Andrew Stark
The moon was a silver disc hanging lonely in the sky. The night sky was just a dark soft ceiling concealed in the fogs. The stars in the sky were nonexistent, as the puffs of grey grew think and hard in the night. The night was dank and chilly and Andrew drew his brown jacket close. There was only an oil lamp to lit up the place and he could see no fire for all the distance he could see.
He leaned onto the broken wooden pillar which suspended a half destroyed roof of a room whose only remains were the wooden pillar, the half destroyed roof and only one side of the wall stood out of the four of the room. He had Frost unsheathed in his hands, the tip of the frozen sword grazing against the wooden floor.
The broken room stood adjacent to the bridge, overgoing one of the branches of the Long Canal which connected the southern end of the main land of Braavos where the Iron Bank and most of its representatives palaces were located to the place where the most popular brothel in Braavos was situated. Those two were the busiest places one could see in Braavos along with the Ragman Harbor. Picking up a spot such as that to kill a man wouldn't be a best option. But the magic here in Braavos was that, it had many other ways in order to reach a specific place and there were other bridges which connected both the lands as well. Other bridges in their best shape and well maintained and frequently used while this thing was old and gaunt and unused by people for many years. Still everything had a reason to exist and was useful in certain way, and the old bridge helped the noble ones of Braavos to get into the brothels unnoticed and without too much trouble from their fellow citizens.
The old bridge was deserted by the people of the Braavos after bridges, better and shorter than that came into existence. Now the only ones to use it were the rich men and the nobles of Braavos only to get a warm night's sleep or if they were tired of their wives and needed a change. Andrew had never found a use for the bridge, until now. Now the bridge had showed it's true use for him for it is this bridge which is going to help him to avenge his family.
For the last few days Andrew had done nothing but follow Viserys Targaryen, taking note of wherever he goes, whatever he does, when he has more number of guards around him and when less and which of them comes in his guard in his private moments. And he had managed to find out almost all of his day's routine.
The mad dragon took to spend his mornings in the Iron Bank with the bankers. He always had a good number of guards guarding him during the morning. He used to have his midday meal in the Iron Bank and used to spend every morning to evening in there with the bankers. Then he returned to the palace with all of his guards when the sun goes down. But once the moon had took the place of the sun in the sky, Viserys Targaryen unfurled his secret part just like the night unfurled the dark. He used to go to the brothel almost every night to spend the night with the Black Pearl. Some days he would bring her to the palace where he was staying in and some days he would spend the night with her in the brothel. When he goes to meet up with the Black Pearl he would take only a small guard with him. Only four men accompanied Viserys Targaryen in his visits to the brothel. And as every other rich merchant and the upper class people of Braavos living near the Iron Bank, he used the Old Bridge for his brief travels.
That made a clear picture for Andrew. Instead of making heavy plans, he had the plan right before him. A deserted bridge and less number of guards made the things easier. With the fogs and the dark to cover him, he could very well kill all of them even before they could understand what had attacked them.
He had been here from the time the the western horizon had gone red. Following Viserys he'd stopped here while the mad dragon had continued on his way to the brothel. He didn't wanted to miss any chances and risk it. Eleven years he'd been waiting for this day and from this day on the dragons will feel the same pain he had felt all these years.
Viserys Targaryen was only the start of the demise of the Targaryens. Andrew knew what a great opportunity this was not only for the death of Viserys Targaryen. When Rhaegar Targaryen hears about his brother's death in Braavos that would definitely lure him to Braavos. Even if he didn't care for his brother he would definitely come for that contract with the Iron Bank. And that contract will be his end just like his brother's had been, Andrew would make sure of it.
The night was chilly. The cold wind blew through and his exposed face felt the worst of it. Andrew cursed himself for not bringing a cloak with him. He moved over to the lamp and put his hands over the heat. The lamp provided the heat he needed and helped him to see in the foggy night. The world looked a grey gloom covered in the fogs even the moonlight had to fight it's way through the fogs to reach the surface. He took his heated palms and pressed them against his cheeks.
The Canal flowed slowly, moving gradually on its way. In the mornings there is a fine chance of seeing some rowboats passing through but it was highly unlikely to see one in the night. With the dark around the boatmen won't risk for a crash and even for their life. The canals in Braavos could be as dangerous as Faceless Men. All you have to do to hide a corpse is to dump it into the canals and the fishes would do the rest. And a crash could very well help you to sleep with the fishes.
