Chapter XIII

Margaery

The ride to Bitterbridge was quite uncomfortable. The roads were in poor condition and the wheelhouse rocked from side to side for most of the journey. Margaery shook her head and peeked out of the window towards her brother Garlan.

"How much longer till we reach the camp?"

"We can see the tents from here, it won't be much longer."

"Remind me why we had to take all these precautions, we are bringing five thousand men with us after all."

"This pact is of utmost important to Willas, you know it." Garlan answered from his horse. "And with father practically a hostage in the capital, well we need to take precautions, we are about to deal with what the crown considers enemies after all."

Margaery sighed and headed back towards the wheelhouse, lying down and breathing heavily. It wouldn't be long till they finally had reached Bitterbridge, and she could finally start planning on the next step towards her final goal: being the queen.

The autumn storms had swept most of the Stormlands and the capital, bringing the war effort to a screeching halt on all sides. She just knew that the dragons had taken Blackhaven, and were marching towards Summerhall, no doubt preparing for a showdown with Renly Baratheon. Meanwhile, the young wolf had taken over the whole of the Northern Westerlands, no small feat according to Garlan, and because the Reach controlled the Blackwater Rush, and Tully forces held Pinkmaiden, Tywin Lannister couldn't send a host down the Goldroad just yet. Casterly Rock wasn't going to fall anytime soon anyways, if Garlan's judgement was any good.

Finally, the wheelhouse came to a screeching halt, and Margaery knew she had reached her destination. Quickly, she fixed her hair and descended from the carriage, escorted by her brother Garlan. The camp had been spared most of the hard rains, and as such her dress didn't become soaking wet as soon as she set foot on the ground, nor was there the unpleasant feeling of water entering her shoes. A blessing considering how the past few days went.

As she fixed her hair, she also made sure she was as regal as possible, showing off her jewels as best she could. If she was going to pull this off, she needed every advantage she could. Poor Willas thought about long-term, but his plans didn't have her as queen in the end, that honour belonging to another Tyrell. But she knew that with enough willpower, everything was possible, and she could make herself queen by the end of this conflict, one way or another.

She could have chosen the easy route and married the bastard, but as Willas said, the Lannisters were running out of allies, and Joffrey's rule was fractured. They had no allies and no resources as Lannisport was under siege, it was only a matter of time till they fell. No, the real conflict lied in the Stormlands, as the winner of the conflict between stags and dragons would surely take the Iron Throne.

And House Tyrell had a foot in each camp.

If the dragons won, then Willas could invoke the pact keeping the Reach out of the war, and the Northerners would accept it. If the stags won, well Loras held enough sway over Renly to make him forget this little treason and sign off an alliance with her hand in marriage in exchange for the Reach's support. No matter who won, she would have a shot at being queen.

Oh of course, there was the matter of the dragon already being married. But that wouldn't be a problem for long, if she could play her cards right. Her betrothed was younger, and as such perfect to manipulate. He was a warrior, not a thinker, and it would be easy to spurn him to his side. She didn't give two shits about who he was, all she knew was that he was a Stark, and as such would be kept close to the royal family. And that was her opportunity to get close to the king.

She could make her way into the Red Keep, as a lady in waiting perhaps? And then…sow chaos. It wouldn't be hard for her to get the Dornish bitch to have an affair. Dornish woman were wanton after all, and the princess' reputation helped in that regard. It was said that she bedded more men than Margaery had cousins, and that total amounted to more than ten. If rumours were to be believed, she seduced the king with her body and got him to make her his queen. Using this, all she needed was to set up the queen with a lover and then…well Margaery grinned from ear to ear. He would be mine.

She walked forward with Garlan, through the large tents flying the banners of those loyal to House Tyrell.

"We have to display our wealth and power." Garlan had said.

But she couldn't find the northern side of the camp. Growing impatient, she looked at Garlan, who shrugged and pointed to a small mount of a dozen or so tents, none looking impressive at all, but all were flying the direwolf of House Stark, with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen associated with it.

"That is all, a dozen tents?" Margaery scoffed. "Garlan, is this a joke?"

Her brother just shrugged.

"They didn't come with their whole baggage train, just five hundred men, maybe less."

"Oh, gods." She sighed. "Right, and who is the man who I am set to marry?"

"Let's go." Garlan extended his arm, which Margaery took with no hesitation, walking towards the largest-looking tent of them all.

