After Two long months, the Battle for King's Landing is finally here! I would like to dedicate this to my Beta, MSquared79. She has been the best beta I could have asked for and a great friend. We both have had a very shitty two months but we both pulled through. You are all amazing and I hope you enjoy!
Arya
Everywhere a step was taken, there was shit. It was expected, of course, since the only path to travel without detection was in the city sewer. But the damn place had so little maintenance that it was the very definition of the very word shit.
They had all entered through a drainage grate just outside the east side of the city during the earliest part of the morning. There was barely any light coming from the horizon when they moved to infiltrate the city. Any less and it would have been too dark to see. Any more and it would have been too bright and they would have been seen.
The four of them trudged through the waste of the city. It came up to the ankles of their boots and was thick as mud.
"If anyone speaks of this after today, I'll tear their arms off and murder their family with them," Sandor growled.
"Believe me," Jaime said back as he led them through with a small lantern to light their way, "I'm going to do everything I can to-ulgh!" He gagged out as he spoke. "To forget this."
Brienne proved at the entrance that she did not have as strong a stomach as everyone else. She threw up constantly as they walked through the cold sewers.
Surprisingly, Arya didn't mind it all that much. It made her remember her time on the road with the Night's Watch and in Harrenhal. She never got a chance to bathe and smelled foul so often that she grew used to the smell.
Why Ser Jaime was having trouble with the smell was questionable. He spent a year stuck in a cell covered in his own filth. Arya heard from Alys Thenn who heard it from her father about the time Ser Jaime spent as Robb's prisoner.
They all remained mostly quiet apart from the groans of the horrid stenches that were trapped with them in the sewers. It felt like an hour had gone by and the series of tunnels they were walking through was a gigantic maze. The route Ser Jaime took felt like they were going around in circles. The filth they walked in was freezing aside from horrid smelling. Arya could feel her feet starting to sting from the cold. But they just kept on walking because there was no place to stop.
Eventually, they came to an opening in a dark passageway that resembled a hall of sorts. The filth they walked through had stopped and filled into a pool of sorts that they stepped out of and finally onto a floor of dirt.
"Oh thank the gods," Brienne praised as she rushed out and kicked her boots free of any muck she could. "That was one of the worst experiences of my entire life."
As everyone followed her example and kicked their boots clean, Jaime chuckled at her. "I think I'd rather fight the bear pit of Harrenhal than go through there again." Brienne showed a smile from that while Arya exchanged wondering looks with Sandor.
"Do you know where we are?" Arya asked.
"Not exactly," Jaime admitted, "but I can guess we're underneath the base of Visenya's Hill. We'll find out soon enough." Jaime held up his lantern and resumed leading them through the darkness.
They walked among the shadows that faintly shown from the dim light cast by the lantern. The lines of the stones forming the walls looked like snakes shivering down to the dirt floor. The cold in the passageways was worse than the sewer tunnels. Almost enough to remind them all of the war with the dead.
They pressed on in silence, passing other corridors and passageways, hopefully heading in the right direction of the Red Keep.
After they turned the corner into a new hall, in the midst of the shadows was a luminescence of light, green light. Jaime halted and tightened his grip on his lantern. "It looks like we found the wildfire."
They proceed with caution as they stepped through soggy dirt that stuck to their boots. The barrels containing the wildfire were dripping lightly and soaking the dirt. There must have been two dozen aligned on each side of the hallway.
But when the past that one section, they came to a fork in the tunnels when a morbid feeling fell upon all of them.
"And now we've found the rest." The Hound grumbled.
Down each corridor were rows of barrels dripping with wildfire. There had to be a hundred lined up on each wall. Enough to destroy Winterfell five times over and enough to destroy one part of the city.
"Weren't there some who were clearing it all out?" Brienne asked.
"Aye," Arya said. "Turncloaks from the Golden Company loyal to House Targaryen."
"Do you think they're still down here?" Brienne asked openly.
"Doesn't look like it," Sandor said. "If I die covered in shit and fire, I'll murder whoever chose to go in the fucking sewer."
To Arya's recollection, it was Jaime's idea. The glance Jaime gave him confirmed it.
"We're wasting time," Jaime said as he pressed on.
The number of barrels did not end, it seemed. Every time they turned a corner, there were more barrels waiting to be found. Seeing so many made it hard to believe that anyone was down here working at all or that they were adding more barrels instead of getting them out.
Finally, Jaime led them all to a passage free of green luminescence and barrels of wildfire. For once it was comforting to have the shadows and darkness surround them. Something about the glow of wildfire gave a sickly feel to everyone.
Suddenly, Jaime halted. He set down his lantern on the ground and covered the light with his cloak. "Shh… there's a noise. It sounds like footsteps." He whispered.
Arya stepped to the front of the line and closed eyes, letting all her focus go to one of her senses. She barely heard a thing, but there was something. The rustling and scrunches of dirt being walked on. There was more than one set of footsteps, at least five.
Arya's hand crept to Needle's hilt as the sound became clearer and so did the noise of voices. She opened her eyes and saw the flickerings of light.
"Be ready," Arya whispered as she slowly and quietly drew Needle from the scabbard. The others were just as quiet as they drew their swords.
As the torchlight and voices were as close as they needed to be, Arya sprang from the corner with Jaime right behind her and surprised several men. She knocked a candle out of a redheaded young man's hand and then whacked his leg with Needle before making him trip and fall.
"Wait!" The redheaded man said as he scurried backward into his companions' candlelight, "Ser Jaime, it's me!"
Jaime, Sandor, and Brienne had all halted but kept their weapons up.
"I was with Jon when we got you out of the city. I'm just glad I wasn't with him in Dorne."
Things were beginning to make sense now. Arya let out a relieving breath. "They're the turncloaks." She sheathed Needle and offered a hand to the redheaded man who kindly accepted it.
"My name is Duck." The redhead informed. "What are doing back here, Ser?"
Ser Jaime sheathed Widow's Wail. "You haven't heard? The Targaryen army is outside the city gates. When the sun rises, the battle for King's Landing will begin."
"When yer livin in darkness for months, the only things ya hear are rats," One of the other turncloaks commented. He was the eldest of the group.
"We barely go above ground," Duck told them, "only when we need to steal food. Even then, we go at night. We haven't seen the sun for… how long has it been since you won your war with the dead?"
"Almost two months," Arya told them.
"Forgive me, but who are you? I don't think this place is where little girls should be."
Arya didn't even blink at the unintended insult. "I'm Arya Baratheon, Lady of Storm's End and I'm here to help murder Cersei Lannister."
Duck's eyebrows shot up before turning his gaze to Ser Jaime. "You're all here for that?"
Jaime nodded. "We passed a cache of wildfire on our way here. A large one. It doesn't look like you've made much progress."
One of the other men grew angry. "We haven't a damned bit of progress! Do you know what we have to do? We can't have light to move the barrels and it's already a maze down here!" The eldest was standing next to him and put a hand on his shoulder to calm and comfort him.
They all had weary looks about them now that Arya really looked at them. They were thin and looked sickly.
Duck shook his head. "We started dumping the stuff into the sea at first, but that was taking too long. We've been mixing it with thick mud and burying it deep into the ground. But even still… if it's lit, too much of the city won't be spared when the flames start to spread."
