Chapter XXXII: The Battle of King's Landing (Part II)

Arya

The Mountain was a monster.

He had eyes like none Arya had seen in her life, and she had seen many. She was so tiny compared to him that Arya feared he might crush her with his bare fist if he would intend to.

She braced herself.

"Don't bother."

She glanced at the Hound. Sandor Clegane's face betrayed his emotions. He, for one, looked as much shocked as Arya at his brother's horrifying appearance. But Arya saw something else there. Regret? Fear? She turned away from him before she could make it out.

"You'll die if you fight him alone," she blurted out.

Sandor scoffed.

"No need to fight unnecessary battles, Stark. This one's mine. You go get your share." He pointed towards the Queen's chambers.

Arya's grip tightened around her sword. The Mountain would strike any moment. She knew that she would never be able to kill that man, but could she leave Sandor behind knowing what the obvious outcome of the battle would be?

She sighed in frustration, and lessened her grip.

"You better get back to my sister in one piece, Hound."

With that, Arya sprinted towards Gregor Clegane, and as the Kingsguard unsheathed his sword, she used her feet to slide in between his legs and out the other side. The Mountain grunted and turned to attack her, but his sword got blocked by his brother's. Arya turned around momentarily to look at Sandor who motioned for her to go on. She bit her lip and turned her eyes back to the door infront of her, pushing it open with one hand, and with the other taking out Needle.

It had been a long time since she'd seen Cersei Lannister.

The Queen had not grown less beautiful than Arya had remembered her to be. Age had taken its toll, but it would be easy for anyone to mistake the Queen for being much younger than she actually was. Her long, blonde tresses had been cut short.

Chopped, Arya realized, on seeing the rough edges.

Cersei turned and a veil of confusion draped itself across her face. But then suddenly her eyes widened. Arya frowned. The Queen looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Who are you, girl?"

Arya traced the hilt of Needle with her thumb, and a smile broke out on her face.

"We met many years ago, Your Grace. You knew my father well."

Cersei took a step forward. Her eyes fell on Arya's hip, and then went back to her face. After a moment, her face went calm.

"You're here to kill me?"

The Queen's voice was mocking. Of course, she would think this is a jape. Arya looked even younger than her age.

Arya pointed Needle at the Queen's throat. One slash, and it would all be over. Justice would be served for her father. But she couldn't kill Cersei yet.

"I am Arya Stark," she said, and rejoiced in the shadow that passed over the Queen's face as soon as she did. "It was your fault that my father, Eddard Stark, was executed. On your father's orders, my mother and my brother were slain. It is time for you to face justice, Cersei Lannister." She pressed the tip into her throat and a drop of blood spilled from her white neck.

Cersei laughed.

"You know you look just like her."

At Arya's confusion, the Queen chuckled again.

"Lyanna Stark. She started this. She never left that fat fool alone, even after death. She tricked Prince Rhaegar. She was nothing but a witch. It's strange how much you look like her."

Arya opened her mouth to say something but heard a loud clash of steel from outside which halted her movements.

Sandor.

She had to hurry.

Arya approached Cersei and pressed Needle's blade deeper into her skin. The blood now dripped down her collar.

"How sad, then," Arya said softly, "to be killed by a ghost."

Cersei's eyes sharpened and she pushed against her assailant, but Arya had already ran her blade across her throat.

Blood spilled out of her neck and the Queen fell to the ground. Her eyes bulged out and after seconds of struggling, she lied on the ground with her eyes staring up at her.

Arya wiped her blade across her clothes, and sheathed it in its scabbard.

"Valar Morghuli-"

Before she could finish her words, a sound cut through the air and Arya clenched her ears in pain. Her vision blurred and when she looked at her palms, they were covered in blood. Horrified, she looked at the corpse on the ground, and saw that a pool of blood had gushed out from Cersei's ears as well.

Jaime

body pulled him forcefully to the ground, and for the first time since he had been made a Knight, he considered yielding. He wanted this to end: the fire, the brutal way in which his army was being killed. This wasn't a battle. This was carnage.