Both entered the room accompanied by several guards, and were announced diligently. The crowd in the tent quieted down and many turned their eyes to a boy standing in a corner, his arms crossed, singing with his eyes closed as he rested on a pole.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes, shuffled nervously, looking around as he saw all the attention was drawn towards him. Margaery got a better look at his face then. He was a boy, maybe five-and-ten, but built like a man. He had curly auburn hair, which dropped right above his ears, and beautiful dark grey eyes. He had a large scar on his face, which extended from the middle of his right cheek all the way towards his right eye, narrowly avoiding it, while still splitting his eyebrow.

A nasty blade cut, but that made the boy even more appealing, she couldn't deny it.

He looked around nervously, before regaining his composure and stepping towards Garlan and her. He stared at both of them for a moment before nodding.

"My name is Brandon Stark, it is a pleasure to meet you, my lady."

The Stark boy took her hand and kissed it gently, before exchanging a quick handshake with Garlan.

"Brother, I think we can skip the pleasantries." She smiled, looking at Brandon, who raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you leave us so I may get acquainted with my future husband?"

Garlan nodded and the Stark boy got the hint, sending everyone out of the tent except for two loyal guards on her side, while Brandon chose to keep none.

"Not worried for your safety, my lord?"

"Having two men shadowing me won't make much of a difference if any of your men try to attack me, my lady." The Stark boy replied, his voice cold as ice.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" she offered, ignoring the veiled threat.

"Of course. But first, I need to do something I've wanted to do for a long time, if you could wait for a moment, I need to visit someone."

"Let us go then." She answered, as he extended his arm.

She took it, and both wandered down the northern camp.

"Why send so little men, is our betrothal not important?"

"Of course not." Brandon replied. "But we're at war. And we need every man we need in the Westerlands or Riverlands."

She nodded, and the pair soon found themselves in front of an ordinary looking tent.

"If you could wait outside, my lady."

"We are to be betrothed, there isn't much you can do from shadowing your every step."

The boy made no attempt to protest.

"Very well." He nodded and entered the room, where a woman was standing.

Was she her lover? No, she looked older, over ten years older than him. Who was that woman then? She was tall, with long, dark hair running past her shoulders and…was that an axe at her side?

"Hello, Dacey. May I talk to you?" Brandon asked.

"Oh, Lord Brandon, Lady Margaery, my apologies, I didn't hear you enter. Of course, what do you need?" the woman answered.

"It's not what I need." Brandon reached for his sword, and for an instant Margaery thought he was going to gut the woman where she stood. "But what you need."

"Lord Brandon…"

"Seven hells, Dacey, call me Bran, will you?" Brandon replied. "And no, I won't take any excuses. I know your uncle gave Longclaw to me, but it isn't mine to have. It is yours, by right."

"Lord…Bran." She composed herself as she held the sword. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything." He nodded. "Longclaw belongs to House Mormont, I have no claim to it. And don't you say it was a gift from him. If it is, then I gift it to you. You will make more of it than I can ever hope to. It belongs to you now."

"Thank you." She said, on the verge of tears. "Thank you so much."

"My pleasure. Take care Dacey."

And with that, they stepped out of the tent, and made their way towards the Reacher side of the camp.

"Why did you just give her a Valyrian Steel sword?" she asked, shocked.

"It wasn't mine to hold. Longclaw has been House Mormont's heirloom for generations. I have no claim to it."

"So, you just gave it away in exchange for nothing at all?"

"It was the right thing to do."

Northmen and their honour. That could get them killed one of these days, who just gives away something without expecting something in return?

"Tell me, how is Lord Robb?" Margaery asked, trying to steer away the conversation.

"He is well, although he complains much about the weather."

"And your cousin?"

"Jon? I haven't seen him; I think your guess is as good as mine."

"You call him Jon, not Jaehaerys, or his grace, why is that?"

"He will always remain Jon to me…to all of us Starks. He was raised with us in Winterfell. He was a brother, my brother. All of this doesn't change much."

Good. If they were close, then she could use that to her advantage.

"Were you close?"

"No. He and my brother Robb were, but not me. I kept to myself, mostly, and then I was sent off to Karhold." He sighed. "We had a brotherly relationship, but we didn't talk much."

Good. They are close as brothers, but not tightly knit.