His mouth opened in a big yawn and Andrew found sleep clouding his eyes. For the last two days he never slept, always going over the plans to take down the dragon. He damned himself for not taking a good sleep for the last few days. But that wasn't all of it. Even if he had tried to sleep, then the dreams would come to disturb it. Andrew smiled thinking how distant he was from a good deep sleep.
He remembered those old times when he would sleep in his mother's arms, back then sleep had been the easiest of all. Back at Winterfell he would always sleep with his mother's arms around him and never once dreams had frightened him. His mother had always been there to protect him from nightterrors only now she wasn't here to protect him anymore.
Andrew sighed and looked at the flickering flame of the oil lamp. The flame flickered heavily as if to die out when a gush of cold wind passed. Andrew immediately cupped his hands around it and prayed that it doesn't die out. The lamp was the only thing which helped him to see and protected him from the cold. He could see to a certain extent with the help of the moonlight and his clothes kept him warm. But the lamp provided the heat needed for his face and his hands.
He was growing tired every second of the passing time and found himself starting to doze. He got up and walked over to the edge of the wooden platform and knelt. The water was as dark as the night though the true color of it would've been a murky green or a blue. At night there is no colors and nothing but dark. He cupped the cold water in his hands and washed his face clear from the sleep. Doing a work sleepily would only manage to spoil it and Andrew didn't wanted that to happen.
Andrew wondered how long has it been. He was certain that it was past midnight now. The Titan's roar would indicate the time, but he could hear nothing for sometime. Andrew returned to his place by the lamp. He turned back to check if anyone was coming but only saw a beetle buzzing towards the fire.
He took Frost in his hands and waited. He had waited eleven long years for this day and a few more hours won't be much of a trouble. He was glad that he'd brought his dinner or else hunger would've troubled him as much as his sleepiness. Illola had given him a good chunk of bread with boiled oysters and fried sardines for his dinner after he had told her about his plan. Illola was the only one here in Braavos who knew his true name and identity and she kept it a perfect secret that even her daughters never knew of it. She had been afraid about it at first but then realised that he needs to do it.
Just as he was thinking about it he heard footsteps behind him. He could hear the boots thudding against the wood clearly as the night was calm and quiet. As soon as he heard the sound of the footsteps the tiredness and the sleepiness which covered him disappeared and Andrew felt as if he was filled with energy. He could hear the sounds of the footsteps nearing and Andrew leaned over to see them.
He saw all the five of them he'd seen in the evening. Two of them had torches in their hands, one in the front and one in the back. Viserys Targaryen walked in the middle. He had no problem identifying him even in the dark. The silver hair was all messed up, courtesy of the Black Pearl, thought Andrew. He moved back with Frost in his hands and waited for the perfect time to strike.
The footsteps grew closer and closer. Thud, Thud, Thud... the uneven steps of the men arriving further and further. Andrew found himself losing him calmness as he heard the footsteps coming closer and closer to him. He had been waiting for this moment for the last eleven years yet he found himself backing now. He sighed and thought about his parents and family. He remembered his father's smile, his uncle Arthur's laughs and most importantly he remembered his mother's words. 'Remember who you are Andrew. You are Andrew Stark, hailed from the line of Gods and Kings. Whatever you do remember that.' He remembered her sweet smile, her kiss and her, 'I love you.'
Andrew heard the footsteps nearer now. He took the oil lamp and threw it at their way on the wooden platform and hid in the dark. The lamp hit the wood and the fire went out.
"Fuck," Viserys Targaryen muttered and the footsteps stopped. "Who goes there?"
Andrew moved quietly with the dark. He took his dagger in his hand and moved further along the broken wall of the destroyed room.
"Go and see who is that," Viserys Targaryen ordered and he could hear one of the men walking towards him.
He could see the golden glow of the fire approaching him from the other side. 'I love you' Andrew heard the words again. He held his dagger in a back grip and waited near the edge of the Wall. The glow of the torch grew brighter as the guard neared and when he turned, he ended right in front of him and Andrew opened his throat swiftly with a single slash before he could even shout. The torch he was carrying thudded against the wood with his corpse and the fire went out.
Andrew could hear the sound of steel scraping against the wood and leather as they drew their swords from the scabbards. "Shit," one of them yelled and the four of them moved closer drawing their blades bringing themselves in the light.
