Hortator – Moon & Star of Westeros - Chapter 12 : The Bells Toll - Part 1
Small Council emergency meeting. About two hours after what had just occurred in the throne room.
Tyrion had thrown his favorite mug down so hard it cracked one of the decorative ceramic tiles on the floor of the Small Council chamber. He was profoundly tired of Joffrey's behavior. To Tyrion it felt like he had the tiger by the tail in this situation. No matter how hard he pulled it would just refuse to behave, opting to use its normal acts of terror and violence instead of being decent. He was sick of it. Absolutely, sick of it. It certainly didn't help his sister encouraged such behavior by allowing anything and everything to be tolerated. For the first time of his entire time in King's Landing did Tyrion wish for his father to arrive to take the position of Hand away from Tyrion.
"Joffrey.." Tyrion couldn't find the words to continue. He himself wasn't exactly sure as to how to phrase the situation Joffrey was in.
"Do you even begin to understand just how dangerous this position is?" Asked Tyrion to Joffrey. Joffrey meanwhile was on the other side of the table, standing above the members of the small council. Seemingly perturbed as to what had occurred earlier. Joffrey of course didn't respond, for the first time it seemed like Joffrey might have some control over his mouth as he hadn't responded in some time to any comments from the Small Council.
"Yesterday. I repeat, yesterday. We got word that Stannis Baratheon was sailing for the capital. And as we were preparing for siege, Nerevar arrives. And the first thing you do. The. First thing. Is terribly insult the man's honor, his appearance, and if I am remembering correctly, you wanted to put him in chains." The members of the small council seemed to bristle at Tyrion's words. Some seemed to fear how Joffrey would react, and as sure as the sun would rise Joffrey turned on his heels to look at his sitting uncle.
"The king can do as he likes! Imp!" Snapped Joffrey. Varys, a man known for his dramatics, played into a flinch as he leaned back and away from Joffrey. As Joffrey recollected himself, he finally asked the first reasonable question to come from him in probably weeks.
"And where is he? He couldn't have gotten far! No guards in the city reported him leaving, not the gates, not the water! Did he just.. disappear?" His comments seemed to be directed towards Varys and Littlefinger, both of which interlocked their eyes for a moment to pass an unspoken conversation. The more experienced members of the council could tell they knew, but there was something about the situation that made the information inherently unpleasant.
Littlefinger started first. "He's in King's Landing. In fact, as far as I can tell he ran into the merchant quarter and has not left." Littlefinger seemed to grimace at delivering this information, with another silent stare he gave the signal to deliver the other part to Varys.
The plump, bald headed man cleared his throat before beginning. "Well, your grace. I'm afraid we're in a bit of a strange situation. Yes, my little birds can find him. I already suspect which set of buildings he lies in at this moment, bakers if you could imagine it. That said, we have an issue."
It was Cersei who spoke on the behalf of her son. "And what is that, Lord Varys?"
"He's in King's Landing." Bluntly stated Littlefinger.
Not wasting any time Varys continued for his hated peer. "That's our little situation, your grace. He is here. Still. In King's Landing. Do you mind if I tell you a story, your grace?"
Joffrey seemed like he was going to lash out, but it was his mother who reached out and grabbed him by his hands. It seemed to ease Joffrey, who silently gave a nod of approval to Varys to speak.
"There once was a little boy, who loved to explore, to climb trees, and play in the ocean. One day, this little boy, he found…a cave. But this was no ordinary cave, no! No within, was it! A sleeping dragon! A mighty creature, its wings though folded, looked like they could stretch across the sky itself if they were ever to unfurl." Joffrey seemed to not understand where Varys was going with this story, but he gave a little motion of his hand as if to ask to give the story a little time to develop itself.
"He thought of waking the beast, but it was his mother who had told him to never wake a dragon, for as noble a beast it may be, it may unleash a terrible wrath upon you. So the little boy, respecting the words of his mother, never attempted to wake the dragon, but, he was curious, oh so curious. He told his father about the dragon, he wanted to learn more you see, but his father? Oh, his father." Varys shook his head at the action of what is to come from the father. "He assembled a band of men. Swords, spears, pikes, and mail. All to slay the beast. They found the dragon, sleeping in the cave, and the first man stabbed its scales with the pike."