"And what do you think about our marriage?" she asked him directly.

The question took him aback, and he stayed silent for a moment, before finally answering.

"I will do my duty for my house. And my duty to you."

Dull. Boring. But at least he wasn't totally useless.

"Tell me, Lord Brandon…"

"Bran, please."

"Only if you call me Margaery." She smiled. "Tell me, Bran, have you ever been with a woman before?"

"No." He shrugged. "Is it important?"

To me, yes. It means I can hang puppet strings around you if you don't know how manipulative and cunning we women can be. You'll underestimate me, and that is exactly what I want.

"No, just a silly question." She shrugged it off. "Would you like to accompany me to the stables? I must pick a horse for my brother Garlan's nameday, and I would like you to help me. No doubt a warrior such as you could help me make a choice of a good steed to ride into battle."

That seemed to have startled the Stark boy a little.

"Lead the way, Margaery."

Good, if he was going to follow her like a good little puppy, she was off to a good start. Now all she needed was to get closer and closer to him, for him to divulge her his secrets and her to lead him along. Mayhaps turn him against his family if need be, although she hoped it wouldn't come to that. Once the war was over, she could get close to the king…and then spring the trap, and let the Dornish whore dishonour herself. And then…she could take everything, and make the dragon king put a crown atop her head. But for now, she had to crawl her way out of this muddy camp in the middle of nowhere. But every journey had a beginning, and Margaery wanted to end hers on top of the world.

Tyrion

Tyrion poured himself another cup of wine as curses continue to fill the small council room. The council had been wiped clean in recent months, and positions were now held entirely by Crownlanders and Westerlanders. The shortage in men had landed him the position of Master of Coin, which he could've enjoyed if it wasn't for the daily ranting of his father and sister, and the threat of imminent death.

The imp sighed and downed another cup.

"What is it this time?" he said, wiping his lips clean as he eyed his father, who looked clearly distraught.

"It seems the Velaryons, Celtigars, Bar Emmons and a few hundred knights have deserted both Baratheons to join the bastard." Tywin snarled.

"It seems like he now has a fleet. Not that convenient." Tyrion shook his head.

"That's putting it mildly." Tywin growled once more. "What's worse, Lord Velaryon had been hiding Arya Stark, who is now safe with her cousin, meaning Jaime's life is as good as forfeit."

"We still hold hostages, don't we?" Addam Marbrand asked, but Tywin shook his head.

"Not since the Queen mother has decided to execute every northerner and exile the women!" Tywin roared, making Cersei sink deeper into her chair, frowning.

"They were traitors…"

"THEY WERE VALUABLE HOSTAGES! AND NOW WE'VE GOT NOTHING! YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE CUT YOUR BROTHER'S HEAD OFF YOURSELF!"

"Jaime will escape. The northerners won't hold him for long." Tyrion's sister tried to defend herself. Watching her squirm had never felt so good.

"I hope so for his sake. You've cost us the war, Cersei. We had Ned Stark, the perfect hostage to keep all of this from happening, and you killed him."

"I tried to stop Joffrey from…"

"YOU TRIED?" Tywin stood up, punching his fist on the table. "YOU LET JOFFREY MURDER THE ONLY MAN WHO COULD HAVE PUT AN END TO BOTH REBELLIONS IN THEIR CRIB BY KEEPING HIM ALIVE! NOW WE'RE SURROUNDED AND LEFT WITH NO ONE! YOU'VE KILLED A STARK AND LET THE OTHER ESCAPE!"

"Father I…"

"No." Tywin composed himself. "Not another word. You have compromised our position in the war enough. From now on, you will not be attending any council meetings and be confined to the Red Keep."

"I am the Queen!"

"The Queen mother!" Tywin corrected. "You hold no power here. His grace has made me hand and I still intend to win this war. The Velaryon's defection has provided us with an opportunity, and I intend to use it."

"What of the Reach?" Lyle Crakehall asked. "We hold Mace Tyrell."

"Mace Tyrell is as useful to us as cow manure." Tyrion interjected. "Willas Tyrell rules the Reach, and he is very happy to do so considering we hold his father hostage. We're doing them a favour by holding his father."

"Aye." Tywin shook his head. "His presence here has become a liability, but I intend to send him back to the Reach, where he will sow discord between the Reacher factions, and buy us enough time."

