Chapter Text
To,
The Man who Claims to be Dragon King
Gone are the days when I used to wonder what happened to the brother who used to take pride in our heritage. Who loved his family to the point where he would not tolerate any danger against them. Who, against all odds, became our protector when Mother and Father died, taking every bit of happiness of our family with them. Who promised to protect all of us. And then, I woke up and realized that all that was just a dream. That man never existed.
I should have realized that you were never a man worth following when you let our family be torn apart by the vultures. All my proclamations of love and loyalty were wasted on a man who is nothing but a craven, a coward. I shed my blood, sweat, and tears for a man's claim who would take and take from me but would never return anything—nor love, nor protection, not even an acknowledgment of my existence. To you, I was nothing more than a headache. I was worth nothing to you. My happiness, my life, and my sacrifices were nothing but your due. I was the younger, yet I became your shelter, your protector. I became your sword and shield, hoping against hope that one day, you would look at me with the same adoration and loyalty I have given you. I would be insulted, degraded, and exiled from my own home, yet I would still come back for you. Even after all of that, to me, you were everything.
I have heard you proclaiming your love for Cousin Aemma numerous times, but I always wondered if you were telling the truth. Because how would a loving husband gut his wife like fish on birthing bed to get a dead baby? Was she not enough? Were Rhaenyra and I not enough for you? Was Rhaenys not enough? Why is it that you get everything you want handed on a platter, yet we are the ones who have to face the consequences of your actions? Why is it that you get to please every lord, every noble of the realm, but at the expense of your blood and your family?
Why is it that you would take and take away from us, all for the sake of those snakes who would tear us apart? Who have already started feasting for our flesh and blood?
So be it. Live in your high castle and feast on our flesh. Live as the vultures feast on our flesh instead. Live and spawn bastards with that Andal beast you took to your bed mere months after your wife died. Disrespect our customs, our Gods, and your dead queen by taking the blood of an Andal who is nothing but a second son. A true King would never marry the spawn of a mere servant who would bring no riches, no alliances, no prosperity.
Your family, your true family, has always fought for you. We have bled to make your reign stable. I, Rhaenys, Corlys, Aemma, and now, even Rhaenyra will bleed for you while you go on siring mongrels on that Andal beast of yours. Creating dangers to her claims, sowing sparks of war in your own life. She would be cast down, too, just like all of us were, to protect your desires. She, too, would have to fight to overcome the obstacles you created for her, breaking your oath to defend her claim over the Iron Throne.
You are a plague to the Seven Kingdoms. Here we are, fighting your wars, while you would not even acknowledge how many had bled to make your reign peaceful. Driftmark has bled, Stormlands have bled. The mothers of their slain sons cry for vengeance. But you would sit on your arse, thinking that you are the one running this kingdom, yet we are the ones doing it for you. Protecting your reign from the threats from inside and outside, yet we are not even afforded that respect.
Well, no more. I will not waste my life away for a sheep who pretends to be a dragon. Who would tear apart his wife like a butcher for a dead baby. I will not give my loyalty to a man who never deserved it. I denounce you. I, Daemon of House Targaryen, son of Baelon "The Spring Prince," Targaryen, disown you. You are no brother of mine. You are no son of Baelon and Alyssa. You are no Targaryen. Father and Mother would be cursing the day they gave birth to you. You are nothing but a plague to House Targaryen.
May the Fourteen Flames curse you for sullying the Valyrian blood with Andal trash. May their blight be on you for breaking your oath to protect your wife, you oath breaker. May their curses be on the mongrels that would come of this unholy union. May the True Gods curse you and your Andal wife and any beast you would sire on her and your Andal servants and all of your lickspittles.
You will never be a Targaryen. You were never the Son of Baelon the Brave. All you are is a curse to his name, to his legacy. You will never be a dragon. I am a dragon, and I refuse to bow my head to a sheep that is nothing but a plague to my family, to my blood. I acknowledge no king. The only one I will bow my head to is Queen Rhaenyra, the First of her name. Long may she reign.
Daemon,
The Scion of House Targaryen