A/N: Hi! Sorry for the delay! I've been busy and I got delayed with other stuff.
Also, writing fight scenes is a little challenging, so please bear with me.
But anyways, enjoy the final part of the Field of Fire!
Jaenyx slept soundly by Visenya's side as they took a break from the watch on the wall. It was one of the few comforts that they could enjoy together, but they both knew that it was going to end soon. How this battle will end was still a mystery, but they had much progress so far and they were winning. But it could still change. We must remain on guard.
"What's the matter, Jae?" Visenya whispered. "Are you worried?"
"Always," Jaenyx whispered. "I feel that we are so close to our goal, but yet, we are still so very far. And anything could happen. Even when we could smell success not far off, I feel that we should always treat it like a mirage in a desert until we actually see the water."
"I understand that, but I feel that you worry too much." Visenya ran her hand through his hand. "And besides, we already have a child, the first of many. We do have a future ahead of us and we're close to this oasis that you have just referred to."
Jaenyx bobbed his head. "I have a feeling that by the end of this week, everything will be over. All of us are impatient, we all know that this war has been going on long enough, and we all want to just resume peace in our lives. Perhaps… we should just burn them now."
"Burn them now?" Visenya was surprised.
"We have dragons and Rhaenys told us that both Loren and Mern are at the enemy camp. Maybe it's time we finally get this over with."
Visenya grinned. "If that's what you feel like doing, I'll ride with you. We can talk to both Egg and Rhae in the morning and we'll fly together."
"Very good."
"Alarm! Alarm!" The horn blew before it was cut off.
Jaenyx and Visenya both stood up, straightening their clothes and strapping on their armor as they both armed themselves for their guard that sounded the alarm.
But to their surprise, they already saw fire arrows flying through the night skies and their troops fighting at what appeared to be enemy bannermen. Jaenyx unsheathed Seablaze and he quickly realized what was happening after seeing a horde of enemy troops rush through the gap in their fortifications due to the river.
Damn! I should've known that they would do something like this!
"By the Fourteen Flames… they got bold!" Visenya cried out.
Jaenyx was quick to respond. "Vis, if you can, get Egg and Rhae! I'll hold them off!"
"No! We fight together!" Visenya insisted.
But Jaenyx kissed her hard. "Listen to me, please! I'll buy you time. At least one of us has to fight on the ground. After you form a plan with Egg and Rhae, join me."
Visenya nodded and kissed him again. "Don't you get hurt now!"
"I won't!" After seeing Visenya run towards the other part of their fortifications, Jaenyx ran to a Tarareon man. "Ready archers! To me!"
As the enemy horde rushed through the gap of their fortifications and quickly overwhelming the few men who tried to hold them back, Jaenyx was able to gather fifty Tarareon bowmen.
"Just say the command, Your Grace," Lord Tarareon said as he readied himself.
"Draw!" Jaenyx yelled and the bowmen prepared their bows. Once he saw a thick enough cluster of the enemy bannermen charging at them, he pointed with his hand. "Loose!"
A storm of arrows collided into the enemy horde, felling many in an instant. And to top it all off, Cloudwynd must've sensed the danger and had already took the skies, but she dived down and burned them with her blue flames. However, it was much too close for comfort, as the enemy was trying to mix themselves with the troops aligned with him.
Sorry, but I had to do something! Jaenyx could hear her apologizing.
Don't! You just saved us!
Nodding to Lord Tarareon, the Tarareons set their bows down while reading their swords and axes. And once Konno Haru and his men came to Jaenyx's side, he raised Seablaze. "Push them back!"
With a mighty yell, Jaenyx, the Tarareons, and the shinobi charged at the enemy horde as they were still trying to move against the current into their camp between the fortifications. Konno Haru and his men led the charge and attacked first by jumping and kicking the enemy backwards before slashing at them with their swords. The Tarareons dug their axes and swords into the enemy next, alongside Jaenyx who got his first kill of that clash by running Seablaze through the chest.
But as final clash of the climactic battle began, Jaenyx saw a single man in body armor emerge, holding up a rather menacing mace at him as he came into view. The sigil of the Warrior's Son was visible on his breastplate, and Jaenyx recognized him as the one who led that charge against Aegon.