"Enough time to do what?" Terrence Kenning asked. "Robb Stark holds all of the northern Westerlands, including Kayce. Renly Baratheon still has a substantial host, and Jaehaerys Targaryen has taken Blackhaven."

"We've underestimated the Starks long enough." Tyrion nodded. "Uncle Kevan can hardly hold Lannisport. He will hold the Rock, but without reinforcements, he won't be able to stop the Westerlands from being pillaged."

"Which is why the Velaryons have given us an opportunity." Tywin smiled. "I have been reluctant to send my host back to the Westerlands because of the threat Stannis posed to us. But without a host, and with Renly's attention turned south, we have enough time to make a dash for Deep Den and force the Young Wolf to heel."

"You intend to bring him to a decisive battle? Sebaston Farman asked in turn.

"I do. Once we have destroyed the young wolf's host, we will burn the Riverlands to cut off any ideas he could have about joining forces with his cousin or Renly Baratheon. The winner of the battle between Renly and Jaehaerys doesn't matter, they will need to defeat Stannis before turning their attention to us, which buys us enough time for us to regroup and defeat them as well."

"Two marches across the continent in that short a period of time…" Lyle Crakehall shook his head. "This will not be well received."

"We don't have a choice." Tywin slammed his hands on the table. "I will lead the march."

"You, father?" Tyrion asked, his expression suddenly turning to shock. "Who will act as hand then? Who will command the city's defences?"

"You will of course." The old lion retorted without any hesitation.

"I?"

"Of course, you. You're a Lannister, you will have all the powers that come with being hand of the king and…"

"Father you can't let this monster govern…" Cersei tried to interrupt but Tywin sent her a death glare that silenced her on the spot.

"As I was saying. You will have to hold the city against any desperate attempt Lords Royce or Baratheon throw at you. You will have fifteen thousand men, and likely can levy more from the Crownlands if needed. You will have to control the king, and if you smell treason from anyone..."

"Heads, spikes, walls."

"Indeed. I will not have my last forty years of work to see the Lannisters rule the seven kingdoms undone because of a boy-loving stag, a fire-worshipping Baratheon, a lost Targaryen and a barely adult Stark. Am I clear?"

"As clear as can be, father."

"Good. As acting hand, this will be your small council. Lord Sebaston Farman will be Master of Ships, Lord Donnel Hawthrone Master of Laws, Lord Damon Marbrand Master of Coin, Lord Renfred Rykker Master of Whisperers and Ser Preston Greenfield will act as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard while Ser Jaime isn't present."

"How many kingsguard do we have left, anywhom?" Addam Marbrand asked.

"As Ser Jaime Lannister has been captured, we have Sandor Clegane, Ser Preston Greenfield, Ser Meryn Trant, Ser Boros Blount, Ser Mandon Moore and Ser Jacelyn Bywater."

"Not a very intimidating kingsguard." Tyrion sighed.

"It'll have to do. The Hound is on temporary duty anyways, he hasn't spoken his vows yet." Ser Preston Greenfield, silent until then, added.

"Any particular reason Ser Mandon Moore wasn't elected temporary lord commander?" Tyrion asked. "I recall my brother saying he was skilled and deadly with a blade."

"Conflicting loyalties." Addam Marbrand replied. "Ser Mandon might still have ties to the Vale as he was brought to the capital by Jon Arryn. And with the Vale in the Stark camp, we cannot really trust him as acting lord commander."

"A sound decision." Tyrion nodded back. "I suspect you've been named commander of the City Watch, Ser Addam?"

"I have."

"Very well, I will need the exact location of every single casern you have and the number of soldiers in each, as well as the number of soldiers manning the walls. I need to see what I am dealing with here."

"It will be done, my lord."

"On your own time." Tywin cut them off, raising himself from his chair and gestured for everyone to leave. "We have to prepare our host for departure."

As everyone left, Tyrion found himself alone with his father, who turned to him and frowned.

"Do not let your sister do anything stupid. Contain her by any means necessary, I will not have her jeopardize the war effort. Do you understand?"

"Clear as day, father." Tyrion nodded.

"Good. Then good luck with your new position, although you're a Lannister, you don't need such luck. I will see you again when we have sent the young wolf back to his winter hellhole from whence he came, with his tails between his legs."

