Like a caged animal, Aegon restlessly paced around the Great Hall. His rightful place was on the battlefield with his men, not hiding in the Red Keep!
It is craven, Aegon thought angrily. A king who hides in his castle whilst his men fight his battles is not a true king. He stopped pacing in front of Lady Olenna who was sitting comfortably on a cushioned chair at the foot of the Iron Throne's dais. "I should be defending the Red Keep," he said shortly. "I'm not a babe nor am I an old man. My place is on the field with my men."
"No it is not!" snapped the ancient Queen of Thorns, tapping her gaunt fingers on the arms of the chair. "You might die. Where will that leave us, eh? It will leave us without a Targaryen king. I strongly advise that until you have a nursery full of sons, you stay away from the battlefield and other dangerous hazards."
Aegon took a deep breath. "That will take years," he said, gritting his teeth. "It doesn't take days for a child to be delivered."
Lady Olenna snorted. "I do not need a lesson in birthing children, Your Grace. I, unlike you, have birthed three children."
"I need to know what is happening outside the keep."
"Send a messenger." She languidly waved her hand and a Tyrell knight walked up to her. "His Grace wishes to know what is happening outside the Red Keep my good knight," she said crisply. "Go and speak to some of the commanders." In the last hour, there had been no reports of approaching forces – other than those of the Young Stag at the Iron and Dragon Gates.
"Will Lord Tarly kill the girl?" Aegon asked his good-grandmother. He disliked using hostages, but for once, Lord Jon Connington and Uncle Oberyn were in full agreement with Lord Tarly in using the hostages. "We use those of lesser worth," Lord Tarly had said, "and keep the vital hostages for later. We take the Usurper's bastard brother with us – the Usurper's mother would have established the Tully words into the Usurper since he was born. Family, Duty, Honour. I doubt that the Usurper will have the gall to watch his brother die in front of him.
"As for the northmen, take that Manderly girl. The Manderlys are one of Lord Stark's most powerful vassals. If the Stark boy refuses to surrender, she will die. I wager it will end the good relations between Houses Manderly and Stark forever. They are hostages," the Lord of Horn Hill had reiterated, looking at Aegon sternly as if he was a misbehaving or foolish boy. "Their purpose here's to keep our foes in line. When I take hostages, Your Grace, either they live the rest of their days in the dungeons or they are killed because their families fail to adhere to the pacts, agreements or promises."
"Always follow through with the consequences," Lady Olenna had added, her eyes fixed on Orys. "If you do not, you'll be seen as week."
Without much choice, Aegon had agreed.
"You are a coward!" The feisty Lady Wylla Manderly had accused when one of Lord Tarly's men secured her wrists in chains. "An utter coward!" Aegon did not say anything as he watched the two men drag her out of the Red Keep. The Stag Usurper's bastard half-brother had struggled and put up a good fight before he'd been hit in the face and knocked unconscious by Lord Tarly.
After Lord Tarly left to defend Dragon Gate, Aegon summoned all the valuable remaining hostages to the Great Hall.
"We are now locked in a siege," Aegon announced after the hostages mumbled, "Your Grace," out of obligation. "The Stag Usurper has started the attack. You will all be safe here – if he yields and disbands his army." He forced himself to look at each hostage in the eye severely like Lord Tarly would.
"What if he does not?" challenged Lady Catelyn.
"You will die," said Aegon simply. He glanced at Lady Olenna who gave him an approving nod. "A couple of you may leave the keep alive. Others…might not stay alive at the end of the day." His violet eyes rested on Catelyn Baratheon. "If that usurper reaches the castle, there will be consequences."
"You will punish us for the actions of others?" said Lady Lyarra, disgusted. Her hands touched her belly protectively. "Your Grace, you said to us many times that you are an honourable man. Do honourable men kill the innocent to punish those that are against them?"
"This is a war, my lady," said Aegon firmly. He turned to the waiting knights. "I want the hostages separated and guarded by three soldiers each." His gaze then returned to Lady Catelyn and Lady Lyarra. "You two will remain here," he said to them. He pulled out a dagger, the tip coated in poison. It was a gift from his uncle Oberyn before he went to lead a troop of Dornishmen at the Old Gate. People oft said poison was a woman's weapon, but Uncle Oberyn had disagreed. "If I am to die," Aegon said softly and strongly to the two women, "then you will die too. If it comes to my defeat, you will die. If the Usurper remains stubborn and refuses to cease fighting, you will be killed in front of him."
Giving Lady Catelyn and Lady Lyarra a final warning look, Aegon stalked away, leaving the two women surrounded by Reach and Dornish soldiers.
"Any news from Margaery?" Aegon promptly inquired to Lady Olenna Tyrell. He had a great desire to participate in the battle, not sit around like a sitting duck, waiting to be fed news by his generals and messengers. The sooner his lady wife sent the happy news of being with child, the better.
