[King's Landing]
As the sun set over King's Landing, the city was filled with tension. They seemed to have been granted a temporary reprieve in their battle against the dead.
Soldiers from the North, the Wildlings, the Martells of Dorne, the Velaryons of Driftmark, and the Lannisters of Casterly Rock had gathered for a meeting that could determine the fate of Westeros. The Vale Knights were also present, their presence a testament to the delicate balance of power in the realm.
But two key figures were noticeably absent - Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen. Despite their recent victory against the Army of the Dead, the rumors of Jon's demise and Daenerys being carried off by Drogon after being stabbed had left a sense of unease among those who had gathered.
Meanwhile, Ser Davos Seaworth leaned against a pillar, his weary eyes flickering between the various factions represented in the hall. As the former smuggler turned knight, he had seen firsthand the devastation wrought by the Army of the Dead, and he knew that the only way to truly defeat them was through unity and cooperation.
But as the night wore on, it became clear that such unity was easier said than done.
The Northerners eyed the Unsullied warily, as some of their men reported seeing Jon being attacked by men in Unsullied armour, right before he disappeared.
The Martells seethed with anger towards the Lannisters, who they held responsible for the destruction of Dorne and the death of their beloved Princess Elia and her two children, Rhaenys and Aegon. The Velaryons watched the proceedings with cool detachment. And the Vale Knights remained alert, wondering if any of their fellow nobles would attempt to strike at them while they were unprotected.
But despite these tensions, there was one thing that brought everyone together: fear. Fear of the Night King and his army of the dead. For even though they had defeated the wights that had threatened King's Landing, the fact remained that the Night King himself had yet to make an appearance. It was as if he was waiting for something, biding his time before striking again. And without Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen to protect them, the people of King's Landing felt vulnerable and exposed.
Rumors circulated through the city like wildfire, adding to the already palpable sense of unease. Some whispered that Jon Snow had been killed by Daenerys, and that Daenerys had been carried off by Drogon after being stabbed by an unknown assassin. Others claimed that the Night King had been spotted mqrching towards the city, his army of the dead following closely behind him.
The city was abuzz with the shocking news of Jon Snow's death. His uncle, Prince Daemon Targaryen, and his wife, Princess Aelinor, had returned to the Red Keep, their faces grim with sorrow. They had found Jon's body, stabbed through the heart by Longclaw, the sacred sword they knew belonged to him. The Northerners and Wildlings were outraged, crying foul play and accusing Queen Daenerys of the deed.
But the truth was far more complicated. Daenerys had been attacked, stabbed by an unknown assassin, shortly after Jon's murder, and she had been carried away by her loyal dragon, Drogon. The scale of the betrayal was staggering, and the people of King's Landing were left reeling as they struggled to make sense of the events that had unfolded.
Daemon Targaryen and his wife, Princess Aelinor, stood before the gathered soldiers, their faces grim and determined. They had brought news of an ambush on them by men with no sigils. With Jon dead and Daenerys missing, morale at an all-timr low. They needed someone to step up and unite them, to lead them into this battle for their survival.
The greatest threat loomed ahead - the Night King still roamed the land, and they could not afford to be distracted by petty squabbles among themselves.
"Men," Daemon called out, his voice ringing through the silence. "We were set upon by men with no sigils," Daemon said, his voice tight with anger. "They came without warning, leaving us with no choice but to defend ourselves."
Aelinor nodded in agreement, her eyes flashing with determination. "We cannot let such treachery go unpunished," she declared. "Those who would seek to harm us must be brought to justice."
The Night King was still out there, somewhere, and the thought sent a chill down the spines of every soldier present.
"We have more immediate concerns than petty betrayals," Daemon muttered under his breath. "The Army of the Dead is still roaming the land, and we cannot afford to be distracted by internal conflicts."
Aelinor frowned, her brow furrowed in concern. She knew that her mother, Queen Cersei, had been acting suspiciously of late, and she couldn't help but wonder if she might be behind the ambush. But how could she accuse her own mother of such a thing? And even if she did, what proof did she have?