And with that, his father was gone, and Tyrion was sitting alone in the council chamber. He wished he could share his father's optimism, but this was going to be an uphill battle, between the mob, the different armies gathering in the Stormlands, and his own family working against him.

He sighed and poured himself a cup of wine. Life would be so much simpler if he just ran away to the free cities. But for now, he finally had big responsibilities, and he would make his family proud, or die trying. Hear me roar, Jaehaerys and Renly, I will make you bleed for every man you throw at this city. I am a Lannister of Casterly Rock, and I will defend my family against those who wish to see it burn.

Jaehaerys

"You want me to do WHAT?" Jae exclaimed in surprise, pacing around Blackhaven's council room as Arianne shrugged, sitting down as her pregnancy was now fully visible.

"Name Daemon Sand to your kingsguard. He's a good warrior and an old friend…" Arianne tried to press the issue, but Jae interrupted again.

"Oh, no, Ari, I don't doubt that he's a skilled knight, but I cannot let him join the kingsguard." He replied

"Jealous?" she smirked. "Afraid I'll get into his bed, perhaps?"

"No." Jae shook his head. "But I do know he still harbours some love for you. I fear that he might try to get to you."

"Let him." Arianne smile. "There's nothing better than a man in love to protect the ones who matter most. Daemon wanted to be a knight, put a white cloak on his shoulders and tell him to protect his queen, and you've got yourself a good sword and someone you can trust."

Jae thought about it for a moment, but the thought of having Arianne's former lover beside her disturbed him. He didn't care about any of them, of course, but Daemon was ambitious, and he liked Arianne that was for sure. Having him next to her just didn't sit well with him.

"Arianne has a point." Oberyn countered as he paced around the room. "You do not have a kingsguard yet."

"The kingsguard is hardly useful." Jae replied. "Rhaella Targaryen was an example of that."

Oberyn nodded grimly.

"But it holds significant symbolic value, to the kingdoms and the faith. You don't have to abolish the kingsguard, but merely change it."

"An oath to protect the royal family as a whole, rather than the king himself?" Beric Dondarrion, the lord of Blackhaven asked.

"That could be a solution, with the provision that no fatal harm can come to a member of the royal family." Jae nodded. "Banning the stupid rule of knights having to be chaste is also something to be addressed, I won't ask them to keep their celibacy. They can take a wife if they so choose."

"And the law that dictates kingsguard members can hold no lands?" Beric Dondarrion asked.

"We can keep that one so that there is no conflict of interest between them and the crown. Their wives won't be able to hold lands either." Jae nodded. "And I will install a provision for knights to retire from a certain age if they so choose. Old, frail knights are more of a liability than an asset, except for a certain few exceptions."

"Wise choices." Oberyn nodded. "How many knights do you have in your kingsguard as of now? We will need them during the march to Summerhall."

"Ser Balon Swann defected to us from Renly's camp. He is a capable knight and a good sword and archer. His brother Donnel is one of the stormlander defectors." Jae raised a finger, and then another. "We also have Ser Andrey Charlton, a riverlander who came with the few men my cousin could spare from Maidenpool. With Daemon Sand, that would be three."

"Four, if you would accept my nephew Archibald into your service, your grace." Anders Yronwood added. "He is more skilled with the hammer than the sword, but he is a knight, loyal to you and the crown, and his force is unparalleled. Prince Quentyn vouches for him."

Jae nodded.

"Very well, I will have them raised to the kingsguard outside once we finish preparations for the upcoming battle." He finally let out, approaching the map set in front of him. "Renly marches on Summerhall, we need to arrive there before him."

"I suppose we need to catch him between the old palace and the lake…" Alyn Dayne started but Jae interrupted.

"No. I have another plan. We need to meet him on an open field."

"What? Renly outnumbers us, this will be madness!" Oberyn protested.

"And I need him to think exactly that." Jae stayed stoic as ever, moving the pieces along the map. "Renly will want a crushing victory. One where his knights will slaughter us. Except it has rained, and the storms have made the terrain very unstable…"

"I see where you are getting at." Alyn Dayne nodded. "But the terrain alone won't give us victory, even if we stand our ground."

"It won't, but I want to make use of every advantage, and one of these is a Northern trick we have been using since the coming of the Andals." Jae smiled.

"Heavy horse?" Beric Dondarrion questioned.