Lady Olenna shook her head, concern marred on her wrinkled face. "Nothing, Your Grace. The last I heard was that all was well at Dragonstone – that was quite some time ago."
Aegon sighed. Perhaps he should have brought Lady Margaery to Crownlands with him rather than leaving her behind at Dragonstone.
"Will you stab them?" Olenna said sharply. She nodded at Lady Lyarra and the Lady Catelyn. "If it comes to it, will you kill them?"
"Watch choice do I have?" said Aegon tiredly. "After that Duskendale battle, I'd have to kill hostages myself. Prove to the Usurper that I'm not weak and it's only by chance that he won at Duskendale and the woods. It'll be Lady Catelyn first – I admit I do not feel comfortable at the prospect of killing a pregnant woman. It's a crime that is worthy of a place in the seven hells." He glanced at her. "You and the Lord of Horn Hill were the ones who were adamant I kill hostages."
The Queen of Thorns tilted her head slightly. "Quite true, Your Grace. However I did suggest you give Lady Lyarra into Lord Varys's keeping. He will find a…safe place to hide her in the Red Keep. The Spider knows all the secret passages in the Red Keep. Surely that is a less sinful alternative?"
"Your Grace!" The Tyrell knight that had been sent out to survey the situation had ran back into the Great Hall, his bloodied sword in one hand and more blood dripping down from a long cut on his cheek. He shook his head. "We've lost many men. Reachmen, gold cloaks, Dornishmen. It's not just the Stag Usurper attacking, Your Grace. I saw a massive army approaching – Lannisters by the look of it, and sellswords." He hesitated. Suspecting something terrible, Aegon waved for him to continue. "The Red Keep will be surrounded in an hour," the knight said swiftly, looking away from him. "It's the most organised sellsword company that I have ever seen, Your Grace. They march in lines and have battering rams."
Aegon cursed. What in the Seven were the sellswords doing here? They were situated at Dragonstone! Unless…
"Never trust a sellsword," Aegon muttered. One of the stag loyalists must have negotiated with the sellswords and offered a better price. Just like Petyr Baelish bribing the gold cloaks to desert the Baratheons, the stags stole his sellswords to their side the moment they were needed!
"The Velaryon men have vanished," came the simpering voice of the Spider. "I believe they slipped out of King's Landing during the middle of the night. To my knowledge, Lord Sunglass and his troops went with them. Of the Narrow Sea, my little birds tell me that only Lord Celtigar remains your steadfast friend."
I should have expected it, Aegon thought bitterly as Lady Olenna demanded an explanation. When the stags captured Monterys, Lord Velaryon hardly said a word to me. He must have been planning his escape since his son's capture. Considering I even called him my kinsman! That was indeed a great blow. The Velaryons had oft been loyal to the Targaryens in the past; Aegon never considered they would be first to desert in the hour of peril.
"They won't be the only deserters," said Aegon's cousin Lady Nym Sand grimly, who had been prowling the Great Hall in a graceful manner. She was garbed in a calf-length linen yellow tunic, breeches and leather brown boots. Clasped around her waist was a belt of copper suns. A copper sun brooch clipped her yellow cape around her shoulders. As she eyed the Queen of Thorns suspiciously, she played with one of her many daggers.
"Oh?" Aegon glanced at Lady Nym curiously.
"When one man deserts," said Lady Nym darkly, "more will follow."
"They're at the walls! They're attacking the keep!"
Aegon shut his eyes. This cannot be happening. He was so close to achieving a lifelong dream – he was on Westerosi soil and had had the allegiance of the lords of the Narrow Sea, the Reach, Dorne and the Crownlands. Now he only had Dorne and the Reach as allies. Why has the Seven turned their faces from me? I have the blood of the dragons running through my veins. They should be pleased that I have returned to Westeros to reclaim the Iron Throne in the name of my House. Instead, the Seven gave me false hope and decided to bless the stags. I have sworn to end the brother-sister incest marriages – was that not enough? Aegon gritted his teeth. He could not believe this misfortune.
"Who?" Aegon forced himself to ask. "Is it the Usurper's men?"
"Lannisters," reported the sweaty soldier. "Lannisters and sellswords."
"The gold cloaks are useless!" declared Lady Nymeria. "We strengthened the keep's garrison the moment we received news of their march!"
Aegon pulled out his sword. He was already wearing armour. "We must all be ready." He looked at his Dornish cousin. "Are you with me?"
Lady Nym nodded, her eyes gleaming. "My sisters and I – along with our father – have been waiting to shed Lannister blood since your mother died, Your Grace. I will be honoured to fight alongside you. A pity the old lion Tywin's dead. Father would have liked to kill him."