This was shocking and angering to hear. It wasn't that the efforts made were not enough, but it's that they were so limited that what was done already was barely worth something.
"We can stop this if we kill Cersei," Arya told them in hopes to bring up their spirits. "Can you lead us to the Red Keep?"
Duck turned to the men with him. "Rowan, the maps."
A dark-skinned man just a few years older than Duck approached and retrieved two maps he had stored in his shirt. Jaime retrieved his lantern and shined the light on the parchments, illuminating both of them to show that one was filled with many markings of passages underneath King's Landing and the other was of the city above.
"We're about right here," Duck pointed his finger onto the map. "We're just north of the Hook. There's a tunnel that leads into the cellars underneath the Red Keep. But there are guards posted there and we're outnumbered and had to trade our weapons and armor for tools and food we could not steal."
"We'll take care of them," Arya said. "They must have found out we're coming."
Duck shook his head. "Those guards have been there for as long as we have been down here. There's a large cache of wildfire they're protecting aside from the entry to intruders."
Brienne scoffed. "No doubt to blow up the Red Keep."
Arya looked over both maps and noticed that the one that showed the underbelly of the city had many x's drawn on it and some of them were circled. "What are these markings for?"
"The x's are caches of wildfire we've found and the circled ones are caches we've cleared out." Duck informed.
Arya took the map of the city and laid it over the other map to align so that they matched positions. After getting a clear image of the streets and notable locations, she moved the city map off and noticed a pattern. "I think I see how it works."
"What do you mean?" Duck asked. "The way it works is if one cache is ignited then everything surrounding it will explode after it and continue on."
"Aye, I can see that," said Arya, "but the way everything is positioned, it looks like it's going to start at the Red Keep and spread from there. If Cersei is going to turn King's Landing to ash, it's going to start where it's closest to her, not somewhere else far away."
Duck and his men looked in denial about it at first, but then they all looked back and forth between maps and thought of the logic of Arya's words, they started to angrily agree with what she said.
"All this time…" One of them growled. "All this fuckin time…"
"For fuck's sake," Sandor said to all of them. "Are you going to bitch about it and waste time or are you twats going to show us who we need to kill?"
Duck folded both of the maps and gave them back to the one he called Rowan. "Follow me." Duck relit his candle and took the lead through the passages beneath King's Landing. When they came to a new one that was filled with many columns and a bit wider than what had been traversed so far, everyone could hear and feel a rhythmic shaking in the ground.
"What is that?" Brienne asked.
Arya took a guess. "I think that's Cersei's army getting ready for war."
Harry
It was a blessing to have clear skies today. That way, no dragons could hide in the clouds and catch them in a surprise attack. But it was so damn cold. Harry missed the heat of Essos. He could not wait to get back home to the warmth. First, he would find a nice whore and some damn good wine. But before any of that could happen, he had to lead his men to slay dragons and Dothraki.
He sat mounted on his horse as he oversaw his men marching into formation through the streets of King's Landing. Many eyes of the common folk peered through the windows of their homes to watch what it was that woke them so early in the morning. The light of the sun was just barely touching the roofs of the buildings.
The rumbling of soldiers was amplified when a dozen of the elephants, fully armored and armed, were being driven to battle. The beasts were fitted with a seat for the driver and a turret on the back that held fifteen archers. Their tusks were fitted with blades that would cut through any horse ridden by Westerosi and Dothraki.
They had lost a few elephants in Dorne, but Cersei was wise to put the care of the creatures as a top priority. These were the only beasts that would be able to fight off the Dothraki. Their horses were unaccustomed to the smell of elephants and they would lose control. The Westerosi knights and savages have seen mammoths and giants, but they would tremble at the sight of creatures bred for war.
Harry's peace of being alone was broken by the regular cunt who enjoyed intruding on him. Although, given the amount of noise made by the marching of the army and the annoying squawks coming from dozens of ravens flying overhead, there wasn't much peace and quiet at all.
"And so we march for war," Daario said as he halted his horse next to Harry's. "If it was just the Dothraki, we'd win without a doubt. But there are knights and giants and dragons outside those walls. Doesn't it excite you at all?'
Harry looked straight ahead. "I'll be excited when the dragons fall from the sky. Without them, the Targaryen have nothing."
"Without dragons, the Targaryens have an army three times the size of ours."
"Wars have been won against greater odds."
"Oh yes. Different wars and different armies." Daario mocked. "I wager all the gold we've been paid that half of the men on our side will run once they realize how far up the ass they've been fucked."
"You've never backed away from war and neither have I. The only difference between them and the one that will happen today is that this one will never ever be forgotten. We will never be forgotten. Everyone after us will just be piss in the snow."
Daario chuckled to himself and kicked his heels into the sides of his horse to join up with his Second Sons.
Harry sighed out and waited for the next battalion of his men to come by and joined them when they did. He noticed many gazes watching them all as the rode out. Eyes of people peered through windows. They didn't mean anything to Harry. But the other eyes watching, the ones of ravens perched on the rooftops, it felt like the God of Death was looking at him through them.
Harry followed behind Bloodbeard's personal guard, the Ferals. That crazy bastard was upset when he was denied the chance to kill Jon Snow… Targaryen, whatever the fuck he called himself, in single combat. Many would be. Kingslaying on the battlefield was a glorious thing to achieve. And now, Bloodbeard would have contenders for that title.
Even if the Targaryen's won a single combat fight, there wasn't a chance in any hells that there would not be a battle. All these men did not gather just to watch two men fight and accept the surrender of the losing side. No, these men were all thirsty for blood and there was no better place than King's Landing to get a taste of it.
The army passed under the portcullis of the Gate of the Gods and emptied into the fields passed all the houses and buildings outside the city walls. Harry rode his horse to the front lines of his soldiers. One of his men took the reigns of the horse as he dismounted and then climbed atop his personal elephant, Goldrush. The elephants were in front with ten horsemen in between each of them and the rest of his company was behind. He looked out to the fields before them and saw the Targaryen army assembling just as they were.
Harry eyed all of his men. "Golden Company! " Harry drew his sword and raised it high. "Beneath the gold!"
His men drew their weapons and raised them high as well. "The bitter steel!"
Jon
Cersei's army had begun to chant and make thunderous noises. They were all beckoning to fight and lusting for blood to spill. Even though Cersei's men were displaying a grand fierceness and no sign of retreat despite the odds, their attempts of mental warfare were not phasing anyone.
Bran's flock was already in the city as planned. All they had to do was wait for the right moment to deliver their message and hope that the people would believe the truth. If they did, there wouldn't be a single chance that they would stay silent and orderly.
Jon stood with Ghost at his side. Ser Davos and Ser Jorah were with them as well at the front of the army. Jon was fully dressed in his Valyrian steel armor and Wintersong was resting at his side. They all watched, almost entertained, at what their enemies were doing.
"Well," Ser Davos said, "they're bold at least."
"Bold now," Jorah agreed, "but it won't match a dragon's roar."
Jon chuckled. "We'll make sure they know that." He turned to face his Kingsguard and advisor. "No matter how this day ends, know that I have never been more honored to fight with you both."
