AN: Please don’t hassle me about the name it was honestly the best one I came up with 😂

(280 AC)

Years had passed since the event that had come to be known as the 'Destruction of Duskendale' something that had deeply affected Daemon, he saw men, women and children all turned to ash and sludge while the King laughed. 

After the destruction of Duskendale, Daemon was told to kneel and was knighted by the King he was also given the lands of the Darklyn family including the recently destroyed Duskendale. Daemon felt dirty and disgusted, to be knighted for such an event made him feel like less a knight and more a common bandit which was made worse by the fact he had received the family's lands in return. In one knight he had gone from a bastard squire to a Lord something people dream of and yet he couldn't help but feel disgusted. 

However, he was not stupid enough to refuse a knighthood by the King himself after he just finished massacring a whole city full of people. He had been given the name Silver and formed his own House. Though he didn't plan to use this forever as he wasn't a bastard, using the Blackfyre name would be a death sentence no matter if he coveted the throne or not. 

One solace he had found was in the company of the Queen, she had held him as he wept when he returned to Kings Landing. The Queen was the reason that he had not left Kings Landing as of yet, at 17 years of age he was more than old enough to get married but he chose not to. He didn't want to leave Rhaella, his love for the woman had only increased through the years and he refused to leave her behind to the machinations of a mad man. 

The King had grown much worse since Duskendale if he was ill-tempered and prone to violence before, now was on a completely different level, if a man was accused of a crime then whether he committed it or not didn't matter a large majority of the time he would be killed regardless of the evidence, the King would use his flames to execute them, something Daemon had grown accustomed to over the years. He had kept protecting Rhaella by shifting the King's attention onto himself in subtle ways, and more often than not he was burned by the King, at one point his entire arms' skin had been burnt off. Had it not been for his aura, it would've left scarring and wouldn't have healed fully. 

Speaking of his aura, through years of meditation it had changed, the quality of his aura was on another level to those around him having a rich golden tint to it, not only did it make his aura thicker and more robust but it increased the healing abilities when he used 'Suppression' it had allowed him to take the King's punishments over the years without any permanent repercussions.

Another reason he chose to stay for the moment was the friends he had made in Kings Landing, he had come to be very close with Arthur and Rhaegar with people even starting to call him 'Rhaegar's left hand' as they knew Arthur Dayne was his right. He was an interesting man who believed that a resurgence in magic was coming soon, he delved deep into prophecies and spent many sleepless nights along with Arthur and Daemon researching the Long Night. Daemon thought it to be doubtful, the terror of a second Long Night wasn't something he liked to think about, it is said that it is impossible to use aura around an Other, though for what reason no one knows, perhaps it is just myth. 

Rhaegar had even invited him to stand by his side as he had gotten married, the beautiful Dornish Princess Elia Martell was his bride, and she was most certainly beautiful, with long curly dark hair that fell just above her waist and tanned skin with light brown eyes, she was an exotic beauty. However much to Daemon's confusion Rhaegar didn't seem to see it, though now that he thought about it Rhaegar didn't seem to see women the same way that he did. At first, he thought perhaps Rhaegar enjoyed the company of his own sex, but he didn't seem interested in that either. That had been proven by Jon Connington

In the end, he just had to accept that mayhaps the only love Rhaegar would have is his books and prophecies, though this made Daemon feel bad for Elia as she seemed to have joy at the fact she'd be marrying the Crown Prince. Disappointment and reality seemed to go hand in hand when you lived in Kings Landing, but Daemon would change that. 

All these years he had not sat idle, he had trained and he had gotten stronger, though he had mostly tried to keep this a secret at first. But when he found that he needed help he went to Ser Barristan, he was glad to help him and even agreed to keep such things a secret. Though even then Daemon couldn't trust the old knight and eventually he started training alone though he had a much better idea of how to do it. He had gotten strong, very strong, he hadn't seen the man fight but he believed he could beat Ser Barristan and if he pushed himself to the limit he could beat the King. 

But the King wasn't the only enemy he'd encounter if he fought, and he knew he couldn't fight both the King and any of his Kingsguard, or the Prince or even some of the lesser guards. The King stood at the top and Daemon now had the ability to cast him down, though he needed allies to do so. Rhaegar had confided in him that he had plans to take down his father, he was in the process of funding the biggest tourney that had ever taken place in Westeros. The Whents of Harrenhal would be hosting it and all the lords of the realm would be invited. 

This is what gave Daemon pause, if Rhaegar planned to lead his rebellion then mayhaps he didn't need to do his own, Rhaegar would be a good king and Daemon wouldn't need to take a risk as he wasn't sure he could kill the King.

But given a few more years he would become the strongest. 

———————————————————-

Daemon walked down the streets of Kings landing heading for the docks, it was the day Elia would return from Dorne and he was going to meet her, he initially wanted Rhaegar to come as well but the man refused as he had work to do. He didn't want Elia to return to no greeting so he decided he'd go regardless, Elia was a kind woman, someone who reminded him greatly of Rhaella, very few people are kind without expecting something in return and Daemon felt she deserved to be happy in her marriage, something that he struggled helping with. 

As Daemon walked he was called out by the small folk whom he'd become acquainted with over the years, they all called him the 'Silver Knight' if they loved him, though it was mostly the women who called him that. The people who didn't like him called him the king bastard, which Daemon couldn't blame them for as he had grown he looked even more Targaryen than before. He was now over 6ft and heavily muscled from training his body, his silver-gold hair reached to his shoulders and he usually had it swept behind his ears, had they never met him before they'd assume he was a Targaryen prince. 

Though Blackfyres and Targaryens aren't too distantly related, he hoped that once he told Rhaella and Rhaegar the truth they would accept him as family and not as an enemy. He smiled at the women who greeted him causing more than a few to blush profusely as their husbands or fathers looked angered by their reactions. 

Daemon stopped at a stall in the street of flour, he looked over a selection of pastries "Give me the platter of lemon cakes, though cover them and put them in this basket" he asked politely as he handed the owner a basket he had been carrying, though he did it carefully as there was already a pitcher inside of it "Of course Ser knight, it's a pleasure to see you again" the owner said as he packed the food into the basket. 

Daemon smiled and gave him a gold dragon, something way over what the cost would've been but he liked to help those who lived in the city, he received the income from the lands surrounding Duskendale, so needless to say he was quite rich as he didn't have any lavish tastes and mostly let the money sit there unused. He often visited the orphanages of Kings Landing to make sure they were well maintained and had enough supplies, though the biggest source of his reputation was with the whores of Kings Landing, not that he was a frequent visitor but he had once met a young girl when he was 15 name days, she was a few years younger than he was and her parents had died so she was forced to become a woman of the night to care for her younger brother. 