Varys who seemed to be enjoying the story he was creating leaned forwards towards Joffrey. With a cool tone the Master of Whispers said. "The dragon woke. Was it scared? Was it confused? It was, for all but a moment, and when that moment passed it unleashed itself upon those men. It burnt them all, leaving nothing behind but a melted puddle of molten steel."
"What is the point of this stupid story?!" Demanded Joffrey.
Littlefinger, who had done his best to keep his neutral visage, had a slight twinge of annoyance as he felt this stupid boy was going to get them all killed. "Your grace. Indoril Nerevar, is the dragon of this story."
Varys frowned ever so slightly, it seemed Littlefinger's own spies had beaten Varys to the valuable information that was the first name of the Nerevarine. Varys knew most things about the Nerevarine. Where he was sending the gold, his capabilities, perhaps most of his relationships, but that first name had escaped Varys. It made the Master of Whispers wonder what else Littlefinger knew that he didn't.
"We should be the boy of this story. We have a dragon walking in our city." Little finger paused before he continued. "Your grace you saw what happened. One of the Kingsguard murdered, another who has still yet to wake, and a third who's lost the will to fight after being forced to kill the resurrected corpse of his fellow man."
Even Joffrey had to admit the whole situation wasn't good, but this just seemed ridiculous to him. "And.. we're just going to stand around, ignore the fact that man, that pretender! Is just.. in the city. Doing whatever he pleases?"
"Yes."
"Yes."
Both Varys and Littlefinger said simultaneously.
"I don't understand, Varys you're the master of whispers. Why not send an assassin to kill him, why not send a thousand? The crown can afford it!" Demanded Cersei of Varys, who in turn seemed to give a smirk, as if he already had the answer to this preprepared in his mind.
"Ah, and waste the crown's gold? Even if we were to hire a faceless man, I am uncertain they would succeed. Perhaps they would, but let's consider what could happen should they not. What is to stop Indoril from.. oh, I don't know, marching right up the steps of the Red Keep. Burning everyone in his way to death, and ultimately killing the king himself?" Varys asked.
The remaining members of the Kingsguard wanted to object, they so desperately wanted to, but the fact of the matter was there really wasn't anything they could do. The Nerevarine had bested three of them in a fight, though it wasn't easy for him. Now they're down two members, and the only one surviving that fight relatively unscathed doesn't seem to be the man he used to be. Jamie slammed his golden hand down upon the table, the sound of which startled everyone in the room.
"If I cannot defend my king here, I will take him elsewhere." Stated the Lord Commander.
Cersei was first to respond. "You would flee the city?! Abandon it so Stannis can walk in and take the throne for himself! Or worse, that monster who tried to murder my son!"
"God's damn it, Cersei. What else can I do? I am Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, I am tasked to protect my king. If I, and the Kingsguard, cannot reasonably protect our lord here, then we need take him elsewhere!" A visibly angered Jamie retorted to his sister.
"Where?!" Demanded Cersei.
"Anywhere! Anywhere but here, Cersei! We can take him to father! We can take him to Casterly Rock! I'll put him on a ship and have him sent to Essos or the Summer Isles if I have to!" Jamie was now so close to his sister that some within the small council wondered if he would strike her, but no such blow came as Cersei seemed to hang her head in defeat.
Tyrion finally raised his voice to speak. "Everyone, enough! Just stop! We have a lot of issues before us, the last thing we need is us fighting each other." Tyrion as the acting hand of the king was the supposed authority in this situation. Tyrion pulled himself up onto the table, now upon it he walked over to the part that was shaped like the God's Eye.
"Last we heard father's army is at Harrenhal. As Hand I formally recommend Joffrey be evacuated from the city and sent to be with father. In the meantime, we will take it upon ourselves to defend the city in his name." Many, especially Joffrey, seemed to blanch at the idea of the king abandoning the city. They all knew morale would collapse through the floor should the defenders hear such news, but many options did not remain.
