8 moons later
The Iron Throne looms in the great room, the blades of the conqueror's enemies, an indication of House Targaryen power, that could command or control any lord or vassal across the nation
The iron throne illuminates against the candles in the chandeliers and torches that was lit on the walls. Daemon stared at his brother's seat for a while before proceeding to climb the dias, to sit on it.
He is aware of which blades were sharp and which were dull, so he avoided cutting himself on the throne, for a moment he imagined himself being King.
He felt he belonged here, not Geralt, not the unborn heir Aemma carried in her womb, not even Rheanyra, no one.
This seat was his and his alone, but with Geralt's arrival he feels he is slowly being replaced by his nephew.
Irritated, Daemon frowns at the thought of Geralt being King,
Sighing, he stand up and descends the throne and gave one last look at the iron seat, before exiting the room, the Heir's Tournament is soon approaching, he must put the capital in order to avoid any calamities, tonight he and his gold cloaks must mark their territory in Kings Landing.
Dealing with politics bored him, and sitting in council meetings irritated him the most, especially breathing the same air with Otto Hightower.
Even though Viserys granted him the post of Master of Laws and Master of Coin, he still dismissed him from both offices and Daemon knows it's all Otto's doings.
The Hand will keep planting seeds of doubts in his brother to rid him off due to their rivalry.
Daemon sees Otto as a pretender, a leech, an ambitious man, greedy for power and station and Viserys is blind to see that Otto is preying on him for his own selfish gains as well as the rest of them in the Small Council.
Nonetheless, being commander of the City Watch allowed Daemon to gain the title 'Prince of the City'.
During the end of the first century, the city watch was poorly coordinated, despite the crowns laws, crime rates were high and enforcements were low.
The gold cloaks were randomly trained with hired goons from lowborn homes. But when Viserys named Daemon their new commander, many young high born men joined and equity amongst them was strengthened.
Daemon reminded them of their military installments and responsibilities for the Seven Kingdoms, he even urged the crown to invest in their military services, and within a year the gold cloaks numbered 3,000 strong.
Assuming the office, has given him an ability to hone is skills and make a mark. Being a rogue prince with two sides of good and evil was a balanced mesure. He re-formed and reorganized the weak men in the gold cloaks, re-equipped and gave them a perfect standing in Kings Landing.
Many loved him, few despised him, some hated him, to some he was a hero, to others a villain and to the realm is was the heir to the iron throne.
******
The City Watch's barracks is fortified like a stronghold. Daemon dresses himself. He fits on black ring mail armor and straps a hauberk across his waist which carries a Valyrian steel sword called dark sister. It's a hand-and-a-half type with a black, leather wrapped hilt. Lastly, he fastens on a gold cloak over his shoulders.
He then rises and goes out to meet his men.
Daemon marches out into the courtyard of the barracks. The gates to the city are sealed. The prince's hair is long and pin-straight, and it shines like beaten silver. Daemon exudes a dark charisma; he is a very dangerous man.
Standing beside him is one of the seven gate captains, Captain Randyll Barret, a common-born man with highborn ambitions.
He follows Daemon with loyal fervor. Boots stomp on the ground, and many of the watchmen bang their armor of their breastplates with their wooden cudgels.
Daemon stands amongst his men, a spiteful edge to him.
"Commander on the floor!" Captain Randyll Barret announced in a loud voice.
"When I took command of the Watch, you were stray mongrels, starving and undisciplined. But now? You're a pack of hounds, sated and honed for the hunt." Daemon says vibrantly with power laced on his tone.
Captain Barret howls like a dog at Daemon's side. The watchmen howl back from the crowd. They live for this.
"My brother's city has fallen into squalor. Crime of every breed has been allowed to thrive." Daemon pauses.
"No longer. Beginning tonight, King's Landing will learn to fear the color gold."
A war-cry goes up from the City Watch, all cloaked in gold cheered their commander as the gates were opened.
The anticipation was thrilling and their blood boiled for the ruthless hunt.
Throughout the capital, all the barracks were opened in seven huge gates built at the entrances into the capital; The Dragon Gate, The Lion Gate, the Old Gate, The Mud Gate, The Gate of the Gods, the King's Gate and The Iron Gate and the Red Keep barracks gates, all were opened and the gold cloaks matched into the streets in different squads and directions.
Daemon leads a phalanx of city watchmen out of the barracks gates and onto the streets of Flea Bottom.
Flea Bottom represents the dregs of King's Landing, where the low-born take their low pleasures.
Cookfires boil cauldrons of eternal stews up and down the expanse, preparing the infamous "bowls of brown".
For the denizens of Flea Bottom, every day is a battle for mere survival. Danger and disease lurks in every shadow.
Daemon grins at the promise ahead. "Captain Barret. Signal the chase." He says boldly.
Captain Randyll Barret grins and blows a whistle giving our orders.
