Calla
I can't stay like this. I have to do something for those people I killed. Something. Anything.
Despite her thoughts, Calla's legs would not move. Aegor loved her, some part of her protested, he would cry for her. She could not die now.
But he was also not the man she thought him to be. He was not… perfect.
Do you realise what you're asking for? Nobody is perfect, she berated herself. You finally got what you've always wanted, ever since childhood.
She shook her head desperately. She was just twisting his words to her benefit. Aegor did not mean that he loved her the way he would love a woman, he… never saw her as anything but a child. Even if she was nearly thirty, he would always see her as a child. Because of who she was. Because of her body. Because this was the price she paid to wield Crystal— the price she paid to kill.
A thousand emotions and thoughts flooded her. Loathing towards herself. The disappointment to Aegor's cold reasoning. The Goddess' warning blazing in her mind. Her love for him, his feelings for her…
She could not control it, even when they were pulling her apart. As her thoughts were screaming to be heard, she clutched her ears tightly, her palms sending a crushing force to her head. Think about it. What matters more to you?
To be Crystal's wielder, a knight of justice? A daughter that Daemon Blackfyre would be proud of? The person that she always reminded herself to be, even when in a war?
The King Who Bore the Sword would try to have his most deadly enemy surrender instead of being killed, always giving his opponent a fair chance to fight. Mother, Aegor, old knights in the Golden Company, everyone told Calla and her siblings the same tale. Since she had taken up the sword, she had asked herself to do the same. She thought that was what Aegor wanted of her…
But did he always want her to be different? Wanted her to not repeat her father's mistake?
Those values she held… for whose sake did she hold them?
...No, she shook her head, she did not hold them purely to please Aegor. She wanted to be like her father because she believed his way was the right way, from the bottom of her heart. To them the Blackfyres, who had been defeated and exiled, the only way to live was to believe in the legacy of Daemon Blackfyre. That he was the rightful king, that he was good and just and merciful.
Living and breathing the righteousness of her cause, Calla had struggled until today. Aegor… had taught them to work for the ultimate goal before thinking about themselves. She had thought the goal was to keep a Blackfyre on the Iron Throne before, to succeed where Father failed, but now she realised that was not it.
It was to maintain the ideals Daemon Blackfyre once held. To live righteously even if it led to her own death. What was her life compared to thousands?
Her heart ached, yet she knew it was the right way. Aegor would understand. Had he not loved Father even years after he died? If she could leave herself in his heart that way, perhaps he would realise what she thought of him…
Now, that is purely selfish, isn't it?
A twisted smile appeared on Calla's lips. Allow a woman soon to be dead to keep some selfish motivation in her heart.
And therefore…
"Calla," Daena appeared before the doorframe, "You really are awake! How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, I think. The Grand Maester had checked me and he said that I'm functionally healthy, if a bit malnourished. I feel a lot better after eating," Calla answered, forcing a smile on her face. She wondered why Daena was the only one here. "Is Aenys busy with his kingly duties?"
Daena's expression darkened. "I have no idea what he's doing right now."
Calla frowned. Daena and Aenys normally had a good relationship. Calla had rarely seen them talk in the last few months, but she thought it was because Aenys had put all his time into his work to forget about the death of his son… Did something happen between them?
Seeing Calla's expression, Daena smiled wryly. "I had thought of hiding this from you. But that would only cause more pain when you found out. I just… don't like what they are doing. Aenys shouldn't be like that. We should be better than this."
Dread rose in Calla, yet she still demanded, "Tell me what I missed." Before she went to repent, she needed to know what was happening to her family… to those she loved.
Daena gritted her teeth. "I don't know whether it was the reason, but I only noticed it after Daemon died."
And so Daena told her everything. About how he hurt Rohanne, about Selyse's bruises, about Aenys' reaction when Daena confronted him and Aegor turning her away…
The initial disgust Calla had when she first heard the tale left quickly. She had no right to judge Aenys when what she had done was far worse. What she had in her heart was endless sorrow. Aenys was— had been a sweet boy. What pushed him to the edge?
What pushed YOU to the edge?
Calla paused. She killed those people… because she thought it was the only way. And she wanted to die for her sins now because of this very same reason.
But what if she was wrong? What if there was someone who could point her to a better solution?