"What if we asked Nerevar for help against Stannis?" Asked Tyrion. Everyone else on the council seemed absolutely flabbergasted, even Jamie seemed to be stunned his brother would suggest something so blunt.
"The man saved my life, but I have a duty Tyrion." Reminded Jamie.
A roar of objecting voices shot across the council as Tyrion began to stomp his feet upon the table to silence everyone. Once the voices were quiet Tyrion continued. "I know, it's a terrible idea, but what if we apologize to Nerevar for the unfortunate day in court and pardon him of any crimes." Again, came the angered voices, but Tyrion wasn't having any of it. "Does anyone here have any better ideas?!" Tyrion yelled, trying to speak louder than anyone else.
"Everyone! Get out now! Jamie, Joffrey, ggrgh, Tyrion.. Stay." Screamed Cersei. Littlefinger and Varys, already wanting to get out of this disaster quickly pulled themselves from their chairs and made their way for the exit. Anyone else remaining on the council had made for the exit. Once they were gone Cersei leaned back in the chair, she seemed almost on the edge of tears as she pulled Joffrey close to her chest.
"Jamie… Jamie please, please keep Joffrey safe." Cersei begged Jamie. Tyrion, watching this, knew she was speaking to him not as a sister but more akin to a wife. Their incest was no secret, but what many didn't appreciate was just how close they were. This wasn't a one-time fling; it was practically a secret marriage.
Jamie placed his left hand upon her shoulder and squeezed it tight before giving her a warm smile. The smile scared Tyrion, as it lacked any of his classic arrogance, it seemed the situation truly was hopeless as Jamie said. "I promise Cersei. I will do everything within my power, and within my abilities, to keep Joffrey safe. I swear to it." Joffrey was attempting to wiggle out of the grip of his mother as Jamie spoke, but she gave him no room to move, intent to hold onto him as long as she could.
Tyrion walked back to his end of the table and stepped down into the chair. He reached for his glass of wine and stared idly into it as he swished it around. Watching as the bands of wine stretched themselves thin before breaking one by one. Tyrion took a swig of the wine, letting the alcohol slip down into him in an attempt to douse the fire of anxiety.
"You should leave King's Landing. Take everyone. Tommen, Myrcella. Everyone, and head for either Casterly Rock or father. I'll..let Jamie decide which is best." Stated Tyrion, to which Jamie responded with a nod of affirmation.
"I'll stay behind and do what I can for King's Landing." Tyrion said as he took in another swig of wine. Joffrey for the first time hugged his mother tight. Feeling his hands grip against her body profoundly terrified Cersei. There was no worse feeling than knowing the fear your child felt. Cersei placed her head right onto the left shoulder of Joffrey and gave a silent nod.
To Tywin Lannister
Father, the situation in King's Landing has become untenable. As you may know, Stannis Baratheon has made his intentions of taking King's Landing known since the start of this war. A fortnight ago we received word he was making his last preparations and has already sailed by the time this letter is written. Lord Nerevar did arrive to swear fealty to Joffrey, but something went wrong the second he arrived. Your grandson, Joffrey, blew the opportunity by repeatedly insulting Nerevar. When Nerevar responded with his own words, Joffrey demanded he be killed. Now two Kingsguard lie dead. One by blade, the other just died a few hours ago after languishing for a day, caused by what I could only describe as a bolt of lightning.
It shattered the last bit of confidence we had against this attack. We've assumed at any point, Lord Nerevar could strike during Stannis's attack, and we are expected this to happen. Had it just been Stannis we would have kept the royal family in the Red Keep, but it's not just Stannis. I fully expect King's Landing to fall to Stannis Baratheon now, perhaps if we're fortunate we could hold the Red Keep, but I do not think the Red Keep could last forever in a siege. As the acting Hand I've taken the grim responsibility of giving Jamie leave to escort the family away from the capitol. They should be traveling for you by carriage.
I've done the best I can father. I'm preparing King's Landing for the assault, but word of the King's escape has already slipped out. I don't know whether it was Varys or Littlefinger, or just the fact his absence is notable, but the smallfolk know, so morale is dropping. I'm sorry father. I just couldn't reign in Joffrey.
