The six following chapters were supposed to be released at the same time than Jon X, but after almost a month without updates, I wanted to give you something yesterday. Now let's go with the six chapters describing the second battle to take place in King's Landing.
MELISANDRE I
She didn't ride away with the king. Her gaze remained on the young man with dark hair and grey eyes who stood next to Robb Stark. He was the one who questioned Stannis' actions. He wasn't a stranger to the king's failure to bring back these men on his side. There had been a moment when she thought Stannis would accept Robb Stark's help, as unlikely as it seemed. And then this young man asked the king if he killed his brother.
Now the king would have another army to fight, and although Melisandre knew Stannis was chosen to defeat the coming darkness, the Great Other, she didn't like the way events were unfolding. She told Stannis that he needed to sacrifice Cersei to the Lord of Light, that it would bring the Lord's favor on him, but he didn't listen to her. And now the result laid before them, and this young man almost destroyed any chance for the Prince That Was Promised to avoid fighting more enemies.
"You should have listened to me. Look to your sins, Jon Snow, for the night is dark and full of terrors."
She left them on these words they would probably never understand. As she rode back to the king's army, she couldn't help but wonder about what she just witnessed. She had found herself in the presence of three different people with power in their veins. Stannis, of course, with the blood of the dragon, king's blood, diluted but still powerful. Robb Stark, with old blood, this very blood that created the bond she felt between him and the grey beast that was right next to him. And, of course, there was this young man, Jon Snow.
She never felt something like that into a human being. This was something strange, powerful… unknown. That was the word. There was this bond with his own direwolf that could explain the power she felt in his veins, but there was more. It wasn't at all like the power inside Robb Stark. There were similarities, of course, but they were almost nothing compared to the rest. There was something similar to the blood of… Stannis. That must not have been a surprise, after all. All kinds of magic had common points, but still, it was…upsetting. Who was it she just saw? Who was Jon Snow?
The king was organizing his men, shouting orders everywhere among the lines of battle. Melisandre didn't know much about the art of war. Her focus was on the mysteries of her Lord, the only thing that truly mattered. But here, she had to admit, Stannis' competency in battle would prove very useful. The Lord of Light didn't grant him this gift for nothing. In the case Stannis turned his back on the Lord, he needed something to survive in order to go back to Him. On the other side, however, the army that was supposed to help her king only yesterday was preparing as well.
The Lord didn't grant her any vision about this battle. She didn't know how it would end. She knew how this war would turn. She had seen Azor Ahai reborn destroying the servants of the Great Other, saving the world from the darkness. But here, right now, she doubted.
She straightened herself. She couldn't doubt, not when the Lord of Light was with her. She had seen his wonders, and she knew what he was capable of. Stannis was his champion. He would never abandon him, even if Stannis turned his back on him for a moment. It would be Melisandre's task to bring back the king on the right path once this battle would be over.
From the other side of the battlefield, a great outcry came. The Northerners were provoking the king into battle, maybe. Her supposition soon proved to be wrong. The northern troops charged with all the force they had. Volleys of arrows struck them, reducing the numbers by a small margin. Still, when the impact happened, there were more than enough Northerners who fell to cause a huge shock. Melisandre looked as the men of the Prince That Was Promised fought those who should have followed their king. Such a waste, but it was the Lord's will and there was nothing Melisandre could do against it.
"My lady." Matthos Seaworth, the son of Ser Davos, came to her. "The king ordered me to escort you back to the Red Keep. It's not safe here."
She looked at the men battling not far away. Death was indeed close and would bring many men back to their Lord today, but Melisandre was no man. She was not afraid. She knew today was not the day she would die.
"If the king commands it…"
She looked straight to the young man. To the opposite of his father, he believed in the Lord of Light. As a result, he hesitated, facing a situation where he might have to choose between obeying the Lord of Light or following his king.
"This is the king's wishes," he just said.
Melisandre smiled enigmatically, as she usually did to trouble men. Matthos reddened, like most would. He wasn't fighting his nature like the king or his father did. No wonder Stannis chose Ser Davos to be his Hand. Both fought what nature gave them.
