Valerion
283 A.C
Riverlands
Valerion stroked his chin, his youthful features hardened by a light beard on his face. He leaned against the battlements of Riverrun. The might of the Vale, the North, and Riverland sprawled before the Tully fort. Banners from knights and lords from all walks of life gathered as one. In all his life of waging war, Velarion had never been these many men under their banner. The Golden Company had stood as the bulwark of so many of the free cities, and their slave armies were trivial in comparison. Despite the impressive sight, it only served to emphasize his boredom. Waiting was never Velarions strong suit that went to his uncle and cousin. Today was the fifth time today he was walking the battlements.
In truth, he'd be deep in his cups to make the waiting more bearable, but he could ill afford a hangover should they move tomorrow, or the day after that. The only other thing he could do to pass the time was fucking the serving girls. He'd already done that and grown bored of them three times over. Pushing off the battlements, the prince punched his open palm. While he remained here, Aegon and Robert were out there winning glory. Velarion regretted not driving his desire to go with Aegon and Robert. He wasn't king, and he didn't command anything important enough to miss his absence.
"My Prince," a soft voice broke his train of thought.
Velarion looked to find his cousins' wife and queen. Velarion bowed his head to his newest family member, "Your Grace, what can I do for you?"
"Please, we are family, call me Catelyn," the pretty redhead offered a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Valerion was good at telling seeing through a forced smile for the sake of propriety or hiding grief.
"As you wish Catelyn," Valerion's response was as rigid as his stance. He bore no ill will to Catelyn, but she was an outsider to him. It also didn't help he never entertained a woman he didn't intend to bed.
"yes," Catelyn looked down, clasping her hands together, "the gathered Lords request your presence in the Great Hall, I volunteered to fetch you." Catelyn curtsied then left promptly.
Valerion sighed if nothing else he hoped he hadn't slighted her. But his presence in the war council was peculiar. With a shrug, he made his way to the war council.
Upon entering the Great Hall of Riverrun, he was greeted by several Lords sitting at a table together. On the far left, his father and uncle sat beside an empty chair. When his uncle saw him, he gestured to the empty seat at the head of the table. Velarion pursed his lips, that was the Kings spot, in this case, the Hand of the King's place. His uncle should be on that seat, so with trepidation, he sat at the head of the table as asked.
"My Lords." Velarion nodded as he took his seat. The Lords merely nodded at his presence.
"With my nephew here, we can begin the meeting for our plan of attack." Valerion's uncle ran his hands down his tunic. "Lord Stark, you said your men have news of my son the King?"
Lord Stark, Valerion never met the Lord properly, with the chaos of Gulltown and the hasty departure of men he had been busier preparing to march for Riverrun. The northern Lord long faced and seemingly as cold as his home spoke. "Yes, King Aegon and Lord Robert's forces were ambushed by Mace Tyrells knights. They suffered heavy losses and made a hasty retreat north to the Stoney Sept."
"That's it?" Valerion's indignant tone made everyone turned their heads at him.
"Aye, that's all the King sent in reply." Lord Stark nodded.
"Is the King alive?" Velarion demanded, his voice rising.
"The letter we received was in his hand. I would assume so." Lord Stark grabbed a piece of parchment from the table and tossed it back down.
"Good, we waste time here, when do we march." Velarion perched his head on his closed fist.
"On your command nephew." Valerion's uncle raised his hand, "before you order a march, listen to the council."
Valerion pursed his lips, "very well, though why am I to determine the army's movement?" A valid question, even when fighting in Essos he oversaw a company of Knights at most. Moving an entire army was a far different calling than a hundred knights.
"By order of the King, until his wife bares him a son, he has declared you his heir. Should the worst happen, you will sit the Iron Throne." The mere thought made his stomach drop. To lose his cousin now so close to victory was a terrifying thought.
"Your Grace, the King did not specify our action while he heads for the Stoney Sept. However, If I know Robert, he had a hand in this and why they chose the Stony Sept." Lord Eddard stood back up to speak further. "If we allow the Loyalist to give chase, we can catch them in a double envelopment at the Stoney Sept, cut off their retreat and smash their army piecemeal."
"Robert Baratheon doesn't strike me as a man who doesn't give battle. If both of them agreed to flee, their situation must be dire. We should march now and intercept them. We can Garrison the Stoney sept if need be." Valerion argued, he was not about to bet on the life of his cousin.
"No, we can't afford a siege, not with the Lannister still on the fence, and if rumors are true, the Tyrells are marching to lay siege to Storms End. Back against the walls, the Lannisters can march here and smash us." Valerion's father, Maelys, banged his gauntlet on the table.
"It seems the course put forth by Lord Stark is the wisest my prince." Jon Arryn stood next.
"A king should take the words of his counsel to heart, my dear nephew." Daeron bowed his head, "what is your decision?"