He grabbed a shield from a fallen soldier, and used it to push back a Dothraki beast. The moment his longsword pierced through the foreigner's torso, Jaime's limbs protested violently.

pHe wanted to let go; to lie down and let everything be. He wanted to die, and wished that his love for his sister did not run so deep.

But it did. Even after every vile and cruel thing Cersei had done- to him and to others- Jaime found his mind flooded with nothing but her in these moments: which he guessed would soon be his last. Their love had always been a curse. Mayhaps they had been able to find pleasure and some happiness in it, but it had been nothing but poisonous since the moment they had been born.

The fluttering of gigantic wings rang sharply through his ears and Jaime swung his sword through empty air, his lungs almost bursting from the exhilaration.

"Kingslayer!"

A woman's voice rang through the air. It was the first time Jaime had heard her say anything except that wretched word: which made her dragons spit fire. Jaime put all his strength into his legs and ran, and heard the fire burn the ground behind him and follow him.

A dozen men came behind him to shield him from the fire, but the dragon charred them to their bones.

"Kingslayer! Lannister!"

The strength seeped away from his bones and muscles, and Jaime felt his vision blur.

He closed his eyes.

Cersei.

The dragon roared in fury.

Cersei.

Jaime fell to his knees.

Cersei.

His longsword slipped from his hands.

Cersei. Cersei. Cersei.

And then, in a split second, a piercing sound rang through the air, and his eyes opened wildly. Jaime covered his ears with his hands. The ground beneath him shook with a force and he looked behind his shoulder.

The dragon had fallen, screaming in agony.

And before him on the ground, was Daenerys Targaryen.

Alive and unarmed.

Arya

Arya reached for anything to grab on, as a sharp and horrible pain shot through her head. She felt the warmth of her blood slowly drip down her neck to her shoulders.

She dragged herself to the door and pushed it open, and infront of her, Sandor and the Mountain were still fighting, but both of them had been injured and looked weak.

"Sandor!" Arya managed to cry out but her voice didn't reach her own ears. Thankfully for her, he looked at her in response.

He shouted something in return but Arya could no longer feel her ears. She breathed heavily and looked around. The sound had stopped but she still felt as if her bones were shaking inside her body.

In her moment of being undefended, the Mountain lashed at her with his longsword. Arya managed to dodge him, even if she did it too slow. She dodged another blow clumsily before Sandor came between her and the giant and shoved her aside roughly with his arms.

"Get out of here!"

She finally heard his voice, even if it was low. Arya shook her head. She couldn't leave him. He would die. She couldn't abandon him again.

She pulled out Needle to fight beside him, but realized in horror that her body had lost all the strength to attack. Her arms fell slack against her sides.

Sandor grabbed her by her arm.

"Get the fuck out of this damned city before my brother splits your fucking skull into two!"

Arya opened her mouth to protest, but instead felt a sharp stab against her abdomen. The Mountain's sword had grazed across her midsection and left her waist split open. She grabbed herself in pain.

She looked at Sandor who was screaming for her to get away.

But he would die. He would die, and she would fail her sister. But she was of no help. If anything, she was slowing the Hound down.

"Sandor," she called one last time as she paced backwards away from the fight. The Hound turned to glance at her briefly before he had to face his brother again.

Arya felt ashamed as she walked- or rather dragged her body- away from the men and towards the castle doors. Her heart sank at the thought of tears on Sansa's face.

Sister. Arya. Arya. I'm here.

She had made it out of the city when her legs gave away and Arya fell down in a heap of limbs. Her eyes felt too heavy and just wouldn't stay open for her life.

A growl echoed. Arya turned her blurry vision towards the Red Keep, and saw something flying over it. She couldn't make it out at first but then she realized what it was.

"Dragon."

Her voice was but a whisper as she finally closed her eyes. But not before watching a shower of fire land from the sky above the Red Keep, and engulf the castle in red and yellow flames.