"I'm angry with Aenys, but what hurts most is that he won't talk to me about it. Am I not his sister? We're the last of Blackfyres. We should be supporting each other," Daena mumbled regretfully, "If I had paid more attention to him after I discovered Rohanne's wound, I might find out how far down he was on the road earlier. Then I might be able to do something."
"Could you? We don't know what he's facing. It could be that we were..." Calla shivered, "We were too far away from his problems to help him." Just like that day, when she was in the streets, alone. That day, Aegor tried to reach her, but he could not, not when her heart was filled with despair.
"Not every problem has a perfect solution. But it will be so much better if we can face it together. Calla… you, Haegon and Aenys were on my side during that year when I lost my voice and my will. Without your support, I'd never manage to recover within only one year. So if there's anything I could do for you two, I'll do it." Daena's eyes were determined and bright, like two fires in the darkest night.
That was right. Even if Calla had Crystal, Daena was always the stronger one between them. She could bounce back from the worst situation and keep her heart whole.
"Do you want to know what happened that day?" Calla asked abruptly, "What caused me to kill? I— no, Daena, I need your help. I don't know what to do. I want to hear your opinion."
But Daena smiled with relief. "I was waiting for you to ask. I want to know that… you're still the same Calla. You must have a reason."
"A reason, huh…" Calla only loathed herself more when she thought about her reasons. But she told Daena regardless, everything that happened that day, then her conversation with Aegor after she woke up, with pain in her heart. "...I must repent. And blood debts… can only be paid with blood," she finished, glancing at Daena.
Daena's face was twisted, tears dripping down her face. Clenching her fists, she hissed, "No, Calla, it isn't like that. No matter how great your sin is, you shouldn't be fighting to die. This isn't right. I won't let you do that."
Calla bit her lips. Did Daena still not understand? "But I have to repent! I did something wrong, and therefore I have to pay for it. My life is the only thing that will be enough. This is what we were taught. So… I don't understand… why Aegor would…" She lowered her head, her fingers painfully gripping her blankets.
Daena frowned, her gaze dropped as she considered her words carefully. "What Uncle Aegor said was the truth, I think. There are morals, but there's also what he wants to protect. He has worked all his life to put a Blackfyre on the Iron Throne, and he can't let the situation get worse than it already is."
"And this is what you think too?" Calla demanded, "You don't agree with that, do you?"
"I agree that we can't let the situation in the city get worse," Daena answered, crossing her arms in thought, "but I can't agree with doing nothing either. You're right that we need to come out and acknowledge what we did was wrong. But you shouldn't give yourself up, either."
"You spoke of the situation in the city. Do you know how much damage I've done? I have killed… thousands…" Or more, Calla could not tell. All she did was kill and kill until no one was left, until only corpses surrounded her.
"I know that countless people have died. I know that King's Landing has been thrown into unrest and people are revolting against Aenys' rule. I know that the Gold Cloaks and your Crystal Guards are out there trying to suppress all remaining opposition in the city," Daena pursued her lips, "but not even giving your life to the chopping block would quell all anger. It's right to take responsibility, but… don't do this."
"But this is the right way," In Calla's mind she saw a man, holding Crystal. It was the Hero in her dream, the Sky-asker. That image overlapped with the vague image of a man holding Blackfyre… her father. "This… this is what our father would do." To give his life to do right...
"No, he wouldn't do that," Daena said certainly, "He wouldn't give up so easily. Father died… trying to save Aegon's life. He didn't give up even when our eldest brother was ridden with arrows, trying to bring him back. Calla… I think…"
She caught Calla's hand, her eyes blazing with confidence, her smile reassuring. "When you make a mistake, you don't punish yourself for it. You repent and do your best to seek forgiveness, and if that includes punishment, then so be it. But it's only a means to an end. What you should do now… is to find a way to remedy your mistakes."
Calla widened her eyes. For a moment she almost believed her words… even if there was no proof to it. "How, Daena? This isn't a simple mistake. Those are lives, thousands of lives I killed. The city is calling for my blood. So it's my blood that I shall give them."
"Well, let's talk about Father again. He had made a mistake, he thought he could dethrone Daeron Falseborn peacefully. He was wrong, and countless men died on the field of war as a result. This isn't any lesser than your sin, Calla."
Calla grimaced. "This is… a war is different. Those men Father killed were fighting for the wrong side. And Father still tried to kill as few as possible."
