DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GAME OF THRONES OR ANY ASSOCIATED CHARACTERS

So unfortunately, because of the way I have mapped out and planned this story, certain scenes will happen earlier than they would in the show. This is simply to drive the plot forward and make certain events happen later that I have planned, so put your pitchforks down, this is a fanfiction after all. With that out of the way, enjoy the new chapter and drop me a review!

Chapter 24

For weeks Arya had been carrying Tywin's water and wine, his food and drink, his firewood. Every now and then, she'd sneak a peek at one of the letters he constantly wrote to get some inkling of what was happening with the war. When she got word that Tywin was to leave Harrenhal soon with his army, she had to act fast. She walked as fast as she dared without drawing any attention to herself down to the courtyard, where Jaqen H'ghar sat in his Lannister armor.

"You have to get us out of here tonight."

"Why?"

"Lord Tywin is leaving tomorrow, and he's going to empty the whole castle. We'll be killed!" she exclaimed.

"A man does not care what happens to others, for a man survives."

"You said I could name three names!" Arya protested.

Jaqen nodded. "Yes, but to help you and your friends escape would require more than one name. This is something a man cannot do."

"Fine. I'll name the third name. Jaqen H'ghar."

Jaqen looked up at her with cold eyes. "A girl lacks honour. If a man were to do this thing, a girl must obey."

"A girl will obey," Arya returned.

"A girl and her friends will walk through the gates at midnight," Jaqen said, brushing past Arya and disappearing.

Aaaaa

The salty air of Dragonstone reminded Austin of his days in Starfall, where the sea was only a stone's throw from the castle walls. It stung his tongue and dried out his hair, but it reminded him of happier times. Though if he'd never been forced out of his home, he wouldn't have so many brothers in Robb, Jon, Theon, and Edric. Lord Stark had been more of a father to him than Ser Arthur had ever been, but that wasn't a difficult task per say.

From the balcony of his quarters, he could see scores of black-sailed barges and warships anchored off shore. The fields and beach leading down to the shore were covered in tents from both the Dragonstone troops, as well as the Stormlanders. Just as Austin turned around, the door to his room opened, revealing Ser Davos Seaworth.

"King Stannis demands your presence at his war council."

Austin nodded, taking a seat to pull on his boots before rising to follow the older seaman. When he entered the council chambers, Aegon's table was littered with wooden pieces representing the armies of Westeros. Lords of both Dragonstone and the Stormlands were surrounding it, with Stannis at the head of the table.

"Ser Austin," Stannis called, silencing all other conversations.

"Your Grace," Austin nodded.

Stannis stood to his feet and paced around to the side of the table where King's Landing was. "Seeing as how you are both a knight and experienced soldier, I wanted to explain our battle plans and perhaps glean some of your insight. Gods know these fools don't have any input."

Austin motioned for Stannis to continue as he walked up next to him and looked down at the table. "Our scouts report that the garrison has over ten thousand men. We have six times that at least, but they have the walls. You are familiar with the defences of the city, are you not?"

"I am. I had plenty of time to study them when I was in the city with Ned," Austin nodded. "The main gates are strong, easily defended, but the beachhead is vulnerable. The Mud Gate is the weakest gate and point on the walls. If you smash the Lannister fleet and land troops on the beach in longboats, a ladder assault should take the city."

"Should?" Stannis pried. "I need absolutes, Ser Austin."

Austin shrugged. "Unfortunately, there are no absolutes in warfare, Your Grace."

"Aye, you're right about that. Very well, Ser Austin. We sail at dawn."


Edric marched through the camp, Ingavar by his side, Brienne on the other. She had seldom left his side since their arrival in the Northern camp, but that was to be expected. She was a woman in a camp full of men who haven't seen their wives in months. Snapping and pointing to the ground next to the command tent, Ingavar lumbered over and plopped down onto the ground, already half asleep. Without Austin's presence, the bear had grown lazy.

Sweeping open the flap of the tent, Edric allowed Brienne inside first before he himself stepped in. Ned looked up from the war map that he, the Greatjon, and Ser Brynden Tully were poring over. His face brightened noticeably at the Dayne's presence, followed by surprise and confusion at Brienne's.

"Forgive me, my lady, I do not believe we have met," Ned said lightly.

Brienne bowed deeply. "Brienne of Tarth, Your Grace. And if it please, just Brienne."

"Very well," Ned nodded. "I'd heard that Edric had brought a warrior back from Renly's camp, but I had no idea that you'd be a woman. And that you were one of Renly's Kingsguard no less."