The entire table of Lords looked expectantly at their prince. Damn it all; I didn't ask for this kind of power. I let Aegon take the throne so I wouldn't! Valerion closed his eyes; his cousin was always the better strategist. If Robert Baratheon suggested this and his brother went along, this had to be his wish. To not write down his intentions in case of the message being intercepted meant he trusted him to make the right call. Sighing, the Prince stood giving his Lords a measured stare. "How long until my Cousin reaches the Stoney Sept?"
"We can't estimate the losses, but all together if they decided to abandon the Elephants, two weeks," Father suggested.
"They will be marching hard, and the Loyalist will be at their heels, one week, Robert will make sure of it if not the King." Lord Eddard added.
"Very well, we will march in two weeks, have outriders report any movements on our enemy and my cousin." Valerion placed his hand on the pommel of his sword. "Will there be anything else my Lords?"
"No my prince, let us prepare for war." Uncle Dearon stood, and all other Lords followed suit, they bowed to Valerion and left the council room. Father, patted Valerion's and smiled proudly at him.
"You have made us proud Valerion, as will be your cousin when you meet him again." Uncle Daeron smiled and ruffled Valerions hair.
Valerion chuckled, "I only want to make sure we all make it to the end of this war." Valerion took his leave and left to prepare for the battle.
The Stoney Sept laid before Velarion, clad in black armor sword at his hand atop a massive black warhorse. He watched the town on a hill in the north. The place was built on a hill, the Sept from its namesake protrude at the top. A fort lay beneath the Sept, and outside the walls was the encamped loyalist army. At the crest of the hill, hidden from their enemies, Valerion's army awaited his command.
A Single rider approached from the back ranks, "My Prince, we are ready, their scouts are dead, now is the time to strike." The young man clad in a hauberk with a Mallister surcoat grinned enthusiastically at him. Valerion merely nodded, and the young man returned to the back lines. Lord Eddard silently rode up to him. He had a great sword strapped to his back, while he kept a long sword at his hip. Valerion held his sword out for Eddard who grabbed it. The black Prince donned his helm and took his sword back. "A good day for battle, sun high in the sky, dry field and our enemies are unaware."
"Aye, your grace." Lord Stark nodded, he donned silver plate with a white surcoat with his Direwolf on his breast.
"Won't be using that?" Velarion pointed to Eddard's sword at his back.
"…" Stark hummed his eyes looked far away for a moment, "aye," he responded. "When the time comes."
"Good, Valyrian steel is meant to be used, not gathering dust in a scabbard," Valerion smirked at the shocked look on the Lords face.
"You know?" Stark looked away as if abashed.
"I saw it back at camp, why do you not wish to draw it?" Valerion set his eyes south, watching the enemy camp. Soon, he knew when the battle had to happen years of fighting let him know the right moment to strike.
"Ice was my brothers," Stark's face twisted into pain, "as was Winterfell."
"I understand, though I hope it does not become so for me, Blackfyre and the Seven Kingdoms are my cousin's." Valerion offered a sympathetic look to the northerner.
"Aye let's make it so," Stark donned his helm and lowered his visor, leaving no more room for conversation.
As their conversation ended, a stillness in the air overcame Velarion. He felt his fingers tingle, and his horse snorted beneath him. This was it; the moment was just right for battle. Velarion raised his sword and looked back. Lances raised the men awaited his command, Velarion lowered his visor and swung his sword down. "Beneath the gold, the bittersteel!" Velarion rushed forward, and the army followed behind. Hundreds upon hundreds of mounted knights at his back.
A sea of cloth overtook the green pastures, banners of all kinds danced in the wind. The ground shook as the mounted knights tore the ground beneath them. The bells inside the town started to ring at least forty meters before Velarion's front line reached the Loyalist camp. The bells would toll the last sound of many men today.
Valerion's Vanguard rushed between the tents of the camp. The black prince hacked his way through panicked men, riding down those who got in front of his horse. Lord Stark's once pristine white surcoat quickly reddened with blood, his sword flashing in the sun as he guarded Velarion's flank. The attack had the desired effect. The Black Prince stopped with a score of knights around him. He lifted his visor to survey the situation.
The Loyalist had given up putting up any resistance. The bulk of their force was fleeing into the town, the rest hurled themselves at the Blackwater Rush to a second encampment, hurriedly strengthening their position. "There are more men than we anticipated!" Velarion shouted to no one in particular, but I didn't matter, the rest of their footmen would arrive soon.
"We need to give the rest of the forces time; I'll lead half the Van to attack the other camp, Your Grace find the King!" Lord Hoster Tully, one of the many men around him said.
"Make it so Lord Hoster!" Valerion yelled, Lord Hoster quickly gathered the knights in his procession along with a sizeable force of Vale and Northmen. The Riverlord charged into the Blackwater his hastily assembled host right behind him.
"With me to the town!" Velarion rushed forward with the rest of the Vanguard at his heels. His men entered through the southern gate. Turnover carts had hastily blocked the main street. At the barricade, crossbowmen aimed at his men. "Shite, hold!" Velarion shouted, reining his horse in. The sudden stop caused a few horses to trip over each other. The Black Prince's knights might as well have painted targets on themselves for the action. Several bolts pelted their confused front line. A good score of men fell from their horses. Velarion by pure chance had only lost his horse from a bolt through its eye.