Daemon felt that stroke a chord in his heart, she was in rough shape when he met her, she had numerous infections from men she had slept with to injuries she injured from men being too rough. One benefit of Daemon's aura quality increasing was it allowed his ability 'Poppy's embrace' to evolve. He could now heal through it though it would take a while and it couldn't be done on grievous injuries. Though Daemon wasn't naive enough to believe that he could save everyone from such a fate he still believed he could do his part and so at least once a week he would go around to those women and heal them of their injuries and infections through this eventually got bigger as the small folk learned of what he could do, so he healed those who asked and did so from dusk til dawn.

He walked down the streets of Kings Landing with a basket in hand, he smiled politely at the people he passed by, the guards however either scowled at him or looked at him fearfully. He wasn't surprised as he had run into the Gold cloaks quite often. He couldn't say that he cared too much about how they viewed him, most were corrupt and only interested in lining their own pockets with gold. His thoughts quickly turned away from such things and to the letter he had received from Lyanna. He had kept in contact with the girls constantly and she sent the letter to let him know how strong she had gotten and that she might even be able to give her brother Brandon a good fight. 

Lysa had not slacked off either, though she trained herself completely differently than Lyanna or he did. She focused on her natural talent to go unnoticed and turned it into a very real ability though the specifics were never mentioned. 

Daemon finally found himself on the docks and the smell of piss and shit from the city was washed away slightly by the salty sea air. Daemon believed he could see Elia's boat in the distance though he wasn't quite sure, Daemon had made it here before the formal escort had arrived with the wheelhouse so he took a seat on a barrel on one of the docks. He started playing around with his aura, activating it around his hand. One aspect of Aura he had trained diligently was the 'Alchemist Type' aura, though being a 'King Type' he wasn't that effective in that category. Though he didn't need to be the best he just needed to master what he could, and he did. His aura starts to shimmer as if the sun is reflecting off its surface, it then starts to turn blue and grows thicker, eventually his aura looks entirely like the water that was near him and his hand was engulfed in the transparent liquid. 

He then lets the water pool into the centre of his fist before he shot it into the water next to him, by now he had mastered all of the other aura categories to the level he could, he tried to go further beyond at times but found himself hitting a ceiling. However he is once again drawn out of his thoughts when he sees the ship is now close by and the Princesses escort had just arrived, it seemed they had tried to speak to him but he ignored them. 

He stands up and waits for the ship to dock ignoring the chattering of the guards and the servants who wait as well. Eventually, it docks and the ramp is laid down, he can't help but smile as the beautiful Princess of Dorne steps down onto the dock, she has tanned skin and long curly hair, and while she is quite skinny, her heavily pregnant belly makes her look a bit larger. Helping her down is her equally beautiful if not more so lady in waiting for Ashara Dayne, she was someone that Daemon liked, she was interesting and fiercely loyal to the princess. 

Daemon steps towards them "I hope your trip went well Princess" he said in a clear voice. Elia looked up and smiled realising who it was, she hobbled over and hugged Daemon, though he was careful not to put any pressure on her belly. 

“My Lord Silver it is good to see you” she says formally to him which makes him chuckle, she had always insisted he call her Elia which he struggled to do so to her back at him she would call him ‘Lord Silver’ which was as pomp a name as he’d ever heard. 

She looked around him and sighed "No Rhaegar?" She asked and he shook his head. 

"Deep in his book I'm afraid, tried to convince me to stay with him" he said with a chuckle. Even though her husband had not come to meet her Elia was still happy Daemon had come, she wouldn't like the Red Keep or feel half as safe as she did if not for him so her smile never left her face. Ashara smiled too as she saw Daemon and decided to try to embarrass him slightly by kissing him on the cheek. 

Used to her antics by now Daemon just smiled and shook his head "It's good to see you too Ashara"

"I do wish you could've come with us, it was incredibly boring, especially when this one spends her time eating," Ashara says with a humorous smile, Elia slaps her arm huffing indignantly. 

"I am carrying a babe, I must eat enough for two people, not all of us can live off the meals of septa" Elia replied. 

Ashara snorted "Two people? No, perhaps if you were carrying the next seven Kingsguard I'd believe it more" 

Daemon while amused interrupted them, they weren't entirely safe here and so he wanted to get them back to the Red Keep "Come Princess, I brought you a gift though I'll only let you have it once we're in the wheelhouse" he teased, Elia narrowed her eyes at him and then the basket that he had in his arms. 

Pretending to not be interested she holds her head up "Very well, let us retire to the wheelhouse, truth be told being on that boat made me ill" she says as she takes Daemon's offered arm, eying the basket he kept on the other side. 

Ashara walked beside Elia stifling a giggle, she knew her friend well and only ever since she had gotten pregnant only promises of sweet foods could placate her.

The servants and guards all bowed when they approached the wheelhouse, Daemon went up first to help Elia up inside and then Ashara after, he then slapped the side of the wheelhouse to signify they were ready to go and closed the door. As he turned around he was set upon by Elia who grabbed the basket out of his hand and uncovered it. 

Daemon chuckled as he saw her eyes light up at the lemon cakes and honey-sweetened milk, it was what she had craved ever since she had gotten with child, Ashara couldn't help but laugh as well as Elia ate the lemon cakes in a very unladylike manner as well as well as drinking from the pitcher, not even bothering to use a cup that he had provided. 

“Mayhaps I should arrest the crew of the ship for daring to starve the Princess on her trip” Daemon states sarcastically, Ashara chuckles at his joke however Elia glares at him while taking another bite of the lemon cake. 

Swallowing her food Elia looks at him with narrowed eyes “You should count  your fortunes that I am the one carrying this child, had it been Ashara she would’ve had you waiting on her hand and foot until the baby had been born” 

Daemon cracks a smile “So not too different than how she is now” he says with amusement, as he takes a seat opposite the girls. 

“Please I am not so bad” Ashara says with a small pout. 

Daemon raises his eyebrow “Sometimes I oft wonder which one of you is the Princess” he says jokingly however realises his mistake when both of them narrow their eyes in his direction, luckily for him the wheelhouse abruptly stops. 

Daemon quickly stands “I’ll go and check to see everything is well,” he says before quickly walking outside and leaving before he gets assaulted by the angry Dornish women in the carriage. 