"You are nothing but a pagan with a blade!" he called out. "Are you really going to hide behind your dragon?"
"I don't need my dragon now." Jaenyx prepared himself. "Do you really think I won't enjoy killing you?"
The leader of the Warrior's Sons stood there, like a brute instead of a holy man, as he was eager to talk himself into a fighting chance to live. Besides his mace, he reached to his side and pulled out his sword, a greatsword and that only meant that the leader had great physical strength. He took a defensive posture and smiled at the man who seemed to be hesitating to fight.
"I can see your sword, dragonrider," he called out. "Are you afraid to do battle with like a real warrior? Like the knights of centuries past?"
"I am not a knight. I am a dragonlord, but for you, I'll make an exception."
As soon as the words came from Jaenyx's mouth, the leader of the Warrior's Sons broke his posture and charged at him. He swung the sword with force and tried to crush his head with the mace, but Jaenyx had no issues fending off each attempt to make his flesh bleed and his head come off. After a few attacks, the leader of the Warrior's Sons backed away and again took a defensive posture.
"You're well trained," the leader of the Warrior's Sons confessed, which Jaenyx could hear over the battle. "I assume your training was done by the best, but it's not going to help you now, for I have the gods at my side."
"I have mine too," Jaenyx replied. "But your gods have not protected you or helped your cause. You will die before morning strikes."
Rather than respond, the leader of the Warrior's Sons charged at Jaenyx a second time and this time his attack was a little more effective. His second wave was a complex series of stab and cutting attempts with his sword while he used his mace to cave in Jaenyx's head, and while Jaenyx managed to fend most of them off again, the second last slice hit him in the side, taking first blood as the cut broke the skin and spilled his blood onto the dirt. It wasn't a deep cut, but effective enough to give the "holy knight" something to gloat about.
"That is a very impressive sword," the leader of the Warrior's Sons continued. "Under normal battles, most swords would have broken by now but yours is like a piece of rock, standing up to the large waves that crash upon it. Valyrian steel?"
"That's half of it, but maybe you should stop talking." Jaenyx hissed at him with teeth clenched. "You're beginning to strike me as not a strong man with your feeble chatter."
The "holy knight" didn't like to be interrupted and he again charged at Jaenyx, once again engaging in a long series of chops, stabs, and attempted strikes with his mace, but Jaenyx was again able to block most of them, except one that cut his arm inches below his shoulder.
Jaenyx didn't make a defensive posture this time as he could tell that his opponent was weaker than when they had started. He smiled at Jaenyx, enjoying the sight of his rival's blood upon the ground.
"You will not win," the Dragon called out again, "I am superior in the ways of combat, you wretch. If you think someone as weak as you, a believer of incest of all people could best me with the sword then you are more delusional than I first suspected."
Do you need help?
No, no. This is my battle, Jaenyx told Cloudwynd.
"You might be strong, but you are on the wrong side of history," Jaenyx snarled at the leader of the Warrior's Sons, his face then becoming resolute while trying to contain his pain.
"Let me give you a glimpse of what is to come," the leader of the Warrior's Sons just had to keep talking. "Once I kill you, I will then kill your wife, your family, and everyone you brought with you. Then, I shall lead the efforts to wipe out your pathetic little culture from the face of the earth. The world will never see the light of old Valyria ever again, and the dragons will wither and die, as they should've done."
Upon saying that, the "holy knight" attempted to move in for the kill. But to his surprise, Jaenyx was able to fend off his big move and the two men stood there, face to face as their swords were locked. Each man tried to use their strength to push the other away, but neither had the muscle to break the deadlock.
"Your resistance is wasted!" the leader of the Warrior's Sons screamed at him. "The future is ours, the faithful!"
Jaenyx smiled. "You have no future, and all of your kind."
The "holy knight" took offense and tried to use his free hand to smash him once more with the mace, but Jaenyx anticipated that. He unsheathed his dagger and stabbed him in the left wrist. Screaming in pain, the "holy knight" lost his grip on his sword and he dropped both the mace and his sword. Then Jaenyx thrust the dagger forward, maneuvered it through his chainmail around his neck, found an opening, and put it right into his throat. The "holy knight" staggered back, gasping in shock as the dagger had cut a critical blood vessel and his heart was pumping blood to stay alive. He fell to his knees, as the heart was slowing down and was about to come to a complete stop. He looked up at Jaenyx, his eyes wide with shock.