As the couple pondered their next move, a figure emerged from the shadows at the back of the room. It was Ser Axell Florent, one of their most trusted advisors. He bowed low before the prince and princess.
"My lords," he said, his voice oily with obsequiousness. "I bring grave news. Our scouts report that the Night King has been sighted again, very close to King's Landing. We must prepare for another attack at once."
Daemon narrowed his eyes. "And what of our enemies within?" he asked sharply. "Have you any idea who might be behind the ambush?"
Florent hesitated before speaking. "I... may have some information on that front, my lord. I fear that certain parties within the kingdom may be taking advantage of the chaos caused by the Night King's return. They see it as an opportunity to advance their own interests, and will stop at nothing to achieve their goals."
Aelinor frowned, horrified. "Do you mean to say that someone within our own ranks is conspiring against us?"
Florent nodded gravely. "It seems so, my lady. But I assure you, I am doing everything in my power to root out these traitors and bring them to justice."
Daemon snorted in disgust. "Justice?" he repeated. "There will be no justice for those who betray us. Only death."
He turned to his wife, who was scanning the faces of their men, his eyes burning with determination. "Aelinor, we must take action immediately. Not just against the Night King, but against those who would seek to destroy us from within. We will not rest until all threats to our rule are neutralized."
Aelinor nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. She knew that this would be a difficult road, but she was ready to fight for her husband, her kingdom, and her very life.
"We must press on," Daemon urged his troops. "Our enemies are many, and timr is against us. We cannot let our guard down, lest we fall prey to the darkness."
Aelinor nodded in agreement, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "We will not falter," she vowed. "We will stand together and defend our kingdom against any foe, living or dead."
But even as they rallied their troops, Daemon couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled upon him like a shroud. He knew that Cersei Lannister, his mother-in-law and Queen, was hiding somewhere within the walls of the Red Keep, scheming her next move. And he suspected that she would stop at nothing to maintain her grip on power, even if it meant betraying them, more specifically him, in the heat of battle.
As the sun began to set over the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, Daemon steeled himself for what lay ahead. For the sake of his people, he must keep his focus sharp and his wits about him, lest he become the next victim of Cersei's treachery.
"We must find those responsible for this treachery," Daemon growled, his eyes flashing with anger. "They may have thought us weakened by our recent battles, but they will soon learn the error of their ways."
Aelinor, her silver hair tied back in a manner of intricate braids, nodded fiercely in agreement. She was every bit as determined as her husband.
As they thought back to their attackers, they focused on the fact that all of the slain men wore no sigils or insignia of any kind. It was as if they were just ordinary soldiers, without any allegiance or purpose other than to kill. And yet, Daemon couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more sinister at play here.
"This feels like a setup," he muttered under his breath. "Someone wants us to think that these men were nothing more than mindless pawns, but I refuse to believe it."
Aelinor nodded in agreement. "We must find out who benefits from our deaths," she said firmly. "Because if we do not, then we will nevr truly be safe."
As the surviving members of the living army gathered around the campfire that night, tensions ran high. Everyone knew that the Night King was still out there, waiting for his chance to strike again. And yet, amidst all the fear and uncertainty, there was something else lurking beneath the surface - the suspicion that one of their own might be behind the attack on Daemon and Aelinor.
Daemon suspected it was his mother-in-law, Queen Cersei, who had orchestrated the ambush. He had long distrusted her cunning nature and her desire for power at any cost. But Aelinor was not so sure. She knew her mother would not risk her being killed accidentally in the chaos.
As they strategized their next move, the sound of groaning and shuffling could be heard coming from outside the camp. It grew louder and closer, until finally, a horde of the undead burst into the clearing, their eyes glowing with malevolent intent.
With swords drawn, the living prepared to face the dead, knowing that they could not afford to be betrayed in the midst of this battle. For if they were to fall here, the entire kingdom would be doomed to suffer the same fate as the fallen soldiers.