Using the light of their torch Andrew could see all four of them, watching to every direction with their backs to each other. Andrew threw the dagger at the one in the front facing him and before his body could drop to the floor he rushed a the remaining three.
Andrew kicked Viserys Targaryen. The Targaryen prince stumbled back and fell on the ground. He pressed his attack on the remaining two guards before they could even collect themselves. The guard who held the torch dropped his torch and fortunately it didn't go out. Andrew fought the two guard in the light of the torch. He pressed his attack on both of them simultaneously, attacking the guard on the right, then parrying the attack from his left. The song of steel filled the silent night. Andrew wielded Frost, quick and gracefully, his attacks fell on both the guards in a fluidic motion without missing his steps. He landed two more attack for his every defence. Soon enough he found the opening he needed, he turned the attack from his left with a two handed slash from below and in one swift motion he brought Frost back from his left and split the left knee of the guard whose sword was far away to stop his attack and without wasting a moment Andrew parried the sword of guard on his right with a backhand slash and brought Frost swinging down, cutting the guard open from his shoulder to hip. When the guard on his right fell lifelessly to the ground, Andrew shoved Frost right through the kneeling guard on his left killing him instantly.
When both the guards were dead Andrew turned towards Viserys Targaryen. The dragon was just gaping at him from the ground with a sword in his hand. When he saw him he scrambled up from the ground with all the strength he could muster.
"I'm going to fucking kill you bastard," Viserys Targaryen roared and rushed towards him. "You shouldn't wake the dragon."
Andrew parried his attacks effortlessly, left and right he deflected Viserys' attacks and soon started to press his attack and sent the Targaryen on his heel. He pressed further and further, landing attacks to Viserys' left and right and crossed and locked swords with him briefly before yanking the blade away from Viserys' hands. He slammed the silver and glass pommel of Frost into his face, sending him back to the ground.
Andrew wanted nothing more than to kill the monster then and there but he remembered the words he had said about his mother. 'The first one to catch her will get a chance to taste her. Not even the noblest of the men in Westeros would get a chance to fuck the most beautiful woman in the world.' At the age of five Andrew never understood what it meant, but being a man it was hard not knowing about it. He had heard something that no son should hear about his mother and the gods only knew what tortures this monster had inflicted upon his mother.
Once he dumped the dead guards in the canal, he took the rope he'd brought and tied it to the leg of Viserys. He dragged him through the wood back in the way he came.
"Who the fuck are you?" Viserys Targaryen asked him as he dragged him through the ground but Andrew kept quiet. "I am the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms you bastard. I am a dragon." The Mad Dragon continued his rant. He offered him lordship, wealth and everyother things on their way back and Andrew replied him with sharp tugs which would bang his head in the wood.
Whatever time it has been, there was no one around when they reached the Pearl House, the brothel where the Black Pearl resided. Viserys Targaryen went on again from the start asking who he was again and again before continuing with his offers. Andrew felt the rage pouring over him once more. He left Viserys before the Pearl House and pummelled his face with his fists until nothing but mess was remained of the Prince's once pretty face. Viserys' face was bashed in that he could not speak anymore.
Andrew unwound the rope from Viserys' leg and tied it around his neck. He threw the other end of the rope over the bar from where the board 'The Pearl House' hung indicating the brothel. Andrew pulled the rope on the other side which lifted Viserys Targaryen off the ground. When he'd pulled Viserys upright with only his legs on the ground he kicked and turned the Mad Dragon to face him. Viserys Targaryen tried to say something but he couldn't talk with the broken mouth.
"You wanted to know me, didn't you?" Andrew asked holding the rope which was tied around Viserys' neck. The Prince never showed any response to it. "There is she, in the woods... The first one to catch her will get a chance to taste her... Not even the noblest of the men in Westeros would get a chance to fuck the most beautiful woman in the world." With every sentence Viserys Targaryen's broken face gradually grew big in shock. "I am her son." His eyes looked as though they would jump out and Andrew saw the fear in his eyes, fear as if he'd seen the death itself. "I am Andrew Stark, son of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Ashara Dayne." With that Andrew pulled the rope with all his might hanging Viserys Targaryen from the bar along with the board of the brothel the Pearl House, with his legs flailing and kicking.
Andrew tied the rope to a big stone nearby and walked away from the Mad Dragon, not even turning to the chokings and gaspings of Viserys Targaryen, leaving him alone with his chokes and gasps.
Author's Notes: How about some good old sweet revenge? Things are going to go faster from here.