"You cheated," Jaenyx could heard the "holy knight" manage to whisper.
"That may be so," Jaenyx admitted. "But that's not going to matter, for you will die now."
Before the leader of the Warrior's Sons could suck in his last breath, Jaenyx took off his helmet and swung Seablaze to separate the "holy knight's" head from his shoulders with one aggressive cut. As his head rolled away, Jaenyx's attention then fell to the battle raging around him. He couldn't celebrate, for he stabbed Seablaze into the back of an unsuspecting Reachmen.
Must keep fighting. Must keep fighting.
Orys saw that the combined Reach and Rock armies were smashing into the wooden fortifications as described by Jaenyx, and he saw fighting in between the two walls.
Assessing the situation, Orys had to fight the urge to ignore his siblings' plan and wanted to charge forward with his men as well as his footmen and archers. Come on. You need me!
But just as he was about to charge forward eventually, Orys saw a red shape emerging from darkness. As it got closer, he was able to recognize it as Autumn, the direwolf of Brandon Snow. Looking around, he finally saw Brandon Snow arrive, along with Torrhen Stark.
"What took you so long?" Orys asked.
"It's all about timing, Lord Baratheon. What is a better tale than the bards singing about how the northern barbarians charged in and saved the day?" Brandon jested.
Orys groaned. "We're in the middle of a fight for our lives, and you're making jokes?"
"Get used to it, my lord," Torrhen was sympathetic to Orys' feelings, but he had grown used to his brother's somewhat playfulness. "You'll be seeing more of that."
At that moment, Orys saw the rest of the northmen, Valemen, and riverlanders gradually arrive. Once their cavalry and their infantry were lined up, Orys arranged his own to assemble alongside theirs.
"Well, what are you waiting?" Orys asked Brandon and Torrhen. "Let's charge."
"Not yet," Brandon shook his head. "Now… we give a speech."
"What?" Orys protested, but Torrhen shook his head. My gods, we had to have someone inclined for the theatrical.
Walking along the line with Autumn at this side, Brandon took his time before opening his mouth. "You've all honored your kingdoms and your ancestors and now we come to this most distant place in the Reach where across from us the Faith alliance has at last gathered a vast army, but look again at this horde and ask yourselves, what is this great religion that they fight for, whose leaders pays gold coins to come attack us, destroy us, and make us fight amongst each other, while their holy men are nothing but cowards who will never fight? What is this great King Loren who takes pleasure in bloodlust and attacks without provocation? Who is this King Mern but a king of flowers?"
The men laughed, and Orys had to smile at that.
Brandon continued. "These men might fight for their homes. But most important of all, they fight because their kings tell them that they must. They fight because a religion long decadent tells them that their gods will love them. And when they fight, they will melt away like the air, because they know no loyalty to kings who do not command true loyalty! But we are not here today as empty men following what others have told us to do."
Not entirely true, but I'll take that.
"We are here today… as free men of Westeros! And all their arms, their numbers, their knights and their fine horses will mean nothing in the hands of mindless fanatics. Some of you, perhaps myself, will not live to see the sun set over these fields today, for I, along with my brother, your lords, and your kings, queens, princes, and princesses will be in the very thick of battle with you. But remember this, the greatest honor a man or woman can achieve is to live with great courage, and to die gloriously in battle for his home. I say to you what every warrior has known since the beginning of time: conquer your fear and I promise you, you will conquer death!"
The men cheered, as did Orys.
"Someday I promise you, your sons and grandsons will look into your eyes. And when they ask you why you fought so bravely outside of these fields at Goldengrove, you will answer, with all the strength of your great, great hearts and with your unlimited vigor: 'I was here this day at Goldengrove... for the freedom...and glory...of all things that were here before us!' The old gods and the gods of Valyria be with us!"
With a final roar echoing from their throats, the combined cavalry and infantry charged forward at the unsuspecting rear of their enemies. Orys raised his warhammer Thunderfist and galloped into the fray from horseback.
Their enemies had not expected the dragons' reinforcements to come so soon, for they only had archers and light foot at their rear. As they continued to support the attack on the wooden fortifications, the heavy weight of the men coming at them burst onto their lines on the east bank, and it was clear that their positions would soon be overrun.