It's quite possible Lord Nerevar may attempt to wrestle the throne from Stannis, should that happen I will do what I can to broker an alliance to push him off the Iron Throne, but I don't think many lords are going to stand up to a supposedly magical man who attacked the Twins, Riverrun and now the Red Keep by himself – and won every time.
I do not think you will receive another letter from me but should you do it will likely be me notifying you of my imprisonment by Stannis Baratheon, or possibly Indoril Nerevar.
Tell Jamie I love him.
Tyrion Lannister
Four days later in King's Landing. The arrival of the 'dark lord' Stannis is imminent. In the basement of a bakery.
"I hear you. Stop trying." The Nerevarine said as he consumed some of the bread he had purchased earlier.
A voice from the shadows began to speak, it was male, but that's all the Nerevarine could tell. "Lord Stannis's fleet will arrive in not a few days."
The Nerevarine only gave a grunt of affirmation as he took another bite from the bread. Holy Azura was the bread hard, but it comforted him, reminded him of his days marching in Morrowind. The thought of Morrowind made him feel angry. This place, Westeros, disturbed him. Tywin Lannister, Joffrey Baratheon, they're all cruel tyrants. Men such as Robb Stark and Edmure Tully have likely plunged the continent into more turmoil with their trickery. The Nerevarine just didn't understand it, more specifically he didn't understand these people. They seem to be driven by desires. Desire for wealth, honor, power, and all it does is lead to more misery.
And now, this shadow speaks of a man, Stannis. Stannis Baratheon, another lordling, come to claim that iron throne the bastard was sitting on. It made the Nerevarine shake his head as he chuckled to himself. It was only now could he fully appreciate Westeros for what it was. It was a bottomless pit. A pit that consumes everyone and everything. Only the strongest, the meanest, the smartest, could survive in this pit.
The suffering he had seen had been astronomical, and he himself didn't do anything to help. He murdered and destroyed on the behalf of a man he hardly knew, just out of some idea that he might get the resources to go home. The Nerevarine knew he had to do better, he had to not be just some lap dog fighting other people's fights. He had to end the fights, crush them into a thousand tiny pieces, make everyone stop and accept what they have. It was the first time the Nerevarine genuinely considered just putting an end to this squabbling by ripping whoever was on that throne right off it.
Taking it for himself, the Nerevarine thought of it. He remembered what Robb Stark had said, and though it was a trick the Nerevarine feared it planted an idea in his head. An appeal to his desire to lead, to be a hero. By Azura it was brilliant. The Nerevarine gripped the bread so hard it began to shatter in his gauntlet as he knew he was unconsciously working himself up to do something drastic. Something that would threaten to tear this land apart. He wanted to stop himself, but his arrogance was winning. He saved Morrowind with his leadership, why couldn't he do the same for Westeros?
"Tyrion Lannister does much to prepare for this fight, but he fears you the most, Indoril." Again, the Nerevarine said nothing to this shadow. Only going back to eating the bread as he gazed towards a nearby flickering candle, lost in his own thoughts.
"He plans to destroy Stannis with wildfire." The shadow said, causing the Nerevarine's head to turn to look at the shadow.
"The same Aerys used?" Asked the Nerevarine to the shadow, reminded of what Jamie Lannister had told him from his bath about a month ago.
"The very same. Tyrion plans to burn Stannis and all his men to death in the bay. As we speak, he loads a ship in the harbor with it, the ship itself a great trap. Ready to float out into the harbor, an eager gift to welcome Stannis to King's Landing." Everyone in Westeros had a motive, this much was clear to the Nerevarine. He could only assume by telling him of this, his hopes would be the Nerevarine would prevent the ship's maiden voyage.
"Stannis? What do you know of him?" The Nerevarine asked, assuming biased information would be better than nothing.
"A man who never smiled. A man one could be described as grim to his core. A man who knows nothing but duty." Replied the shadow.
Even given so little, it still sounded superior to Joffrey Baratheon. The Nerevarine gave a nod to the shadow.