The Black Prince dove off his horse, landing hard on the ground his armor rattling. Stark dismounted and smacked his horse reared, sending into an alley. "Come on!" He helped Velarion to his feet, the Prince's sword lost on the scuffle. The two stumbled into the alley Starks horse fled down. No sooner had they found refuge; a second volley struck down more of Valerion's men.
"From behind!" the shout of men and clashing steel rang in the air. Velarion chanced a glance around the corner. The crossbowmen had turned their attention behind them loosening bolts at an unseen enemy.
"Now is our chance," Velarion turned to Stark, the Northern Lord offered him his Longsword. Velarion nodded, taking it. Lord Stark unsheathed his Valyrian steel sword, the Smokey blade with ripples like ripples on water. Even after seeing Blackfyre most of his life, seeing the ancient blade's edge never ceased to amaze Velarion. If only Darksister were not lost to them, he might have claimed it for his own.
But now was not the time for such thoughts, he steeled himself and ran out back to the street sword held aloft. "Dismount, we take the town on foot!" Velarion regrouped his men with Stark at his side. The rest of his force under the command of Lord Jon Arryn and his heir Ser Denys Arryn took to the battlements. With the gathered force coming behind him, the Black Prince charged forward.
Valerion was the first to reach the barricade; he climbed over the carts tricky footing. He made it to the top stabbing a distracted crossbowman in the back. Stark was next and cleaved a man in twain with his greatsword. A small battle followed, with Valerion's sword dancing between axes, and maces killing five men in two minutes. Such was his prowess; he bought enough time for Stark to help more of their knights climb the obstruction.
The Black Prince took stock of the situation, and utter chaos was the only way to describe the madness before him. Men were fighting in disorganized melee across the town square. At the center, the trout fountain's water ran crimson as men fought knee deep in the stained water. Bodies of the unfortunate floated in the water. Skirmishes raged wherever men could find the footing, and the roofs were no exception with men falling to their deaths to the street. It was among this chaos Velarion was to find his brother, an impossible task to be sure. He needed to rally the men fighting for him, but with the disorder, he could barely recognize the Golden Company soldiers, let alone Baratheon's men.
An idea struck him, Valerion saw a body slumped beneath the barricade. A spear to the back had done the poor sod in. Quickly, he cut his surcoat off his body.
"My Prince?" Stark looked on confused.
"We won't get anywhere if we don't regroup." Velarion hopped down the barricade. He retrieved the spear and made a hasty banner. The Black Prince handed the standard to nearby Knight.
Valerion readied his sword as Stark, and his knights gathered around him, "ready to go again?" Velarion smacked Starks arm playfully.
"Once more into the breach!" Velarion did not miss the mirth in the Lords' voice. It turns out there was a warrior in him after all, not just the sullen man he saw at Riverrun.
The Knights under Valerion's command charged driving a wedge in the chaos leading to the fountain. Stark's sword cut men down in groups. The Valyrian steel sword cut through flesh and armor like air. Neither bone nor steel would stop the blade when Stark cleaved men to pieces. Their foes gave Stark a wide berth fearing the backswing of the beastly sword. The Smokey blade ran dark red in the afternoon sun, and Velarion knew he would claim the most lives by the end of this battle.
"The King, the King, is here!" a voice shouted, bringing a rallying force to Valerion. Valerion clad in black armor reached the fountain with his men spreading around to circle him. The Black Prince sheathed his sword and took the banner from his knight. He climbed the trout facsimile standing on the stone tail he raised the flag to stand out before the men.
"For King Aegon!"
"Protect the King lads!"
"Beneath the Gold the Bittersteel!" Several more chants brought men to Valerion's gathering force. The banner had made people think he was his cousin. Good, The Black Prince thought, this might help relieve the pressure from his cousin.
Valerion climbed from the statue giving the banner back to the knight. Pushing his growing advantage, he made to clear the town square and make a rallying point for their combined force. Valerion chose the main path north leading to the Sept and Fort. Having Stark at his side, he ordered Starks bannerman Roose Bolton to take a score of their knights and whatever foot from the Golden Company and Baratheon banners he could muster and secure the eastern road. Lord Yohn Royce, not needing the order began hacking his way east with his retinue of knights.
The Black Prince cut a swath through the poorly organized loyalist. Stark by this point was coated head to toe in the blood of their foes. He made for a grim sight, so much, so the loyalist was purposefully refusing to engage him directly. Stark once killing men one after the other, was now barely fighting anyone. Few men dared to try him, all of them who did fell. Velarion and his men made good pace driving back the loyalist to the street.
Stark pulled back, allowing his entourage to cover them while he approached Valerion. Ned lifted his visor panting for air, "your grace!" he swallowed before continuing, "We should hold here your grace, wait for the foot, and scour the streets on their arrival."