"Archers." Jae positioned an archer piece on the map. "We northerners make the strongest bows, from the best weirwood trees. My cousin has generously given me a thousand of them, since he cannot use them in his siege of the Rock. I have ordered three thousand more to be trained with the extras we had."

"And what will our foot and cavalry do?" Anders Yronwood scratched his head.

"Half the cavalry under Lord Dayne's command will flank Renly's forces along the Fallen River and cut off their retreat." Jae pointed to the river running behind Summerhall. "Lord Yronwood will command the horse staying with me, and Prince Oberyn will have the foot and van. Lord Gargalen will command the reserves."

"And where will you be, your grace?" Beric Dondarrion asked.

"At the back, to maintain order in the inexperienced levies and stop any rout from happening. But I won't go with the reserves either, if it comes to a fight, I will not run away from it." Jae answered sternly.

The men in the room nodded, it was a good decision, and with Oberyn commanding the vanguard, he would have to maintain order in the back. Regardless of what the lords thought of him, they accepted his decision, and he and Arianne walked out towards the courtyard, where Daemon Sand and Archibald Yronwood were summoned.

The two men rushed to the centre of the courtyard where Jae addressed the both of them in a serious tone.

"Good sers, your reputation as knights has been spotless and my lords have sung praises about you during my war council. As such, should you accept it, I would have you be part of my kingsguard. A new kingsguard." Jae turned to Ser Balon Swann, who was watching intently. "You serve the realm above all, and as such you may restrain members of the royal family should they try to harm other members, but may never use lethal force. You can also take a wife, though neither you nor she can hold lands or titles. Finally, you will be entitled to retire from a certain age should you or your monarch so chose. What say you?"

"I'd say it will be an honour to serve you, your grace." Archibald Yronwood said with a wide grin.

"Likewise." Daemon Sand answered slyly. "I will serve you, my king…and queen."

"Very well." Jae nodded. "Ser Balon, please get these men a white cloak."

Soon enough, both were draped in the white cloak of the kingsguard, and went on the march with Jae towards the fields of Summerhall. It was a short journey, but one that Hae dreaded. This was the battle that would make or break his reign. This was the moment he was waiting for, as little would stand in his way now.

Flanked by his kingsguard, his host soon reached the ruined palace of Summerhall, and set camp. Jae thought about Arianne, and their son or daughter, who was supposed to be born in no less than a month if the maesters were correct. He hoped her mother could be there with her in Blackhaven when he couldn't, and as dawn rose, he and his knights and foot set up the trap for Renly.

Alyn Dayne and his cavalry set off early so as to surprise the Stormlander host, who had been seen approaching the ruined castle in the morning. It was a sunny day when Jae finally saw them approach, their thirty-thousand strong host, mostly comprising of heavy horse, looking right at them.

And now Jae only had to wait. He knew he and his cavalry and foot would have no chance in a frontal assault and his men were loyal. Renly on the other hand was a brazen knight, and he knew he'd jump at the opportunity to attack. It had rained the night before, and the battlefield was muddy, and so Jae dug in, waiting for Renly to make his move, forming his army with his experienced cavalry in front.

"Lord Yronwood, have three hundred arches disperse into the woods." Jae ordered as the Bloodroyal did as told.

There were indeed a few wooded areas around the battlefield, and Jae fully intended to make use of them. Soon enough, the order was carried out, and the newly trained dornish archers dispersed in small groups into the surrounding woodlands.

Jae also prepared defences in the form of pikes and sticks in front of their position. He knew this would prompt Renly to take action, and take action he did. Not long after setting up a first line of defence in front of his foot, the Stormlander cavalry charged at his line.

"OURS IS THE FURY!" chanted the cavalry chasing up the small hilltop where his forces were stationed.

It was all on Oberyn now, he had to absorb the blow the Stormlanders were about to give them, regardless of the spray of arrows the were going to take.

Jae raised his hand.

"NOCK, DRAW, LOOSE!"

A first volley fired at the Stormlander cavalry, but did little. Slightly out of range.

"NOCK, DRAW, LOOSE!" came an order from the foot in the front. Oberyn had gotten the gist of it.

Suddenly the sky filled with arrows and those ones found their marks. Slowed down by the mud on the field, the arrows hindered the Stormlander progression, as a few men fell off their horses. Yet the charge continued.

"NOCK, DRAW, LOOSE!"