"The honor is ours, your grace." Ser Jorah said.
Jon knelt down to his direwolf and nuzzled his nose. "Stay with Jorah, got it, boy?" Ghost gave no sign of an answer, but that was just him. Jon was glad to have gotten a direwolf and glad that he was able to come so far with him.
He left his Kingsguard and Hand and met with his dragons. Rhaegal and Lyarras waited patiently for Jon. He gave Lyarras a scratch under her chin before he mounted Rhaegal. Atop the dragon, Jon drew Wintersong and let it's steel sing as he raised it high. It was time Cersei's army and all in King's Landing to hear that House Targaryen has returned to reclaim what was rightfully theirs. "Winter is here with Fire and Blood!"
All the thousands behind and around let their roars explode through the air and echoed down to the city. "FIRE AND BLOOD! FIRE AND BLOOD!" Ghost let out a great howl followed by Lyarras and Rhaegal roaring out. Such a war cry would be remembered by every generation born after today.
The Dothraki screamers cried out as they began their charge. They rode together in a tight formation and for the first time at a slower pace than their usual war speed. There were still spike pits they had to avoid and even though Bran could point it out on a map, there was no way to mark the very land itself. They could only guess.
A group of riders fell forwards into the snow. They and their horses were impaled by the first of many spikes. There were dozens of groups that suffered the same fate. It was a tragedy that they had to die before the battle even truly begun. The ones who didn't fall through found the safe paths and all began to follow after them. It was a tight squeeze but they began to fan out back into a fast horde of deadly riders.
The Westerosi heavy cavalry followed behind them and all began to charge at great speeds, heading straight to Cersei's army.
An enemy horn blasted across the battlefield and Cersei's forces began their advance to meet the Dothraki. But instead of the Long Lances taking the lead like Bran said they would, the Golden Company's elephants were at the van, followed by many horses behind them.
The Dothraki archers had begun firing their arrows while standing on their horses, a skill that amazed Jon every time he watched. The elephants were armored as were the men riding them. A few Dothraki managed to kill the elephant drivers but it did not stop the beasts from charging. The elephants had bladed weapons attached to their tusks and swung their heads when both forces met. Screams of war slowly turned into screams of death as the elephants tore through the Dothraki and Westerosi horses. It was looking like a one-sided fight, but this was just the beginning.
Harry
Any man without years of training would have fallen off Goldrush's back by now. The largest of the elephants was half the speed of a Dothraki steed, but ten times worse and ten times harder to ride. Together with fourteen others, Harry rode in the tower platform mounted on Goldrush's back. It shook greatly, as much as a ship of Euron Greyjoy's fleet. But to the Golden Company, it was a steady ride.
Harry aimed his crossbow and shot true at Dothraki and Westerosi that made it past Goldrush's tusks as the beast bashed and cleaved through tens of them with nothing to halt or slow him. Any riders that made it by without getting killed by tusk or bolt were met with lance and swords of the cavalry of both the Golden Company and the Long Lances. He was right, this battle would not be forgotten as long as there was someone left in the world who draws breath.
"Brace!" The driver called out.
Harry turned his head and saw a herd of several mammoths charging together in an attack formation. They were unarmored and did not have any weapons on their tusks or troops on their backs. Their only advantage was the sheer size. All of them were as big as Goldrush. But this wouldn't be enough to stop the might of the war elephants.
Harry and his men aligned and held onto each other strategically as both herds of beasts came together. Despite Harry's initial thoughts, the mammoths proved stronger than they looked. Goldrush was bashed in the left of his body by the lead mammoth and shoved aside. The platform took a beating and one of the men was unlucky enough to be hit in the head by the mammoth's trunk. It was so hard that he fell and died as one could be. They broke past the line of elephants and began tearing through the cavalry.
Harry shouted over to the driver. "Pursue the mammoths-" Before the order could have been received, a large spear came from falling like absolutely nowhere and pierced through Goldrush's armor and killed him. The elephant collapsed, throwing everyone from the tower off and crushing the driver.
Harry came down hard in the snow, but not enough to daze him. He got to his feet and drew his falchion. He backed away from the path of riders and took to cover behind his elephant's body with those that survived the fall as well. Only ten did. Harry looked at Goldrush's wound and saw that it wasn't a spear that killed him. It was a giant fucking arrow, much like the ones fired from the scorpions. But the craftsmanship was wrong. This arrow wasn't made by a smith, it was made like a hunter's arrow. It was made by a fucking giant.
Another giant's arrow sailed overhead and killed another one of the elephants. The men atop of it were not as lucky as Harry or the others.
"Back to the fight!" Harry ordered and his men drew their swords. "Beneath the gold!"
"The bitter steel!' They replied back in a war cry and followed their captain out of cover to fight those that were unhorsed but not dead.
There were so many types of warriors to choose from. Dornish knights wielding spears, Dothraki dual-wielding arakhs, Knights of the Westerlands who sided with Ser Jaime instead of Cersei. The chaos of battle was waiting for Harry to jump into, and he gladly did.
Jon
Both sides were beginning to launch ordinance. Catapults from within the city began throwing balls of wildfire into the battlefield while the giants shot their enormous arrows from the hills where Sam commanded and guided their aim. But the battle was becoming thick now. It was time for the dragons to have their turn.
Jon gripped tightly onto Rhaegal and immediately both of the dragons took flight. The last of the cavalry was through the lines of spike traps. Rhaegal and Lyarras glided over the infantry moving in to join the battle. They began climbing higher into the air as the elevation of the land lowered. There was a perfect spot with Cersei's forces moving to fight. The dragons banked to fly to it and awaited Jon's command.
"Dracarys!" Rhaegal and Lyarras unleashed their flames below and dozens of screams filled the air. It became a hundred and then hundreds as the flames continued to flow down onto the field of battle. Jon kept his gaze at the city while it all happened and could see the firing of many scorpion bolts at him and the dragons. He steered Rhaegal to dodge as the bolts came. One of them grazed Rhaegal's neck but the rest had missed. But there were only a dozen or so that were shot and there were plenty more aimed at them.
With one pass done, the dragons flew away from the city, keeping out of range of Cersei's weapons.
Jon looked down to the battlefield and studied his next move. A group of the elephants had broken off and joined a great many men to make a charge and tear through Jon's army. It would deal a heavy blow and kill many. But not if Jon got there first.
The dragons swooped down to those that would share the fate of their first victims. It was going to be within range, but they had to take that risk.
"Draca-" Jon didn't have time to give the command. The next volley of bolts was shot. These ones were in greater number and spread out more. He held on tightly as Rhaegal turned sharply to evade the incoming projectiles. His efforts were not as great as the first time. A bolt pierced his tail close to his body. But that wasn't the worst of it.
One of the bolts that Rhaegal did manage to evade found a new mark. Lyarras was stuck in her belly and cried out in such great pain. Her wings lost the grip of the air and she fell out of the sky. They were low to ground already, but it didn't make her impact look any less terrifying. She crashed hard in the midst of the battlefield, creating a trail of dirt and snow were her body slid before stopping next to a small rise in the land untouched by the battle.
