Reunion on an old road, hidden currents of worldly ties

Reunited on the familiar road, worldly ties subtly resurface.

The morning light on Duskendale Road carries the unique warmth of the Crownlands, spreading over the wheat fields and low forests on both sides, turning the gravel on the road into a warm yellow.

Daemon's entourage galloped along the road, the sound of horses' hooves pounding the stone slabs steady and powerful, mingling with the occasional laughter and chatter from within the ranks, breaking the tranquility of the wilderness.

The accompanying private army marched in neat formation, their flags fluttering in the wind. The three-headed dragon pattern, a variant of the dragon, with its crimson and jet-black markings, stood out vividly in the morning light, signifying both the mission to conquer the Iron Islands and the anticipation of a reunion on the way home.

As the group traveled along the main road to the outskirts of Maidenpool, they could see a group of people standing by the roadside in the distance.

The man at the head of the group was dressed in Riverlands- style steel armor, with the crest House Mooton a red salmon embroidered on Maidenpool chest. He was none other than John Mooton, Earl Maidenpool, the half-brother of Myles Rivers.

Beside him stood his wife, Lady Freyana, dressed in a light blue gown, her smile gentle. Several servants followed behind, carrying water pouches and barley cakes, clearly waiting there on purpose.

"Myles!" Jonah Mooton spotted Myles, the half-brother he had raised, in Daemon's team, and a genuine smile flashed in his eyes. He quickly stepped forward.

Myles, who was in the group, was having his usual arm wrestling match with Tybolt Crakehall beside him when he heard that familiar voice. He suddenly let go, and the playful unruliness on his mature and rugged face vanished instantly. He quickly spurred his horse and rode forward to meet him.

He dismounted rather hastily, his boots splashing mud on the grass, a departure from his usual carefree manner.

They look completely different.

"Brother." Myles's voice, now more mature, carried a barely perceptible hoarseness as he reached out and hugged Jonah tightly.

This man, now known among Daemon's followers for his battle axe, stood ramrod straight with his eyes slightly red.

Jonah patted his back firmly, "You must be tired from your journey. I heard you did a lot of good work with His Highness Daemon. If your father were watching from heaven, he would be very proud of you."

He turned to look at Daemon, who was walking slowly towards him, and bowed. "Daemon Highness Damon, Jonah Mooton is deeply grateful for your care of my brother."

Considering the need to ensure the team's progress, Daemon, at the strong suggestion of his teammates while still on the rugged Crab Claw Peninsula, rode a dragon and displayed his dragon might to the people of the peninsula. Once they left the peninsula and arrived at Rook's Rest, Daemon began to ride horses with his warriors, just as he had done in his previous life when dragons were extinct and there was no dragon war.

At that moment, Daemon arrived at the front of the group, reined in his horse, Blackfyre slung across his waist, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "Myles is a rare and fierce general, as well as a loyal follower. We simply support each other."

Lady Freyana stepped forward and offered a water pouch and some wheat cakes. "Your Highness, Myles, and all the gentlemen in Your Highness's entourage, you must be tired from your journey. Please have some refreshments to tide you over. A feast has been prepared in Maidenpool. If Your Highness does not mind, you may rest for a while before continuing your journey."

Myles took the water pouch, but did not drink it immediately. She just looked at Jonah with a complicated expression in her eyes.

He was the illegitimate son of the Mooton Household and was raised by his father in the village from a young age. After his father's death, he thought he would live out his days alone. However, Jonah disregarded the criticism within the family and followed his father's last wish to bring him back to the castle. He also had the family's the Smith teach him the craft of blacksmithing. Later, when Daemon was traveling through the area, Jonah did not hesitate to introduce him to the prince who could change his destiny.

"Brother, sister-in-law," Myles's fingers unconsciously rubbed the water pouch, "This time, accompanying His Highness on the expedition to the Iron Islands, our return is uncertain. We'll need to trouble you to take care of things at home."

"Go with peace of mind." Jonah patted his shoulder. "I'll take care of things at home. You continue to serve His Highness well, and don't disgrace the Mooton Household. Remember, no matter what, Maidenpool will always be your home."

These words made Myles's throat tighten. He nodded vigorously, but deliberately avoided Jonah's gaze as he turned around and quickly returned to the group.

Tybolt patted his arm and grinned, "What's wrong, getting all sentimental with your older brother?"

We didn't decide a winner in our arm wrestling match, shall we have another one?

Myles punched him hard, but the tears in her eyes hadn't faded. "Fine, let's fight! I'm not afraid of you!"