The combined northern and Vale cavalry smashed into the right flank, with Brandon jumping and tackling a bowman to the ground while Autumn proceeded to rip enemies to shreds with the strong direwolf bites.
For Orys, he and his heavy cavalry smashed into the center of the enemy rearguard. They first routed their skirmishers and archers before breaking Orys signaled them all to break into small detachments and smashing into various points of the rear line. It didn't take long for them to rout, for the archers and skirmishers simply ran back to their camp.
Orys dismounted his horse and began pummeling enemy heads with Thunderfist. Sweat stung his eyes like tiny vipers, dripping down from a face that was quickly being stained with enemy gore. All around was nothing but a whirlwind of disorder and violence, a blur of color and vicious motion. The parched, panting tongue collected the dust choked air which intermixed with the bitterness of iron. Deafening, blood pounded in his ears, drumming to a ferocious beat inside the helmet that paid homage to Argella's descent from the Durrandons. The sound was barely enough to obscure the cries of men, the screams of injured beasts, and the thunder of steel striking steel. Pain from a dozen wounds barely registered, being drowned out by the heightened, throbbing ache from the shattered hand which hung trembling on the right side. Above the lower scent of sweat was the acidic smell of all pervasive fear, carried aloft from clashing bodies that howled amidst a sea of scarlet liquid which drained from friend and foe alike, to soak a once vibrant field of flowers that also fed many.
With all of this violence about to overwhelm his senses, Orys cuts down Reachmen and Lannister soldiers like a man possessed. A few feet away, Torrhen swings his greatsword Ice, slicing through a few troops at a time. Brandon works alongside, knocking men onto their banks with a spear that he found and finishing them off with his sword. Around them, the northmen, Valemen, and riverlands fight confidently while the troops who were defending the approach to the camp were flailing under the onslaught. Some start panicking.
Orys begins to direct his men near him, when he sees a huge knight, belonging to the Warrior's Sons by the sigil, trying to charge at Torrhen, sword raised. Orys throws his massive frame towards Torrhen , pushing him out of the way just as the knight of the Warrior's Sons descended upon them. The sword found a gap in Orys' armor and stuck his leg, which he shrugged off as he got used to pain. Orys then turns, bashes off the knight's helmet and sinks his sword into his neck. Orys limps back into the fray.
Finding Brandon, the two men fight side by side while Torrhen joins them. And then surprisingly, Lord Reed. A stream of Reach and Lannister soldiers steadily fight to get to them all, but none ever get near, especially with Autumn helping them. Orys and his battle comrades have begun fighting for their lives with a passion and precision that was unbeatable.
Once they are among the camp, Orys, Brandon, Torrhen, and Lord Reed show no mercy while their troops begin to plunder the tents. As it was largely unguarded in their unlimited arrogance, everything was easy pickings.
To his surprise after Orys goes his separate way through the camp, he sees two boys with the Gardener sigil. These must be the princes, the young sons of King Mern.
Princes Hugh and John, recognizing the man who killed their brother Gawen, charge forward with their swords raised. Ignoring the fact that they were boys and it was battle, Orys overcame his compunction in killing them. He parried Hugh's sword with Thunderfist before stabbing him in the gut with his dagger while he pushed John away and crushed his chest.
"No!" He looked up and saw another Gardener man, this one being older. "My nephews!"
Orys wasted no time, as he threw Thunderfist at his chest, knocking him to the ground. He ran to close the distance and kicked his sword away before picking up his warhammer and caving his face in.
That was too easy. But where's the Gardener king? That was when he saw the dragons fly above and burning their enemies into black soot. They'll take care of him. Orys then moved through the camp further and joined with his men in plundering and killing off any stragglers.
Visenya swung wildly with Dark Sister, desperate at trying to hold off the enemy. Her way to her brother and sister was blocked by the enemy, and she found herself fighting her way through those that sought her death.
But despite Vhagar and the dragons flying over and burning the enemy trying to breach the fortifications from outside and only doing so for the inside when the risk of burning their own troops was minimal, many of the enemy were still trying to fight. In this, Visenya had to respect their courage, even though it was increasingly becoming vain at this point. They're fighting for their homes. I would fight like hell also.