"I'd recommend you leave. A city under attack always goes to Oblivion." The Nerevarine said as he stood up from his chair to walk closer to the source of the voice. It was clear the shadow had intentions of staying in the darkness, but the Nerevarine got just close enough to make out some features. He was dressed well, but nothing about his clothes obstructed his movements. He was a Westerosi, with short brown hair, the cut almost stylish. With dark lines of a goatee on his face.
The shadow turned and left the cellar. Leaving the Nerevarine alone. Leaving him to his thoughts as the moment of truth grew closer with each passing flick of the candle.
One night later. Upon the walls of the Red Keep
Tyrion remembered that night. Jamie, the Kingsguard, Cersei, Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella had left King's Landing in secret by carriages. Tyrion had sent ravens to his father and Casterly rock, both saying to prepare for the arrival of his majesty Joffrey, but the letter to his father was far more personal. Tyrion remembered writing the letter, it pained him to do so as it would have been just so disappointing to read, but he knew better than to lie to his father.
They had done what they can to prepare for the assault of Stannis's forces. The only ace they had left up their sleeve was Tyrion had managed to collect Wildfire from the old Wisdom Hallyne some weeks ago to lay a trap in the blackwater bay, but he was unsure if this would work. The trap was in the form of a ship, which would travel out into the bay to ooze a deadly trail of wildfire behind them. Bronn would stand waiting on one of the nearby rocks of the bay to launch a burning arrow to ignite the wildfire. At least so was the plan. The actual implementation of this plan remains to be seen.
Little did Tyrion Lannister know Tywin Lannister had already collected Joffrey and the rest of the royal family as he was already marching south with an army to reinforce the city. Along the way Tywin had been doing his best to make amends with the Tyrell's, who had lost their Stag Renly to what was said to be dark magic by Stannis. Neither Tywin, nor Tyrion knew if the city would hold with the wild card of Nerevar loose in its grounds.
The day had come, or so Tyrion's naval advisors suspected. The sun had already fallen as in the distance thousands of lights could be seen approaching from the ocean. It was Stannis Baratheon, come to take his throne. Tyrion gave the signal for the pyromancers to prepare the ship to be launched soon, for he assumed Stannis's fleet would need to get closer for the wildfire to be effective, but once the time came for confirmation to come. It didn't arrive.
Tyrion ran. He ran across the walls as fast as he could to reach the portion that overlooked the docks. He could feel his heart racing as he ran by the thousand or so that dotted the walls. Why hadn't the ship launched? He internally screamed at himself. Once he reached the edge near the dock it was then he could see Lannister archers were already engaged with a foe. Loosing arrow after arrow towards the dock, yet none seemed to effectively meet their mark at this distance. Tyrion leaned his head over a gap in the wall to see him.
The Nerevarine. He was on the ship. He was killing all of the Pyromancers. He had found out about this plan. Tyrion felt a pang of dread fill his very being as he wondered how this could have happened. It was only then did he truly realize what had just happened. Maybe someone on the small council, someone personally close to Tyrion and still within the city, had just sold out the entire Lannister cause.
Tyrion began to run from that section of the wall. Running as hard and as fast as his little legs could carry him as he made his way to the other side of the wall to try to signal Bronn. Tyrion lifted up a torch from the wall and tossed it down, then another, and once more, out of some hope that Bronn would be able to tell something was wrong with the signal being given three times without the ship in motion. Everyone could see Stannis's fleet approaching, it had reached the point of now or never.
Tyrion was nearly knocked straight off the wall as a brilliant green glow rose into the sky. Wildfire was tossed everywhere across the docks; the force of the explosion alone completely obliterated the docks of King's Landing. The explosion was tossing burning blocks of stone everywhere, and the sounds of distant screams could be heard. Tyrion rose to his feet; he desperately made the journey across the wall again to see the damage.
There was a massive hole punched straight in the outer wall. To make matters worse the inner wall of the Red Keep was greatly damaged on the side of the explosion. Just as Tyrion was hoping it would be enough to keep them out, a small section partially slumped down, killing a few dozen Lannister men as it buried them. The gap was steep, a veritable mountain of stone, but it was a gap, nonetheless. There was no more time left as Tyrion turned away from the burning green ground to see Stannis's forces beginning to arrive.