Valerion's blood was boiling, his heart pounding against his ears, and his entire body felt tingly as he practically bounced in place. "What? Stark was driving them back; we push our advantage! Give them no pause to gather their strength!" Valerion shouted back.
"Your Grace!" Deaf ears met Stark's call. Valerion slapped his visor down and pushed Starks men aside flashing his sword cutting down his foes. Valerion pushed up the streets, his force pooling into the alleys, continuing the fight for each step taken. Their push led them to an open area of the circular cobbled path. The loyalist army broke, Valerion grinned like a madman when he saw his foes run back to the hill fort.
"You see Stark!" The Black Prince pounded his gauntlet against his breastplate. "Cowards the lot of them, broken beneath our might!" Valerion spread his arms. He marched forward his men cheering him on arms raised in the air his makeshift banner waving at his back. Valerion spun his sword and made to push to the fort. Valerion's victory was all but assured, taking down the Griffin Banners on the Fort would be the final cut against his foes.
"Archers, archers!" Valerion registered the yell a bit too late. He looked up; dozens of men lined the roofs circling his force. The volley of arrows flew, and Valerion went down. He felt a crushing weight on his back and searing pain on the right side of his face. A loud snap rattled in his helmet, a sharp thrusting pain followed it. Then darkness descended on Valerion.
Eddard
"Valerion!" Ned shouted when he was brought down to a knee. A score of his Northmen surrounded him with shields up as arrows thwacked against the guards. Ethan Glover was knelt over Ned using himself as a shield. Ned tapped his companions' shoulder, and he was allowed back onto his feet. Ned dared to lift his visor to scour the battlefield. He spotted Valerion's banner, but he could not see the Black Prince. Ned slammed his visor down and grabbed Ice in a white-knuckle grip.
"Valerion!" Ned shouted a third time, as he began hacking his way towards his companion. The Loyalist had lost their previous fear of him, they came at him with frenzied might, but neither shield nor armor could withstand Ice's edge. Knight, a man at arms, it matters not, they could not hope to match the Valyrian Steel in his hands. Leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, Ned made it to the front under a barrage of arrows and slowly being pushed back into the main road. He found a group of knights holding their fallen liege. A broken arrow shaft stuck in Valerion's visor. Ned felt his heart stop and the grip on his sword loosened.
"…" Valerion moved, shaking his head a little, though Ned was sure he spoke he could not hear him over the battle. Ned knelt by the fallen prince lifting his visor. "Aegon, Aegon I can't see." The prince muttered through agonized sobs. Ned looked up and cursed ducking as another volley pelted them followed by screams.
"We can't stay here!" Ned stood and took command of the situation. "Fall back, take Valerion to the Center!" Ned ushered the Knights to the back carrying their prince. They began giving ground as orderly as they could. Ned had the better-armored knights hold the front while those carrying shields formed a canopy around Valerion and the knights now forming his guard. Ned kept making repeated excursions to their receding line wherever it looked like they were threatening to break. By the time they made it halfway out of the opened center, the loyalist front parted. From the Fort sallied out a score of knights flying the griffon banner of house Connington. Ned cursed and pushed back to Valerion. "Go, make way for you liege!" Ned pushed their men aside to make way for Valerion.
"Brace!" Ned heard his men yell; he turned to see the mounted knights smash into his front line. His men fell beneath the attacking horses trampled beneath their significant weight. Mark Ryswell grasped his arm and moved him aside when the Knights cut through to their position.
"Valerion!" Ned tried to go back as bloody mas the idea was. But Mark and more of his men held him back. Through a haze of men and horses, he caught a glimpse of a black armored man shuffling down an opposite alley.
"Look out!" Ned heard Ethan shout, followed by the clash of steel. Ned cursed his sword struck out, stabbing a man in his belly. Ned the put a hand beneath the grip of his pummel and pulled it up splitting the man belly to head. He urged ahead the narrow alley making him stick to stabbing and short quick slashes with Ice. He stabbed a knight through the heart and kicked him off Ice the motion allowed him a second to look behind him. A mounted knight with a griffon on his chest barreled through the street and knocked Ned aside into a house. While he was down a man came in after him. Ned, with great effort, swung Ice with one hand cutting the man's arms at the elbow. He screamed, falling, staring at the stumps of his arms. Ned offered him some small mercy and cut his head off. More men came in after him, and Ned fled up the house stairs. He was growing tired, fighting alone without his companions was asking for death. He reached the top first. A wardrobe was at the top of the stairs against the railing. Using the added weight of his armor, Ned slammed his shoulder against the closet and pushed it into the stairs. A man yelled as crushed beneath the wardrobe. The Lord of Winterfell grabbed Ice underhanded and stabbed through the wardrobe silencing the man. Pulling the sword back, Ned looked about the room.