The two immediately struck a pose by the roadside, drawing bursts of laughter from the surrounding soldiers. The previous warmth was overshadowed by this cheerful remark, yet it left a warm feeling in everyone's heart.

Once the group resumed its journey, it continued along the Duskendale Road.

As the silhouette of the Staghorn Castle came into view in the distance, the atmosphere within the group subtly shifted.

Jarman Waters rode silently in the middle of the procession, staring at the road ahead with one eye, his expression growing increasingly somber.

Harlan Hunter and Larys Strong used to tease him, and he would always respond no matter what they said. But now, no matter how Harlan and the other man tried to talk to him, he just nodded silently, as if an invisible barrier surrounded him.

Larys Strong, riding his grey donkey "Mr. Longlegs," slowly approached Jarman, his one eye narrowing with his usual slyness. "What, now that we're at home, you're all silent? Don't you have anyone in the Buckwell Household Clan of Staghorn Castle you want to see again?"

Jarman tightened his grip on the reins, his voice low and somber. "My family isn't there."

He was an illegitimate son of the Buckwell Household Clan and was disliked from a young age. If Daemon hadn't discovered his archery talent during his travels and taken him under his wing, he might still be struggling at the bottom of society.

After all, he was given to Daemon as a squire as if he were a gift, but in any case, he had to be grateful for that encounter today.

Bastards in Westeros often have tragic fates. Unlike Mithril, who had a half-blood brother like Myles to accept him, or Prince Daemon, who was of noble birth and could tame dragons and prove himself worthy of the House Targaryen's affection and his noble dragon bloodline with Dragonfire.

The tolerance shown towards bastards in places Dorne, with its "open-minded" culture, and the foolish Duke of Highgarden in Reach who kept his "wild rose" by his side, were ultimately a minority. Most bastards could only struggle to survive amidst discrimination and prejudice, and even knowing who their father was was a luxury.

Harlan Hunter patted him on the shoulder, trying to ease the tension. "Don't overthink it. We're with His Highness; Dragon's Roost Port is home."

Jarman did not respond, but instead cast his gaze into the distant wilderness, his single eye concealing a hidden pain unknown to anyone.

He had long been accustomed to wandering, accustomed to keeping his thoughts to himself. For him, the Staghorn Castle was nothing more than a past he did not want to look back on.

Just then, Myles rode up and patted Jarman's arm, his tone teasing. "What are you envious of? There's a girl waiting for you in our Riverlands Oldstones!"

These words struck like a thunderbolt, instantly shattering Jarman's silence.

He turned his head sharply, his one eye wide open, and his ears instantly turned red, as if they had been burned.

Everyone has forgotten that this ruthless leader of the Dark Blade, who now kills without blinking an eye for Daemon, once had those youthful, innocent stirrings of the heart.

That was when Daemon was touring the Riverlands, and his party passed through the abandoned Oldstones. At that time, Walder Frey, the third son of Frey Household Frey, after failing to coerce or bribe them, led his men to harass and plunder the city disguised as bandits, driving Lady Ala, the granddaughter of the local minor lord Sir Lychester, to the brink of despair.

It was Jarman who shot an arrow through that disgusting Walder Frey, saving Miss Ala from being violated by Frey's stinky fish.

Later, after Jarman, with the help of Larys, helped His Highness and the local residents to "dispose of the bodies" of Walder Frey and his party, he left. Miss Ala sewed a grey eye patch for Jarman overnight, embroidered with the House Lychester's claw pattern.

Jarman had killed and bled before, but he had never been so embarrassed. He blushed as he accepted the blindfold, too ashamed to even say thank you.

"That's right! Our Highness's ' Dark Blade ' Lord Jarman, have you forgotten Miss Ala from Oldstones?"

Colin Celtigar laughed and egged him on, the scene from years ago still vivid in his mind.

"He's a heartless bastard! He must have forgotten!" Rupert Crabb shouted, drawing laughter from the crowd.

Arad House Royce and Jorvik House Royce, Harlan Hunter, and others chimed in, and even the usually composed Lyonel Corbray couldn't help but smirk.

Larys continued slowly, "You heartless bastard, you haven't really forgotten our Miss Ala from the Riverlands, and that she's taken a fancy to Rayford's sister, the one you helped receive when she came to visit him in Dragon's Roost Port last time, have you?"

"Nonsense!" Jarman exclaimed, both flustered and embarrassed, glaring at Larys with his one eye. "I didn't!"

He subconsciously touched the blindfold on his face. The gray fabric had long been worn soft, but the carved claw patterns on it were still clear. It was a treasure he always carried with him.