The closest to Visenya tried to stab her in the belly with a longsword. She prevented it by parrying with Dark Sister and punching him hard in the face. That man growled back at her in contempt, as he tried to recover from the blow for a second attempt. Slamming her fist onto his cheek once more, she was able to stun long enough for her to move in for the counterstrike. His teeth bared like a wild animal after he recovered, as he aggressively tried to rush her and close the distance before she could stick him with Dark Sister. He managed to land a hit on her in the knee with his right hand. She dropped to a kneel from the building pain, but she then wrestled him to the ground and held him there with each swift blow that came after.
Visenya might have had a bruised knee, but she slammed hard into his chest, knocking the air out of him. Remembering how she was able to subdue countless lesser men before, she slammed her fist hard on his neck, crushing his windpipe. She stood up to her feet once more, only to be pelted by another a few meters down.
Son of a bitch, that hurts! Visenya had no idea how she was able to get surprised by another, but as she couldn't feel Dark Sister in her hands, she now had to resort to her fists, legs, and whatever she could find.
The one who was able to tackle her with surprise had hit Visenya with his metal glove, bruising her back and the muscles around her shoulder blades. She staggered, as she struggled to adjust to the hard metal fists that were pummeling her skin and bone. Growling through gritted teeth, she forced her battered body toward him. Keeping an eye on his target as he readied his fist for another hit, Visenya picked up a rock and threw it at his face, and that barely did the trick, for it landed on his cheek. However, it managed to turn his face away and his attention away from her while the rock glanced off of his body with a dull thud. It hit him awkwardly before it fell back to the ground. He did manage to shrug off the pain that followed quickly afterwards, but not soon enough before Visenya came upon him. Kicking his hand with her injured leg, she sent the knife that he was somehow able to unsheathe from his grip. Groaning from the impact, he tried to pull to stick her. Visenya was able to avoid the strike while she raised her fist and slammed it into his face, busting his nose. Seeing him fall, she leaned down and grasped him by the throat. She raised the dazed combatant up with both hands. Holding him in midair as he flailed at Visenya, he was desperately fighting to keep his life. It was cut short as an axe was thrown and became buried into his back, but the axe intended for Visenya. She saw who threw it, a regular footman by the looks of it, and she dropped the body and then found Dark Sister fortunately. With her true sword in hand, she charged at the footman.
"Shit, shit, shit", Visenya heard him frantically spouting off as she approached and went for the kill.
Visenya brought a heavy fist to meet the man's face. Before he's able to bring up another axe and attempted to kill her again, Visenya was able to close the distance. But deciding that it was still too close for an effective swing of Dark Sister, she hit him again with her fist. Taking hold of his arm with her free hand, she twisted it and forced the axe to drop from his hand. She then broke it at her forearm. The man howled in pain, unable to fight back with his axe gone and arm broke.
"You shouldn't have tried to do that." Visenya glare at him.
Visenya twisted around with his arm still in her iron grip once more. She grappled him over her shoulder, feeling his dislocate as she propelled him over hers. He screamed in more pain as she travelled to the very bloodied dirt below. Feeling his grip on Visenya's back from his good arm, they both tumble downward. They hit hard on impact with the unforgiving surface, and she could feel how damp it was from blood. She temporarily fell into a daze while the color of red filled her eyes from the blow of the dirt, face hurt from her hard hipbones. She could feel sharp pointed pain in her kidneys as the man was able to recover and struck repeatedly into where her kidneys would be. Visenya immediately responded, knowing that any further delay would result in her death. She tried to ignore the sharp pains of the man's assault on her back and proceeded to force her left arm between his legs and beneath him as he tore into her. Her other arm was trying to grip around for some part of him to hold onto in the front. All she heard was his fury and contempt.
Her hand finds purchase on his soft collar flesh where his neck and shoulder met. Visenya clamped onto it like a vice and pushed up from him, as he struggled to free his tender flesh from her grasp. Then, with a sharp push of her weight, Visenya heard a sickening crack of his neck. She picked up Dark Sister and more or less slashed her way through the enemy horde and found Aegon and Rhaenys struggling, with her brother cutting enemy troops with Blackfyre and Rhaenys using up all of her arrows in her quiver before she was able to slice across a throat.