"I'll follow you."
It was useless to make the boy choose between his king or his god. She had no use for it, and it would be anything but good considering Stannis was chosen by the Lord of Light. Placing Stannis and R'hllor in opposition was not in her interest, quite the opposite.
They rode away from the battlefield, the Old Gate opening quickly for them and closing back as soon as they got in. The Onion Knight was on the walls, commanding the troops protecting the battlements as the battle raged in the plains. Their gazes met as she was escorted by her son away from the gate. Melisandre warned him that his son was not safe. He was going to die. She didn't how, when or where. The visions the Lord gave her were not always clear and she had to interpret them, but she was certain of one thing : the former smuggler would lose his son.
On their way to the red castle, Melisandre saw many people turn their heads to look at her. Most of the gazes she met showed hostility, anger, hatred, disgust. The people of her kind were not loved by many down there. But there were some nonetheless who embraced the light. They were few, but some people in this city didn't see the fire as a malediction brought on them by a foreign woman dressed in red. Some saw the fire for a manifestation of the Lord of Light and decided to follow him, hoping that R'hllor would save them from the fires that devoured their city even as Melisandre rode. She and her escort had to avoid some parts of the capital because fires were still burning there or because the streets were in such a sorry state that they just couldn't ride there.
Melisandre had done more to convert people to the ways of her Lord than Thoros of Myr had in years. Sent in Westeros to bring the light of the Lord to Robert Baratheon, he failed miserably, drowning himself in wine, food and women just like the king he was tasked to convert. No one chose to follow their Lord due to his presence. Within a few days, Melisandre already gathered a few hundred people who prayed with her every night outside the city walls.
Where was Thoros of Myr now? She didn't know. She asked the Lord of Light once, but all she saw was a forest. She put the search for this drunken Red Priest aside. She had more pressing matters to attend, like making sure Stannis fulfilled his destiny.
As soon as they were inside Maegor's Holdfast, Melisandre went to her personal room, still accompanied by Matthos. Once she arrived, she asked the young man to stay with her. She always made sure that someone else was with her ever since she walked into this castle. There was only residual magic in this place, probably left by the dragons that once lived there and whose skulls were now in the dungeons. She had gone to see the skulls once, with two knights accompanying her for safety.
Magic didn't frighten her. What frightened her in this castle was something different, something or someone that belonged to the realm of men, built against men. Every time she looked to the flames, the first thing she asked was if she was in danger. And lately, she always saw the same dark figure, roundly shaped, swirling in the dark, hidden behind the stones. That's why she always wanted to be with someone carrying a sword around her. She knew she wasn't safe in this place.
The fire was still burning in the hearth. She looked at it, focusing to read into its flames. This time, she decided her own safety would come second. A battle was raging outside, and she needed to know more about it. She searched for any image she might find about the battle. And in the fire, what she saw was… fire. Fire growing, spreading, meeting black ice that grew as well. Marshes. A huge shape falling. Then smaller shapes. Snow falling all around.
Then eagles, eagles heading north. Beasts fighting near a frozen lake among eagles. Then more animals of all sorts, water surrounding them, their bodies piling on each other as more came out of the water to join the fray and die so that others could replace them. And then fire again, swarming over the melee, killing everyone but not all, leaving a field of flowers in its wake.
And then people burning, screaming. Melisandre heard them all the time. Men screaming, roaring as fire devoured their flesh. And then the wolves. The wolves were burning as well. And the stag. The stag, coming through the fire, unscathed, imposing, victorious.
The vision stopped. It was time for this to end, for she felt the fire burning in her hip. It became more and more difficult every day. It was easier, back in Asshai, and it was easier in Dragonstone too, but here, in King's Landing, where traces of magic were so faint, every vision was hard to get, a challenge that added to the difficulties to interpret the visions correctly.
However, she reveled in the pain. The Lord of Light granted her wishes. She knew what to do. If only the king did it before.
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