A volley fired, then three, then five. It was a massacre. Jae could see men dropping dead left and right during Renly's fanatical charge forward. But the Stormlander cavalry held despite this, and despite harassment from the archers he'd disposed in the woods, they managed to come into contact with Oberyn's van.

The clash of two forces was terrible, and he could see fighting was heavy in front of him. Still, the vanguard held, and he saw a second cavalry charge heading for the right flank, commanded by Desmian Mertyns.

"NOW!" Jae ordered.

Soon enough, a volley came out of the woods and completely annihilated the frontal cavalry charge. Yet again, though, the archers alone weren't enough to completely destroy the host, who came into contact with the vanguard of the right flank.

Edric, it's up to you to hold that flank now.

Yet, unlike Oberyn's vanguard, it seemed that the combined Dayne-Dondarrion force couldn't hold, and Mertyns was pushing forward. Quickly, he turned back towards Anders Yronwood.

"Lord Anders, take five thousand men from the reserves and help Edric Dayne hold that flank. I don't want the centre to be surrounded."

The Bloodroyal nodded and launched himself and the dornish reserves into the melee. It seemed to hold for now, but Jae saw that Renly was committing his entire force towards his centre. Footmen and cavarlymen alike charged towards the battlefield.

Fuck it, Jae thought, let's go.

He knew that Oberyn couldn't hold off the entire Baratheon host alone, and as such drew Dark Sister and raised it high into the air.

"KING'S MEN, WITH ME!" Jae commanded as he charged down the hill towards the centre, in order to reinforce Oberyn's men.

Flanked by his kingsguard, he urged his horse down and crashed into the Stormlander line. Soon enough, the fighting thickened, and after cutting down three to four cavalrymen, he was thrown off his horse.

Regaining his balanced, he looked around him, as the battlefield seemed to have degenerated into a brutal hand-to-hand combat style.

"Your grace, are you alright?" Archibald Yronwood came quickly to his aid, his white cloak already torn apart, while his hammer was already bloody.

"I'm fine. Where are the others?"

"I'm not sure about Ser Daemon, but Ser Balon and Ser Andrew were next to me a minute ago." Archibald screamed. "Stay close!"

Jae nodded and adjusted his helmet. Soon enough four men charged at them. He didn't even have time to blink as Archibald swung his hammer and gored three of them. It didn't take long for Jae to easily disarm the last one and send him to the old gods.

Archibald was a beast with his hammer, dispatching opponents as if it was nothing, as Jae only had to swing his sword a couple of times to get his opponents out of the way.

It felt like an eternity, but soon enough both Balon Swann and Andrey Charlton found their way towards them, and it seemed that he'd made his way very far forward into the Baratheon host, as the stag banner was waiving around them.

Yet the four made their stand, and dispatched enemies left and right, until Jae's head was ringing and his gloves and sword were red from the blood and gore of countless enemies. And they kept coming, overwhelming his kingsguard, who were trying to keep the Stormlander knights off of him.

Yet Jae struggled more and more, until he came up against a beast of a man, in a full body suit of armour, standing against him, wearing the colours of House Tarth. The man roared and lunged straight towards Jae with his sword. Quickly, he parried the blow, but saw that his adversary had already gone for a second strike.

Jae swung his shield over his head, parrying the blow as he finally went for a strike of his own, that the man easily shrugged off, despite it cutting into his flesh above the shoulder. Screaming, he continued lunging at Jae, who continued parrying his attacks, but grew more and more tired. He needed to find a killing blow and fast. Finally, he saw his chance as his adversary brought up his sword for another blow to Jae's shield.

This time though, Jae leapt out of the way, dropped his shield, and shoved Dark Sister into his left hand. Confused, the knight barely registered what was coming to him, as the strike tore into his right arm, disarming him.

Jae went for the killing blow, his opponent lying in the mud, defeated, but heard cries around him.

"THE STAG IS DEAD! THE STAG IS DEAD!"

"THE DRAGON IS VICTORIOUS!"

"JAEHAERYS! JAEHAERYS!"

Jae breathed a sigh of relief, and addressed the knight resting on the ground.

"Yield." He said, loud enough for his opponent to hear.

As if all energy had left his body, his head fell to the ground, the grip on his shield lessening and finally muttered.

"I…I yield."

Jae nodded as he and his kingsguard were joined by a few dornish knights, including Daemon Sand, who came running on foot, looking exhausted.