"This is the point. He tried to have as few deaths as possible! I know you tried to kill as few as possible in the war too. Why is this time any different? You should still try to find a method that will save as many lives as you can. Including your own. Father… was faced with a hard situation much like yours," Daena squeezed Calla's hands, her strong belief transferring to Calla through her tight grip, "But he never gave up, not his morals, nor his goals, until the very end of his life! Do you think Father was some perfect king? He never managed to repair the damage he caused, and we can blame him for the tragedies in our lives. But he is still our role model because he kept fighting on until the very end."
"But if the only solution is my death—"
"This won't be the only solution! That can't be the only solution! There must be another way!" Daena shouted, agitated. As Calla stared at her, she lowered her voice and whispered with an embarrassed smile, "I… I had thought that Aerion and I would never work out, but then… he really did change somewhat. So I'm sure we can find another solution here too, even if we have to take the risk of death. Father never stopped believing. Haegon never stopped believing. So we must keep believing, and fight to live with no fear towards death."
Calla… thought of the Goddess and her words.
You must repent… and leave the path of destruction…
Was seeking death… also on the path of destruction? She wanted Calla to repent. But she never told her how. So there could be… another way.
Suddenly, all the twisted thoughts, all the dark despair clouding her heart— they melted in the ray of sunlight that Daena was.
Calla still did not know where the solution could be found, nor what it was. How could she repent without losing her life. But she found the next step. "I… no, we'll talk to Aenys and Aegor again." She found the strength to smile back at Daena. "My sins, Aenys' problem, we will talk them all out. We'll figure it out together."
—
Her legs were weak, Calla could not help but feel that when she walked towards Aenys' solar. They were heavy, the impact of each step sending prickles up to her spine, making her shiver. Calla had changed into a black dress, the one she had worn at Daemon's funeral. Black for a Blackfyre, black for a sinner. It was not a sin that she could erase, but she would fight until the bitter end.
On her way she had seen many people, servants and guards alike, and she could see them avoiding her eyes, fear and disgust marked in their faces. The news…that The Butcher of Flea Bottom had awakened… would soon be all over the city. Within a week, there might be angry smallfolk wielding pitchforks demanding her life outside the Red Keep.
That just meant she had to solve this today.
She had feared that Aenys would refuse to let her in, based on Daena's description, and she had decided to force her way in if it was necessary. But the guards had opened the door for her quickly.
"Calla," Aegor's face was full of worry as their eyes met, "You shouldn't be walking around just yet."
Calla's heart ached. "...The more I exercise, the faster I recover." She did not know what Aegor talked with Aenys about when alone, but she could see Aenys sitting behind his table, glancing at them with cold, guarded eyes. One side of his cheeks was swollen, but he did not seem to mind.
Daena frowned as she looked around the room, "Where is Selyse?"
Aenys' lips twitched, "I had her retire to her room. She has suffered enough. Did you come back to reprimand me some more? Please spare my face this time. I have to meet my subjects later."
"I talked with Calla." Daena glared at him.
"I can see that." Aenys barely acknowledged Daena's anger as he turned to Calla. "Calla, it's great to see you awake. I hope you aren't feeling too awful. It has been a long month," he sighed.
"It has been a long dream for me too. I… I heard from Daena. Now that only family is left, would you tell us what happened to you?" Calla leaned against Aenys' desk, bending forward to look at her brother, trying to get how he actually felt. But Aenys only frowned, looking annoyed.
"It doesn't matter what happened. I won't let it happen again, as I have said many times. And my problems can't be the only thing you want to discuss with me." As his words got stronger, Aenys pushed back his chair and stood up, standing face to face with Calla, "I heard from Uncle Aegor. I won't give you a trial. If you think you did wrong that day, then you should listen to me— to us and stay put. It's the best thing you can do for all of us."
"You're telling me to do nothing? To stay at the sidelines as the city burns?" Calla clenched her fists. Aenys was more… aggressive, or rather, determined than she had imagined.
"We're telling you to rest and let us handle the work," Aegor interrupted. As Calla turned to him, he stepped forward and took her hand, "And you really shouldn't be walking around the halls. I can see that you're shaking. Go back, Calla."
Calla bit her lips. When she stared into his eyes she thought of giving up, but she managed to ground herself as he attempted to move her at the last moment. No. She could not yield to him. "Aegor. Daena said you chased her away. Did you talk with Aenys about...?"