Aegon thought it was the Mountain his uncle wanted dead. He grabbed his old shield that he had brought with him to the Great Hall in case he was needed to be fighting. As he waited for the last of the Dornish and Tyrell soldiers to prepare he turned to his good-grandmother who was oddly calm, and said, "You should go to your chamber and bolt the door. If it comes to the worst, the Usurper might grant you mercy due to your…age."
Lady Olenna snorted. "A foolish thought, Your Grace. Do I look like a frail and a weak woman to you? I have no desire to hide."
"It's for your safety, my lady."
"You go and fight." Lady Olenna settled on her chair comfortably. "I've already arranged for more Reach soldiers to wait outside the Great Hall. They'll fight for you, Your Grace. What do you want done with Lady Catelyn and Lyarra?"
"Keep Lady Lyarra here. If the Lannisters break in, kill her." Aegon waved for Ser Rolly Duckfield to grab Lady Catelyn. The Baratheon lady's lips were pursed, and her head held high when Ser Rolly took hold of her arm. Hopefully the Young Stag was with the Lannisters. Perhaps watching his mother die would break him into shock for an easy victory. Aegon shook his head. The great desire to secure the throne for himself was transforming him into a bloodthirsty and sadistic man. Like your grandfather, a voice hissed in Aegon's mind. Like the Mad King. Ignoring the thought, Aegon marched out of the Great Hall, Lady Nymeria and Ser Rolly on either side of him. Lord Connington, Oberyn and his eldest daughter Obara were all outside, defending the city walls.
BOOM.
Aegon froze. He signalled for Ser Rolly to push Lady Catelyn in front. Silently, and slowly, they made their way to the main oak doors that led to the courtyard. Here was where they would wait. The Reach soldiers Lady Olenna promised had slipped in line behind Aegon.
BOOM.
His heart pounding twice as fast, Aegon gripped his sword tighter. I cannot die, he thought as he waited for the massive doors to shudder open. I have no heir. I am the last legitimate Targaryen – I need to secure the Iron Throne and have a son to succeed me. I must stay alive. A sudden uneasy thought struck his mind. Earlier this morning, Lady Olenna Tyrell was adamant in him staying safe; now she was happy to let him go and fight? Of all the people present in the Great Hall, she was the calmest. Even Lady Nymeria Sand looked slightly concerned.
BOOM.
Another thought crossed Aegon's mind. Usually the Queen of Thorns had her messages delivered to her. She hardly moved unless she was forced to…yet she'd left her seat in the Great Hall at least thrice this morning.
This was a trap.
Betrayal…
Utter betrayal.
Aegon's hand shook as he stood still. What was he to do? Did the Tyrells have so little faith in him? Was his uncle, cousin and faithful Lord Hand all slain by the treacherous roses instead of the enemies?
"Your Grace?" There was concern in Ser Rolly's voice.
"Traitors," Aegon choked out as the great doors boomed again. "Tyrells…they have betrayed us."
The great doors shuddered open and a flood of soldiers with red cloaks burst in. Aegon stared at them as he heard shrieks of shock and surprise behind him. It seemed the Tyrells were as slippery as eels, switching sides already. They should take an eel for their sigil rather than a rose. Ser Rolly pushed the Lady Catelyn in front as if she was a shield. "Take care," he warned the Lannister soldiers and the traitorous sellswords. "Another step and she dies."
A sellsword Aegon didn't recognise stepped forward. "You are outnumbered," he spoke, his slate grey eyes fixed on Aegon. "Give up now. King Orys rides here as we speak. Your forces have been defeated. Surrender and you'll dwell in slight comfort; refuse, you'll spend the rest of your short life in the black cells. If you're good enough to hand the queen mother over to us now, you will prove yourself a man of honour."
Give up? After every effort made to secure the Iron Throne?
Never.
"You still have the chance to swear fealty to me," Aegon offered. "I have your nephew," he added, glancing at the Lannisters. He wasn't certain which Lannister was the Lord of Casterly Rock. "Swear allegiance to me, I will let him live. I might even allow him to leave King's Landing."
Another two sellswords stepped forward. Between them was a chained knight garbed in green and dull gold. A Tyrell. The knight had unkempt dark brown hair and his tunic was dirty. His eyes were large and brown – just like Margaery's. He was no doubt one of her many cousins.
"Tell him!" the grey eyed sellsword barked at the Tyrell knight.
The Tyrell knight swallowed and said nervously. "The Lady Margaery is with child." His eyes flickered to Aegon, terrified. "She told me herself, and it had been confirmed by the maester."
Aegon was half-elated and half-suspicious. Margaery was with child! He finally had an heir growing in her womb! Why would a sellsword capture a Tyrell only to bring him here to tell him the news unless…
No.