A window, he moved to it, and he was able to climb the ceiling. Ned climbed out of the limit and stood the highest point on the roof. He stabbed Ice into the ground to anchor himself, lifting his visor Ned watched a great deal of the battles. By the old gods, how much death could they keep sowing here today? Ned had been far too busy fighting to pay much attention to anything that wasn't attacking Valerion's flank. Now with some breathing room, he could guess where Aegon and Robert where in this chaos.
"Die!" Ned turned surprised; a man came ax swinging for his head. Ned ducked beneath the swing bring Ice up for a cut. The man stepped back and lifted his shaft in defense. Behind him, more men jumped up to the roof, not even one of the allies. Ned turned and fled jumping to the nearest house, thankfully packed close enough that the added weight of his armor didn't impede his jump. Making it up to the curve of the next building, Ned turned and swung ice. He caught the first attacker unaware of cutting his head off.
Ned continued moving, to the next house, only to find five men fighting on it. He picked out Baratheon colors, yellow and green. Ned jumped to the roof and killed two of the men fighting Robert's men. The men pursuing him jumped and immediately clashed blades with each other. Ned killed two men before the ax wielder from before tried him again. He was good, enough to make Ned miss several swings and force him back. Ned blocked one strike after the other. He swatted the ax cutting the shaft and dropping the head. The bastard didn't give the Northener the chance to finish him. The burly fool tackled Ned, and the two went over the bent of the roof.
Ned's back contacted the roof, and the ceiling beneath him gave way. He barely got to scream when he landed on a soft bed that broke beneath their weight. The initial impact on the roof rung Ned's bell. His vision was blurry. He just felt a burden on his waist trapping him. The shade perched atop him drew both hands back, Ned feebly lifted his hand. A black shadow fell over his face, and he saw no more.
Aegon
"Seven hells!" Jenny jumped, Aegon had just fitted the last piece of his armor when the roof caved, and Jenny leaped into his arms. A man coated in blood crashed against the bed on the far corner. There was a second man, presumably responsible for both falling through the roof. Aegon drew Blackfyre while the man atop drew a dirk from his belt. Aegon stepped on something. He looked down to a massive Valyrian steel sword. Instantly Ageon knew who the fallen man was, Aegon grabbed his black cloak covering Jenny. He ripped it off her body and threw it at the Lord Stark's attacker. The cloak blinded him, and he thrashed around, throwing it over Stark. Aegon was there in a flash cutting his head off, to Jenny's horrified yell. Aegon caught the body, blood spilling on his armor. He shoved the body off and removed the cloak from the fallen Stark. Aegon lifted the fallen Lords visor to see his grey eyes regain focus.
"Velarion?" Stark muttered.
"Close, are you alright, my Lord?" Aegon offered his hand, helping Stark back to his feet.
"Aegon," Jenny's shaken voice made him whip his head back to her.
"Jenny, forgive me." Aegon grabbed his cloak and moved to wrap it around her. She shivered in his grasp but managed a satisfied smile.
"Where's Robert?" Stark retrieved his sword and came to stand next to Aegon.
"Aegon!" Robert, on cue, stormed into his room armored and holding his hammer. "Ned?" Robert smiled and enveloped Stark in a bone-crushing hug. "Gods, it's good to see you!" Robert smiled broadly.
"What's going on outside?" Aegon admitted ignorance, hoping things were going their way.
"Chaos, Prince Valerion led the Vanguard attacking the loyalist outside the wall, when the bells rang, well, things fell apart from there," Ned admitted kicking the ground in frustration.
"Are we losing?" Robert grabbed his hammer with both hands.
"I don't know; we managed to take and hold the town square firmly." Stark removed his helmet and padded cap. He wiped the sweat from his brow. Jenny jumped into motion and filled a cup of wine, giving it to Stark. "Thank you," he downed the whole thing in one swing. "Bah, we pushed north to the fort, but the loyalist counter attacked brought us to hold." Stark wiped his mouth, "Prince Valerion fell wounded in the counterattack, we tried falling back, but knights baring two griffons buckled our center, and I got separated from him." Stark the decency to look down, his shoulders sagging under his armor. "Forgive me, my King."
"No," Aegon ran a hand over his hair, he knew his cousin, hot-headed as he was. "I know Valerion; he is often brash in the middle of combat. I do not doubt this was of his own doing." Aegon shook his head. "Does he live?"
"Last I saw him, aye, I tasked the knights with him to take him to the fountain square. I don't know beyond that." Stark donned his cap and helm once more.
"It's time to end this, Robert, Lord Stark, with me, we need to find Jon Connington, only then can we end this battle."
"Let's go crack some bloody skulls!" Robert grabbed Lord Eddard and stalked to the main floor of the Peach Brothel.