"He didn't tell me his reason. But he has shown me his will to change for the better, and I trust that he won't hurt another woman or child again. Everything is settled, so just… listen to me," When he saw that she was not moving, not for an inch, he tightened his grip on her wrist, "I'm saying this for— not just for your own good, but for everyone. You need to go back to your room and rest."
Mindful of his strength, Aegor did not hurt her. But he had added another crack in her heart. Gritting her teeth, Calla said, "No. Not until I have atoned. Aenys, Aegor, the city is crying for my blood, for justice. We can't just let that go unanswered. We need to give them justice. I don't want to die, but I need to beg for the city's forgiveness. There must be something we can do."
"Forgiveness— that's showing our weakness in front of the whole world! To show that we are so weak, that we must beg for forgiveness… we will become the laughing stock from the Wall to the Arbor. This is ridiculous. No way I'll allow you to do that." Eyes widened, Aenys shouted at Calla and Daena, "Am I the only Blackfyre that knows what being a royalty means? Once you have a crown on your head, you must consider your rule before anything else. We are having trouble controlling King's Landing as it is currently. We don't need you pouring more oil on the fire you started in the first place!"
Calla gasped. Those sharp words pierced her, making her breathing difficult. Aenys… was her little brother. He was not… was not like that…
But he was not finished. "I thought you had more sense, Calla. You're always the most responsible out of all of us. My reliable big sister. You should be able to understand why this is impossible." Aenys' eyes hardened as he turned to Daena. "Don't tell me you planted this idea into her. Even if you're unhappy with me, you shouldn't manipulate Calla of all people."
Daena hissed, flames blazed in her eyes, "Yes, I'm unhappy with you. What makes you think you can extinguish the fire by killing more people? The city fears Calla, that's true, but you didn't help matters by sending the Gold Cloaks out to kill all who are angry. I've heard all the rumours. Only a tyrant will try to solve everything by killing. We need to reconcile with the people of King's Landing, otherwise we will lose the city! You are the one who has lost your senses."
"Me? Lost my senses?" Aenys let out a dark laugh, "Don't talk like I haven't tried to think of a solution. I worked myself to the bone to improve King's Landing so the city would actually be liveable, not the shithole it has been since the bloody Conquest! And how did it turn out?" He clenched his fists, "No one was grateful for a bit, everyone hates me for something I can't control. How could I know that there won't be enough houses to support the demand? How could I possibly guess that there would be a situation in which Calla was forced to kill? This… this isn't how it is supposed to be. But this city has turned into my enemy. I have no choice!"
I… have no choice.
But if the only solution is my death—
...Aenys was forced to the corner just like her. And how long… had he stayed there? A day? A month? Or…
"I really had thought it would all be worth it in the end. That I could have done something I couldn't accomplish if I'm not king. But everything fell into ruins. It might be because—" Aenys waved his arm impatiently, leaving his sentence half-finished, "but I can't just let House Blackfyre lose all its face here! If I'm going to let you do that, I may as well just… just…" A strange smile pasted on his face, he stared at them, his eyes held a morbid gleam. His lips moved, yet no further words were out of his mouth.
"I promised to make you a great king," Aegor said urgently, "This isn't over yet. More shelters have been built since that day, and we have successfully settled many homeless people. The unrest in the city will quell with time, as long as no further incident happens. The smallfolk hate us, that much is true, but they are no actual threat with the nobility still in our hands. Don't give up here!" When he turned to Daena, his eyes were harsh. "Daena. We asked you to stay with Calla. Instead, you took her here. You think that you're just doing the right thing— but you failed to consider how your brother is doing. Sometimes the right solution isn't the best one, but the one we can actually achieve."
"I came here because I'm worried about Aenys," Daena said, frowning deeply, "And it turns out that his situation is worse than what I imagined. If our words can't reach him, then couldn't you, Uncle, advise him as his Hand? You kept giving in to his pleas, just because he's a king now— but you wouldn't do that five years ago. You'd fix us, whether it's with a fist or with words. So why can't you do that now? Letting him be a tyrant is the same as leaving him to rot. Aenys is my brother, I—"
"Shut up," Aenys cried, "Just shut up. One more word, and I'm executing your dear husband!"
For a moment, Daena widened her eyes, completely flabbergasted. Red, deep, angry red filled her face, but she did not utter a word. The room was left with Aenys' heavy panting, a twisted smile of victory rising to his lips.