Seeing that an enemy soldier was about to get the jump on Rhaenys with an axe, Visenya acted quickly and chopped off his axe-holding arm before circling around him, grabbing his jawbone, and breaking another neck.
"Careful!" Visenya scolded her.
"Thank you very much," Rhaenys managed before she found another quiver of arrows and continued shooting away.
"Don't you think it's time now?" Aegon asked after he got back to back with Rhaenys and Visenya.
"For what?" Visenya push kicked an enemy soldier away.
"To burn their hides with dragonfire? One of the Tarareon men told me that the northmen, along with Orys, the Valemen, and the riverlanders have now arrived at the east bank. They're going to need help, especially since it's dark."
Visenya smiled widely, as she was finally getting tired of trying to play it by Westeros' standards. "Shall we call down our dragons?"
"Let's," Rhaenys agreed.
All three of them called Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar down, all three of them burning any enemy troops who were unfortunate enough to be near them. The area between the wooden fortifications was big enough for all three of them to land, with Aegon and Rhaenys mounting theirs.
"What about you?" Aegon asked.
"Jaenyx should join us. I'll get him," Visenya answered.
"Don't take too long, Vis, or we'll start the party without you," Rhaenys jested.
"Don't you dare!" Visenya shouted back, causing Rhaenys to smirk before she and Aegon flew into the night sky.
Getting on top of Vhagar, Visenya held onto her spines tightly. "Get me to Jae," she told her.
Her dragon complied, as she bit and used her tail to fight her way through. It didn't take much effort, for nothing in the world could match a dragon in terms of ferocity. To be frank, Visenya had never seen Vhagar be this savage and she almost felt pity for those unfortunate enough to be caught in her jaw.
Then, Visenya found Jaenyx fighting fiercely with Seablaze. "Jae!" She got his attention while Vhagar protected them both. "Let's fly!"
"Now?" Jaenyx asked before he ran through a Reachman.
"Yes. Our reinforcements have finally come!"
"All right!" Jaenyx then called Cloudwynd down, who also bit enemies nearby and hit others with her tail. Climbing on, Jaenyx nodded to Visenya. "Let's go!"
They both took off from the ground. Against the starlight, they were able to find Aegon, Rhaenys, and their mother on Oceanwave. They assumed a circle pattern while they all looked for targets to burn.
"Just like the other times!" Aegon shouted. "But leave some for the rest of us!"
"Don't worry about that!" Jaenyx laughed. "Who wants to be first?"
"I'll do it!" Visenya screamed. Before they could answer, she guided Vhagar downwards. Finding the first batch of enemy troops, she finally felt the wave of pleasure that came from bringing fire on her enemies.
"Dracarys!" Visenya commanded Vhagar as corpses burned before their eyes.
Loren saw that the battle was turning against them. He had no idea where Mern or Edmund Gardener were, as well as their male relatives and Ser Adwyn. And everywhere he looked, he saw fire and smoke engulfing his surroundings. For any normal man, the senses being overwhelmed and the chaos of battle would be enough for the mind to crack. But Loren was not any normal man. I am the King of the Rock, the latest of the Lannisters to rule. I will not run, as lions don't run.
Loren rode through the burning camp on horseback, trying to see just what he could organize and maybe organize a counterattack against the enemy. Morning was approaching and once daylight bathed the battlefield, they will all be at the mercy of the enemy bowmen and the dragons would an unobstructed view of their army. We might just have a chance.
He spotted Lord Crakehall, as the boar allowed him to identify the head of probably the most formidable house that he had with him. "Lord Crakehall!"
"Your Grace," he acknowledged Loren. "I was looking for you."
"Here I am. How many men can you count, the ones who survived as far as you know?"
"I can only estimate two thousand, Your Grace. But we're scattered all over the field. It's going to take time to get them back together."
Loren nodded in response. "Get whoever you can and meet me on the southwest side of the enemy's fortifications. I'm going to see who else I can find."
"Yes, Your Grace," Lord Crakehall complied.
Loren galloped harder through the remains of the camp, and by some miracle, he found Lord Marbrand still alive. "Good Marbrand!"
"Your Grace!" The Lord of Ashemark looked relieved to see that his king was still alive. "Thank the Seven you are still safe."