Heading out he walks to the front of the wheelhouse “Is there a problem” he asks the coachmen. 

The coachmen looks back at him “There seems to be an issue my lord the path has been blocked, the guards are removing the blockage now” he states respectfully. 

Daemon frowned, he looked ahead and saw various carts and rubble that could’ve only been placed there. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, the route that the princess was to take today was meticulously planned so something like this couldn’t happen. 

His ear twitched and he sighed ‘So that’s the way it is…’ he thought to himself. He turned to the Kingsguard that had accompanied Elia on her trip, Oswell Whent, he had replaced Gwayne Gaunt after his death at Duskindale, he was a strong aura user though a bit hot-headed at times “Ser Oswell, it seems that we are about to have some company” he says to the Knight. 

The knight scowls “It never ends, I swear to the gods once I find the man orchestrating this I will tear him limb from limb!” he said maliciously. 

‘A bit hot-headed…’ Daemon thought to himself. 

“Please stay with the carriage Lord Silver I will dispatch these cretins in a few moments” Oswell states with a frown as he unleashes his aura, it was impressive by an average user's standards, stronger than Brandon’s had been when he faced them years ago. Oswell walked ahead of the carriage and signalled the guards to retreat to the carriage, he wanted to enjoy beating this fiend bloody, he wouldn’t even give them the satisfaction of using his sword. 

There was naut but silence on the road as Oswell stood there, his silver armour glistening in the sun and his white cloak blowing gently in the wind. Daemon had seen them before Oswell did but eventually, a few dozen men started to come out of various alleyways, some armed with swords others with small hatchets or knives. A shoddy ambush crew if he’d ever seen one, but the one who stood behind them in the centre was different, he held a large Warhammer, he was at least a foot taller than Daemon and was heavily muscled, the only expecting being his large fat belly. 

However, it wasn’t him who spoke it was a skinny frail-looking man at the front “G-Give u-us the p-p-princess or you’ll d-d-die” he stutters out clearly afraid of the silver-clad Kingsguard in front of him. 

Oswell laughs at the frail-looking man “Disperse now, or I’ll be forced to consider you all traitors and summarily execute you all!” He shouts so all can hear. 

No one moves nor do they say anything, Oswell smiles maliciously “So be it…”

As the first man charged, sword raised high in a futile attempt to strike down the Kingsguard, Oswell’s aura surged around him. With a swift movement, his fist met the man’s face, the impact a devastating collision that sent bone and flesh scattering in a gruesome spectacle. Blood splattered across Oswell’s armour and face.

The charged atmosphere erupted into chaos as the rest of the men followed suit, a chaotic wave of desperation and anger. Yet Oswell remained an unyielding pillar amidst their onslaught. With each strike and swing they made, he deftly evaded his movements into a symphony of grace and precision. Their rusty weapons clashed against his unbreakable defence, a futile attempt to breach the aura that encased him.

One man lunged with a rusty sword in hand, his attack a sloppy and desperate manoeuvre. But Oswell’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and cold determination. He channelled his aura with a deft motion, concentrating its power into his hand. As the sword made contact, it met an unseen force, and with a resounding crack, the blade snapped in two.

The man stumbled back, his weapon rendered useless, but there was no reprieve. In an instant, Oswell’s leg swung out, a swift kick that collided with the man’s chest. The impact was bone-crushing, a shockwave that caved in the fragile ribs and sent the man sprawling to the ground, life extinguished in an instant.

As the battle’s chaos continued to unfold, one man managed to break through Oswell’s defences, his hatchet striking true against the Kingsguard’s arm, though it did no damage at all. Oswell’s face contorted into a mask of cold fury, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that sent shivers down the spines of those who witnessed it.

His aura flaring with fury, Oswell seized the man’s arm with a grip that felt like iron. With a swift and brutal motion, he crushed the bone and sinew within, the man’s agonizing screams echoing through the narrow street like a macabre symphony.

With a snarl of rage, Oswell yanked the man forward, using his grip to propel him straight into his waiting fist. The impact was earth-shattering, a collision of flesh and bone that sent shockwaves of horror through the hearts of those who bore witness. The man’s body crumpled upon impact, Oswell’s fist having torn through him as though he were made of paper.

The chilling display of power left the remaining assailants paralyzed with fear. The once fervent cries of rebellion had transformed into gasps of terror, their resolve crumbling before the overwhelming might of the Kingsguard’s aura-infused strength.

Oswell’s laughter echoed through the chaotic scene, a chilling counterpoint to the desperate cries of the ill-prepared men who stood before him. His aura flared with an almost supernatural intensity, a testament to the power he wielded as a member of the Kingsguard. With each swing of his fists, his foes fell before him like leaves in a storm, their feeble attempts at resistance shattered by his overwhelming might.

As his battle rage surged, Oswell’s instincts sent a warning through his senses, a fleeting sense of impending danger that flickered too late. The realization hit him like a lightning bolt, but before he could react, a tremendous impact struck him from behind. The force was immense, a collision that sent shockwaves of pain radiating through his body.

The collision launched him forward, his powerful form hurtling through the air until he collided with a nearby building. The impact was jarring, the building’s structure quivering as he crashed into it, leaving a visible dent in the stone facade. The breath was knocked from his lungs, his vision momentarily swimming as he fought to regain his bearings.

Struggling to his feet, Oswell’s eyes narrowed as he turned his attention to his new adversary. The man who had struck him was unlike the others – his massive frame and bulging muscles spoke of raw power, while the aura that surrounded him was a clear indicator of his abilities as an aura user.

Daemon could’ve warned Oswell about the man, he had used ‘Suppression’ to sneak up on the Kingsguard before launching a surprise attack, however, he thought the knight could use some humbling. It was unlikely the man could beat Oswell anyway very few aura users could challenge a Kingsguard. 

“A good hit, though if the only good hit you make is while my back is turned I fear this fight may be boring” Oswell states as he stands up rolling his shoulders. 

The large man looks at him with a wild grin “I like you… Ben will make you his” he says as he licks his lips with a thick dark pink tongue. 

Oswell looks at him with disgust as he flares his aura once more, he doesn’t draw his sword yet not feeling the need to, this makes Daemon sigh as he’s acting too cocky while he’s supposed to be guarding the princess. 

 Oswell's charge was swift and decisive, his aura blazing around him as he closed the distance between himself and the man who called himself Ben. His fist pulled back, a coiled spring of force and determination, ready to unleash a devastating blow upon his opponent.