Jon couldn't take his eyes away from his dragon, his last daughter. She wasn't moving, not a muscle. He couldn't contain himself. He yelled out the pain of his heart after watching the last of his daughters fall before his eyes.
Rage replaced his misery and he turned his gaze back to what should have already been engulfed in flames. He hardly had any control over Rhaegal when the dragon flew down for a second attempt. Again, bolts were fired but Rhaegal merely flew faster to avoid them. None of the bolts found their mark and Rhaegal wouldn't change course as the next wave took aim.
Fire rained down on the Golden Company's elephants and their soldiers. Not as many as before were set aflame, but enough that their plan of attack was thwarted. But Rhaegal's fire ended when a second bolt pierced his body. This time, it was in the right shoulder. A third found its way into his torso. Rhaegal cried out and bled heavily over the battlefield but refused to fall.
"Rhaegal! Fly away!" Jon begged, but Rhaegal wouldn't listen. His dragon unleashed his fires again over more of Cersei's sellswords, but only after a few seconds did he finally give in to the pain and crashed into the battlefield.
Arya
"How many do you count?" Jaime asked.
Arya peeked around the corner as carefully as she could, searching for as many guards that she could see in the torchlight. Even with the turncloaks, they were outnumbered by two. The men in Lannister red stood vigil to the entrance of the main wildfire cache. Each of them was armed with a spear and a shield and swords at their sides.
Arya pulled her head from around the corner. "Sixteen. Too many," she whispered. If they went in charging head-on, they would meet a solid defensive wall and fail. There was no direction to surprise them at all. This wasn't going to be easy.
"Anyone have any ideas?" Duck whispered.
Before anyone could give an answer, two of Duck's men ran past them all out in the open, unarmed and in clear view of the Lannister men.
Arya peered around the corner again and watched what they did.
One of the men scooped up some dirt and flung it at the Lannister men who took a defensive stance. "You pigs will burn in the seven hells while I fuck your wives!"
"Your Queen's a whore who sucks Walder Frey's rotting cock!" the other mocked.
Both of the men made their taunts as obnoxious as they could and then took off running when one of the Lannister guards threw a spear at them and missed.
"Get after them!" The man in charge shouted. Six men took into a chase after the two.
Arya turned back and looked at everyone behind her. "Now there's only ten."
"That's enough," Sandor said as he raised Heartsbane and made for the rest. Arya drew Needle and her Valyrian dagger and followed him along with Jaime and Brienne.
The Lannister men were still focused on watching where the two distractors had been chased off to that they did not notice Sandor coming from behind until he let out a loud growl. They all turned around just as the blade of Heartsbane cut through three necks at once, decapitating the men.
Arya dodged under a spear and with a quick swipe with Needle she slit the throat of the man attacking her. She quickly turned around and threw her dagger and it landed it the neck of another guard.
"Come back! We're under atta-" The guard didn't even finish his sentence when Brienne cut through him with Oathkeeper. The clanging of steel echoed through the cellars and hallways of King's Landing.
Duck and the rest of his men joined the fight and scavenged what they could from the fallen. But by the time they did, the ten Lannister guards were already dead and the six who left had returned. Three of the spears the Lannister men carried were stained with blood. One of the soldiers saw the mess and ran off, not of panic but alarm. He did not get very far after a spear was thrown into his back.
"Do not let them escape!" Duck ordered. He raised a shield with his men and chased after the Lannister guards. Sandor did the incredible and hurled Heartsbane at the six. The throw was so powerful that Heartsbane chopped into one of the Lannister guard's shoulders and dug all the way into the middle of his chest.
The remaining four were finished off easily but not before they managed to take one more of Duck's men with them.
Arya sheathed Needle, retrieved her dagger and followed Ser Jaime to the door the Lannister men were guarding. He pulled the iron bar that kept it closed off and opened it. When they peered inside, they saw more wildfire than anywhere else they had been. There must have been over two hundred barrels, all of them leaking the green sludge of wildfire.
"This will destroy the entire Red Keep," Jaime said aghast, his face white as a sheet.
Duck and two of his men came from behind. "We'll never get it out of here in time." Duck said.
"No, but you can find how it connects to the rest of the wildfire under the city. Then just sever the connection," Jaime said, turning around. "We'll do what we can as fast as we can. You do the same and make sure no one gets even a spark near this door."
Duck rolled his eyes and shook his head at Ser Jaime. "Fucking Lannisters. Come on, we don't have time!" Duck and five of his men shoved past Jaime and Arya and descended down the stairs that led into the room. Their only light was that of the green of the wildfire.
The remaining two of the Golden Company turncloaks stood guard while Arya and the others proceeded to infiltrate the Red Keep. The followed the only passageway and soon passed the bodies of the two men who gave their lives to distract the Lannister guards.
Arya drew Needle when they came to a stairwell illuminated by daylight pouring in through a small window. Jaime took the lead and led them up to the stairs and throughout the lower levels of the Red Keep. Eventually, they came through a door that led to the main level of the castle. The entire place felt barren. Where there was once a flock of perfumed nobles everywhere one looked, there was no one.
"This way," Jaime spoke softly.
Arya did not remember much of where she was from her time living here. It had been so long since those days and she was more focused on where to find Syrio and her father rather than where to find Cersei Lannister.
Things began to become familiar shortly soon though, especially when they came to the large doors leading to the throne room.
Sandor pushed them open slowly and peered through. "Oh, fuck." He pushed the door open the rest of the way and revealed the inside.
Cersei was glaring down at them from the Iron Throne. The Mountain stood at her right and her Queensguard down the steps in front. Along with them were several others. They stood like statues and almost felt dead, similar to how the Mountain was. Only the Queensguard had their weapons drawn.
"When I heard you were not with your bastard king, I suspected you would be coming for me," Cersei said. Her eyes were fixed on Jaime.
Arya scoffed at the bitch. "I would have been here sooner had I not been distracted. Better late than never," she responded with a casual shrug.
Cersei smirked as she switched focus to Arya. "The little wolf come to avenge her traitor daddy with a cow knight and gimpy dog." She stood from the throne and walked away from them all. "Leave my brother alive, kill the rest."
The Mountain and other soldiers all drew their weapons and kept their focus on everyone except Jaime.
Arya raised Needle and stood side face, waiting for the first who dared to challenge her.
Jon
Every roar he gave fueled his will to fight. Jon killed man after man who came to try and put an end to Rhaegal's life and his. Jon would not let anyone pass, no matter who came. Rhaegal was barely alive. He wouldn't let another one of the last dragons be killed. He wouldn't fail Dany again.
Jon clashed Wintersong with a scimitar and at the same time, he darted his head to the side from a spear that nearly cut him. Jon grabbed the spear by the shaft and used it to push back both his attackers, men from the Company of the Rose. He countered the scimitar with a riposte and drove his sword into the man's neck enough to it was fatal and crippling and then quickly carried the spear once again. This time, he allowed the spear to strike against his armor. The tip bent and slid to the side while the Valyrian steel wasn't even scratched. Jon grabbed hold of the spear again and trapped it before stabbing the last man, piercing his boiled leather easily. Both bodies fell, but more men were coming. It was like they in waves, giving Jon only a few seconds of respite.
