The Black Lion: Game Of Thrones Fanfic

…Chapter Start

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(King's Landing 297 AC)

A day had passed since his duel with Lancel, which led to him 'celebrating' with his family, mostly Tyrion and his father—which by itself was something he was grateful for even though he had fallen to the pleasure of wine.

This was something…that he didn't expect; truthfully as he always wanted to stay away from the wine, he had seen what could happen when one would lose themselves in pleasure—an example being King Robert.

And for a first-timer who was given the chance to taste one of the more…exorbitant in Tyrion's collection he had fallen into its sweet embrace, losing himself into its pleasures.

"I can still feel the headache from the hangover," Daemon muttered while rubbing his brow.

Yeah…even though he had found the taste surprisingly pleasurable he wasn't about to drink again anytime soon.

"Thankfully Father had the decency to allow me to do my squire duties on the morrow." He said under his breath.

Speaking of which—The Black-haired youth was currently cleaning his father's armor after his training session with the other Knights of the Kingsguard, which he was thankful he got the chance to witness.

Watching the famed 'Golden Lion,' something he liked, calling his father manhandling Ser Meryn was appealing, and even the minor spar with Ser Barristan before he was called away on orders of the Queen was even more appealing.

"Soon that will be me." He said.

The cleaning of his armor only took a couple minutes. The only thing he had left to do was polish the rather easy armor. He had been doing this since he was 8 when he was fostered at Casterly Rock!

'I wonder how Grandsire is doing? He probably still has a firm grip on things with that glare of his.' Daemon thought.

Daemon would reflect on his time when he was fostering at the rock—meeting his Grandsire, the 'Mighty' Tywin. He was everything the whispers of men say, and from that meeting, no journey in his life, he knew he couldn't just settle for mediocrity.

"All finished." He said aloud.

He would then organize his father's armor, placing it back before leaving his room—his duties for the time being were finished as his father was out for the time being and should he guess—with the queen.

Now, with free time on his hands, he would take the time to start walking throughout the keep before going toward the garden. Hopefully, Myrcella was there.

Unfortunately, fate had a different plan.

While walking—he saw the visage of an individual that Daemon met rather scarcely, but the times he does, he gets a weird feeling from the man.

"Daemon Waters, The 'Black Lion'." The man said with a sly tone.

"Lord Baelish, A pleasure," Daemon replied, bowing slightly while rolling his eyes.

The man in front of him had sharp facial features, dark hair with some gray mixed in, and a pointed beard at his chin– he was also the master of coin in the King's court—Lord Petyr Baelish.

The lord of fingers was seen smirking, something that, for all Daemon could remember, had always been on his face, coupled with his sly but condescending expression.

"For the past day, your name was being whispered throughout the keep, and even out it at some places; it seemed your clashing of blades with Ser Kevan's son garnered much attention...It's astounding, really." Lord Baelish replied.

"I guess if it had reached your ears then, Lord Baelish I guess it was really a performance worthy then," Daemon said confidently, his tone measured.

"Ahh, yes, the story of the squire of the King slayer beating the squire of the king, though surprising, but since you are trained by the Kingslayer, I should have expected it." He said mixing it with condescension.

"I wonder if the Knights of the Fingers would be a better match to Lord Baelish—I did hear knights of the Vale are one of the most competent in the Seven Kingdoms," Daemon replied sharply but with snarkiness.

Baelish was quick to catch on, staring at the black-haired youth with his usual smirk that was starting to get on Daemon's nerves.

"The knights of the Vale would prove to be challenging even if challenged by the bastard of the Kingslayer," Baelish remarked.

"Is that all lord Baelish? As you are aware I have duties to be doing." Daemon said, keeping his composure, knowing that this cunt wanted a rise out of him.

"Actually, now that I've seen you, I wanted to relay a couple of words before I make my timely departure," he said.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but there might be an opportunity for a bastard like you, and when I say this, I mean it literally. I'm sure you are aware of the King's…love for his hobbies, one of the many that include fighting. The reason why I am saying this is because it has been a while since he last held a tournament, a tournament where… boys like yourself would make use of their talents." Baelish said his tone still had that shyness to it.

"I'm aware, but I'm a squire; it's not expected of me," Daemon replied.

"That's surprising; With you being Ser Jamie's son, I thought you ambitious; perhaps that trait had slipped by you," he said smugly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He said, narrowing his eyes at the man.

"Did you think your father is the man he is today because he thought what was and wasn't 'expected' of him? If you think so you're as a fool as you're a bastard. If the opportunity presents itself why don't you take it? Or do you lack the instinct to take initiative?" Lord Baelish said condescendingly

Hearing the words of the sly bastard in front of him, Daemon started to feel the rise in his emotions—how dare He? Daemon wanted to lash out and berate him, but the only thing he could do was stare at him with a cold expression.

"I'll think about it, Lord Baelish, but for now, I have things to do," Daemon said, leaving The man to stare at his back, and even now, he could feel the eyes of the lord staring at him with his trademark smirk.

'I'll show him, do you take me for a craven? A lord who isn't even a knight is telling me I lack initiative? I'll show you that even a black lion is still a lion, Baelish!" Daemon said internally clenching his hands.

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…Chapter Ends