As his fist hurtled forward, it was met by the impact of Ben's Warhammer, a clash of power that sent shockwaves through the air. The two auras collided, their energies mingling in a volatile dance of strength and resistance. The force of the collision sent vibrations through Oswell's arm, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Ben's own aura flared in response, a fierce and hungry light that danced in his eyes. His lips curled into a chilling smile, his emotions a twisted tangle of rage, desire, and fear. The clash of their auras was a testament to the formidable power each possessed, a silent promise of the battle that raged beneath the surface.

With a surge of strength, Ben pushed Oswell back, the force of his aura-infused strike proving to be a formidable defence. Oswell stumbled slightly, the impact reverberating through his body. But he wasn't deterred. His own aura responded in kind, his determination a solid foundation as he squared his shoulders and met Ben's gaze.

Seizing the moment, Oswell unleashed another powerful punch, the impact landing squarely on Ben's belly. The force of the blow was undeniable, causing Ben to stagger and sputter as the wind was knocked from his lungs. The conflicting emotions that flickered across Ben's face only fueled Oswell's resolve, his own aura blazing with intensity.

But Ben was far from defeated. His enraged and determined expression only grew more pronounced, and with a sudden charge, he swung his aura-infused hammer at the ground. The impact shattered the road beneath them, sending debris flying as Oswell narrowly dodged the attack. Despite evading the direct hit, the force of the hammer's strike still sent shockwaves through the ground, knocking Oswell off his feet.

The unexpected sight of the large man soaring through the air took Oswell by surprise, his eyes widening in a split second of realization. With swift instinct, he rolled to the side just in time to avoid the impact that would have surely crushed him. The ground trembled as Ben’s landing shattered the road beneath him, a testament to the sheer force he commanded.

Before Oswell could fully recover his bearings, Ben surged forward once more, his massive form barreling into Oswell with the weight of a battering ram. The impact sent Oswell crashing into a wall, his body protesting against the force. Pain lanced through his back as the collision reverberated through him, momentarily leaving him dazed and disoriented.

But Ben wasn’t finished. In a show of incredible strength, he seized Oswell and hurled him toward another building, the impact of his body slamming into the structure leaving an echoing thud. Oswell grunted, his body protesting against the brutal treatment it had endured. Gritting his teeth, he fought through the pain, his resolve and determination rising even as his body bore the marks of the battle.

Rising to his feet, legs slightly shaky from the onslaught, Oswell’s eyes burned with pure fury. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the rush of adrenaline fueling his every movement. His pride had been wounded, and he was not one to back down from a fight.

With a swift motion, he withdrew his steel sword, its gleaming edge catching the light. Oswell’s aura surged around him once again, enveloping the sword in a protective shroud.

While this was happening the rest of the ambusher had the idea to attack the carriage as they still outnumbered the men guarding it. They approached with their weapons raised, Daemon who was leaning by the door to the wheelhouse looked at them with a sigh before unleashing his aura and infusing it with his malice, he was careful not to direct it towards his allies behind him nor Elia and Ashara, the ambushers stopped their approach almost immediately looking at Daemon as if he were the stranger come to take them. 

However much to Daemon's surprise they tried to push through ‘These aren’t common street thugs, nor are they sell swords… they look like common farmers’ he thought to himself as he inspected them. He wondered what situation they must be in if they were so desperate to attack the princess. Daemon had assumed that after Oswell crushed the first few men they’d all go running but they didn’t, though they certainly looked as if they wanted to. 

Daemon watched as the braver men pushed themselves further and further almost reaching the horses before they fell to the floor unable to continue. He didn’t want to kill them, they looked half dead already but he wouldn’t allow a single one to make it towards the carriage. Daemon once again found himself glad he had learned this high-level Aura technique, only those who have good control as well as a large reserve of aura can do it. Daemon looked back towards the fight between Ser Oswell and Ben, ‘He would’ve finished by now if he hadn’t been so cocky’ Daemon thought to himself. 

Oswell’s muscles tensed as he charged towards Ben, his sword raised high and ready for combat. The clash was imminent, and the air was charged with tension. As they met in a clash of steel and force, the sound of their weapons colliding echoed through the surroundings.

With a powerful swing, Oswell’s sword arced through the air towards Ben. The handle of Ben’s Warhammer rose to meet the blade, the impact sending reverberations through both their arms. Despite the force, Oswell’s resolve shone through, and he pushed forward with unyielding determination.

Ben, equally strong and unwavering, used the handle of his Warhammer to forcefully push Oswell back. The sudden movement caught Oswell off guard, causing him to stumble a few steps as he struggled to regain his balance. Seizing the opportunity, Ben swung his Warhammer downwards with the intention of crushing Oswell beneath its weight.

But Oswell’s response was unexpected, a testament to his skill and experience. Instead of evading, he held his ground. He raised his sword with unwavering confidence, the blade positioned to intercept the Warhammer trajectory. In a stunning display, he managed to swipe the warhammer aside, sending it crashing into the ground beside him.

Ben’s surprise was evident in his eyes, and Oswell wasted no time capitalizing on the opening he had created. His sword became a deadly extension of his will as he thrust it forward with remarkable accuracy. The blade found its mark, piercing through Ben’s shoulder with a sickening squelch.

A primal howl of pain erupted from Ben’s lips as the sharp agony radiated through his body. His grip on the Warhammer slackened as he staggered back, clutching at the wound. Oswell maintained his focus, his eyes locked onto his opponent. 

Even Daemon would have trouble blocking such a direct blow especially when the opponent was near equal in raw aura. However Oswell was different, he was a man who loved to fight and so he fashioned his ability to complement his nature. 

‘Perfect Counter’ 

It allowed Oswell to perfectly deflect blows that he might otherwise not be able to, however, he must have a sword in order to use the ability and it has to be a direct hit. It also does not work on attacks that are not solid enough for example an aura user using an ‘Archer Type’ attack. However, for most fights, this was an incredibly powerful ability that had on many occasions allowed Oswell to completely change the flow of battle. 

As Ben swung his hammer sideways, aiming to catch Oswell off-guard, he was met with a surprising response. Oswell’s swift reflexes and the keen edge of his sword intercepted the attack. With a precise movement, he parried the hammer over his head, expertly deflecting the potentially devastating blow. Ben’s eyes widened in disbelief at Oswell’s skill and resolve.