Rayford Rosby, standing nearby, was doubled over with laughter. His sister had often teased him in her letters after she left, calling him a one-eyed but still handsome and incredibly kind-hearted brother, "Jarman, if you really like my sister, I'll go back and help you find a match after we get back from the Iron Islands!"

"Rayford!" Jarman was both angry and amused, making a move to hit him. The laughter in the group grew louder, and the previous oppressive atmosphere was swept away. Even the wind in the wilderness carried a warm feeling.

As the sun set, the group arrived at Rosby. This small town in northern King's Landing was not prosperous, with wooden and mud huts everywhere, and churches, vegetable gardens, apple orchards and barley fields scattered around. The open space beside the main road was just right for setting up camp.

In the distance, the outline of Rosby could be vaguely seen in the twilight. The area in front of the castle was already crowded with people, with Rayford's father, Earl Rosby, at the head.

"Father!" Rayford's eyes lit up when he saw his father, and he spurred his horse forward.

Earl Rosby, dressed in a dark brown robe, his hair already streaked with gray, was overjoyed to see his son return safely. He hurried to greet him, exclaiming, "Rayford, you're finally back!"

Closely following behind was Rayford's elder brother, Gyles, clad in silver armor, clearly having just arrived from the training grounds. The House Rosby crest on his chest gleamed. "Brother," he said, "I've heard you've performed many meritorious deeds under Prince Daemon. Well done!"

The most excited of all was Isabella, Rayford's sister who had just been mentioned. She was wearing a light pink dress, and the moment she saw Rayford, she dropped her flower basket, rushed over, and hugged him tightly. "Rayford! You're finally back! I thought you wouldn't show your face until after the Iron Islands were over!"

Rayford was held tightly in his sister's arms, his face full of smiles, but his eyes were slightly red. "Sister, I'm back now, aren't I?"

This heartwarming scene captivated Jarman, who was standing beside him, and a hint of envy flashed deep in his one eye.

He thought of Miss Ala in the Oldstones, and the eyepatch embroidered with eagle claw patterns; the hidden pain in his heart was gradually replaced by a touch of tenderness. Perhaps, he wasn't entirely without anything.

Daemon reined in his horse, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he gazed at the scene of reunion before him. Earl Rosby turned and bowed, saying, "Your Highness Daemon, you must be tired from your journey. A feast has been prepared at the castle; please, Your Highness, move to rest."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Earl." Daemon nodded in agreement. Knowing that the castle could not accommodate the thousands of private soldiers and followers who accompanied him, he instructed, "Rayford, you take everyone and set up camp outside the city, and make proper arrangements for food and lodging."

Lyonel and Rupert are on guard duty; Jarman will continue to monitor the surrounding area.

The rest of you will rest for one night and depart for King's Landing early tomorrow morning.

"Yes, Your Highness!" the crowd responded in unison.

Reluctantly bidding farewell to his family, Rayford turned to arrange camp matters.

Isabella watched his busy figure, walked to Jarman's side, and said with a smile, "Lord Jarman, it's been a long time. Since I returned, Rayford has often mentioned you in his letters home, saying that your archery skills are superb and that you are His Highness's most trusted Dark Blade."

Jarman was taken aback by Isabella's initiative and felt a little embarrassed. He quickly bowed and said, "You flatter me, Miss. I was just doing my duty."

"So, according to Rayford, you once saved a lady from the Riverlands?"

Isabella's eyes held curiosity; she had clearly heard Rayford mention it quite a bit. After all, Rayford, who had spent a lot of time with Larys, had picked up quite a bit of cunning, and he might not really want Jarman to become his brother-in-law.

"Once this war is over, we should go visit her in Oldstones. We can't let her down."

Jarman's ears inevitably turned red again, and he stammered, unable to speak, which drew another burst of laughter from Myles and Tybolt beside him.

Daemon followed Earl Rosby into the castle. The interior wasn't luxurious, but it had a warm and inviting atmosphere.

A warm fire burned in the hall, and the long table was laden with roast meat, bread, fruit, and wine, filling the air with the aroma of food.

Earl Rosby sat in the main seat, accompanied by Gyles and Isabella, and frequently toasted Daemon, inquiring about the construction of Dragon's Roost Port and the war in the Summer Isles.

"Your Highness's great victory over the Ironborn Clan in the Summer Isles, rescuing the people, is truly a meritorious deed."

Rosby raised Earl glass and said, "Now that the Iron Throne has called for a campaign against the Iron Islands, with Your Highness leading the army, we will surely win in one battle."

