This chapter has been beta'd by CruelRuin
Chapter - 1
King's Landing.
A city built on blood, tears, and poisoned lies. A city that had withstood not one, but two great wars, and still stood strong. The city that housed the great throne of Iron. Forged from the swords of those who fell in battle. Licked by the flames of wyrmkind, and fashioned into a seat that all coveted, but few possessed the will to achieve. A city, that this day, would see the birth of a new emperor. Would witness the bloody beginning of a new regime, and would burn in the flames of a war soon to end in a victory so pyrrhic, many would call it madness.
It was truly a sad day, when the reason for this madness was none other than the very King and his Court.
The man who sat on the Iron Throne had the responsibility to take care of the wellbeing of all the people in the Seven Kingdoms. From the Lords to the common folk were his responsibility and his decree. In this way, the throne was almost sacred in its nature, and just like anything sacred, a lot of blood had been spilled over it over the centuries.
But never had it been done in such a brutal and stomach-churning way. Everything the great Targaryens built amounted to this, just a worthless pile of piss and shit. Aegon Targaryen must be turning in his grave to see his beloved city, his crown jewel, reduced to this…
Distinct wailing of women and children could be heard across the city. It didn't take a Maester to realize that almost every woman in King's landing were being forced into doing unspeakable things. Innocent children were being murdered right in front of their mothers, while they themselves were forcefully claimed taken by men, turned into beasts by the fuel of conquest.
This was truly the sacking of King's Landing. And to think something this horrific occurred over a single woman. The great city was brought to its very knees over a damned woman. If the consequences weren't so dire, then the situation would've been comedic rather than tragic. Women who held no power in their totalitarian society brought almost a three hundred old regime to its end. It was seemingly hilarious… as long as you weren't on the receiving end of it.
Some would say the beginning for this nightmare-given-life was when Rhaegar Targareyn crowned Lyanna Stark 'Queen of Love and Beauty'. While others would simply say it was because men like Rhaegar Targaryen and Robert Baratheon simply couldn't keep their dick in their pants. Whatever the reason was, it was the realm that suffered. Lacerated by the prongs of war. Stranded, and left to rot.
It's true what they say. women bring out both the best and the worst in men. And this, this, was definitely the worst.
Elia Martell, wife of Rhaegar Targaryen cursed her husband to the high heavens with her very being. Thanks to him, she was forced to stay in the Red Keep by her own father-in-law, Aerys Targaryen. He gave the banal reason her confinement to the castle was all a byproduct of her pregnancy. But anyone with half a brain knew the real reason behind her seemingly-innocuous imprisonment.
It was done with the explicit purpose to prevent Dorne from rebelling against the King in the war, to gain their absolute loyalty. For someone who had the moniker of 'Mad King', he surely made a calculative and cold-blooded decision when it came to her family. After all she was the only princess of Dorne. Her brothers would never risk the wrath of the 'Mad King' when she could be put into such mortal danger by their rebellious actions.
It wasn't meant to end like this, Elia raged in her mind. She was meant to be the Queen of Westeros, ruling the Seven Kingdoms alongside her husband. But now she was reduced to nothing more than a political hostage, a pawn to be used by the Targaryens as they saw fit. How depressing. She mused, her downcast eyes dulling her prideful visage.
Making it worse, her dreams were crushed by her own husband. Her 'supposed beloved' who should have been there for her all the way had left her for Lyanna Stark without a second though, Inciting this ridiculous war. It was bearable, after all they didn't marry out of love Their union was merely political. But he didn't just leave her, he also discarded his own children to a fate so undetermined, as if they were nothing more than bastards. She would never forgive him for that. Never! Not in this life or the next!
She had given birth to little Rhaenys and Aegon for him at a very personal cost. The birth of Aegon had wrecked her body leaving it weak and frail. Grand maester Pycelle diagnosed that she would never give birth again. The thought almost broke her heart. He said that if she ever got pregnant again, the fetus would kill her before it even came into this world.
She was reduced to a weak woman not just mentally, but also physically; just thinking about it made her jaw clench and her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. She hated feeling weak. She had felt weak the day she was born, and that feeling had never truly gone away. She always lacked the strength to do even the simplest of tasks. Her brother said it was because she was born prematurely, nevertheless that only served to make her incrementally furious. 'Was all this worth it, Rhaegar?' she couldn't help but ask herself.
Her eardrums hurt as she listened to the furious, yet sharp clangs of clashing steel beneath the expansive halls of Red Keep. They were coming for her children, she knew that. Maybe to use them as hostages or to simply kill them. She couldn't allow either of those things to happen. Not even over her dead body. The footsteps drew closer, each thud raising the terror she felt incrementally.