"I was. My father taught me to fight," she said.

"I've met Lord Selwyn, he's a good man," Ned praised before turning his gaze to Edric. "Now, what is it?"

"Well, to put it mildly Ned, the Karstarks are in danger of committing treason."

"Aye, I heard about Lord Karstark's son. But without Jaime, we hold no leverage over Tywin for Sansa," Ned said.

Edric raised an eyebrow. "What about Arya?"

"I sent Arya with a Night's Watchman to the Wall. With any luck, she's back at Winterfell."

"I see," Edric said. "In any case, I think a few more guards should be posted tonight. Last night, swords were drawn, but no bloodshed occurred thanks to Lady Maege."

"Aye, choose the men yourself. I trust you," Ned nodded.

Edric bowed, taking his leave. When they were outside the tent, Brienne spoke up. "A few extra swords won't stop an angry Karstark army."

The corner of Edric's mouth twisted upwards. "I know. Which is why I have an ace up my sleeve."


The water was exactly as its name suggested: black. Blackwater Bay's waves were silent, aiding in the travel of Stannis' fleet. Austin stood in the bow of the Baratheon's flagship, staring ahead towards the not yet visible shoreline. He turned his head when a roughly accented voice spoke from behind him.

"I suppose we haven't had much time to get acquainted, Ser Austin," said Ser Davos, his hands clasped behind his back.

"No, I suppose we haven't," Austin smiled, turning to shake the hand of the Onion Knight. "I've heard the story of how you obtained your sigil."

Davos chuckled. "Aye, one of my finest moments."

"And you don't resent Stannis for that?" Austin nodded to Davos' severed fingers.

The seaman flexed his hands. "I don't resent him. He was good with the cleaver, and it was fair justice. I can still feel them sometimes."

"You are an honourable man, Ser Davos. A quality rarely found these days, much less in men from Fleabottom," Austin nodded in respect.

Ser Davos inclined his head in return. "I hear tales of your honour as well, Ser Austin. I heard that you grew up with Ned Stark, and he raised you among his own sons."

"Aye, he did. He's the only father I've ever known."

"Yet he isn't your real father, is he? I've heard great tales of your real father. Been called the deadliest knight in the history of Westeros. Some even say you're better," said Davos.

"A stretch, but thank you. The way I've heard other great knights talk about my father, I feel like I can't escape his shadow, that I'll never be as good as him with a blade. And the truth is, if I didn't have to be, I wouldn't even try," Austin sighed. "I've fought in one battle, one trial, and a street fight, yet I'm weary of war. Common soldiers in these armies are braver than me."

"No, they're not braver. The truth is, no one is brave. All men who go to war are scared, but those who do their duty despite their fear are the ones considered brave and heroic."

Austin nodded in understanding. "You have some wisdom to you, Ser Davos."

"Well, you don't get to be my age without picking up a thing or two."

The pair's conversation was interrupted when Stannis approached from the rear to stand between the two men. His cold eyes were fastened on the horizon when he spoke. "Ser Austin, a word?"

Ser Davos bowed and took his leave as Austin straightened. "Your Grace."

"The attack on the Mud Gate will be fierce. Once my men reach the walls with their ladders, the Lannisters will no doubt sally out with their best troops. I want you on the front lines. Eliminate their Kingsguard and anyone else you deem important to the defence of the city."

Austin nodded. "As you wish."


The Northern camp was quiet when Lord Karstark made his move. The small hours of the morning left most of the men asleep, save those assigned to guard duties. Jaime's wooden cell now had five prison guards, hand-picked by Edric for their loyalty and honor. But even they would not hold long against the throng of Karstarks that strode purposefully towards them. Swords were drawn on both sides.

"Out of the way! Any man who stands between me and my vengeance will suffer a split skull!" Lord Karstark growled.

Edric stepped out of the shadows of the nearby tents. He was outfitted for battle, armor glistening in the moonlight, fur cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Brienne followed, her golden armor blazing in the pale light.

"They will not. And you will stand down, Lord Karstark," Edric demanded.

Without a word, Rickard yelled and charged forward, sword poised for a strike on the defenseless Dayne. Brienne drew her sword unnecessarily, for Edric let out a sharp, piercing whistle.

In a matter of seconds, a mass of brown, bristly fur caught the Karstark Lord's sword arm in its jaws and ripped it clean off, fingers still clutching the grip. The sword tip dug into the ground, leaving the severed limb dangling from it as blood spurted from what was left of Lord Karstark's right arm. It had been torn above the elbow, and the old man screamed like Edric had never heard a man scream before, left hand attempting to staunch the bleeding.