"You flatter me, Earl." Daemon took a sip of wine. "The Ironborn's atrocities are well-documented, and their defeat is a shared desire of the Seven Kingdoms. The purpose of my trip to King's Landing is to discuss countermeasures and completely eliminate the threat posed by the Iron Islands."

During the conversation, Gyles brought up the situation in King's Landing: "Your Highness, I King's Landing some friends in King's Landing. There are some undercurrents King's Landing recently. Although Lord Otto Hightower has stepped down Master of Laws, he still holds a seat in the Small Council and his connections with the Reach are becoming more frequent, as if he is plotting something."

A cold glint flashed in Daemon's eyes. He was already aware of Otto's scheme. This trip to King's Landing was not only to conquer the Iron Islands, but also to have a good meeting with this old rival.

"Thank you for informing me. I know what I'm doing," he said calmly, his tone carrying an undeniable authority.

As night deepened, campfires were lit in the camp outside the castle. Soldiers chatted and laughed around the fires, and the aroma of roasted meat and the rich scent of ale filled the night air.

Jarman sat alone by a campfire, rubbing his blindfold in his hand, gazing at the distant starry sky, his eyes filled with longing.

Myles brought Tybolt over and handed him a jug of ale. "What are you thinking about? Are you thinking about Miss Ala?"

Jarman took the beer, took a sip, and a rare smile appeared on his lips, "After we finish conquering the Iron Islands, I want to go and see Oldstones."

"That's more like it!" Myles patted him on the shoulder. "We can't let people down. Like my brother said, everyone needs a home."

o

Not far away, Larys, leaning on his cane, watched this scene, a hint of a smile flashing in his one eye. He walked over to Rayford and said softly, "Your sister's certainly helpful, setting up Jarman."

Rayford, mimicking Larys's sly smile, said, "That's just how Isabella is; she can't stand seeing others alone. Besides, Jarman is a good man and deserves Miss Ala. You two can chat first. His Highness just told me I can go back to the castle for the night!"

Upon hearing this, Larys immediately put on a fawning smile, "No, my dear brother, have you forgotten the days when we worked side by side in His Highness's study, handling documents together?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten, but His Highness also instructed me not to let that guy Larys follow us, lest his ' Mr. Longlegs ' sneak into your kitchen to steal food." Before completely disappearing into the night, Rayford turned his head and winked to indicate that this was all his Highness's instruction.

After all, who told the "kind-hearted" and "noble" Prince Daemon Blackfyre to also be corrupted by that sly "Clubfoot" Larys?

"No! Can't Your Highness be a little more understanding of me, a disabled person born with a disability? Besides, if you don't like Mr. Longlegs, you can just not bring him! Why are you treating me like this? By the Old and New Gods, and by the gods of Old Valyria! Give me back the considerate Your Highness you once knew!"

Larys's "miserable" lawsuit hovered over the camp, and the campfire gradually grew brighter, illuminating the laughing faces of everyone who heard it.

Bethany Hightower sat in the corner, gazing in the direction of King's Landing, her eyes filled with anticipation.

She felt a mix of excitement and complicated emotions as she thought about meeting her uncle Otto Hightower, her cousin Alicent Hightower, and her younger brother Mund Hightower.

She knew her uncle harbored deep hostility towards Daemon, and she had long been obsessed with the secrets surrounding Daemon; this trip to King's Landing was destined to be anything but peaceful.

Colin Celtigar chatted with Lyonel and Rupert, their conversation revolving around their soon-to-be-met uncle Bartimos Celtigar and cousin Clymont Celtigar.

Having been raised by his uncle, he was filled with high morale as he reunited with his family and participated in the great battle to conquer the Iron Islands.

Daemon stood on the castle terrace, gazing at the camp below and the distant starry sky.

The night breeze carried a chill, but it couldn't dispel the determination in his eyes.

This journey to King's King's Landing is not only the starting point for his response to the Iron Throne's call to conquer the Iron Islands and to put his ambitions into practice, but also the battlefield for further clashes with Otto, and the return journey to reunite with his family.

The road ahead may still be full of thorns, but as long as he has his loyal followers, his beloved, and the protection of Dragonfire, he will surely be able to clear all obstacles and let the name of Blackfyre resound throughout Westeros.

In the distance, King's Landing was already lit up with lights, like a sleeping behemoth awaiting the coming Storm.

Daemon gripped the Blackfyre tightly, a sharp glint in his eyes; his legend continued.

The epic war between the Seven Kingdoms is about to begin.