Oswell didn’t waste a moment. Seizing the opening he had created, he retaliated with a fierce slash of his sword. The blade cut through the air with deadly precision, leaving a deep gash on Ben’s face. A pained scream escaped from Ben’s lips as his blood mingled with the dirt beneath him. The shock of the wound was evident in his expression, but he refused to be defeated.

Flaring his aura with newfound determination, Ben swung his hammer downwards with all his might, the force of the blow creating a shockwave that smashed into the ground. The impact forced Oswell to step back, his feet skidding against the earth as he struggled to maintain his balance. The sheer power of Ben’s attack was undeniable, a testament to his formidable strength.

Seeing an opportunity amidst the chaos, Ben’s desperation took a twisted turn. He rushed toward one of the fallen bodies strewn across the battlefield. With an unsettling mixture of determination and madness, he lifted the lifeless form and brought it close to his mouth, an act that sent shivers down the spines of all who witnessed it.

‘Gluttony’

Bens's ability activated as he took a bite out of the dead man’s flesh, his aura-infused teeth and jaws grinding down flesh and bone as he tore into the man. It had only been a few seconds but Ben had almost finished half of the man’s body, while Oswell looked on in horror as blood spattered onto Bens's face and he sucked down his intestines like soup. However, with every bite he took his aura grew slightly and by the time he’d finished eating what amounted to 60 kilos of meat his aura was at least a 1/4 size bigger than it was before. 

Daemon's eyes widened ‘Not good…’ he thought to himself as he uncrossed his arms and flared his aura knocking out the ambushers who remained awake.

Ben with a wolf-like blood-covered grin on his face looked at Oswell, he was high off the rush of aura he had gotten from such a large meal, Though Daemon suspected it must be temporary as such an ability would be too powerful without limitations. 

Ben charged at Oswell surprising the man with his newfound speed and Oswell found he was unable to raise his sword in time and was hit directly with the aura-enhanced Warhammer slamming him across the road like he was a stone being skipped across the ocean. However, before Ben could follow up and inflict more pain on the Kingsguard he’s stopped when Daemon grabs his arm. 

Ben tries to pull his arm away but Daemon's grip is like iron and he finds himself unable to move it, he gets angry and uses ‘Flow’ to shift more aura into his other hand before unleashing a punch directed at Daemon's face.

Daemon shifts his head slightly and avoids the punch grabbing his arm and flipping him onto his back “It seems you’re not the average aura user I thought you were, tell me who you are and why you wish to take the princess” he simply states with a bored expression. 

Ben however just growls and goes to get up however Daemon raises his hand before firing his aura forward like a wave and forcing him down to the ground. The ground cracks as Ben attempts to force himself up but he seems to only sink deeper and deeper into the ground “Will you answer my question now?” He states, but all he gets in return is curses and threats, which he expected. 

‘I need to tell Simon and Smiley…’ he heard from the mind of Ben, though he couldn’t hear much else, even after all these years he still wasn’t good at reading people through his ‘Aura Tether’ only picking up stray thoughts. 

Daemon stopped emitting his Aura and Ben was no longer put under the strain of it, with a speed unexpected from a man so large he pushed himself up and rolled away, however when he came up from the roll Daemon was already there and he unleashed his first punch that was aimed directly at him, Bens's eyes widen and he holds up his Warhammer to block the hit however his fist forces down the hammer pushing it to his chest and they are both slammed into the ground. 

Ben struggled to catch his breath as the hit had broken a few of his ribs “I’ll kills ya and eats ya and play with ya body…” he spits out as he looks at Daemon from the ground. 

Daemon quickly jumps out of the way as he feels an attack come from behind him, turning around he sees an arrow that sticks out of the ground before it erupts into a large explosion of smoke. He flares his aura and causes it to explode outwards dissipating the smoke however he sees that Ben has gone, he uses ‘Scout’ only to feel two people leave the edge of his radius. He could chase after them but with Oswell down someone needed to protect the princess, he sighed and swept his hair back, he was going to have a bath when he got back to the keep. 

———————————————————-

“Ahhhh that’s much better,” he said to himself as he immersed his body in the scorching hot water of his bath. He had managed to escort the Princess back without any further issues, he told Rhaegar what had occurred and that it seemed to have been orchestrated, he said he had his doubt about the man known as Ben being the mastermind and told him of the second Aura user who had been there as well as mentioning the names Simon and Smiley. 

But he cast all of that out of his mind and decided to relax for now letting his muscles soak in the water closing his eyes he thinks about the upcoming tournament, he didn’t mention it in any of his letters to Lysa or Lyanna as he wanted it to be a surprise, it was also supposed to be kept a secret, what they planned to do was as good as treason and could get them all killed, though he wished he could be there to see Lyanna’s face when she learns of it, he had no doubt she would try to join the melee or the joust. 

He is brought out of his words when soft hands rub his shoulders and go around his neck laying on his chest “Does the Princess not require her Lady-in-waiting?” Daemon asked with his eyes still closed.

Ashara placed her head upon Daemon's shoulder and drew circles onto his chest “The Princess is sleeping, the consequence of eating a feast all to herself” she states getting a light chuckle out of Daemon as he opens his eyes. 

“You shouldn’t be here…”

“And why is that my Lord Silver” 

“I am betrothed, I do not wish to dishonour you or Lysa, your brother would also have quite a few issues too”

She traces her hands down further feeling his dense muscles “What is honour compared to the touch of a woman who loves you”

“And yet I find myself not able to reciprocate”

“Mayhaps you confuse me with those ditzy doe eyes ladies who so often litter the court with their presence” 

Daemon didn’t reply to that, because any answer he could give would be a bald-faced lie, it was impossible to meet Ashara and not find her lovely, but once you got to know her falling for her was inevitable.

“Do you wish for me to leave?”

“I do not,” he said as he leaned his head back rubbing it against her own. She removes her head from his shoulder and stands up, Daemon hears fabric hit the floor and gulps, he sees the slender body of Ashara step into the large bath, she has lightly tanned skin a slim stomach and an average set of breasts with dark nipples. She sits upon Daemon's thighs and cups his face, her eyes can only be defined as haunting, a soft purple that seems to glow ethereally. 

“I shan’t make dishonour yourself until you ask me to” she whispers as she leans in close to him not quite pressing herself against him, leaving a gap so they were barely touching. She let her face get close to his own as their lips barely brush against each other, their breath mingles together and Daemon barely manages to hold onto his composure, he had long since given up on controlling his cock, it had gotten stiff the moment she started drawing circles into his chest. Ashara felt his cock pressed against her belly but made no move to grind against it or touch it, in her little game he would have to take her himself or not at all. 

