Reign of the Fallen

A Game of Thrones Fanfiction

By Millie55

Marcus

There was chaos around him, yet he could hear nothing at all. Not in the moment, not which his thoughts screamed louder. Amber eyes watched the lips of those speaking int he room, their expressions twisted in anger with the news of their loss. Zachariah. Heir to Fort Stryder, slaughters in cold blood at The Twins. Standing at the head of the table it played over in his mind, haunting him. They had just been among the celebrations, drinking ale and swapping war stories in their camp. They were surrounded by those who fought along side them, soldiers, squires but also friends. Running out of ale, Zachariah had volunteered to fetch more along side their squire. He hadn't been out of sight for long, coming back with his stupid boyish smile and a laugh that brought happiness to all that had heard it. It however, was cut short as his breath was taken by a blade. Blood coated iron, glistening in the light of flickering flames. They had caught eyes just for a moment before he dropped, Northern blue meeting the distinct amber of House Gwhendel. The sight had ripped the poor man's heart out, drawing him into a feral state of mind. Killing all that had challenged him.

"Father," it was the only word that had pulled him from the terrors of his mind. It was spoken from the lips of his son Cassius, Zacariah's twin brother. Unlike his late brother, Cassius was broad and strong, relying on his physical strength rather than assuring he was loved and adored by all. Marcus had always believed that Cassius would be a greater Lord than Zachariah, but he did not want it to happen this way. Not with death.

Together, the two men shared a moment of embrace. Strong arms holding the other near, calloused hands gripping at cotton and furs that hung off broad shoulders. They had no time to mourn at the twins. Little to mourn now, there was much more that needed to be done than shed tears. Someone had to pay for the murder of his son, so it shall be done. Pulling back, he gave his son a nod. How Cassius grew taller than he, he could only guess. The eldest born must have gotten it from Adilayde's father. Fully parted now, he watched as the men around him finally calmed and gave their Lord the silence he needed to speak. Marcus however, struggled to find his words. Speaking of his loss would make it a reality, as if seeing it wasn't enough.

The room was much emptier than he remembered it to be. Loss was much greater than his son. He lost many of those in his guard, men he considered his family more than soldiers to fight for him. To fight for the King of the North, Robb Stark. A heavy breath took him. Deep in his bones he could feel that darkness was to come. No good could come from such bloodshed.

"For many, we are entering a time of mourning," he started off, his voice stronger than he expected. Marcus was never one to display his weakness. To display that he was completely broken inside. "Mourning the loss of brother, fathers, sons. My son. We had fought for our King, King of the North Robb Stark. The kingdom has fallen. Lured into festivities, respected as guests only to land in yet another battle. A battle with many casualties.

"These acts, they will not go ignored. The lives lost, they were not theirs for the taking. Not with such disrespect. Such dishonor. Our enemies can not see our vulnerabilities. This is not a time of weakness. Perseverance is Power. These words, the words of my house, have lead us to our strength. We will not be weighed down. We will put our sorrows beneath us, and use them to build us up higher.

His attention was then turned to an older man in the room. Maester Farrin, an essential member of the Gwhendel household. He had been with Fort Stryder longer than Marcus himself as he had been the councellor, tutor and healer to former Lord, Lord Caspian. "Maester, could you remind the room of the words of House Stryder?"

"We will rise, my Lord," the elder man stood as he addressed the man he served.

"We will rise," the lord repeated as he began to pace, "like the phoenix on our banner, we will not parish. We will be reborn from our suffering and burn all who have brought us such pain. Tonight we shall morn, tomorrow we rise and we will persevere."

With that, he let the room clear until those closest to him remained. His son Cassius, Maester Farrian and captain of the guard Desmore Rogan. As much as he wanted to retire to his chambers, he needed to assure the rest of his family was taken care of. "For the majority, we are confined to the safety of Fort Stryder," he addressed the three of them in an almost fearful tone, "I can not hold all my children dear tonight. Delilah, she still remains in the Capitol in service to the Queen-"

"Her bastard may be King, but Cersei is no queen," his son voiced out, his distaste for the Lannisters blatant. Being raised by his aunt Johanna Lannister, Marcus' face twisted at his son's fowl tone.

"Show some respect for your blood," Marcus growled towards his son, wisps of long, gray hair falling into his face. The blood of the lion ran through their veins, Marcus' mother, Morgana was Lannister born. The roar of a lion was rarely evident, the blonde hair and bright eyes of their bloodline lost in the dominant genes of House Gwhendel and the extinct House Stryder. When Marcus looked at his son Cassius, all he was was Stryder with the exception of one of his eyes. Mainly blue, one had the oddest shape of amber in one quadrant. It was the Gwhendel shining through.

"My blood?" Cassius sounded strongly, standing tall from the table, "my blood is spilled on the lands of Frey. Where my brother lay lifeless!"

"The Lannisters may be the only House with enough power to aid us in our fight for justice," Marcus pointed out to his son, reminding him that at twenty-five years he still had much to learn about leadership and war. "That is why I will be leaving Fort Strdyer to you come sunrise. I plan to ride south. Collect forces from Gwheniver and Casterly Rock while retrieving your sister from Kings Landing."