More were coming this time, far more. Jon was lucky enough that Rhaegal landed where the fighting was thinned, but it wouldn't be that way for long. The enemy troops were growing in number and all of them were coming for him.
Jon heard a rustling behind him and turned around to see Rhaegal pulling together the last bit of strength he could. The great dragon unleashed one last burst of fire. There were very few he hit, but the dragon created an uncrossable wall of flames, keeping all away for now. That was it, however. Rhaegal collapsed and his eyes slowly shut.
Jon furiously cut down the only man who was already past the wall of fire before going to his dragon. He removed his glove and laid his bare hand over Rhaegal's snout, hoping to feel anything from the touch. A subtle breath, a great pulse of the dragon's heart, anything.
A great many war cries took his attention away from Rhaegal and Jon could see a battalion of his men gathering and engaging those who were waiting to cross the flames when it died down enough. Given that there was nothing proper to fuel the flames, it wouldn't be long until that was possible.
Jon wasn't going to do anything while others fought. He put his glove back and gripped Wintersong tightly as he ran for the thinnest part of the firewall and leaped through the flames, his skin untouched and unburned.
He picked up one of the Unsullied's round shields that were no longer in use and led his men in a counter-attack. It was all so chaotic. There was no indication of which side was taking the advantage. Every time Jon made a kill, there were three more waiting for him and his men. The sounds of clashing steel and bashing shields were joined by feral growling. Ghost leaped past Jon and sank his teeth into the throat of a rather large man.
From behind, Ser Jorah and a group of Northmen and Dothraki were charging on horseback "To the King!" Ser Jorah yelled with his sword raised. The Dothraki were screaming their war cries as their swords swung down and cut every man in their path.
One of the elephants of the Golden Company was on its way to them all and was already swinging its great tusks at the Dothraki screamers. It sent horses into the air and wasn't slowing down. Jon could see Ser Jorah jump from his horse before it was struck by the elephant.
Jon raised his sword and shouted as loud as he could. "Bring down the beast!" He charged forward with Ghost at his side and his fighters behind him. He howled a warcry as the remaining mounted riders galloped past them all to fend off the elephant. They avoided it's path completely and circled around, but the archers on top were picking them off a few riders at a time.
Jon's force broke through a shield wall that was not fortified in time. There were so many different men in different armor, it was becoming hard to tell who was an ally and who was an enemy.
A great roar came from the elephant when a Dothraki screamer had leaped from his horse and stuck the pointy end of his arakh into one of the elephant's eyes. It pained the beast greatly and it collapsed. It was swarmed by men and killed by many and those that rose it were slaughtered.
Blood sprayed onto Jon's face from a freshly opened neck but he continued to fight. The screams of war and pain were becoming mulled in all the sound.
Harry
And now the battle was truly starting to turn in their favor. Watching the first dragon fall was pleasing, but watching the second with Jon Snow on it falling from the sky after three skewers was absolutely ecstatic. Now, the head of the Targaryen army was baring its neck to be cut off.
Harry took hold of his war-horn and gave three quick but loud blasts, signaling his men to change the focus of their attack. He then seized a horse from one of his men and joined in an all-out charge to the so-called king. The other sellswords companies knew of this maneuver and joined them while others foolishly continued to keep fighting where they could merely shed easy blood.
They had to detour around the fields covered with wildfire that continued to burn and roast all who were out of luck with fate to be touched by the stuff. Both allies and enemies burned and their scents filled the air. Despite the horrid smell, it was better than the shit of King's Landing.
Once there, Harry didn't hesitate to cut down any soldier that got in his path. He swung down his falchion left at right, taking off heads and arms with the sharp edge of his blade that could match Valyrian steel. He wanted Blackfyre back and he was going to get it.
There were a number of Northerners making a defensive stand on a small rise in the land. In order to get to Jon Snow, Harry was going to have to get through them, first.
"Lances! Take the van!" Harry shouted outed. All the cavalry who had spears or lances road ahead and formed two lines, leading the rest of the attack to cut through the Northern defense.
The Northern fools saw this and became intimated to the point of retreat. They turned tail and began to run back to the other side of the hill.
"No escape!" Harry ordered. "Kill every last one of them!" he spurred his horse to go faster as did a few others. They were the closest to the head of the charge now, behind the lines of lances and spears. When they would get on the other side of the hill, it would be over for the Northmen now that they had given up the high ground.
But when they all got over the hill, it wasn't just Northmen staring them down in much greater numbers and formation, but also a pair of golden eyes belonging to the blue dragon that should have been dead.
Harry pulled back on the reins of his horse as hard as he could. But he couldn't give an order of retreat, for the last thing he saw was the dragon's mouth open and a fury of fire burst forth, engulfing them all.
Jon
A ball of wildfire landed close by, almost too close. The green flames consumed both some of Jon's men and the sellswords. Jorah was pushed to the ground by the sheer force of the explosion. As he got back to his feet, Jon defended him from a man yelling out from atop a white and black striped horse while swinging a sword at them. Jon parried the blade and even managed to nick the man's neck enough that he fell from his mount after bleeding out.
Ghost lunged at the striped horse and killed it mercilessly. His fur all across his mane was stained with sprays of blood from all of his kills and his lips were even more so red.
Jorah roared out like a bear as the sellswords were attacking in greater numbers. Savage men with tattoos of cats came rushing at them all. Jon parried the blade of a sword with his gauntlet but had not even a second to kill the wielder. He jumped back when an ax came down. It missed his head but only barely.
Jon clashed steel with both men, tearing through a gorget of the ax wielder and cracking the sword of the other. He knocked the blade of the man's hand before Ghost pounced on him and finished the job.
Jon rushed to join Jorah. They were almost as separated as they were from their men and it was not good. Jorah took a mace to his helm and fell back, dazed and disoriented. But he didn't let that be the death of him. Like a drunkard, Jorah fumbled to dodged whatever came at him. He managed elbowed his attacker in the face before proceeding to stab his sword through him next.
After that, he tore off his helmet with great effort. Though he lived from the mace hit in his head, he was bleeding from above his temple, blinding his right eye. But this was no time to rest or find pain in injuries. There were still more coming for them and not enough of the Targaryen army was stopping them. It was only Ser Jorah and, Jon, and Ghost.
Wintersong's blade rang out as it cut through the air and snow to stop a scimitar from killing Jorah. Jon roared out as he fought with a man in golden armor while Jorah stood with him to defend against another. Jon took an opportunity when he locked blades to grab the scimitar by the end and slide his sword and slash his enemy's neck. He turned before the body hit the ground dead and was gladdened that Jorah defeated his attacker.
Jon and Jorah looked over to a pair of men marching through the battle with soldiers in armor decorated with a feral cat. They recognized both of the leaders. The tall one with the red beard was Bloodbeard and his personal guard, the Ferals. He carried a vicious looking double-sided war ax stained with much blood. The other captain dressed in rugged armor was Daario Naharis who was smirking greatly.
Bloodbeard advanced, shoving some of his own men aside and pointed to Jon. "Bring me his head! I'm gonna drink your direwolf's blood from your own armor!"