“You’re beautiful…” Daemon whispers to her as her lips once again brush closely to his. 

“Am I more beautiful than your betrothed?” She whispers back with a smirk. 

“I love the Sky and I love the Sea, you could not make me decide which I would want to go without” he replies much to her amusement. 

“Oh? So you cannot go without me?” She asked in a mock sweet voice. 

Daemon smiles “I cannot… you are one of the reasons I have not left this place” he whispered. 

Ashara moved back slightly and struggled to the point she shook slightly “Kiss me…” she says pleadingly. 

Daemon who equally struggles shakes his head “We both know it would not stop at a simple kiss”

Ashara sighs and finally closes the distance placing her body fully onto him, she couldn’t break him this time either. Her breasts and nipples pressed into his chest as she lay her head on his shoulder once more. She started tracing circles once more on his chest “One day you will break your honour for me as you did for the Queen, she whispers into his ear and kisses his cheek”

She then lays her head back down and they both enjoy the bath and each other's company until the water starts to cool and even after that, her naked body pressed against his own was something he savoured. It did amuse him somewhat that for years he had voluntarily subjected himself to the king's various tortures with no doubts but it only took the touch of a woman he cared deeply for to almost forget his honour. 

He did care deeply for Ashara but Lysa and Lyanna did not know of her and he did not wish to start something that they may be unhappy with, it would be unfair to all parties involved. He still dreaded the conversation he’d have to have with them about his night with the Queen, something he dared not put into any letters. 

Daemon notices that Ashara had fallen asleep and smiles before picking her up and lifting her out of the bath in a bridal carry, he takes her into his room attached to the bathing room and places her in his bed before covering her. 

He goes to leave but hesitates for a second, he turns around and pecks her on the lips, her lips felt softer than anything he’d ever felt and he wanted to stay like that forever. He removed his lips and dressed himself before slipping out of the room, he’d requested no one enter his room should he not answer a knock so he hoped it would be enough to hide her. 

He didn’t see the small smile that appeared on Ashara’s face when he left. 

———————————————————-

(One Month Later)

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” they heard Elia scream from outside, it made Daemon pale as he stood outside of the room with Arthur Dayne and Lewyn Martell, Elia’s uncle. 

Daemon looked to Arthur “Where is Rhaegar he should be here?” He asked and the Kingsguard just sighed. 

“He believes he has found what he is looking for and asked he not be distracted” Arthur replied. 

Daemon frowned and goes to walk passed him but is stopped when the man grabs his shoulder “Do you truly believe you’ll get him out of that library?” He asked and Daemon sighed before shaking his head and going back to his spot on the wall. 

“While he may be a good Prince he is a piss poor husband” Lewyn commented surprising Daemon, he had never heard a bad word about the royal family out of his mouth before now. 

Arthur claps him on the back “I know you’re worried but careful of your words, someone who is more paranoid may take them as treason” 

“She’s been in there for an entire day! And he has not shown once! His wife and child are at risk and he’s in the library reading old scrolls” he shouts with rage in his voice. 

Daemon puts his hand on the man’s shoulder “He should be here, but Arthur is right, careful with your words lest they be heard by the wrong people”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” she screams once again even louder, it makes Daemon want to rush in but they were practically ordered by Ashara and the Maester to stay outside, a bunch of lumbering knights wasn’t what she needed at the moment. 

The door opens and they all stand to attention, Ashara comes outside with tear-filled eyes, and her hands trembling as she tried to speak. Arthur grabbed them “Ashara what is happening,” he says sternly. 

She shakes her head and swallows her spit before speaking “It’s not good, the babe won’t come out, the Maester says they will both die unless he cuts the babe from her belly, I was told to ask Rhaegar” she says her voice shaking as tears pour down her face. 

Lewyn himself loses his composure and puts his hand to his mouth as his tears fall and he walks away leaning against the opposite wall “I’ll go, stay with Arthur” Daemon stated as he hid his true feelings behind a facade. 

He walked through the corridors to the library feeling like he must be in a dream, he did not expect Elia’s Labour to be so difficult, she handled carrying the babe well enough. He approached the doors to the library and opened them, he was hit in the face with the musty smell of books and parchment. 

He walked further and was met with the candlelight of Rhaegar as he closely studied an old parchment with more attention than he’d even given his closest friends. 

He walks up to the table and Rhaegar looks up at him and smiles “Ah Daemon, I’m glad you’re here, I am so close to making a breakthrough, it all started with The Pact on the Isle of Faces, I don’t know why I didn’t see it before-“

Daemon looks at him with an emotionless expression “Do you know your wife is giving birth at this very moment”

Rhaegar frowned at the interruption but let it slide “I am aware, Arthur let me know before he left, I wouldn’t be much help so I don’t see a reason to be there” 

Daemon couldn’t help but clench his fists, he would have thought that a husband would want to be there for his wife but he supposed Rhaegar wasn’t like other men “Your wife is dying and your babe might too, the Maester would like you to decide on whether he should cut into her belly to free the babe”

Rhaegar who had looked back down at the parchment didn’t even look up when he replied “Do it” he says without even thinking about it. 

Daemon grinds his teeth “Do you not think that you should be present? Your wife will die once he does so” 

“A sad affair but it seems the gods have decided it so and I am just a man so her death will not be changed by my presence. Please tell the Maester my decision on my behalf” Rhaegar states simply before going back to reading. 

Daemon clenches his fists and finds himself walking towards Rhaegar intent on punching him in the face and snapping him out of whatever kind ailment he had. 

“Daemon…”

“Would you please do as I asked…” 

Daemon found his rage dissipating as he calmed down, he nodded his head before he turned around and left the library heading back towards Elia’s chambers. He could still hear screams echo through the corridors of the Red Keep. 

When he arrived back in front of the doors to her chambers he found that Rhaella had come as she was concerned by the screams as well as the time it had taken for her to give birth. Stood with her was Ser Barristan who looked equally as worried, not even on the battlefield had he heard screams as loud as those that came from her chambers. 

They all saw Daemon approach and Rhaella frowned “Where is Rhaegar”

“He has asked me to convey his wishes to the Maester, and that the babe should be cut out, but stated his presence would not help as he would be too upset to see his wife in such a condition” Daemon lied though for what reason he didn’t know. 

He ignored any questions they might have and stepped passed them and walked into her chambers, Ashara followed close behind allowing Rhaella in before closing the door behind them. 