"Ride south my lord?" the maester let his voice be known.

"I do not have much a choice, not with my biggest allies and my daughter - My daughter," he let out a heavy sigh, frustration taking his form. "I need to get her home. I need her here. I need her safe!"

"You shall not ride alone my lord," Desmore spoke up from leaning against the wall. He was a man in which Marcus trusted completely. Marcus and Desmore had grown up together as Desmore's father had served his own. Once boys who fought in the courtyard of Gwheniver, now fought side by side on the battlefield. Marcus was sure he would be dead if it wasn't for the man and would have joined their families if Rogan was ever to bare children with anyone but a whore. "I will ride by your side," he confirmed, "I will have Warne ready the horses come sunrise."

Lord Marcus approached his captain of the guard, wrapping his arms around him in a strong hold. "Thank you my friend," he told him, "you are one I can always count on during dire need. Now, leave me and my son, we have a number of items to discuss."

Sitting back down at the long,dark wood table was just Marcus and Cassius now. The elder of the two at one end, the younger at the other. Pain could be seen in their eyes, yet they both embodied their strengths. Marcus wanted his son to know that he would not waver, that he would not fail to care for those who remained after their great loss.

"You do know what this means don't you?" Marcus sounded as his hands folded atop the table. "That in my absence, you will be Lord of Fort Stryder. Your family, will be under your care. All in our household will answer to you. Any man, woman or child that comes through our gates will be under your control. Any threat, any bargain will be yours to answer to. A part of me does not think you are ready," he admitted to his son, "prove to me that I am wrong. Prove to me that our House will prevail."

"I will not let you down Father," Cassius promised him, "I will do all I can for our family and our people. I am ready."

The words spoken by his son were quite convincing, Marcus however was still hesitant. He however did not have another choice. Cassius was next in line for Lordship over Fort Stryder and Marcus needed to retrieve their eldest daughter. She was much too vulnerable - much too valuable to be left to the Capitol.

With the assurance that Cassius would have a firm rule over their land, Marcus then took it upon himself to retire to his chambers. He would need all the rest he could get before the long ride ahead of him. A sigh took him as he came to the heavy door. Beyond it he could hear the sorrows of his Lady. Yelps, and choked back sobs. How he was going to break to her that he was to leave, he did not know. Breaking her heart further was the last thing he aspired to do.

The screech of the chamber door was near deafening. Drawing attention to him as he entered. The mass of his Lady's body met his with full force. Adilayde would have knocked him over if he had not been ready for it. An arm wrapping her waist, the other when up to her tangles of hair, holding it to his neck as she hushed her. "My love," he whispered out to her, a kiss then was placed on her forehead, "All will be well again my love. Things will be made right," he promised her.

"My son is dead, how could that be made right?" her words were forced through sobs, almost inaudible to the ears of Lord Marcus.

"We get him the justice he deserves," he told her slowly, a hand leaving the back of her head to stroke dark curls from her face, "and to do this," he paused for a moment and sighed, this was going to kill her. "I must ride south, to Gwheniver, then King's Landing. With Desmore Rogan in my company I will rally my brother and his men, seek aid from the Queen and collect our daughter. With them I will ride home and kill the men who took our son from us-"

"No-" Adilayde sounded and pushed her body from his, "we need you here. With this slaughter there is no saying what will come next for the North."

"It is for that very reason, I must go my love," he told her, voice pained greatly now. "for the unknown may be dangerous for us. The Starks have fallen and we will be asked to kneel to the new Warden's of the North. That is not something I do not think Cassius will be willing to do-"

"But he-"

"He will take my Lordship in my absence, what I would do to protect you will not be the same as his choice of action," he broke to her and reached an arm out in hopes that she would take his hand. "We can not do this alone Adilayde," he reminded her, "there are no allies for us in the North, this is our only option. I fear-" his voice cracked now, mind returning to their daughter, "I fear that the Kings Landing is no longer safe for our daughter in these times of war. We may need her here..."

"Need her here? She serves the Queen, there is no safer place for Delilah," his wife claimed but reached out to take his hand.

"After this, I am not so sure," he broke to her, "we may need her to form allegiance. To form our army."

"Make her a pawn in our war? A token to be wed and traded for soldiers who will parish in the line of fire?" Adilayde spoke, voice growing loud now. There was no sadness left, it had gone to fuel the anger that was now evident in her tone.

It was not a method Marcus favored, but it was how he developed the power he obtained now. He would never have been a Lord, and would have ultimately taken the black if it wasn't for their joining. Marcus also knew that with Delilah's strength an determination, if she did not wed home was a place she would be ready to defend. He did not trust the Lannister's with control over his daughter. It was in the North with her family where she would be the safest.

"If it must be done, it will be done," his voice sounded as he moved to the bed to lay her back, "I leave at dawn. Spending my last hours with you fighting is not my wish. The rising and falling of the sun each day without you will be to great. Lay with me, and for a moment, let me feel no pain," he begged of her, and for the first time since the death of his son, Lord Marcus Gwhendel began to cry.