Jon saw two of the Ferals switch the grip on their spears to throw them, each aiming one at Jon or Jorah. In an instance, Jon rushed to stand in front of Jorah when the spears were thrown. The one aimed for him missed but the other meant for Jorah hit hard on Jon's Valyrian steel armor as he acted as a shield to protect his Kingsguard. The steel spearhead was bent and cracked while Jon's armor didn't even have a scratch.
"I want that armor!" Bloodbeard roared out.
Ghost barked out as he ran out on his own. "Ghost, no!" Jon called out but it was ignored. Even though he wasn't warging into his wolf, he could feel the raging Ghost felt from seeing his companion attacked. The white direwolf went to lunge at Bloodbeard and sank his teeth into a steel gauntlet, biting through the metal.
Jon rushed forward with Jorah to go fight with his wolf.
Bloodbeard growled as Ghost thrashed and with great strength, he was able to throw him off. Jon and Jorah were intercepted by two ax-wielding Ferals and fought as hard as they could to get past them. Two of Bloodbeard's guards circled around Ghost and thrust their spears at him. One pierced at Ghost hind leg and Ghost whimpered out before suddenly ravaging the Feral who attacked him. But while he did that, the other drove his spear into Ghost's neck.
Jon let out a cry when he felt a great pain in his heart. He was holding back the Feral he fought as he watched his greatest friend fall before him. The blood stained the white fur and the life in the red eyes had faded. Jon yelled out and headed-butted his opponent following it with dismembering the Feral's right arm and then shoving Wintersong deep into the bastard's chest.
"I'll do it myself!" Bloodbeard bellowed. He and his men ran forward with their weapons raised but he suddenly arched forward. His body went limp as he fell to the ground like a wet rag. When he landed, everyone saw a knife with a hilt of a naked woman stuck in the back of his head. All eyes turned to Daario who had just thrown it with a smirk. "Are you going to fight or just watch?" He was attacked by two of Bloodbeard's men and fought with his arakh while Jon and Jorah took care of the others.
When Daario killed one and shoved the other to the ground, he blew a horn he had at his side. The blast was higher pitched than any other horn and loud enough to be heard all around. Daario then killed the second man with ease.
"What did you just do!?" Jon yelled out as Wintersong shattered the blade of a scimitar and then took the head of the man who held his bladeless hilt with a dumbfounded look.
"The Second Sons fight for House Targaryen!"
Arya
Arya had no time to pull her dagger free from one of Cersei's zombified soldiers. The thing was dead, but another, the last of them besides the Mountain nearly took her arm off. She parried his sword away but was butted in the head by his elbow. She fell back on the floor, her head banging with pain. Despite that, she still felt the sting of the cut on her sword arm she got from one of the Queensguard.
Brienne stepped in time and used Oathkeeper to take the beast's head off. Only three of the Queensgaurd remained. Knights that no one would remember or care to. She was showing more resilience to the wounds she received better than anyone. One of the zombified men broke her leg and she had multiple gashes on her sword arm. But she was at the end of her rope. She fell to her knees and leaned on her sword for support. All of them were covered in sweat and blood.
Arya stepped in front of Brienne to defend her. She killed the shortest one quickly by deflecting his sword and sticking him in his head with the pointy end of Needle. The Valyrian steel came out cleanly as she helped Ser Jaime fight the man he was losing against.
All the while, Sandor stood across from his brother, face stained with the blood of four men and Heartsbane just as dirty.
The Mountain hadn't done anything at all. It was like he was waiting for Sandor to be all his as well.
"Come on you fucker," Sandor raised Heartsbane up and the Mountain did the same with his sword.
They charged at each other, Sandor bellowing out a great war cry while the Mountain remained silent as the grave. Their swords rang like sept bells and echoed throughout the throne room. Sandor was pushed back by the Mountain's strength. He stood his ground though. He snarled and growled like hounds of his family's sigil with each swing of his sword.
Jaime was the only one who had not a single worry of being killed. There was hardly a scratch on his since Cersei ordered him to be taken alive. No doubt Cersei wanted to have him back by her side, or rather, inside her.
He took a fist to the temple trying to defend Brienne, but his pain gave her the opening to lunge, although it was rather a limp, forward with Oathkeeper and kill another of the Queensguard.
Arya bobbed and weaved like a flowing river as she dodged every thrust and swing of the sword that missed her every time. She finally caught the blade with Needle and returned with a riposte, driving the pointy end into the knight's thigh between the gaps in his armor. He fell to one knee before falling to the ground after Needle cut across his throat in a quick strike.
Sandor roared out as he swung Heartsbane to meet the Mountain's sword. His strength had to be the greatest in the world at that moment, for when the edges met, Heartsbane cut through the steel and at the same time tore the blade out of the Mountain's hand. He followed it by thrusting Heartsbane in the Mountain's chest, plunging it deep.
But that didn't end it, it didn't even look like it was noticed. The Mountain wrapped his hands around Sandor's neck and began to squeeze tightly. Sandor began gagging and struggled to break free of his brother's grip.
Jaime used this chance to save him and swung Widow's Wail down at the Mountain, cutting off his right arm and freeing Sandor who pulled Heartsbane free and in one giant slash, decapitated the Mountain. The head fell hard like a boulder and cracked the stone floor where it landed.
Sandor coughed and heaved for air as Arya killed the last of Cersei's men. This was not like any fight she ever been int. She was exhausted, more so than when she fought against the dead. She had to catch her breath, was both tired and starving, but it was almost over.
She had to rush over to Brienne who was moaning in pain as she collapsed. Her last attack damaged her broken leg more than it already was. Arya did her best to get Brienne into a comfortable position as Jaime rushed over to help them.
"Easy, easy," Jaime said as he helped pull Brienne to sit up against one of the pillars. "How bad does it hurt?"
Brienne groaned before answering. "Worse than the fucking bear. I suppose this is the end for me."
"Don't say that!" Jaime hissed at her. "If you can survive a bear and the army of the dead, you can damn well survive this."
Brienne cracked a smile at him. "I meant the end of the journey. I won't make it up the stairs like this. You go on. You have to end this."
"We're not leaving you here alone." Arya insisted.
"Don't worry about me. There may be more ahead. I'll just get in the way. Now go! You're wasting time."
Arya looked at Jaime, seeing that he didn't want to leave either. But Brienne was right, they were wasting time and they needed to end this before it was too late.
"I'm coming back for you," Jaime told her, "I promise."
Brienne looked at him strangely. "Just go already, golden child."
Jaime nodded with a smirk and together with Arya and Sandor, they left the throne room and raced after Cersei. They climbed the steps leading to the Queen's room, meeting no opposition to stop them.
When they reached the hallway, they saw Cersei's hand, that man called Qyburn, exiting the door of the Queen's chambers. He became wide-eyed when he saw Arya drawing her Valyrian dagger. He didn't have time to run because of Arya's speed and throw too fast. The dagger sang through the air before piercing the side of Qyburn's neck.
"That wasn't necessary," Jaime said as the body fell limply and stained the floor in blood.
"I don't care," Arya said without a trace of regret or remorse in her voice. She led the way until finally, they were standing outside the door of the room. Arya pushed it open and had Needle at the ready in case there were any last guards.