"I must leave, stay here, barricade the doors." Aegon paused, looking at the woman he had come to know the past few weeks. There was something there; it went beyond lust, beyond the fear of dying the next morning. When Connington was hunting for them, they moved a lot. But when they ended up at the Peach. Jenny of all the whores in the brothel helped heal his wounds. He spent so much time talking to her, and he told her tales from across The Narrow Sea. Of Old Ghis, and the Great Golden Pyramid of Mareen. The ruins of Valyria, and the cursed Rhoynar river. He fought it, by the old gods and the new he fought it, but the moment his wounds fully healed, he bedded her. Not for the coin, or desperation, but out of wanting, he could not describe for this simple girl, with big brown eyes, a dimpled smile and two bucked teeth that made her smiles shy. Aegon had never been with another woman save his first time with Catelyn.
Gods save him, his wife and queen waited for him at Riverrun. Here he was a married man wanting to set his wife aside for another woman. Aegon closed his eyes and kissed her soft pink lips. In madness, he could not name he held her face close to his. "Wait for me; I will bring you with me to Kings Landing."
"My sweet King, what of your wife?" Jenny's soft hands caressed his bearded chin.
"I don't love her, but our son will be king. That should be enough, should it not?" Aegon could almost feel his father's glaring eyes on him. He could only imagine what he would do if he found out about this. What use is a crown, if I cannot at least have this one selfish desire?
"You would have your highborn children hate ours?" Jenny's lips pulled down, and her brown eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Would you have me ridiculed as your mistress, sweet king?"
"Never, I will protect you; I will show the blood and fire." Aegon bristled at the mere thought of anyone bad mouthing such a sweet girl.
"But you can't, you said to me, you want to be a better king. One that doesn't abduct women, I think a good king would not shame his wife too." Gods, why was she so pure? Why was she to be a whore when she deserved none of this.
"But," She put her fingers on his lips.
"No buts, go win this horrible war, and find happiness with the highborn lady waiting for you." Jenny stepped back and wrapped his cloak closer to her body.
"I… I lo-" Jenny shook her head, "no, please by the mercy of the seven don't say it." Tears finally fell from her eyes. "I don't think I could deny you if you say those words, please go and forget. Find happiness and forget."
"Forgive me," Aegon turned, donned his helm and joined Robert and Eddard below.
"My King, about the woman." Stark's tone was disapproving; frankly, Aegon was in no mood for what he was about to say.
"Save it for the Septon, or your trees Lord Stark; I won't hear of it." Aegon drew Blackfyre once more and burst out to the chaos outside. The Dragon King stabbed a man in the back who wore crownland colors. With his compatriots as his side, Aegon killed his way to eastern battlements, looking for higher ground and make his presence known. The fighting was fierce; Robert's Warhammer smashed all those who fought him. Stark, if possible was an even bloodier mess, his sword coated in so much blood, the blade looks to be forged of some horrible red metal.
Their push soon ended when they reached the battlements near the eastern gate. Arryn colors flew on the turrets flanking the doors; reinforcements meanwhile poured in steadily. Aegon made his way to the battlements and found Lord Jon Arryn, laid on a cot while a Maester looked over his wounds. Robert and Eddard immediately knelt beside the aging Lord. Jon's left arm was a stump covered in bloodied bandages. While a young lad pressed a red cloth to the Lord's neck curbing the bleeding. The Maester stepped back, finishing his work. He looked to Aegon; his eyes heavy with burden. Aegon nodded; he understood well enough. Aegon took his leave, his companions needed to make peace with their adoptive father. Aegon took to the battlements, the men there instantly knelt on his arrival.
"Rise, I do not need your knees bent, but your swords and wits." Aegon flipped Blackfyre once for good luck.
"Jon Connington, does any man here know where I might find him?" The Dragonking leaned against the ramparts gazing at his massive army assembled outside.
"The battlements Your Grace, he's holed up farther north, keeping us from taking the Northern Gate." Some common man at arms said.
"Well then, I grow tired of this battle, let's go find this man and kill him." Aegon gave no further orders. He started a determined march down the battlements, and he could hear men fall in step behind him. By the time he reached the northern Gate, Aegon had a substantial force. All banners from every house sworn to his allies. The Dragon King stood just out of range of the turret archers. The distance to the gate was corpse riddle path. Atop the southern turret, a man came to look down Aegon. He wore a surcoat of two Griffons, and silver armor with his cloak held by a broach of a hand carrying a dirk.
"I presume you are Jon Connington!" Aegon lifted his visor.
"Aye, and you are the Bastard King, I presume." Aegon did not give him the pleasure of responding to that.
"Your cause is lost Ser; my army is here, yours is falling by piecemeal, do not throw your lives away this day." Aegon placed Blackyfre tip down, resting his hand on the crossguard.
"I need only hold you here, for my prince and true king to sweep you away." A bald-faced lie, Rhaegar was hiding away the gods know where. Aegon knew this; even if what he said wasn't a bluff, he'd need a massive army to smash them at this point.
"Then I must end this battle immediately, surrender Ser, you will be treated as befitting your standing, and might yet keep your lands and titles if you bend the knee." Aegon shrugged.