'I have to keep Rhaenys safe!' Elia thought frantically, steeling her resolve. She would be damned if she let anything happen to her baby girl.
"Rhaenys! Get under the bed right now!" Elia screamed, her desperation evident. Before her daughter could even mutter a word, she was shoved under the bed by her frantic and fearful mother.
Elia rushed to the doors of her chambers, intending to close them as tight as possible. She feared the worst. If someone managed to get inside her chambers, if something were to happen to Rhaegar, his children and her would become even more of a target than before. She simply couldn't, wouldn't, allow that to happen.
Just as she slammed the last bolt, the entire door shook violently. Half of the bolts which she had closed mere moments ago broke from their very hinges, like they were made of glass instead of thick, dense metal. Elia refused to budge easily, giving everything she had in her tiny body and she push back hard.
'Please go away…!' Elia Martell pleaded to the heavens through strained breaths, hoping that the Seven would hear her plea. But it was simply not meant to be. With a last, forceful push, the door split into two, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere.
The impact made Elia Martell lose her footing as she went flying, some of the wooden splinters managed to pierce her abdomen and her arms eliciting a pained scream. Tears started to stream down her eyes as blood began to stain her gown. She teared up in her agony.
"Look what we have here!" A mocking voice made his presence known. A man entered, wearing the armor donned by common infantry. He was portly and had a pale piggy face with scrutinizing eyes, radiating unchecked menace. "If it isn't the beautiful, helpless princess of Dorne!" he mocked, displaying his grotesque, yellowing teeth.
Elia took a good look at the man and resisted her urge to vomit. He was staring at her with such unrestrained lust that it immediately made her feel dirty. She had heard about this man before, albeit in a third hand manner from the tales shared by her handmaidens. This man was none other than Amory Lorch. She refused to show her fear and give this bastard any satisfaction. She would endure, like she had always done.
But even she could not help but visibly shudder when a second figure slowly made his way into her chambers, ducking to make it possible for his gigantic frame to make it through. His every step seemed to shake the very earth. The man was huge, even by the standards of the tallest northerner she had ever seen; eight feet of pure grit and muscle. To make matters even worse, the man wore armor as thick as a dragon's hide to over the entirety of his being. He looked more akin to a giant than a man.
Everyone in Westeros knew who this man was. The infamous 'Mountain who rides'. Ser Gregor Clegane. A man knighted by her very own husband. Even though he had raped and killed on his way to becoming a knight. He was an infamous, cruel and sadistic individual. No one dared to cross the path which he rode on.
This man now strode towards Elia at a leisurely pace. His long steps making up for the differential in speed. She tried to back away from him, a whimper escaping her tightly-sealed lips. But her feeble and injured body was simply incapable of putting up with such a strain. However, she held no illusions of getting away if she was uninjured. No matter what people thought of the Mountain, one thing that didn't change was that the man knew how to hunt and fight. He practically lived for it!
The giant Clegane lifted her off her feet like a ragdoll, pulling her roughly from the back of her neck. He closed the distance between their faces and gave her a long, dirty stare. His hands started to languorously roam under her gown, squeezing her breasts in a rough gesture meant purely for his sadistic satisfaction. She felt his putrid breath over her neck and shivered in despair.
Elia gave out a cry, proclaiming to the world her desperation and dismay. She didn't want to be taken by this beast. She could still feel the fear radiating from her child. She had an inkling of what was in store for her children when they were done with her. And it wasn't the comparatively kinder fate of a hostage. Else, it wouldn't be the Mountain who would have made his way to her.
'I don't want anything, just save my baby girl!' Elia screamed out to both the new and the old Gods. For the second time in a span of few minutes, she pleaded.
But they didn't answer to her prayers, they never had, and they never would.
Amory Lorch continued to watch, his lecherous eyes roaming over the women's body as she was molested by the hulking man. He was about to join the fun the Mountain was partaking in when he heard a shrill, squeaking sound. Specifically, the sound of someone young, whimpering. It was the voice of a child, coming from under the bed.
He had been ordered by his liege lord 'Tywin Lannister' to kill all the royal children. He didn't know the reason behind it nor did he bother to ask them, but he was going to do it anyways. With that thought in mind Amory rushed under the bed and pulled Rhaenys Targaryen from her hiding place roughly. The little girl couldn't help but squeal because of the pain.
Elia watched helplessly as her daughter was dragged around. Her horror mounted when Lorch took out his sword and swung at her child. "Nooooo!" a scream tore itself out from her throat even as she was molested, which earned her a ringing slap to her face, courtesy the Mountain. She tried to run towards her daughter but was caught by the giant once again as he started to tear at her clothes. Elia didn't care, she only watched in terror as the sword descended slowly towards her daughter. It would take only one strike to kill her, and she could do nothing to stop it.