" You take 10 men, take Streets of Silk!"
"You take 25 men to the Streets of Flour!"
"You take 13 men to the Streets of Steel!"
"You! take 12 men to the White Harbour spare no venom!"
"You! You! You! Take 20 men each and go the other streets and raid out every vermin!"
"All of you go! Search every house, alleys, brothels, Purge every ilk, every street of criminal scum! Show no mercy!" Captain Randyll Barret gives out the orders before turning to Daemon.
"Round up every criminal who defy the king's word and enforce the crown's laws!" Daemon yells as a war cry erupts amongst the gold cloaks.
"All right! You heard the Commander! Hunt's on!"
The watchmen fan out into the darkness of Flea Bottom, the firelight reflecting off their new gold cloaks.
The onlookers ran to home and watched through the windows and doors, and other innocent people gave them a wide berth.
Some of the guilty scatter away in fear, making themselves for easy targets.
The gold cloaks flush low criminals out of hiding. Tavern and fighting pit doors are kicked in.
Criminals caught at each streets were chased and apprehended, before being pummeled with clubs, each one shouting in pain and pleading for mercy.
Anyone foolish enough to run is pursued and tackled by the watchmen. There seem to be three gold cloaks for every one criminal.
Gold cloaks have quickly encircled the city square. A flank of them pushes back against a fleeing party.
Some criminals tried to escape through the dark alleyway but we're caught by a watchman on horse, as they turn to escape the other route, they were caught up by gold cloaks who beat them mercilessly.
Watchmen chased two criminals running on the rampants and caught them dragging the thugs while beating them, another tried to climb the gate but was forcefully yanked down. One was caught hiding in someone's home, he was throw out the door, landing on the pavement.
"Get up!" The gold cloaks demanded, picking him up as the onlookers watched in terror.
The guilty are snatched by gold cloaks. Captain Barret looks at one, a scrawny wretch, and issues summary judgment:
"Thief!"
Captain Barret hands the thief over to have his hand removed for his crimes.
Another gold cloak sneaks into the alley, observes and inspects a gutter rat. He sees him trying to harass a girl not more than three and ten, caressing and forcefully putting his hand in her skirts, the girl whimpered and struggled but the gutter rat mocks her and forces himself on the girl.
The gold cloak slowly tiptoes and lunges at him, kicks him in balls and tells the girl to run home. The gutter rats pleads for mercy but the gold cloak slaps him and grabs his collar, another gold cloaks comes from behind uses a dagger to cut his belt, the gutter rat's trousers are cut and dropped, exposing his cock.
"Shut up you worm!" The gold cloak says as he drags him out of the alley as the other watchman followed behind, dragging, beating and pushing him to the square.
"We've got a Raper!" One of them declares.
"Here's another Raper!" A watchman shouts.
"I've got two theifs!"
Gold cloaks move in to geld the accusers begs for mercy.
Horrible judgments of death was given to the Thieves and Rapers as they were called out by the watchmen. Then, at last, Daemon hears the accusation he has been waiting for:
"Murderer!"
Daemon draws Dark Sister from its scabbard, the ladders and pools of Valyrian steel shining in the torchlight.
Daemon stalks toward a Gargantuan brute who is forced to his knees by a group of gold cloaks led by Captain Barret.
The brute's neck is bent forward for his headsman, Prince Daemon swinged his sword down and beheads the brute.
Wooden carts were brought into the square as they piled up dismemberment of arms, heads legs, sprawled across the carriage as it was being led away, Daemon even tossed the head of the murderer he slew into one of the carts.
Daemon stands in the center of the square, surveying the chaos with satisfaction. Some criminals were even castrated and their cocks were thrown in the wooden cart.
Spreading fear and violence, asserts his power, he feels delighted in mutilating criminals cutting off hands, ears, fingers, cocks, arms and heads and tonights round up gave him nothing but glory and joy, surely it will be a night to remember.
•••••••••
The next day, at the first light of dawn, the cock crows, the gulls cawed in the sky, birds chirped and the wind blew in flurry of leaves.
Lady Jocelyn was already awake, she stirred and stretched on her bed, rose up in her night gown and slipped from her sheets.
She quickly stripped naked and showered, cleaned up and wears her undergarments then dresses up in a green gown with gold embroidery.
In front there was a U-curve, but a gold net lace covers it like an illusion, it was little bit transparent yet it gave an alluring view of her breasts.
Jocelyn smile at the mirror as she dresse up, her mind were crowded with the thought of the King.
She couldn't wait to report to him this morrow even though he spoke to her professionally when it was necessary.
The man is twenty two years older than her in age, but what can she do, she's drawn to him, awed by his charisma and ego.
Viserys is a rich man with taste, and also a good King to his subjects, despite knowing fully well he's a married man.
Tissaia was glad the King offered her the position to serve in the Queen's retinue, but in her quarters she strictly issues a warning to Jocelyn not do anything foolish, else she'll send her back to Duskendale.