Calla… could speak, however. "You… you're threatening her… with Aerion's life?" The disgust rose to her throat… she did not think that was possible. Her brother…
"So what if I am? He is a Targaryen and a monstrous man. He should have died a long time ago. I will be— no, Daena will be doing the world a favour if she dares speak again." Aenys seemed to be glad of his flawless reasoning as he chuckled.
Calla went wordless. How could he… how could she…
In a desperate search for help, her eyes naturally turned towards Aegor. "Aegor… tell me you don't agree with this. Tell Aenys… this is wrong… that…"
Aegor met her eyes— but in there Calla could only see cold steel. Frowning deeply, he ordered, "Calla, Daena, get out. I told you at the start that you shouldn't be here. Go to rest as I said."
"But…" Calla felt she was pinned to the ground. "Please…"
"Just— go!" With a desperate grunt, he grabbed the two women's arms and, with his full strength, pulled them out of the solar.
"Wait, Aegor…!" Calla called, but Aegor closed the door immediately, leaving her staring at the door uselessly. Why did he… have to act so heartless?
Calla's heart was bleeding. She still loved him, still loved how he had reserved more tenderness for her than anyone else, still loved how they had the same tint of purple in their eyes, still loved those arms that had cradled her sorrows. Even if he acted heartless, even if he cared about his goals more than doing the right thing, even if he was not as perfect as she thought—
If only he had had a tiny bit of gentleness in his eyes. If only he had said one word.
One look, one word, and she could not resent him anymore. Calla would love to think this was fate, as much as she was chosen by Crystal. But perhaps it was all wrong. Perhaps it was just a series of mistakes, twisted together into something beautiful.
Because he did not do anything but throw her out. If he cared, wouldn't he look back? Wouldn't he show it to her, just like he said he would cry for her?
What could she do now? Did she lose all hope and despair?
Calla looked at her side. Daena was there, still looking shocked and furious beyond imagination. "...Aerion. I sent him back to our room. I need to go check on him. I can't let Aenys…" she winced, "Aenys… can't kill him."
No… not all was lost yet. Daena was still here. And she had taught Calla… the right thing to do.
"...There must be another solution," Calla whispered. Then, louder, "We must never give up, Daena."
"What?" Daena stared at her for a second. And slowly but certainly, a spark returned to her eyes. "Of course! This isn't the end. I won't let this be the end. Aenys will… I won't let him get away with this!"
Calla nodded. "You go check on Aerion. I'll… go do the right thing."
Daena momentarily widened her eyes, followed by a determined nod. "Promise me, Calla," she whispered, "Don't die."
"I won't. I'll… fight to live with no fear towards death." That was a promise Calla would fight to keep.
—
What does it mean to ask for forgiveness?
The dead cannot grant forgiveness, that much is obvious. I can only ask for the living souls of King's Landing to forgive me… but that won't wash away my sins. Nothing I do or say will.
But I'm still here. I… need to fight. Not anyone else, but my sins, my desire to take the easy way out.
I need to do the right thing. No matter what way that takes me.
Because only with that could I go forward with my head held high.
Daena… Aenys. Aegor. I would come back. This isn't the end. I won't let it end here.
Calla met little restrictions as she walked out of the Red Keep. Guards and soldiers alike were too shocked, or too afraid of her to stop her. She was not even wearing her armour, but this worked towards her goal so she would not complain. She supposed Aenys had not given any orders in regards to her yet.
Just before she stepped out of the gates, Calla paused and glanced at her hands. They were shaking, fingers grasping at empty air… no, at the shape of Crystal's handle.
Many times in the past she had called out the sword to comfort her, to strengthen her will. With Crystal she was invincible.
She closed her eyes. No, she would not pull out the sword no matter how her fingers curled. Calla did not know whether the sword would answer her call. Maybe, maybe not. But she was not going to try it.
She was not worthy of Crystal until she had atoned.
The wind blew on her face, causing her to shiver. Yes, she was ready.
When her feet stepped on the street, she opened her eyes again. The sky was grey and cloudy, just like everyone's expressions in the city. Calla did not have the ability to make the sun shine brighter, but she could at least attempt to wipe one piece of cloud away.
Screams came instantly when people saw her. Terrified, panicked screams, announcing the return of the butcher of Flea Bottom. Her arrival was a wave that washed the tide of people away from her. Still, Calla could see it. Gazes towards her, judging, detesting, that was the gaze reserved for monsters, enemies of mankind.