"That's enough!"
An authoritative voice echoed in the confines of Elia Martell's chambers. Forcing both the Mountain and Amory to stop in their tracks and face the guy who had the sheer gall to stop them. The little girl, during the brief moment, managed to scramble off to her mother, who was now hugging her for what she was worth.
"Fuck off from here you little runt and I'll think twice about smashing your puny head in." For the first time, the Mountain spoke. His voice gruff and enraged. The Mountain wasn't just pissed. No sir, he was beyond pissed. His fun time was interrupted by a man who looked no older than twenty name days.
Elia looked towards the man who stopped her child from being stabbed and she felt her hope plummet faster than a falling rock. He looked as if he should be at a play or drama. He didn't have the bearing or build of a warrior at all, he looked flaky at best, with his bright blond hair and thin and wiry body which donned baggy shirt and trousers. At first, she would have thought him to be a Lannister, but she quickly crushed that notion when she saw his bright azure blue eyes. That wasn't a Lannister trait. And no Lannister would ever try to save her. They hated her since the very day they were spurned over Queenship by Aerys.
Whoever the man was, he might have delayed the inevitable for the moment. But there was not a way in seven hells he would be able to defeat a brute like the Mountain, or even Lorch for that matter. He looked feminine, nothing like a warrior should be! She could even see him shaking.
Fear returned to Elia with a vengeance.
Veekeris had arrived in Westeros only few months ago, and in a very unnatural way. That was the easiest way to explain his entire situation. He woke up on the deck of a ship with no memories whatsoever. He didn't know who he was, what he did, nothing. He didn't even remember his own name.
When the captain of the ship finally saw him awake, he told him that they found him in the Blackwater Bay in the middle of a maelstrom, one which almost managed to drown them. Then the man asked him his name and he immediately panicked. It was the most jarring moment of his life, and that was exacerbated by the fact that his loss of memories made it practically the first.
After a few minutes of disbelief, both from the crew and captain, the Captain was finally convinced that his claims were true when he realized that the young man didn't even know about Westeros or Essos. Or any other continent for that matter.
The captain was the one who was kind enough to give him his new name 'Veekeris'. According to the captain, it meant Maelstrom in an ancient and forgotten tongue. The Captain thought that it suited his personality and his unique situation, and he couldn't help but agree with him. His life was a mess.
Since then, Veekeris had decided to travel to every place known to man beneath the sky, so that he could hopefully find out who he was. Did he have a family? Did he have children? He had so many questions and he didn't have answers to a single one of them. He wanted to know his identity above everything. The first place he decided to visit was King's Landing, mostly because that was where the ship was heading. He didn't really have much of a choice, really. But according to the captain, if you couldn't find something in flea bottom, you can't find it anywhere else.
With that goal in mind, he finally landed at Kings Landing after a month of grueling and back-breaking sailing, and for a moment, it was almost worth it. It was a bustling place with trade and commerce everywhere. You could find almost anything in this place, from whorehouses to top-rate restaurants. But the stench of piss and shit made enjoyment almost impossible. It also didn't help that he could sense deep-seated unease, fear, anger and borderline almost every other negative emotion under the sun from the entire city. He didn't know how, but he could just feel it. He was able to feel the pain people felt, the cravings of lust, the restlessness of anger and everything else. It almost made him want to hurl.
He had already walked in to the middle of the city when he saw a large fortress on the top of a hill. He started making his way towards it because of his inherent curiosity and he hoped someone would remember him if he continued roaming the city. It was a naïve wish, but he was desperate.
As soon as he reached the Red Keep, everything went to hell. He saw people killing each other like it was the natural thing to do. When he looked down the hill, it almost broke his heart. He saw the entire city on fire, mere minutes after he had gotten out of it. what more, He was brought down to his knees when a literal wave of negative emotions slammed into him, ranging from desperation, helplessness and a plethora of others. He wanted to vomit right there and then, though he somehow managed to keep his meal down.
He rushed towards the Keep. It was the safest place in King's Landing right now. It was a fortress, and by virtue of being one, could not be penetrated easily. By God's grace, he somehow managed to sneak himself inside the fortress without alerting the guards. It might have been because of the utter chaos in the Keep right now, but it felt as if he had done this before. It felt as if he was born and brought up to sneak into places where no one could reach. It felt as if he was born to live in the shadows. This was the first time he had felt such a sense of familiarity. He didn't know whether he should cherish it or fear it.