Daemon found his facade cracking slightly as he saw the pale form of Elia on her bed her hair wild and untamed, sweat pouring down her face, her legs spread open wide and the Grand Maester who looked tired himself was sitting on a chair looking lost. 

Daemon walked to the side of the bed grabbing a chair and sat next to Elia “You look well Princess” he said with a small smile as he takes her hand in his. 

Elia grunted in pain before returning a tired smile “It seems even now I can’t escape such titles” she says weekly. 

Daemon smiled as he laughed a bit though his eyes started to water, he turns to see Rhaella whispering while Ashara cries with her hands over her mouth. 

Elia sees it as well “I wish I could’ve been able to see my babe at least once…”

She then turns to Daemon “I don’t want to die” she says weakly as tears fall down her face. 

Daemon grips her hand tighter and tries to smile “You’ll be fine” he says. 

Elia smiles weakly “You are a good man Daemon… but that makes you a horrible liar”

“My Lord we must start now lest we lose them both,” the Maester said with a grin expression as he wielded a sharpened blade that he had heated over the brazier. 

Daemon feels his facade crumble as tears openly fall down his face, he feels Elia grip his hand tighter as she looks at the blade but she steels herself “I’m afraid Daemon… promise me you’ll stay” 

“Until the very end,” he whispers. 

Daemon had so many goals, he had planned to cast down the king and get married and have children, rebuild Duskindale and live there with Lysa and Lyanna and perhaps a few others. But as he looked down at the trembling form of Elia he found that those goals no longer mattered, he couldn’t sit there and watch his friend die. 

Rhaella and Ashara watched in horror as the Maester approached Elia and cut away the part of her gown that hid her stomach. They watched as the maester took his blade and made the incision towards the bottom, and they watched in shock as Elia did not scream out in pain, nor did blood rush out of the wound much to their bafflement. 

Elia most of all was confused as she no longer felt any pain at all, she didn’t feel the pain of the blade carving into her nor the pain from her contractions she looks over to Daemon who smiles at her “I told you it would be fine Elia…” he says shakily. 

All her questions and thoughts are thrown to the back of her mind when he says her name “You finally said my name” she said with a smile. 

However Elia is brought out of her thoughts when she hears Ashara scream, she looks towards her and sees her looking towards Daemon and so she looks back, she hadn’t noticed till now but blood was pouring through his pure white tunic soaking it while he tried to hold it. 

“I shouldn’t of worn white today,” he said in a joking manner. 

Ashara and Rhaella both run over to Daemon they move his hand away and lift his shirt, blood is pouring from a long incision at the bottom of his stomach, Rhaella gasps as she knows what this is “You stupid boy! Stop using it you’ll kill yourself!” She shouts pleadingly. 

Ashara did not know what was going on and cried while she attempted to hold his wound shut, blood spurting all over her hands. 

Daemon had used his healing ability on Elia. Healing abilities were 1 in 10,000,000 because they were risky and could more often than not harm the user, and in a world governed by self-interest, not many people would dedicate themselves to making such an ability. Daemon's ability had evolved to allow him to heal, however, the reason he didn’t use it on Grievous wounds was because they were all transferred to him no matter the wound. 

However he couldn’t bare to see Elia die and so he risked his life to save her, not many people could survive having their belly sliced open, but he knew he had a better chance than her. 

Elia looked to Daemon realising he must be the one responsible “Stop it… please, I don’t want this…” she says tearfully. 

“It will be fine I promise,” he says to her gritting his teeth through the pain, Ashara grabbed some of the maester's supplies and tried to stitch his wounds but the blood pouring out as well as her shaky hands made it too difficult. 

Elia goes to protest again but is distracted by the sound of crying, they all look towards the Maester who has in his arms a babe, he cuts the cord and wraps the babe in a blanket before approaching Elia and handing the babe to her. 

“A healthy young girl Princess,” he says with a smile. 

Elia forgets everything happening around her as she sees the baby girl with a fluff of dark hair upon her head and striking violet eyes, she had never felt as happy as she did right now as she stared at her babe. 

“What shall her name be” She hears Daemon ask from beside her in a strained voice. 

“Rhaenys… Rhaenys Targaryen” she says with a smile as she stares into the eyes of her babe. 

Now that the babe had been taken out Daemon grunted as he uses his ability to its full, it had taken masterful control of his aura and ability to allow Elia to be cut but not bleed out, now he used his ability to its fullest potential and her wound seemingly sealed by itself while Daemons opened up wider. 

He then used ‘Suppression’ just before he passed out from blood loss, he could only hope that his aura kept him alive as he slumped back in his chair the screams of the girls echoing in the background. 

———————————————————-

Daemon awoke in pain. It felt nostalgic as it had been quite a long time since he had been injured badly enough that he had to be confined to bed. He looked under the blankets and saw that his stomach had been bandaged, he lifted the bandages slightly and saw the cut scabbed over but still looking fresh, he got out of bed and stood. 

He carefully stretched his body not wishing to reopen his wound “Can’t imagine Lysa or Lyanna would’ve been happy if I’d died” he said much to his amusement. 

His body felt strong so he must’ve been out for less than a week, he slowly threw on a tunic and some breeches and boots. 

He hoped that Elia had recovered well and that the baby was healthy, he’d visit them soon but first, he had to get some food as he felt starved. 

‘And a bath too…’ he thought as he sniffed himself.

The corridors seemed pretty empty as he made his way through the Red Keep which he found strange. He finally made his way to the kitchen and found it empty which was even stranger. 

‘Mayhaps I did die, must have gone to the seven hells if my afterlife is Kings Landing’ he thought to himself as he grabbed some meat off a plate and started gorging on it, drinking from a pitcher of milk as well. 

After eating his fill he stood and left the kitchen only to run into Lewyn who looked surprised to see him, he then got a tear and pulled him into a hug which slightly hurt because of his wound. 

“Thank you Daemon! I had thought Elia lost! If you have any request Dorne will answer I make this guarantee!” He says rapidly speaking. 

Daemon grabs him and pushes him back slightly “Calm my friend, stop speaking such nonsense, the Princess is a good friend I do not seek to be rewarded for helping her” 

Lewyn wiped his eyes as he smiled “She said as much, but the offer will remain regardless” 

There were many things Daemon wished to ask “Where is everyone Lewyn? I have not seen a single servant since leaving my chambers,” he asked with some mild confusion. 

Lewyn’s good mood seems to disappear “The Red Keep was attacked a few days after you had fallen unconscious, a group calling themselves the Kingswood Brotherhood tried to kidnap the princess once again but were stopped by the Lord Commander, instead they kidnapped Lord Sumner Crakehall and a few other noble ladies. 