"Whenever you meet the King, be gracefully and don't smile too much."
"Yes aunt." Jocelyn nods.
"Once you deliver your message, you leave respectfully with poise, do not engage him, you mustn't give anyone a chance to doubt of your ethics and values, you serve the King and Queen and you do your job professionally nor with envy nor should you look upon Viserys with a gaze of seduction."
"Yes aunt."
"The King is off limits. He's an important figure in the realm, any mistake with him will either ruin you or kill you." Tissaia tells her profesuly with a warning glare.
"Yes aunt."
"Good. I trust you'll behave decently and not get into any compromising situation with King, do not get into trouble. Understood?" Tissaia says hoarsely.
"Yes aunt. I understand."
Jocelyn looks at her reflection in the mirror.
"Viserys is off limits." She repeats it thrice and takes a deep breath.
Jocelyn sighs and swears to herself not do anything to compromise her image at court, her house or her aunt's position in the Small Council.
"Maybe he's not attracted to me, maybe he doesn't like curvy girls, maybe he's only attracted to his kind, Targaryens do have queer customs." She says with profanity, while putting on her tiny earrings, smirking with ambition gleaming in her eyes.
Whenever Viserys came to Aemma's chambers, he only smiles at the Queen, but when he cut glances with her, he always kept a straight face, stern, cold and regal.
Sometimes when they even cross paths in the Red Keep hallways, she curtly bows and pays obeisance but Viserys ignores her like she doesn't exist.
"Proud man." Jocelyn scoffs.
First he assigns her a post the he ignore her like a plague, she only brings Mellos reports to his quarters, and once the King opens the door, he always takes the parchment and bangs the door on her face.
Jocelyn rolls her eyes at Viserys bad behavior, maybe he does that to pass a message that he's not interested in her.
"What could Aemma possibly have, that I don't?" Jocelyn thought, staring at her reflection in the mirror, imagining herself as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
She wore a gold tiny bracelets that suited her gown and eyes, sprayed her scented oil of cheery and lily from the vial, brushed and styled her hair, applied a little red paint on her lips, blushed on her cheeks, highlighted her eyelashes, fixed her brows and voilà, she blew a kiss to the mirror.
"Perfect.... Let him look upon you and see what he's missing." She whispers, admiring her reflection in the mirror.
Quickly her aunt's servant brought her breakfast, she ate and drank and dashed out of the apartments to the upper echelons of East Wing of the Red Keep in Maegor's Holdfast to go see the Queen.
As soon as she arrives at the doorway, the chamber is busy with handmaids moving hither and thither.
A Septa lights candles, and a Maester sits at a writing desk making notes as Grand Maester Mellos instructs him.
Jocelyn reads the room, before proceeding in, Mellos is checking Aemma's health and pulse, asking her questions in regarding her body internally.
He also checks the condition of her belly, to know if the baby is in the right position, and questions the Queen if she notices any symptoms of late and she responds to him, of back pains and slight headaches.
Aemma sights Jocelyn smelling her flowers before placing the lavenders in her vases, she watched how the young girl, handled the petals, it seemed she likes nature.
"Lady Jocelyn....." Aemma says breezily.
The Darklyn girl snaps out of her thought and turns to the Queen.
"Good morrow Your Grace." She bows.
"Morrow.....I didn't know you liked flowers... What's your favorite?" Aemma counters.
Jocelyn lowers her gaze. "Tulips... Your Grace." She replies.
"Oh.... I thought you'd say roses, many girls like roses." Aemma tells her softly with a chuckle.
With the help of her hand maidens Aemma sat back straight, resting her back and head on the pillow while a handmaid fans her.
"You know Lady Jocelyn, you don't have to come early to my chambers everyday. My handmaids will do the needful." Aemma tells her keenly, rubbing her belly.
Jocelyn smiles.
"You're the important woman in the realm Your Grace, I must perform my duty and assist them and also see that you and the baby are well cared for." Jocelyn replies with remorseful.
Aemma could sense the pity in her tone yet she didn't care, once she gives birth, Jocelyn will be dismissed from her retinue.
"Oh dear.... Very thoughtful of you." Aemma chuckles and waves her away.
Jocelyn bows curtly and goes to assist the handmaid's.
She watches as they bathed the Queen in rich warm essence, brushed her silver hair, rub her mild lavender oil, dries her up and dressed her in rich fabrics to ease her bulge.
Jocelyn assisted in bringing the Queen's breakfast, but stood back as the handmaid's served her. She watched as everyone went in whirlwind doing Aemma's biddings and she envied her position.
Mellos writes all the observations and gives Jocelyn a parchment to deliver to King, in his chambers. Jocelyn bows to the Queen and takes her leave with a wicked smirk on her face, she couldn't wait to see King Viserys.
*****
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