He managed to hide himself in a large and ornately decorated room within minutes, when he saw two strangers had managed to break in just like him. One of the men was a portly guy and the other, a hulking eight-foot behemoth of pure muscle. Veekeris gulped and his eyes grew wide as saucers. What the hell did they feed that guy?
He watched with trepidation as the giant sycophant molested the woman while the other person was just watching the entire thing with a crazed smile filled with lust and malice. Veekeris was filled with disgust and hate when he finally managed to figure the things these two monsters were about to do to the defenseless woman. He didn't need to sense their emotions to know the atrocities they were about to commit.
He went apoplectic when he saw the portly men made his way under the bed and pulled a small child out and then was shameless enough to bring his sword in a striking pose to slice the child up.
There was only so muchVeekeris could take. He screamed out "That's enough!" at the top of his voice as he bolted out of his hiding place. He might not know his name but he knew one thing beyond a shadow ofdoubt that he would never be able to sleep at night if he let this continue.
"Fuck off from here you little runt and I'll think twice about smashing your puny head in." Veekeris heard the giant speak for the first time. He directed a look towards the woman and child, just to see whether they were fine or not. The woman looked a little roughed-up, a bruise forming on her cheek from the earlier slap. But what startled him more was just how frail and delicate she looked right now, perhaps she was ill. Then he turned his gaze towards the little girl; she was shaking like a leaf, and was hugging her mother for all she was worth.
He shook in anger. He knew that he should be scared as well, since he had no memorable form of training, nor did he have amazing strength, but there wasn't a way in hell that he was going to let these two jocks have their way with a woman and kill a child right in front of him.
"It's you two who need to get out of here." Veekeris stated while gritting his teeth. He somehow managed to find the necessary strength of will to glare at them.
The mountain snarled and rushed towards Veekeris in a sprint. It was intimidating to see an eight-foot-tall giant rush towards a person. Even worse when the said person was you. The ground shook, the ceiling creaked in abject strain, and felt as if a rhino was charging at him, not that a rhino was much more dangerous than a man with a sword as long as him.
Veekeris' heart started to pace. He was able to hear the blood flowing through his veins as his heart slowly beat. A bead of sweat rushed down from his forehead to his cheek. Then suddenly, the flow of time slowed, he was able to see the Mountain charge at him. He was able to see everything. He was able to see a mosquito flapping its wings at a distance, he was able to see the slight and minute flexes of muscles as the giant of a man charged at him. It was a sensory orgasm.
'He is so slow.' Veekeris thought as the realization dawned on him.
In an instant, with the speed of wind, Veekeris ducked under the punch of the giant, and then he did something which had everyone in the room gaping at him due to the sheer incredulity, and the mere impossibility of his feat.
Veekeris lifted the giant, using the man's very own speed to throw him across the chamber. That day, the Mountain knew flight for one singular second before he hit his head on a tapestry and went down for the count. It only took one well-placed hit to bring the fearsome man down. It was comical at best.
Elia felt her jaw drop at what the feminine and flaky looking man did. One of the strongest knights in the entirety of Westeros was defeated like he was nothing more than a drunk brawler facing an experienced knight. and this was done by a peasant no less! Her musing was interrupted when she heard a roar from Amory.
"You little cunt! I am going to slice you up!" Ser Amory Lorch roared in a fit of rage as he charged at Veekeris with his sword drawn, fully intending to slice the man in front of him.
Veekeris simply side steeped and maneuvered himself inside his opponent's guard, striking him with a debilitating blow to his ribs. Amory gurgled and bile poured out of his mouth in spurts. He felt his armor dent as three of his ribs broke in a single punch. Elia cringed at the sounds of his bones snapping like twigs.
But the man didn't stop there, in a beautiful display of skill and speed he managed to disarm Amory in the flipside, grabbing Amory's sword and slashing though his torso multiple times within the span of a single second.
Amory Lorch just looked at him in disbelief and shock before he just simply crumpled like paper due to the extent of his injuries.
Veekeris himself was shocked beyond belief. 'How did I do that!?' he screamed out in his mind as he started taking in deep breaths. He had assumed that he wouldn't come out alive from this confrontation, but he had surprised himself. It felt as if he had done this before. As if he had done this countless times. The entire exchange had occurred before he even realized what he had even done. It was as if his body moved on its own to protect itself.
'Who am I?' Veekeris couldn't help but question himself as he stared at his shaking hands.
However, he wasn't the only one who was having the same thoughts.
Elia was giving the mysterious guy a very hard look through her teary eyes, she had a feeling that starting today, everything had changed because of the one singular person standing right in front of her.
'Who are you?'