It was heavy enough to crush anyone. But they were not wrong, not at all. Calla was their enemy. Once someone overcame their fear and discovered that she was no longer a threat… she would no doubt be torn into pieces.
Her time was limited. Determined, she opened her mouth, "Citizens of King's Landing. I'm Calla Blackfyre."
A flat, ordinary introduction. Calla's voice was dry, and it was not as strong as she had hoped in the wind. Yet it was enough to cause another uproar in the crowd. Screaming. Shouting. It was too chaotic for Calla to hear, but she thought she heard someone begging for their lives, and people cursing her, and someone asking "What do you want?"
The Gold Cloaks… no, her Crystal Guards appeared, attempted to control the situation, but Calla waved them away. "As Commander of the Crystal Guards and Princess of the Blood, I forbid any of you from attacking the people of King's Landing by any means," she said, as calm as she could pretend to be.
"Your Highness…" Calla could not recognise the knight speaking to her behind his helmet. Since when did her Crystal Guards start wearing helmets everywhere? All the knights looked the same now, with nothing to distinguish them. Only the same cloak and armour covered them, rendering them into one collective. "This isn't what the King ordered."
Calla wanted to scowl but stopped herself. Aenys would come around, once he understood what she was trying to do. "Go ahead and notify His Grace then. All I ask for you is to stand back and don't interrupt what I'm going to do. Or are you going to disobey this order too?"
The knight's shoulders slumped. "No, of course not…" After whispering to his fellow knights he turned back and rushed into the castle gate, his steps frenetic.
That was one threat neutralised, Calla thought, but she had flipped the hourglass and the sand was dripping down. It was a matter of time before Aenys would send someone to stop her.
Gritting her teeth, Calla started walking down the street, at a pace that was as slow as a stroll. She could feel that the atmosphere of the crowd had changed; after her order, there was less crying and begging for lives, in exchange there were more… agitated shoutings.
When her eyes surveyed the crowd she saw various faces, showing their appreciation of Calla's actions with bared teeth and clenched fists. In short, she could feel the aggressiveness floating in the air. It was going to be a festival for justice.
And Calla would give them justice.
"People of King's Landing, hear! Today I'm here to confess my crimes!" she announced, causing the crowd to go into a frenzy. The noises, the shouting and cursing were loud enough that she felt that she was on a battlefield instead of the city.
Yet she continued to shout at the top of her lungs, with all her might, "A month ago, many people who had lived in Flea Bottom their entire lives, lost their homes, and I was called to address the issue. Instead of dealing with it calmly, I lost my cool when I was attacked, and I killed many! This is my sin, the sin that cannot be atoned. I'm not worthy of my sword, not worthy of Crystal. I'm not even worthy of being a knight!"
This denouncement of herself made the temperature rise. Like a pot of water nearly boiling, the rage of the crowd was on the edge of exploding. Overcoming their terror for the merciless killer, multiple hands extended, fists threatening to reach her.
Calla could not stop her shivering. But she would not let her fear to control her. If she gave in to her desire to protect herself, she would lose everything. "I have requested a trial for my crimes after I woke up, but it was denied. Instead, I came here," here, in the middle of the city, "so you can judge me for my crimes. I'm guilty of ripping the lives of countless innocents, yet… I plead for your forgiveness."
In screams and shouts of bewilderment, Calla knelt on the ground, the rough and uneven rock piercing through the soft fabric of her dress and stabbed into her knees. This was nothing. She had been through a lot worse.
Putting her hands on the same ground to lift her upper body up, she repeated, "I beg for your forgiveness! I know that what I did is atrocious. I know that nothing I do will bring back the lives I killed. But I believe that I can still do something. So please, tell me what you want me to do, and I'll use all my power to achieve it. Or if you aren't satisfied with that… you're welcome to execute me with your own two hands, here and now. I won't resist!"
She looked at the crowd, hoping to hear requests from them. But instead…
She heard laughter. Overlapping, twisted waves of laughter that were full of tears.
"What makes you think we will trust that bullshit after what you did?" Someone laughed, high and sharp, "Murderer! You stole my family from me! Spouting all those pretty words… doesn't mean you understand what you've done!"
