Aziz is joined by returning guest Steven Attewell (of Race for the Iron Throne) to discuss the legendary Daemon Blackfyre. The man, the myth, the sword, the rivalries, the immense popularity. Comparisons to Robert and Renly Baratheon, Aemon the Dragonknight and more are included. The most Daemon-tastic episode of all time!
The primary topics in this episode:
- Born Under a Bad Name
- Becoming Blackfyre
- The Living Legend
- The Black Dragon Arises
Why, lad? You ask me why? Because Daemon was the better man. The old king saw it, too. He gave the sword to Daemon. Blackfyre, the sword of Aegon the Conquerer, the blade that every Targaryen king had wielded since the Conquest . . . he put that sword in Daemon’s hand the day he knighted him, a boy of twelve.
Raised at the Red Keep, this handsome youth was given the instruction of the wisest maesters and the best masters-at-arms at court, including Ser Quentyn Ball, the fiery knight called Fireball. He loved nothing better than deeds of arms and excelled at them, and many saw in him a warrior who would one day be another Dragonknight.
Daemon was the name Daena gave to this child, for Prince Daemon had been the wonder and the terror of his age, and in later days that was seen as a warning of what the boy would become. Daemon Waters was his full name when he was born in 170 AC.
King Daeron
There was no final insult, no great wrong, that led Daemon Blackfyre to turn against King Daeron.
Daeron was spindly and round of shoulder, with a little belly that wobbled when he walked. Daemon stood straight and proud, and his stomach was flat and hard as an oaken shield. And he could fight. With ax or lance or flail, he was as good as any knight I ever saw, but with the sword he was the Warrior himself. When Prince Daemon had Blackfyre in his hand, there was not a man to equal him . . . not Ulrick Dayne with Dawn, no, nor even the Dragonknight with Dark Sister.
Knights and lords of the Dornish Marches came to mistrust Daeron, and Baelor as well, and began to look more and more to the old days, when Dornishmen were the enemy to fight, not rivals for the king’s attention or largesse. And then they would look at Daemon Blackfyre—grown tall and powerful, half a god among mortal men, and with the Conqueror’s sword in his possession—and wonder.
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