Surprisingly, there were none. The only guards were those in the throne room. Arya slowly stepped inside, scanning for any form of trap or trick. But there were none. They all crossed over the map of Westeros painted over the floor and into the bedroom. There, they saw Cersei sitting quietly by the windowsill, smirking as she looked to the outside and drinking wine from a crystal chalice. On the windowsill by itself was a single candle with a green flame burning. A breeze would come and go but it was not enough to extinguish the flame.
Cersei set her chalice down and turned to look at them. "Everything I did was for our children Jaime. Every sacrifice I made, everybody lying dead at my order, every war waged has been for our children. But here you are, fighting for the ones that took them away from us."
Jaime spoke calmly but harshly. "Everything you did was for you. You couldn't let go of your crown to the Tyrells and you can't do it now. Your reign is over."
She smirked at her brother. "So this is how it ends? With my brother's blade against my skin. You're going to kill the woman who loves you like none in existence ever could hope to match."
Jaime shook his head. "Obsession isn't love, it's madness. But I won't kill you. I can't." All eyes turned to Jaime, surprised at his words. He looked at Arya with a gaze that spoke to her and offered the handle of Widow's Wail to her. Jaime's eyes met Arya's and something unspoken passed between them. That was when she understood what he was asking of her and ordering her to do.
Arya sheathed Needle and took the sword made from her father's. She never once held Ice or touched it, but in her hands, she felt a familiarity of its presence.
Sandor walked to Cersei and seized her. She began to fight back, trying to get free of his grip on her arm. "Let go of me, dog! I will not be killed by Ned Stark's little wolf bitch! I am a Lion of the Rock! I am the Queen!"
Sandor forced Cersei to her knees as Jaime turned and walked to leave the room. Before exiting the door, he pulled off his golden hand and threw it aside, leaving it behind. Arya had no complaints or objection that he should stay. On the contrary, a small part of her felt sympathy for him. But she put that thought aside as she gripped Widow's Wail tightly in both hands and locked eyes with Cersei. "Don't worry. I've decided to show you mercy. The same mercy your mad bastard gave my father."
Cersei struggled as Arya lifted the Valyrian sword and aligned it with Cersei's neck. With one swing, she yelled out and ended the reign of Cersei Lannister, the Mad Queen of Westeros.
Jon
Another ball of wildfire came from above and exploded nearby. This one was not close enough that anyone had to worry. What Jon had to worry about were the several men he had to fend off with Jorah. They were distanced apart but each of them was holding their own against the odds. Daario had his own problems to solve. He was up against a man almost as big as the Hound.
But as they fought, the bombardments had suddenly ceased. Aside from the Giants firing arrows at the scorpions on the walls and rooftops of the city, the wildfire and scorpion bolts had ceased.
Overhead, a great flock of ravens flew, squawking out into the air. It was Bran's flock, their plan to rile the citizens worked. Now the people of King's Landing knew what it was they were really eating and weren't standing back quietly. The riots of King's Landing were doing just what they needed.
Jon parried an ax swing and came from behind the wielder. He wrapped an arm around the man's head and with a strong pull broke the man's neck. Jorah sent the last of them to the ground and stabbed his sword deep into him. Cersei's army was still relentless and not giving up. The kept doing everything they could to push through and fight hard. Jon and Jorah took what moments they could to catch their breaths.
A great roar suddenly erupted throughout the battlefield. It came from the northeast. Jon looked up and saw the shadow of the greatest dragon alive diving down to the battlefield and ignited the fields in great flames. Daenerys had come to join the fight instead of staying at Winterfell. It gladdened Jon to see her here. While he wished she stayed with their children, he felt she deserved, no, needed to fight with everyone. The ground shook when Drogon's flaming impacted and burned all the unlucky souls who were in his path.
"I didn't think she'd be here," Daario said as he retrieved his dagger from Bloodbeard's head, "I'll have to be quick then." Without any given indication or warning, Jon felt himself get shoved to the side by Jorah as Daario's dagger cut at him. He felt the blade embed itself in his arm between the gaps of his armor. He cried out as he grasped his wound and looked over to Daario who was twirling his arakh in his hand.
"When you're dead, nothing will be between me and my Queen." He spoke loudly above the sounds of battle. "And with so much death, no one will know who actually killed you."
Jorah pushed himself in front of Jon and protected him. "It won't happen as long as I'm alive." The bear knight said adamantly with his sword pointed at Daario.
The treacherous Sellsword smirked at him and shook his head. "Why protect him? If he's dead, there's no doubt our Queen will finally look to you for love. Isn't that everything you've ever wanted?"
"More than anything in the world," Jorah replied but he didn't take his eyes off Dario.
"And yet here you stand in my way."
"Aye, here I stand."
Daario shook his head as he chuckled. "Come on old man, don't make me be a piece of shit now."
"You never weren't one." Jorah countered.
Jon pulled the knife out and threw it aside as he raised Wintersong to join Jorah. His left arm tensed at the pain and weakened his strength, but his right arm was perfectly fine.
Daario broke into a quick charge at both of them and moved quickly. Jorah fought as Jon's vanguard while Jon moved to take Daario off guard. Daario proved to be much faster than he let on as he slashed his arakh at Jon after easily parrying Jorah away from him. Jon noticed that he was hardly exhausted and wasn't covered in other men's blood like he was. While they fought Bloodbeard's men and every other damned sellsword, Daario probably did hardly a thing. He's been waiting for this, planning it.
Jorah landed a punch square onto Daario's face and it knocked him on his ass. Daario scrambled to his feet and took a dagger from the sword belt of a fallen Northman. He dual wielded both weapons as both Jon and Jorah attacked him at once. Daario held his own though. His fighting wasn't like anything Jon faced before. The closest to it was like how Karl Tanner fought with his knives, quick and devilish.
Daario pushed both of them back and grinned pompously at both of them. "Is this all you have to offer, bastard? I thought you were the greatest swordsman alive."
Jon wasn't one to get riled by such taunts. But he did feel upset at himself. He fought and beat the bloody Night King. Why was this proving to be just as difficult? He joined Jorah in a two on one attack. It was interrupted when a wave of sellswords rushed them all and the Targaryen forces did the same to meet them. Jon was pushed and shoved. He became separated from Jorah and Daario, cut off by a river of soldiers.
He was now faced with Cersei's army, injured and away from the fight he needed to finish. He fought tooth and nail to get through anyone who got his way. He couldn't let his Kingsguard fight alone, fight someone bent on killing him.
Yet Jorah was fighting Daario alone. He had skill but Daario had more energy in him. Jon did everything he could to push through when he saw Jorah disarmed of his sword and had nothing to defend himself from Daario's arakh. Anxiety filled him as he could only watch his Kingsguard in battle. He couldn't let others fight to protect him and not be willing to protect them back.
Instead of running, Jorah let the blade strike his armor and then trapped it with his arm. The sickle like curve wrapped around Jorah's breastplate and clung to it like a fishhook. Daario tried to pull free but failed and Jorah began to beat him using his bare hands as his weapons. Daario's pretty face was turning red from blood.