Forgetting completely about their original mission, all of the Karstark men aided in escorting their wailing lord to the nearest healer. Ingavar glanced up to Edric, his teeth stained red, looking for some kind of approval. Edric smirked at the bear and patted its head. Sometimes, he wondered if the bear was actually a deformed human.


Edric stood next to Ser Barristan, the two on either side of Ned. The King in the North sat, hands clasped in front of his face, brooding as he stared at Lord Karstark. The Northern lord sat across from Ned, the stump of his right arm wrapped generously with bandages. Evidently, the surgeons had worked through the night to staunch the bleeding, and it had taken its toll on the Karstark. His already pale northern complexion was a few shades lighter, and he was sweating profusely.

Finally, Ned's hands moved down to the table before he spoke. "You know my views on honor, Lord Karstark. I should behead you for breaking your oaths, yet I feel you have suffered much. The loss of your arm is acceptable payment for the attempt on Jaime Lannister's life. And the loss of your son will haunt you for the rest of your life. Therefore, I sentence you to live out the rest of your days in misery."

Edric's mouth tightened in sympathy. He had no love for the Karstark, yet no one should be forced to endure such hardships. Nevertheless, he deemed Ned's judgement to be fair. Lord Karstark begrudgingly stood, albeit with some difficulty, and bowed stiffly. He was certainly fuming over Ned's decision.

As the old man disappeared out of the tent flaps, Ned sighed and placed his face in his hands. "So many families destroyed by war."

Edric moved to the other side of the table and sat in the chair that Lord Karstark was previously in. "You realize that you could lose him and his men for this? Although I suppose that would be inevitable."

"He's right, Your Grace," Ser Barristan said in his low, gravelly voice. "He will surely desert you and return North."

"I can worry about one rebellious lord once this war is won. His head can wait to be removed until then," Ned said, rising to his feet. "Now, our scouts report that Tywin has left Harrenhal. We must move quickly and take the castle by surprise before he has a chance to return and fortify his position."

Ser Barristan bowed. "I shall give the order, Your Grace."


Mere seconds after the towers of King's Landing became visible, the bells began to toll. Austin stood, arms crossed, behind Stannis, watching he first fleet sail ahead of them. Stannis had given the first half of the fleet to Ser Davos. Once they established a beachhead, Stannis would move in with the rest of his troops. Deep, booming drums sounded from Davos' fleet, responding to the bells of the city.

Austin knew that psychological warfare was the first and perhaps most important aspect of a battle, but it was as of yet unknown if their drums in response to the bells had any effect. Minutes went by, some of the most tense of Austin's life, but all tension built to a crescendo when the entire first fleet went up in a green firestorm. The explosion ripped apart ships, and the shockwave even caused some of the men on deck to fall backwards. Austin placed one foot behind him and leaned into it, taking the impact.

Stannis clenched his jaw and turned towards the boats. "Prepare to land. The dwarf has played his little trick. He can only play it once," he said as he removed his cloak, revealing simple chainmail with plating down the center of his torso and collarbone.

Austin copied the action, revealing his House Dayne sigil breastplate, placing his helm on his head. His long, white hair now flowed out of his helmet, down the back of his armor as it hadn't been cut in a while. He watched as Stannis placed a foot on the ladders and glanced around at his men. "Come with me and take this city," he said simply, earning yells of assent.

Austin swiftly climbed down in the boat behind Stannis, telling the rowers to split off and head for the Mud Gate. He perched on one knee in the bow of the boat, saluting Stannis when the Baratheon King looked his way. The flaming arrows came first. Clattering against armor, sticking into the wood of the boats, and taking men in their chests.

As soon as the boats slid ashore, Austin dove over the side, his six and a half foot frame being a large target for enemy archers. He sprinted for the walls, men falling left and right of him from flaming arrows in their chests. He slammed his shoulder into the stone and took cover with another man underneath his shield. They were ten feet just to the right of the gate itself.

Just as the first wave of ladders began to go up, the gates open, and the lannister soldiers and gold cloaks sallied out, led by a massive, broad figure that Austin had thought dead. The Hound wielded a greatsword in his hands, and began hacking away at the men of Dragonstone and the Stormlands.

Taking Stannis' meaning, Austin led the counter charge, drawing his sword and ramming his left shoulder into an enemy soldier, knocking him off his feet, Austin stabbed down, then retreated when another red-clad soldier came at him. Baiting him into a thrust, Austin batted the sword away backhanded, then brought his blade back around and decapitated the man.