"Dragonstone is in Baratheon hands," said the sellsword, confirming Aegon's worst fear. "Lady Margaery remains there a prisoner. I heard from Lord Stannis's lips that if our forces lose, Lady Margaery, her unborn child and her brother Ser Loras will be killed. You and your meagre forces are outnumbered. You can die in battle if you foolishly wish – you might even get captured. Give up and surrender, you guarantee your lady wife and child will live in relative comfort. Our king's no murderer or tyrant. Give up now, and it will end better for you." He raised a hand and the shouts and clashing of steel behind Aegon stopped.
Aegon dared to look behind him. His eyes widened. About a quarter of his men were dead, slaughtered without a chance to fight back. Their blood streamed out of their numerous wounds and onto the ground like thin rivers. Was this bloody sight what his mother saw before she was raped and murdered?
"Margaery will live?" Aegon asked again. "As will my unborn child?"
The sellsword nodded. "I swear it on my honour."
Aegon couldn't resist a snort. "A sellsword's honour? You expect me to put my trust on the word of a common sellsword?"
"I'm no sellsword," the sellsword said patiently. "I'm Ser Andar Royce, heir of Runestone. Do you yield and forfeit any claims you, your unborn child and future progeny claim to have on the Iron Throne? Do you swear by the Seven that King Orys Baratheon the First of His Name is the true king and you took up arms in an effort to conquer Westeros? If you surrender, tell your men – and ah, women – to drop their weapons. Give me your sword too."
"We can still win," said Lady Nymeria determinedly. Her grip on her dirk only tightened. "You don't need the Tyrells, Your Grace. Dorne is-"
"We are cut off," said Aegon bitterly, the harsh truth stabbing him in the heart. He shook his head with a defeated sigh. Even if Dorne refused to betray him, they had no chance of sending reinforcements, with the siege a disaster. Why had the Seven abandoned him? Everything was going to plan…until he rode out with his army to Duskendale. He should have remained at King's Landing. He should have sent a raven to Dragonstone, telling Lord Connington to sail to King's Landing to start the Stormlands campaign. Aegon sighed again. To his knowledge, all of his Dornish allies were dead outside the Red Keep.
"Your Grace?" prompted Ser Rolly quietly.
"I wish to see Lord Connington once before I am sentenced," said Aegon.
Ser Andar Royce shook his head. "We heard he is dead."
Dead! Aegon was shocked. The man who raised him was dead! No! No! Aegon swallowed his grief. "If that is so, then I wish to see my uncle Prince Oberyn. He's not dead too, is he?" To his alarm, the Royce knight looked uncertain. "This is no trick," Aegon assured him. "I'm not stalling." He caught a glimpse of his Dornish cousin glaring stormily at him. "You would have shot down any ravens that I may have sent to Dorne," Aegon went on. "You and your men have the advantage here. Allow me to see my uncle one last time. Knowing the stags, we will both be killed. Let me tell him the news of Margaery's pregnancy. He will die happy."
"Sounds like a trap," said a Lannister man darkly.
"Very well," said Ser Andar seriously. "Please give me your sword."
"That's the cowardly way out," Lady Nymeria Sand snarled. "Do you wish to be remembered as King Aegon the Weak?"
"It ensures my child will live." What life though? What life would his daughter or son have? If Margaery births a girl, she would be sent off to a motherhouse for a cloistered life. If a boy…if he was allowed to be a septon or a maester, that'd be quite the miracle. Wordlessly, Aegon gestured for his men to drop their swords. He threw the dagger Oberyn gave him to the ground and handed his own sword to Ser Andar Royce. He silently watched Ser Rolly release Lady Catelyn who gave Ser Andar a warm smile before she stood by his side. I thought I'd be happy as the true king, Aegon contemplated as Ser Andar shouted out orders. Everyone said it was my destiny. If he was honest with himself, the thrill of being acknowledged as king was not as exciting as mastering a language back in Pentos. About half of the lords feared him – more his allies in truth – and swore fealty in order to remain lords with land. That was not true loyalty.
"Will you surrender, Targaryen?" asked Ser Andar, out of formality.
Aegon took a deep breath. He could still change his mind; he could die fighting for the throne alongside what remains of his staunch supporters. No. That is not for me. "I, Aegon Targaryen," spoke Aegon, "have committed treason. I plotted to usurp the Iron Throne from the…the Stag King." He could not bear to name Orys Baratheon the true king. "I took up arms and fought against his men. I surrender to his mercy." Ser Andar Royce's men swarmed around him like locusts, a couple of their swords and spears prodding him. More surrounded Ser Rolly, Lady Nym and their other men.
Resigned, Aegon allowed Ser Andar Royce to lead him back into the Great Hall. Once he walked through the Great Hall doors a king; now he was a prisoner.
At the beginning, the Narrow Sea lords were reluctant to support Aegon and with Monterys captured earlier, it gave the Velaryons and other lords of the Narrow Sea the chance to change sides. Amata0221, I'm almost finished with your prompt :) It'll be uploaded next week with the next chapter of this story.
