that I hold no hate for you. You who work so hard, who live such harsh lives, you who have given everything just so you could be protected.”

Daemon’s words were moving some among the crowd those who had fallen on hard times even before the dragon had burned the city, those that couldn’t get something better out of life, and those that were now slaves without a master.

“Your magisters’ poked at the dragon, what else could they have expected but fire? You are brave and I like that, come with me, not as a bed warmer or a slave, come with me to build my kingdom into something that wouldn’t lose when compared to the rest of the Free Cities! You will be protected by a dragon and anyone who tries to harm you will face a dragon’s wrath. This is an offer for all of you, for the slaves, for the oppressed, for the overworked artisans. Join me! and forsake fear to live with someone who will only tell the truth!”

With that, he took to the air amidst the cheers of the people, those cheers turned to screams as the crowd started fighting amongst itself. Shouts of “traitor” and “freedom” became more and more common. It was then that Baevar realized that the ships were still there and if the people weren’t fighting someone could have taken all of them so that the Triarchy could have a chance at striking back.

Was it all a lie? Or was the offer real? Those questions were the last thing to pass through Baevar’s mind as the end of a blade sunk itself on his chest. Valarr had stabbed him and he was crying.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! But I know you! I know how loyal you are!” Valarr screamed as he pulled out his sword and stabbed Baevar again “I don’t want to end up like the city! I don’t want to burn! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Valarr kept apologizing as he cried on top of him, Baevar hardly noticed when he had fallen to the ground or when Valarr had pulled him into a place where there weren’t lots of people. Everything was hazy…was this what dying felt like? Was this what death was? Baevar chuckled, dying was just like sleeping. A hand passed through his hair and Baevar met the reddened eyes of his friend.

Baevar opened his mouth but no sound came out, strangely enough he wasn’t panicking, Baevar just felt a strange sense of peace that came with the certainty of his death. Finally, after opening his mouth several times he was able to talk, it came out raspy and in pieces but he talked.

“Valarr…I…would have…gone…with you…” everything turned dark after that but he could hear Valarr screaming in the distance.

“Baevar! NO! nonononononono! Don’t go! I’m sorry! Please come back!” Baevar let out one last chuckle that might as well have been a cough but he couldn’t help himself. Valarr was so silly, Baevar wasn’t going anywhere.

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Author note: another dead OC but such is life, I did this instead of updating All I Need is Guts so that update comes tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as i did when i wrote it. Next time Small Council Reaction + Rhaenrya and another Velaryon POV.