The men were already losing strength, with the knowledge of their king's absence many of the goldcloaks began to flee from their positions. The better equipped and veteran Lannister troops attempted to prevent their retreat, but most began to let them go as it was proving to be more trouble to keep them on the defenses. It was only then did Stannis's forces begin to land on the beachhead, pouring out in ever increasing waves.
Tyrion felt himself trying not to have a heart attack as he gave orders to the men on the walls to kill any stag they see. Arrows poured down from the remaining walls onto Stannis's men, the first wave was mostly annihilated but their stragglers had successfully pushed all the way to the gap in the outer wall. Once the second wave came Tyrion had his troops unleash any remaining projectiles they had. Javelins, rocks, boiling oil. All of it came crashing down onto the Stormlanders, but they did not budge.
A force of Lannister's ran forth to try to plug the gap in the wall but a few hundred Stormlanders were already pushing through the gap. The sheer weight alone was enough to push the Lannister's back. It was now assured by all; Stannis Baratheon had pushed his way into the city. Though taking the castle would be another question. For the better part of thirty minutes more and more men poured into the gap, slowly spreading through King's Landing, which by this point had all of its bells ringing to signal a surrender. Though the city had surrendered, the Red Keep had not. Many of the Lannister forces had retreated into this fortress, with various pockets scattered throughout the city being pushed by Stannis Baratheon's army.
"My lord!" A runner exclaimed to Tyrion, who was trying his best to not look hopeless for his men. "It's Stannis! He's at the gates of the Red Keep, he wants to parlay."
Many of the men looked to Tyrion, nonverbally begging the little lion to go treat with Stannis. Wordlessly Tyrion began to make his way from the walls of the Red Keep to the courtyard. Walking across it he could see there was a standoff of sorts happening at the gate. Stannis himself on the far side of a roofed battering ram, likely to hide from arrows should any archer think themselves a hero.
"Your city is lost!" Exclaimed the dour man, who perhaps for the first time in his life was on the edge of cracking a smile. "King's Landing is mine." Said Stannis Baratheon.
"I still have the Red Keep!" Yelled Tyrion.
"For how long? I see how many men you got in there! You'll starve. Starve fast. Starve as I did in Storm's End for my brother, Robert." Stannis a man experienced with being on the other end of a long siege had already poked a hole through what would be Tyrion's next lie.
"A relief force is coming." Tyrion retorted to this, but Stannis from under the battering ram finally smiled.
"Oh, oh I know. And I'll be waiting for them. I got more than enough food in this city to hold you till you starve to death. A shame I won't be waiting for them to arrive. I'm coming in to sit on my throne." Said the Stag as the battering ram began to get pulled back into its position to be dropped into the large gate. The Lannister forces poured boiling oil out from the top of the gatehouse, instantly scalding three men to death, but they were soon replaced by other Stormlanders. The head of the ram fell and smashed against the gate. The iron bent with an ear-splitting bang, but the gate held as the ram began to pull back again. Now the Lannister's were throwing burning barrels of pitch over onto the ram, but the sloped roof covered in some sort of oily substance prevented it from igniting.
Tyrion could feel time slow to a crawl. Was this really how he was going to die? Killed by Stannis Baratheon? Tyrion always hoped he would die drunk, in bed with some woman, but to be killed by Stannis? It was almost disappointing. Tyrion made a motion for more Lannister men to come to defend the gate, and soon a shield wall was formed as Tyrion made a hasty retreat into the Red Keep itself. With the battle ranging on outside Tyrion used his hand to rub the sweat from his brow. It was then he saw it, the throne room empty. Nothing with him but the sound of battle outside, reverberating through the glass, or so he thought.
"Tyrion." The little man nearly snapped his own head off he turned so fast. It was the same man who had sabotaged his wildfire plot, the Nerevarine. His helmet was currently not on his head, leaving him with nothing but his hair sticking high as usual. Tyrion pulled his short sword from its sheath and pointed it at the Nerevarine.
"You! You've gotten us killed! You've certainly killed me! Stannis is in the city! He'll be in the Red Keep before reinforcements will arrive!" Tyrion yelled out the obvious as he swung the blade at the Nerevarine, who simply stepped out of the way, causing Tyrion to stumble.