But Daario parried Jorah's punch with his free hand and held his dagger-like was a claw protruding from his knuckles. With a single jab, he pierced the blade through a weak point in Jorah's armor and stuck it deep.
Jorah became frozen as the dagger dug deeper. He kept standing even when Daario freed his arakh from Jorah's grip and pushed him to the side. Only then did he fall to his knee.
Jon's let out a great howl of fury and finally pushed free of the fighting around him. He could feel a resonance coming from his sword. With every swing, Wintersong's blade would sing as it cut through the air and clashed with the blackened steel of Daario's arakh. The soldiers around them dared not get close, either for fear of getting killed or determination to let no one interferes.
Daario moved so well that it almost tore Wintersong out of Jon's hands. But the weapon was arakh, only two thirds the length of Jon's sword.
Jon back away and kept Daario at a distance that he could be reached. But Daario was clever and skilled. He swooped low like a bird grabbing its prey and almost cutting into Jon's knee but was blocked by Wintersong. That was just so he could trap the sword itself. He head-butted Jon and tripped him onto his back.
Jon yelled out and let his anger spark his will to fight. He was putting Daario on the defensive. Despite his attempts to look confident and smug, Daario was beginning to crack and become nervous.
Jon kicked Daario hard in the chest, sending him back a few steps before he raised Wintersong and brought it down with all his strength. Daario was able to put his arakh in Wintersong's path, but the Valyrian steel cut through it with ease and continued to go through the flesh that was in its path. Daario's arm was cut cleanly off and he began screaming out and grabbed at the blood spilling wound. He fell to his knees while Jon tightened his grip on Wintersong but it loosened when he saw Daenerys coming their way.
The ground shook heavily and a gust of wind rushed by as Drogon landed in their field of battle. Soldiers moved away from his path and many of them cheered out. The great black dragon eyed Daario as Daenerys peeked her head into view and saw the state of her former lover.
She looked at Jon, saw the look her husband gave to Jorah and that was all she needed to see. Her face changed instantaneously from battle-hardened to heartbroken.
"Daenerys," Daario cried out in a plea.
Jon locked eyes with his wife and they both knew what he deserved.
Daenerys showed not a single amount of affection in her eyes. She only muttered a single word when she looked back at her former lover. "Dracarys!"
"No-" Daario's screams became muffled by the roaring flames that consumed him. Given the force of Drogon's fire, it was mere seconds before the lonely sellsword was turned into ash.
Daenerys climbed down from Drogon and ran with Jon over to Jorah. He was gasping for air as they both fell to their knees at him. Daenerys was stricken with grief and tears as she held the bear knight in her arms.
"No, no no no!" She wept. Jon could only watch and be with her as she did. "Please, you can't die!"
"Khaleesi…" Jorah rasped out. "Khaleesi…" He reached his hand up but it fell before Daenerys could take hold of it. "Khalee…" He took one final breath and slowly his life left him.
Daenerys cried as she held Jorah close to her. Jon felt a guilt befall him he did not expect. He failed to protect his Lord Commander Jeor from mutineers and he couldn't protect Jorah either. Jon put his arms around his wife and held her as she held her dearest friend and wept for him. He looked all around and could see that the sellsword armies were now in full retreat. They were breaking for the shores north of the battle.
What he didn't expect was to see balls of fire rain down on them. They came from the fleet of Greyjoy ships sailing in. Rowboats with hundreds of Ironborn were coming ashore to cut off any escape as the Dothraki came from behind.
"It's over, Dany. It's over."
But Jon quickly realized he was dead wrong when a sudden rumble shook the ground and a loud boom coming from the city echoed to the battlefield.
Arya
Widow's Wail fulfilled its purpose for Arya so she no longer had need of it. She walked out of the room, finding Jaime just outside in the hall. Silently, she returned the Valyrian steel to Lannister and together with Sandor they made their way back the throne room. They were all exhausted and finally able to rest.
At long last, the wars for the Iron Throne were over. All who died for it have been avenged from the stupidity and evil of one woman who was beyond addicted to power. All who suffered would hopefully find peace as would the realm. By tomorrow, the world would finally change for the better.
When they got to the Throne room, Jaime ran over to assist Brienne who shared a look of sympathy with him. Arya stood next to the Iron Throne just to look at the damn thing. All the death, her family, her friends, everyone, it was just for a chair of swords. A hideous thing that so many have killed and lied to obtain. She couldn't see Jon or Daenerys sitting on it to rule. It just didn't feel right.
Arya left the chair to join the others. But the sudden and instant shake of the ground halted her steps. A low rumble turned into a roar of an explosion. The light outside the windows turned green and the entire throne room shook tremendously.
Looking through one of the windows, Arya saw the base of the Tower of the Hand explode in the green flames of wildfire, destroying the bottom. The rest of it began to crumble down, falling directly over the Throne Room.
"Run!" Arya shouted as she ran as fast as her feet could carry her. But it would be in vain. The roof collapsed when the tower hit it and the entire room shook and crumbled. Arya was thrown off balance and tripped on one of the dead bodies. The falling pieces of the roof missed her, but the collapsing pillar falling after her wouldn't.
"Arya!"
The last thing Arya felt before everything went dark was being shoved forward when she got to her feet. The pillar boomed as it fell and dust overtook the entire room.
Arya coughed as her lungs began to search for clean air and her eyes stung from the dust. It was thicker than any fog. The throne room continued to break apart and collapse as Maegor's Holdfast began to erupt as well. She crawled as quick as she could through the debris, blinded by dust and not having a single idea where to go.
But after the Holdfast was destroyed and burning, there was no more. The rumbling stopped as did the explosions.
Cold winds began to blow the dust out and give clear air and vision of the Throne Room. The way they had come from killing Cersei, the roof, it was all gone. The Iron Throne was bent and destroyed from the great amount of stone that fell on it.
Arya began to slow her breathing and tried to calm down from her panic.
"Arya!" Brienne called out. "Arya!"
"I'm here!" She replied, hoping to all the gods that everyone was alright.
Moments later, a shade of a figure in the remaining thickness of dust transformed into Ser Jaime. "Arya! Are you hurt?"
She shook her head at him. "No, I'm fine." Jaime wrapped his arm around Arya and pulled her to her feet. "Is Brienne hurt?"
"No more than she already was." Jaime looked around her. "Where's Clegane?"
Arya caught her breath when she realized who it was who pushed her out of the way of the pillar meant to kill her. She looked back where she came from and could see a limp hand covered in dust and blood sticking out from beneath a pile of rubble.
She rushed over to where it was, Ser Jaime joining her immediately, and they both began to clear off what they could. The stone rubble wasn't large, yet it felt so heavy.
It didn't take much time when they found the body underneath. Sandor's face was covered in blood and his upper body was the only thing not crushed by the pillar. His eyes were closed by themselves which was a mercy in some sense. He was gone. He gave his life to save hers.
There was a part of Arya that wanted to feel a sense of justice for the murder of Micah, but it felt outweighed by losing another person who cared for her. For the first time in years, she felt the sting of tears on her cheeks.
Now THAT is how it's done!
By the next update, I will also have the next set of revisions up and there will be some new scenes as well that I foolishly did not write when I started.
Leave a comment and SHOW ME THE MONEY!