"I will see you soon then, usurper." Connington drew his sword and stepped away. Good, I prefer it this way, you whoreson. Aegon placed his visor back down, he lifted his sword and swung it down, starting the charge. Aegon's armor blunted the arrows raining over him. Though the Dragon King had to be careful, the battlements were slick with blood and strewn with corpses. One wrong footing and he'd be the king who tripped and died. From the turret, Knights exited to create a bulwark of armored men. Blackfyre cut that defense to ribbons. The Valyrian sword flashed in Aegon's expert hands, cutting through armor, shield, and bone. The way cleared, Aegon took to the stairs switching blade hands. The cramped space and the spiral staircases of turrets were always built to give the attacker a disadvantage for being righthanded. It was a good thing Aegon was more than adept with both hands.
Spearmen thrust blindly at the Dragon King. Greenboys, levies risen and given a spear and gambeson. That they held this long was enough to earn them the respect of Aegon. However, these men were in his way; he cut them down with precise skill. All the while, leaning right against the wall to let the bodies roll past. Reaching the top Aegon stabbed a man through his belly, forcing him to step up to the roof of the turret. With a flick of his sword, he shoved the man down to the ground below. Swiftly Aegon faced Jon Connington, he wasted no time and crossed swords with the Dragon Kin. Almost lazily, Aegon parried each strike and shoved the man away from him. More's the pity, a big mouth and he could perhaps beat an unarmed cripple at best. Aegon drawled in his mind before parrying another strike and stabbing Connington through the gut. The sword fell from the Lord's grip, and he went down to his knees. Aegon pulled Blackfyre free and prepared to deliver the killing blow.
"I served my Lord well," the Knight groaned clutching his bleeding stomach.
Aegon gave pause, "your Lord?" a benign enough statement, but why had he not said, King. Behind him, Robert came up. He was without a helm, and his eyes were red.
"Robert, is Lord Arryn?" The question hung in the air depressingly over the Storm Lord.
"Gone," Robert cleared his hoarse throat. He grabbed the helm on Lord Connington and removed it. "Shite!" Robert dropped the helm and swung his Warhammer with one hand, decapitating the man in one swift move. Aegon barely flinched, though no less annoyed Robert delivered the final blow on his opponent.
"That's not him," Robert growled.
"Then, where is Connington?" Aegon gritted his teeth.
A war horn unknown to him blasted across the field. Then three more tones, the men on the turret turned south to the source of the horns. Barely able to make out, Aegon watched a score of knights gather around a banner of red and white. From this distance, he could not make the sigil.
"The Loyalist are retreating!" A man at arms fell to his knees, thanking the seven. Aegon cursed and left to regroup with his men and establish order in this bloody chaos.
Six hours, Aegon spent six hours reconnecting with Lords and their retinues. The order was once again prominent in the Stoney Sept. A mixture of mourning and honors were underway. First were the celebrations, Ser Denys Arryn distinguished himself killing Jon Connington in single combat. The Knight of the Vale had lifted Conningtons head on the western ramparts starting a general route. Though it seemed Connington anticipated either his death or had another plan all together. He had dressed one of his knights in his spare armor to confuse Aegon's men of his whereabouts. All the meanwhile, he hunted for Aegon across the town, killing his way through Aegon's men to find him. He ran into Valerion's escort who fought a series of battles to get Valerion to the Eastern Ramparts. Lord Jon Arryn, with his retinue of knights and heir Ser Denys, engaged the Stormlander.
Connington won their final clash, though not without receiving a wound of his own. Jon delivered a brutal slash beneath Conningtons armpit. In turn, he took Lord Arryn's arm and plunged his dirk into the Lord's neck. Connington fled, and the Valemen gave chase cornering him on the western battlements and slaying the loyalist commander. The loyalist army was saved from utter collapse by Ser Myles Mooton, who ordered a retreat.
The honors also went to Ser Edmure and Aegon's remaining knights from the attack on the Reach. Already they called them the brave companions and the Blackfyre's shield. Edmure and the knights had found Velarion and escorted him and his guard out of the town to be treated by a Measter. Lord Hoster filled with so much pride he hugged his son for all to see. Even Lord Hoster earned some honor for stalling the rest of the loyalist outside the walls.
But that is where the honors and merriment ended, Aegon personally gave the proper words for those who were lost. Highborn or otherwise, but among the notable losses were Jon Arryn, Ethan Glover, and Silveraxe from the Stormlands. Their casualties thank the gods were looking minimal while they delivered a devastating blow to the loyalist. But with what he needed to take care of officially, Aegon went to his tent to find Velarion.
The tent was empty, the guards outside claimed Velarion had angrily dismissed everyone. Aegon hesitated, he knew his cousins' wrath, but he could rest not knowing how badly his cousin was wounded. Aegon entered finding his cousin hunched over in a chair. He was facing the tent walls, silent and without care. Aegon struggled to find the words that he could see; all his limbs were there. So many men were not as lucky.
"I'm done." Valerion's shattered voice made Aegon jump.