"I won't let him kill you, Tyrion." The Nerevarine said as Tyrion continued to swing his blade into the Dunmer. Only upon the fourth attempt did the Nerevarine slap the flat part of his blade with Wraithguard, causing it nearly to fall out of the hands of Tyrion.
"Stop swinging that damn blade at me, Tyrion." An annoyed Nerevarine said.
"No!" Tyrion said. It was an almost childish sight as he charged forth at the Nerevarine, who in turn ran to meet Tyrion. Resulting in the small man colliding against the larger form of the Nerevarine. Tyrion could only groan as he fell to the ground, the short sword clattering away from him.
"God's it's over." Tyrion mumbled to himself.
"I wouldn't say that Tyrion, I've come back from worse. Others have come back from worse. If anything, people will say you were.. brave, for leading this defense, especially when your little king ran away." The Nerevarine quipped as the sounds of the fighting got much closer. As if it were happening right outside of the throne room.
The doors were pulled open. The first thing Stannis Baratheon sees is Tyrion Lannister down on the ground, staring up at the ceiling with his sword some feet away, while the Nerevarine is standing above him. Stannis was still smiling, what he wanted was right there for the taking. Stannis's men began to pour into the castle to kill the Lannister forces, all the while Stannis with his most elite men approached the two.
"I see you've caught the little man for me." Stannis said. Tyrion didn't even bother to move his body from the floor, now having embraced the end.
"In a way. I'm more here to prevent you from killing him, he's.. an acquaintance of mine." The Nerevarine said.
"That so? You an ally of the Lannister's?" Stannis, as firm as ever, asked.
"I was. I tore a swath through the Riverlands for Tywin, even rescued his son Jamie from Robb stark. Well… most of Jamie." The Nerevarine remembered how that went. Stannis's rare smile died for his familiar grim expression upon hearing this. He knew who he was now.
"You're the man Robb Stark and Edmure Tully hailed as the new king of the Seven Kingdoms, Lord Nerevar. Come to take my throne, just as Cersei birthed bastards to take it from my house?" Upon this line of questioning most of Stannis's men took on a more defensive stance around their liege.
"Over the past some days, I've learned much about you, Stannis. A man who defends his home, for months on end, while his brother runs off to get seven kingdoms, or I guess it would technically be eight kingdoms. And all you get in return is some volcanic island in the middle of the ocean. I think your brother, well. Fucked you." The Nerevarine bluntly declared.
Stannis didn't seem bothered by this. "He did. Doesn't matter now. I have my throne. You defeated the imp for me, and word reached to me it was you who blew a hole through their defenses. So, I'll forgive your false claim to Westeros, but you will kneel to me, swear your allegiance to me, and proclaim me as your king." Demanded Stannis.
The Nerevarine didn't say anything as he started to walk away from Stannis Baratheon. Quite literally stepping over Tyrion Lannister as he made his way to the Iron Throne. He looked upon it, by Azura was it sharp in some places, it seemed to be more deathtrap than chair.
"Stannis.." Began the Nerevarine, but he trailed off for a moment. He took in a depth breath before saying. "I am a Dunmer. Normally I would live anywhere between three hundred and five hundred years, six if I was lucky. But, I am no normal Dunmer, because of Azura, my god, I'm essentially immortal. So, tell me this. If I know I'm going to within reason live forever, why should I let a man such as yourself sit this throne?"
Stannis could see where this was going, but he decided to give the Nerevarine one more chance. "Ser. You've done me a great service. I don't want to kill you, but I will if I must."
"I don't want to kill you either, Stannis. To be honest, I'm tired of all the killing. There was a time in which I just wandered my homeland for a while. I tried many things. Traveling, fishing, treasure hunting, it was.. nice. I didn't have to be always facilitating someone's death, but it appears it's what I must do these days. Just as I did as Hortator. Yet this is just a distraction. You haven't answered my question." The Nerevarine said as he turned to face Stannis, now standing before the Iron Throne.
"No man lives forever." Said Stannis.