Calla flinched when she saw that it was a girl looking younger than her that shouted those words. Barely clothed and muddy, the girl rushed before Calla and slapped her. "I lost everything! You… you don't get to pretend to be high and mighty when you're the murderer!" Her fingers, so thin and weak, tightened around Calla's throat.
Calla could have thrown her off even without Crystal. But instead, she stared into the girl's eyes, paralysed. There was still fear in them, a crippling amount, but the hatred— the belief that she had had everything taken from her and could not possibly lose more— overcame everything and allowed her to stand up to the monstrous murderer.
What… What was her point? How naive… could she be?
To believe that a murderer like herself would be trusted… forgiven… just because of one talk...
She gave nothing concrete. Nothing that could back up her promises. Only pretty words, like the girl had said.
Calla wanted to live. She had promised Daena.
But she also promised… she would not resist.
As Calla fell on the ground, struggling for air, more people surrounded her, now believing that she would not— no, could not— strike back. Soon, the mob would tear her apart, for all the lost souls of Flea Bottom…
Ah, ahh, ahaha… this is my end, isn't it?
Aegor...
As fists dropped onto her, Calla glanced into the sky blankly.
It was covered by clouds, with not a ray of sunlight.
"Stop! Calla, do you think this is the justice you want? This isn't… this isn't it!" A cry echoed in the sky. Even the mob that was all over her stopped moving. This… this is...
Calla twisted her neck desperately. This was not possible. She thought he had closed off himself from her, from them. She thought he would not listen.
"Aenys! You…" Tears that had been hiding deep in her heart spilt out. Because she saw…
Aenys approached the mob, step by step, until he was right in front of Calla… then knelt down, taking off his crown.
"It isn't justice if the real culprit isn't punished," he said, remorseful tears wetting his cheeks, but his words still strong, "I was the one that designed the whole plan to rebuild King's Landing. I was the one that insisted on the plan to go forward even when there were glaring flaws. And after your massacre, Calla, I was the one who favoured a crackdown on the dissents over reconciliation. There is much more I did that you don't know… the guilt I carry is much heavier than yours. If you should die, then I should die too."
Throwing his crown— Aegon's crown— on the ground, he shouted, "This crown— take it if you wish! I don't want this crown anymore… if it's what made me… made me into what I am now… then rip it into shreds, sell it. This isn't enough to repay what we have taken from you, but I'll also open the treasury and let you take what you desire. It's the King's words. All compensation plans that I have rejected before to save face… I'll approve of them."
His head hitting the ground, he begged, "So please, spare Calla… forgive us…"
To his words the crowd surrounding Calla crumbled, scrambled to pick up the crown. Calla too extended a hand to reach for it— it was Aegon the Conqueror's crown, the symbol of House Blackfyre being the rightful monarch of the Seven Kingdoms— but Aenys reached for her first. "It's just a crown," he said quietly, "You're… my sister."
"Aenys… why?"
"I can't bear it anymore. I… I don't deserve to live, after everything that I have done. I'm too cowardly to ask for forgiveness from those who know the full extent of what I did… That's why I came here. I figured that if I should die… then I should at least save yours. It'll be unfair for you to die before me."
"That isn't it! No one wants you to die, Aenys! I—"
"I once thought the same, Your Grace," Aegor said, striding towards them, kingsguards and Crystal Guards close behind, "I don't think I deserve to live after leading your father to death. But I chose to live on, to raise you all. This can't right the wrong I did, but it's my responsibility. There are many things you can do as the King… you need to do them all before you can talk about dying."
"...I suppose it won't be that simple to take the easy way out." Aenys smiled wryly. "Uncle, we are similar, aren't we?"
"Mayhaps. Even if I wish otherwise." Aegor tilted his head slightly to signal the kingsguards to come forward and pick them up— or that's what Calla thought, because after the kingsguards surrounded Aenys to support him, Aegor had pulled Calla onto his shoulders. "You're on my watch," he said simply, "We'll go back to the Red Keep now, and you must rest this time. I won't let you run away again."
Calla glanced at the side of his face, but could not read his emotions. Was he angry? Sad? Disappointed? Worried?
She could not tell. But strangely, she did not feel hurt by this lack of reaction. Perhaps it was the fear still pumping in her veins. Perhaps it was his warmth that transferred to her body. She just had a feeling that… everything was alright, for the moment.
She laid her head on his shoulders and glanced towards the sky. There, among the clouds… was a ray of sunlight shining through, chasing the dark away.