"Where in seven hells have you been?" Balon roared at the poor knight.

"I was knocked off my horse early." Daemon confessed. "His grace led a foray deep into enemy lines, I couldn't reach him during the battle."

"It's fine." Jae waived him off. "I'm alive, and so are you. That's what matters."

Balon Swann grumbled to himself and turned to the fallen Tarth knight.

"What's to be done with him?"

"He'll be ransomed. For now, he is our prisoner."

Balon and Andrey Charlton helped the man off his feet and removed his helm. To Jae's surprise, it wasn't a man, but rather a very unpleasant looking lady.

"A woman?" Jae looked surprised. "We have several women fighting with us in our host, but I ignored Stormlanders let their women fight. What is your name, my lady?"

"Brienne of Tarth." The knight answered. "Ser Brienne. I was knighted by his grace, King Renly, first of his name…"

"A short reign then." Daemon scoffed. "Renly Baratheon died on the field of battle."

"That's the righteous king of Westeros you killed." The woman hissed.

"Well, righteous or not, he is dead. And the dead do not sit on thrones." Jae shrugged. "You will be well treated, do not worry, my lady. Although considering your abilities, I will have you under guard, I do hope you do not take offense to that."

The woman scoffed and was led away by a few of Jae's men. He barely had enough time to recover, that a messenger in Martell colours approached him.

"Your grace, your grace, we've found Renly's body. You must come soon." The boy urged Jae to follow him, and he did, tailed by his four kingsguard.

In the middle of the battlefield indeed, he saw the fallen pretender, a fatal spear wound having taken him. At his side, Loras Tyrell, the knight of flowers, also lay dead, a similar spear wound having torn into his side, while his throat was slit.

"They fought hard." A voice called out to Jae, who instantly turned around. "But not hard enough."

He turned to see Oberyn Martell, grinning from ear to ear as he laid beside his horse. Obara was by his side, trying to quench the wound in his own chest.

"Prince Oberyn…what happened?" Jae rushed to his side as he looked Obara in the eyes, tears running down her face.

"Oh, I killed one of them, but the Tyrell boy caught me by surprise. I only wounded him, but Obara finished him."

"I don't give two shits about Loras Tyrell." Jae answered. "Your wound, how is it?"

"Fatal, I'm afraid." Oberyn chuckled, while Obara cried. "Don't weep for me Obara, we knew it would happen. Tell Ellaria I died with a smile on my face, and to take care of the girls."

"Don't be stupid, Oberyn." Jae tried to comfort him. "The wound can't be fatal, it isn't deep enough and…"

"He hit me with my own blade." Oberyn shook his head. "And well, what they say is true…"

"You must have an antidote!" Jae cried out desperately, clutching Oberyn's hand. "Tell me you have an antidote."

He practically pleaded, but Oberyn slowly shook his head.

"No antidote. No time." Oberyn slowly removed his hand from Obara's before clutching Jae's. "It has been a pleasure fighting for you. You'll make this shit-pile of a continent better, I believe it. This…" Oberyn's voice started faltering slowly "This…crown…is yours…don't waste it, Jae. Don't waste it."

And with that, Jae felt Oberyn's hand slip from his, as he watched life slowly drain from his body. It took less than five seconds for Jae to take a pulse, desperately searching for a sign of life, but it was no use. The Red Viper of Dorne was dead.

Jae spent a few tears, and Obara threw herself into his arms, weeping into his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry." Jae only managed to blurt out as Obara squeezed him harder, placing her head on his elbow, as he vainly tried to comfort her. "I'm so sorry."

Never had his crown seemed so heavy than in this moment.

Renly Baratheon, Loras Tyrell, Bryce Caron, Lyonel Wensington, Gladden Wylde, Narbert Grandison, Harwood Fell. All dead. The Stormlands were his. But he would trade all their lives for Oberyn's. He was a friend, and was a friend worth a crown? How many more friends and family would he have to sacrifice to get to King's Landing?

Jae clutched his fists in fury. Never again. He would do anything to prevent more of his friends and family dying. Never another Oberyn. Never.

Phew, that was a big chapter, and it took ages to write. I was supposed to bring it out yesterday, but I ended up watching the US elections and sleeping really late (or early in the morning really). Anyhom it's here, hope you like it. Next chapter: Stannis and Kevan meet their destiny.