"Cousin, how were you wounded." Aegon approached, placing a gauntlet on Vaelrion's shoulder.
"I'm done," Velarion repeated, and his shoulder shook as he sobbed into his hands. Aegon dared to walk around and lift his cousin's head from his hands. His brother did not resist. His lilac eye filled with tears looked to him. The Maester bandaged the right side of the face.
"You lost your eye." Velarion sniffed and freed himself from his brothers grasp. He walked right and tripped on his chair.
"Shite!" His Cousin did not try to stand, just laid there crying into the rug. Aegon helped his unwilling cousin off the ground. He put him against the support beam at the center of the tent. Aegon groaned sitting next to his cousin.
"I can't see anything next to my right; I can't bloody see!" Velarion turned to Aegon.
"You will, you can, I've seen you rise from falls time, and time again," Aegon said.
"This is not the same-" Velarion cursed.
"Then make it!" Aegon growled shooting to his feet.
"I know you; I know you as well as you know yourself." Aegon held his cousins head between his hands. "I believe in you; I believe you can overcome this, do not lose all you are now. I would feel alone if the man I've come to call a brother. Rise like the dragon you are, no more, no less dear cousin." Aegon left his cousin with only one place he wanted to be. He removed his armor and rode into town to the Peach. The Brothel was already in business, Aegon's soldiers already in a drunken stupor hardly noticed him. Aegon entered the Peach; he ignored all whores who approached and stalked upstairs. He burst where he last left Jenny. She was bent over a chest, while a man struggled with his breeches. When Jenny saw him, she gasped covered her shame with her discarded clothes.
"Leave," Aegon ordered the soldier.
"M-y King!" Even drunk, he recognized his king, he stumbled away, hitting the side of the door as he did.
"Aegon," Jenny blushed with tears prickling the edges of her eyes.
"How many," Aegon muttered.
"None, he was going to be my first, the girls let me rest after…well after everything." Jenny sat on the remaining good bed.
"I will be marching soon, back to Riverrun, come with me, please." Aegon knelt at her feet. "Leave this life; I can give you something better."
"Sweet King, we cannot," Jenny shook her head dressing.
"Jenny, I-" she covered her ears, "No!" She shook her head, feverously.
Aegon took her arms, and she fought him, fought him in a losing battle. "I love you."
Her eyes widen, and she cried openly now, "fool your selfish fool." She threw herself at him, their mouths finding each other. He made quick work of what little she put back on, and he did the same.
"What am I to do?" Jenny laid atop him, resting her head in the crook of his neck.
"Leave this place, this life for something better," Aegon muttered.
"What else there, I have no coin to buy a house, worst what good folk would give work to a whore?" she threaded their fingers together.
"When the war ends, I will send for you; I will send men I trust. My Cousin, I shall name him Prince of Dragonstone, he will keep my trust, and you can live there, under his protection." Aegon said.
"What will I do? Folk will talk if I am just some pampered commoner." Jenny sat up, looking down at him.
"We will find something for you to do, something to keep people from whispering. I will visit when I can." Aegon moved their intertwined hands to kiss her knuckles.
"You must not come if you must, but please do not see me out. I do not want to cause you any more trouble." Jenny hurt him by ripping her hand from his and hugging her body.
"But I-" Aegon sat up, and she placed her fingers on his lisp. "Promise me Aegon, please promise me you will not seek me out, let me live in peace, and silently thank you for delivering me from here." Jenny shook her head.
"I…I shall try," Aegon muttered.
"If, if you come to see me, I will leave Dragonstone, and you will never hear from me again." Jenny insisted.
"How will I know if you are well?" He is wrong, wanting to see her still, hold her, it was wrong. He said his vows before the seven with another woman already.
"You Cousin, ask him and I shall respond, but no more than that." Jenny stood up, leaving behind an emptiness that hollowed him out.
"Jenny," Aegon muttered her name like a prayer. "Very well, I give you my words."
Jenny smiled; a smile so sweet it only served to create a pit in his heart. "Thank you, my sweet King." Aegon sat up and pulled her to him. "Aegon," she tried to pull away.
"Just for tonight, stay with me, let me make love to you until we cannot stand. Let me get as much of your warmth as I can before returning to the cold of the world." Her cheeks reddened, and she straddled his lap, kissing his forehead.
"For tonight, will you call me your wife? Just for tonight, would you call me your Lady Wife?" Jenny's blush deepened at her request. "It is silly; forget, I asked."
"I would not deny you…my Lady Wife. Let us lay as husband and wife should." Aegon kissed her neck, and Jenny gasped when she felt his manhood press against her belly. "For whatever tomorrow may hold, tonight will be ours, and none shall deny us." Aegon kissed her deeply, and they lay in bed, forgetting about war and forgetting about the responsibilities of a King. As the King bedded the Queen, he wished for, a red comet streaked across the sky. It was sudden and completely out of nowhere. Aegon just remembered seeing the red-light filter through the hole that was in the roof while Jenny quivered beneath him.