“Is the Princess okay?” He asked getting a nod back from the Kingsguard, which makes Daemon breathe a sigh of relief. 

“The King is putting all the Servants and guards who were on duty on trial, if he does not like their explanation he executes them on the spot” Lewyn says with a grim expression on his face. 

Daemon curses as he pushes his hair behind his ears and tries to think of what to do, though he finds himself coming up with nothing. But he walks towards the throne room anyway, with Lewyn following close behind. 

“What do you plan to do?” He asks with a look of confusion. 

“I’ll let you know when I find out,” he says with a smirk. 

———————————————————-

On a beachhead with thick trees stood around 100 men and women all armed with weapons and armour, they stood watching the sea as small boats crossed the bay of ice from the frozen wastes. 

“Your father would have me hanged if he knew I allowed his daughter to be here right now” Jorah Mormont stated with a worried look on his face. 

Lyanna cackled “Unless my father is on one of those ships you should cease your worrying, not like those weaklings could ever touch me,” she says as she claps him on the back forcing him forward slightly. 

Lyanna had grown to be fierce and beautiful her thick brown hair curling even more and her body becoming more robust with the amount of training she did, she had her usual wild grin on her face as she watched the wildlings come ever closer to shore. 

Her blood was rushing and boiling, she felt like she might explode if she didn’t start fighting right now “Mmmmm! I can’t wait anymore, I’ll go on ahead and you can join me!” She says as she sprints forward. 

“They haven’t even landed yet!” Jorah shouts out in disbelief as he watches her run straight towards the ocean. 

‘Her and her brother and the damn wolf's blood’ he thought to himself. 

“At least the Brother is on the other side fighting the Ironborn,” he said to himself with a sigh. 

Meanwhile, Lyanna who despite what Jorah thought was not going to swim out to fight them flared her aura. She took a deep breath before breathing out and using her ability. 

‘Winter Touch’

She had spent many years in the Gods Wood submerging herself in the pool that was said to have remained cold for thousands of years despite the natural hot spring that was underneath Winterfell. But the result of that was her being able to alter the temperature of her aura, though she expanded on this ability much more. 

The temperature dropped around her even more and she directed her aura outwards, she did this all while running not stopping for anything, and when she took a step that should’ve met the water of the ocean, it instead met solid ice as she directed her aura to freeze over the water in front of her as she made a path to the boats. 

The wildlings who were planning to raid and steal some women felt a bit confused and slightly fearful when they saw a woman running at them with a wild grin on her face. 

She gets to the closest shop before pooling aura to her legs and jumping high and grip kicking a wildling right off the boat. What followed was pure carnage as Lyanna punched, kicked and head-butted her way through the crew, even the few Aura users on the ship found themselves overwhelmed and voluntarily jumped off the boat lest they be killed by the mad woman. 

‘Winter is coming’ 

 She spreads out her aura using ‘Scout’ and forces the temperature to drop, all the ships in her aura find themselves freezing over, and only those who have Aura find themselves protected against the attack but others drop to the floor shaking or jump in the water only to find themselves freezing solid. 

The had mastered her ability to make things colder, now she wished to transfigure her aura into ice, but she struggled as she was a ‘Brute Type’ and it was a rather advanced technique.  

In a matter of minutes, a majority of the wildling raiding party was destroyed by only a single person, Lyanna frowned as she casually caught an arrow that was launched from a boat just outside her range, she enhanced it with her aura before closing an eye and aiming and then throwing it back full force. It completely pierces through the wildling and the ship behind him going into the water. 

Lyanna sighs as she sits on a barrel “I miss you so much…” she says to herself as she thinks of Daemon, her first-ever training partner and soon life partner. 

Once she sees him again she’ll definitely punch him for making her feel like a dumb maiden. 

———————————————————-

In complete contrast to Lyanna, Lysa was sitting on her own watching the sunset from the tower that she and Daemon often did, the wind blew through her auburn hair. Like Lyanna she had grown beautiful, though hers was more the perfect lady and not the warrior woman Lyanna was. 

Though not to say that Lysa wasn’t strong, she believed she was as strong as Daemon was when he left a Riverrun, which may not be much but she had not focused much on building on her strength than she had focusing on her ability. 

She sighs as she remembers the last time she and Daemon had shared this view, she then stands up before letting herself fall off the tower and grabbing a pole near the ground slowing her descent. 

She then started making her way to the room before she was grabbed, she turns around to see someone who she used to be friends with “Can I help you Petyr” she asks politely. 

“Your father denied me your hand in marriage… when I asked why he would not say, tell me,” he asks making her sigh. 

She couldn’t help but feel slightly bad for Petyr, ever since his match against Daemon he seemed to have struggled to get any better at Aura use, it was as if his aura reserves had just gone, even after so many years he had only just recently gotten back to the level that he was before “I had thought it was my sister you wanted?” She states hoping to change the subject. 

“Your sister was never my true goal, I had just hoped to make you feel jealous as it seemed you were not interested in me” He says exaggeratedly. 

‘Does he think I’m a simpleton?’ She wonders as she lazily looks at him, as he serenades her with all these sweet words, it was a shame they came from the mount of a serpent. 

‘Fools World’

Her aura was invisible to those that didn’t use ‘Focus’ it gave her an advantage so overwhelming in a fight that many wished they were blessed with it. She had developed this ability to its utmost, to even borderlines on being a ‘King Type’ ability but is mostly ‘Magician Type’. She uses ‘Scout’ to spread her aura out in a large dome. 

Within the dome she can manipulate whatever she wants, though this seems to be a godlike power it has some rather heavy restrictions. 

Everything conjured is an illusion and not solid, and she cannot attack anyone while the ability is active, meaning she is vulnerable to people’s attacks since her aura is spread so thin, one attack could kill her, she could also not move the dome when it is activated. Though apart from those stipulations she can do anything she wishes to. 

Like right now she conjured an illusion of herself and kept it in place listening to Petyr while she left, she could also make herself invisible, though it would only last until she left the dome, though it was large enough that she could make it inside the keep without any problems. 

Petyr cursed as Lysa suddenly disappeared as he was talking to her and kicked the ground almost falling over. 

While Lysa could’ve just said she was betrothed to Daemon, she didn’t wanna hear him bad mouth her love so she avoided the conflict together. 

She lay down on her bed thinking of the man who had stolen her heart so long ago.