"Enough with that, Lord Marbrand. How many men do you count are still with you?"
"Maybe one thousand and five hundred."
Still not enough. Loren was getting the idea that Lord Marbrand and Lord Crakehall were probably the only two major lords that he could find immediately, and he could not spare more time finding if there were more. And he knew where Lords Lefford, Westerling, and his distant cousin at Lannisport were.
"Assemble whoever you can get your hands on and meet Lord Crakehall at the southwest side of the enemy fortifications. Quickly!"
"Yes, Your Grace!"
He then understood that he wasn't in a position to be choosy with the men he came across, as of right now, there were Reachmen or those fighting for the Rock. There were only men who were fighting the dragons and those fighting for them. For that reason, Loren began to shout commands at any Reach knight or bannermen that he passed by on horseback, barking at them to assemble at where Lord Crakehall and Lord Marbrand were supposed to be.
All the while, Loren looked up and could make out the shapes of five dragons flying high above them, and they all assumed a circular formation. For now, they were focused on the parts of the combined army around the southeast side of the fortifications, which was on the east bank of the river that fed into Highgarden. Your sacrifices will not be in vain. He could only imagine what those men were experiencing as one dragon after the other burned them.
Having decided that he spent enough time already, Loren rode with the mixed force of men that he was able to round up and saw Lord Crakehall and Lord Marbrand waiting for him.
"My lords, report."
"I count one thousand and eight hundred men with me, Your Grace," Lord Crakehall answered.
"I report one thousand and four hundred men here, Your Grace," Lord Marbrand said.
Looking back at the force that he himself assembled, Loren counted about two thousand. Over five thousand men… shit, that's not enough. He wanted to storm the fortifications and mix his men close with the dragon's bannermen, as that would increase his chances of survival and it was something that worked at Riverrun. He knew that there was no chance of him escaping, as the dragons would surely spot him and burn him before he was able to make good of his escape. And even if he managed to pull that off, they'll come for him eventually.
I have no choice. It looks like I'm dying today. Loren initially thought that anyone who said that they didn't fear death was either lying or had lost their mind. He was very much afraid of death, as many would be surprised to hear if he told them that, but his mind was still sound. And yet, he saw that there was only one way that he was going to leave this field, and it would be as a corpse. He fully expected the enemy to desecrate his body, plunder it of whatever valuables they could find, and carve up his body into five parts, with the limbs to be displayed in the four corners of Westeros as a warning and his head to be the ultimate prize. That was exactly what he would do if the situation was reversed.
But I'll be damned if I am going to let the last words anyone says about me be about how I was a coward who ran from the field at the most critical hour. Taking a very deep breath, Loren unsheathed his sword once more, the blade covered in ash and blood, and looked upon the wooden fortifications.
Seeing the scared faces of Lords Crakehall and Marbrand alongside the men who for the moment didn't see themselves as fighting different kings but fighting together against a common foe, Loren decided that it was time that they heard words that hopefully echoed for the rest of time.
"What shall I say more than I have inferred?" Loren addressed his troops. "Remember whom you are to cope with: A sort of demons, infidels, and foreigners. A scum of dragonbreeders and Valyrians, all of them base lackey destroyers, whom their excessive traditions and practics vomits forth to desperate ventures and assured destruction. While we seek to sleep safely, they bring to us unrest and discomfort. While all of us have lands and are blest with beautiful wives, they would restrain the one and disdain the other. And who leads all of these shits now but paltry fellows ruled by women, too long kept in on a volcano while we ignored them to our peril? A bunch of milksops, those that never in their lives felt so much cold as over shoes in snow or felt the comfort of the summers? Let us whip these stragglers back to the seas again. Let us strike hence these overweening rags of a dead civilization, these famished exiles, weary of their lives. Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit, for want of means, poor rats, had hanged themselves? If we become conquered, let true men, men born of these lands, conquer us, and not these bastard dragons and incestuous breeders, whom our fathers have in their own land beaten, bobbed, and thumped, and in record, left them the heirs of shame. Shall these enjoy our lands? Lie with our wives? Ravish our daughters?"
Loren looked upon the fortifications once more and everyone heard the clash of swords and other weapons from the other side. Although the northmen and other reinforcements had arrived, he was not going to allow them to think that they won by sheer numbers and dragons alone.