They'd formed battle lines, giving cover to the men with ladders, providing a buffer between them and the Lannister soldiers. As the flaming arrows sailed overhead, out of the corner of his eye, Austin spied the Hound cleave a man completely in two. He was just about to charge the larger man when the Lannisters sounded their retreat. They fell back into the city, closing the gates behind them.

Austin turned to face the boats. "Bring up the ram!"

As the black wooden stag ram was brought up and set to work on the gates, Austin sheltered against the walls again, out of the sight of the enemy archers. It was oddly quiet for several minutes, and Austin had just begun to wonder where the enemy had gone until one of his men was screaming and clutching the stump of his leg before a three and a half foot tall man killed him with an axe.

Tyrion Lannister himself had led the Lannisters outside the walls to flank Austin and his troops. Sounding the counter charge, Austin ran the first man he saw through with his sword, ducking under the next swipe at his head. A mace bashed the skull in of the man next to him, but Austin kept fighting. His armor and sword ran slick with blood, whether any of it was his was a mystery altogether.

He soon found himself with a handful of other men, the only survivors of the Lannister assault. A pause in the action occurred, with Austin and his four men staring at the enemy before hundreds of reinforcements streamed in from behind them. Charging again, Austin set upon the Lannisters and Goldcloaks like a deadly storm. The men behind him cut a red swathe through the enemy lines. As the battle spread out, bodies no longer packed together, Austin spotted Tyrion and a Kingsguard in a lull. Without warning, the Kingsguard charged Tyrion and sliced down, but Austin was already on his way.

He didn't exactly wish to save the Imp, but Stannis' orders were to kill the Kingsguard, so he ran the man through his golden armor underneath the ribcage. A shorter, stockier lad looked up at him from Lord Tyrion's side. From his manner, he completely expected Austin to finish the two of them off. Seeing the dwarf in the boy's hands, blood streaming off his face, Austin simply nodded to them before heading back into the fight.

He didn't have to look long, though, because the first sword he met seemed familiar. The darkness masked the man's face, but the bladework and unorthodox movements felt oddly familiar to Austin. Then, just as another flaming arrow sailed overhead, the fire illuminated the man's face, and Austin's breath caught in his chest.

Austin stepped backwards, eyes wide, trained on the man from the past. "Bronn?" he asked, removing his helmet. The sellsword stepped forward, blade at his side. He wordlessly nodded to Austin before his sword came up and the pommel smashed Austin in the face, knocking him out cold.

Just as Austin hit the sand, the Hound drew up to Bronn. The sellsword pointed to Austin with his blade. "He's a prisoner, that one."

"I'll take him," the Hound grunted, tossing the Dayne over his shoulder with one hand.

Just as the Hound turned, he saw green and gold banners flying on the ends of lances. Cavalrymen from the Reach under the banners of House Tyrell were intermingled with the Lannister reinforcing banners under Lord Tywin.

The Hound strode back into the city, Austin still on his shoulder. Ser Boros Blount attempted to stop him. "Where are you going? We're Kingsguard, we have to represent the King until the very end of this siege!"

The Hound scoffed. "Fuck the Kingsguard. Fuck the City. Fuck the King."

With that, the massive Clegane strode off. As they made their way through the streets, Austin slowly began to regain consciousness. His vision was still blurry, and his head was pounding, but he could tell that he was moving. He bounced uncomfortable for what seemed like hours before he was roughly tossed on the cobblestones.

"Stay here, be quiet," a voice growled before heavy boots faded away. Austin lay there, seeing stars for several minutes. He brought his hand to the side of his face and felt dried blood caked where Bronn's strike had impacted his skull. When the heavy footsteps returned, Austin turned his now returned eyesight in that direction.

Surprisingly, it was the Hound. The Clegane bent down and hauled Austin to his feet. Austin would always marvel at how he was dwarfed by this man and his brother. Nevertheless, he allowed himself to be half dragged to the stables, where he saw two fully saddled horses. The Hound stopped the both of them and spun Austin to face him. He smacked Austin on the side of the head to try and snap him out of it.

"Can you ride?"

Austin nodded lazily, his head feeling like someone had stabbed him in both eyes. The Hound tossed the Dayne up into the saddle of the first horse before mounting his own. He grabbed the reins of Austin's horse and led the animal and rider out of the stables, down the cobblestone streets and out of the city, away from the smell of pig shit and salt water.