"I am no man. I am mer." Retorted the Nerevarine.
Tyrion could only watch in awe as the Nerevarine slowly lowered himself down. It was a truly unbelievable thing to witness, this foreign man, the one who had attempted to teach him some of magic, the one who he went into battle with, was now sitting down upon the same throne that so many have fought and died for. The Nerevarine pushed himself back a little bit to get more comfortable on the throne. Stannis grimace was palpable as he pulled forth his own blade.
"Sir. You've done me a great service. I don't want to kill you, but I will if I must." The Nerevarine parroted what Stannis had previously said to him, though his voice lacked any mocking, it just so happened to be the same statement. "I'll make you an offer. Your brother was a fool, he wronged you. He took Storm's End from you. Help me defend King's Landing from the Lannister reinforcements and I'll grant you Storm's End, and all of the Stormlands. You earned your ancestral home when you defended it."
"I've earned the Iron Throne with blood and steel." Stannis snarled.
"Ser! King Stannis! The Lannister's have arrived on the edge of the city! It's Tywin Lannister, he marches with twenty thousand Reachmen!" A Stormlander runner exclaimed upon entering the throne room. He then seemed to gawk at what he was seeing on the throne, before Stannis turned to look at the runner, and then to the Nerevarine.
"I'm not going to let Tywin and Renly's old fools take this from me. Nor will I let you. You can either come with me to stop Tywin, or you can sit there, do nothing, and wait for me to return to depose you. What will it be, Nerevar?" Stannis turned to leave the throne room with the Nerevarine still sitting upon the throne. The Nerevarine couldn't help but respect the focus of Stannis Baratheon, and the idea of helping Stannis beat back Tywin from King's Landing strangely tickled the Dunmer.
The Nerevarine pushed himself off from the throne and marched out to go join the Stormlanders in the defense of the now seized King's landing. As he stepped past Tyrion Lannister the Nerevarine said. "You better find a way out of here, little lion."
Tyrion didn't need any more encouragement as he scrambled to his feet and ran for one of the stairways that led itself deep into the underground portions of King's Landing. Tyrion was mostly blind as he didn't take a torch to hide him from the roaming soldiers of all sides. Just as he had pushed himself through a crevasse he ran into him, Varys. Varys had built something that appeared to be a hideout or maybe a secret home in one of the forgotten parts of King's Landing. Varys gave Tyrion an awkward look.
"Ah. I see you've found my home in the chaos." Varys gestured to a nearby chair for Tyrion to sit in.
Tyrion, who was tired, confused, scared, and just all around beaten down eagerly took the seat. He then looked around the room, it was completely furbished. The walls were made of stone, and the floor wood. Rugs, paintings, it had it all.
"What is this?" Asked Tyrion.
"One of the many secret places that Maegor had built into the Red Keep. You'd be surprised how many such locations exist within its walls. Did you know I've found three separate fresh water sources, a hidden library, two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a room I can only suspect Maegor used to bed his wives." Varys seemed proud of his discoveries over the many years at the Red Keep.
"I believe this was to be a hidden study. Somewhere a king could slip away into to find true privacy to focus on, well, whatever a king wants." Varys gestured around the room before taking a sip from the cup of wine he was already drinking from. "It already had everything I needed. Bed, storage, a bath, a hearth, and then some. And now, through the panic of the assault on the castle, you've slipped right into it. Are you proud?"
"I'm proud to have found safety..it is safety, correct?" Asked Tyrion. To which Varys gave a quick nod in return.
"You were never as much trouble as Littlefinger was. You have a heart almost as big as your head. But I'm going to need your silence on this place, otherwise I may have to put a quick end to your life. It's not personal, just the rules of the game." Varys threat was more of a formality. He already knew Tyrion wouldn't reveal this place. If anything, Varys suspected he'd find Tyrion down here occasionally in the future just to get away from the hell that can be courtly politics, or in this case, war.
"Oh, don't worry, not a word. I don't think I have any friends to say anything to, anyways." Tyrion replied, to which Varys laughed.
"Get yourself comfortable, we could be in here for days, possibly more." Was all Varys could say as he returned to what he was doing earlier, reading a book.