"Hear that? I hear their swords, their cries. Fight, men of Westeros! Fight, bold defenders of their homes! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood. Amaze the heavens with your broken staffs!" Then, pointing his sword towards the wooden walls, the ones that baffled them throughout the battle, Loren charged hard while the men followed him to either glory or death.
Loren was not afraid of any traps, for the assault by the Warrior's Sons had used them up. And given that they were not any archers guarding on the walls as everyone else was occupied with the fighting, there was no better time to breach.
Once they closed the distance between themselves and the unguarded gate, Loren dismounted his horse while yelling, "Break down this gate! Now! Move!" Reachmen and his bannermen, the ones who were armed with axes, proceeded to chop their way through the gate. "Harder! Faster!"
After what seemed like an eternity, Loren and his men were able to break through and so far, no oil was spilled on them.
"Press on! Press on!" Loren barked.
But just as they broke down the gate and was about to throw themselves into the fray, the first to leave the gatehouse were engulfed in dragonfire. Shocked, Loren looked to the other side, the one that opened from the field that they charged from, and they too were bathed in dragonfire.
Loren's eyes widened as he saw Lord Marbrand was one of the unfortunate ones to be catch aflame. There was nothing that he could do besides watch as one of his most powerful lords was blackened and screamed for help before his lungs gave out and he slumped to the ground.
He could see the rest of the dragonlords' armies fight within the walls, but Loren would not be able to fight them, for he then saw a black snout emerge from the side of the gatehouse. The dragon's green eyes looked straight at him, and Loren tried hard to stand his ground. Hearing more heavy footfalls from behind him, he saw another dragon, this one also black and the snout belonged to the biggest dragon. And its yellow eyes were enough to make some of the survivors tremble.
Loren kept his grip on his sword tight as he saw a middle-aged Valyrian man walk in front of the black dragon with green eyes. What surprised him was that both he and that dragon seemed to share the same smile, the type that predators had when they wanted to savor their kill.
"Loren Lannister," Aerion Targaryen said. "We meet again."
"You?" Lord Crakehall recognized the old dragonrider.
"That's right, Lord Crakehall. For those that don't know me, I am Aerion Targaryen, previous Lord of Dragonstone. And your king harmed my son, Orys Baratheon."
Loren kept his defensive posture, but he knew that it would not do much good now. "I was wondering where you were, Lord Aerion. Scouts reported that they could still see you flying above Oldtown."
"Well, I couldn't miss the final battle between our forces and those aligned with the Faith," Aerion smiled widely. "And what other chance would I get in seeking revenge on the one who so maimed my blood so wantonly?"
"That's very right." Loren turned around and saw Aegon on the other side. "Like my wife Rhaenys and my mother Valaena both said, you will die, King Loren. However, we're going to give you a chance."
"What chance?" Loren spat.
"Your life for your men's lives," Aerion answered. "We'll let them live and you can die in their place. Isn't that what a king should do for those that fight for him?"
Loren saw Lord Crakehall's face, as well as those on the other men. They were scared and like him, they were very afraid to die. But unlike them, he wasn't going to face death with fear and he wasn't going to have the songs after his death be that of his unnecessary sacrifice. Turning back to Aerion, he nodded. "All right. My life for theirs."
Lord Crakehall and the men cleared out of the gatehouse after dropping their weapons, and Loren stood straight. "Any last words, King Loren?" Aegon asked as both black dragons opened their mouths.
"HEAR ME ROAR!" Loren yelled defiantly the words of his house as black flames engulfed him and the last thing he could see finally was Aerion's grin of satisfaction.
A/N: And there we have it, the final part of the climax of the Conquest!
Jaenyx has his moment to shine, Orys fighting and killing more Gardeners rather easily, Visenya riding Vhagar once again and showing her true potential with her hands, and Loren getting a final act of defiance.
Brandon's speech was inspired by the Alexander speech at Gaugamela battle in the 2004 movie (good battle scenes, but not great movie as a whole), Loren's was inspired by the Shakespearean Richard III's speech at Bosworth, and additional battle inspirations were taken from Arsuf and Dyrrachium.
Hope you all enjoyed it!
Next, we see the major parts of the war begin to wrap up.