DISCLAIMER: I own nothing
A/N: As always, thank you Ramzes for the brilliant reviews!
DUNK
"They say the Princess of Dorne has lost a son."
Dunk frowned at that and took a sip of the wine Aegon had just handed him. "The poor woman, so soon after her last boy died."
The king poured himself a glass and looked away for a moment, caught in a distant memory. Finally he turned back to the huge knight with a slight frown. "The gods give us children and they take them away as they see fit."
"Aye," said Dunk as he absently picked up a lemoncake from his king's plate and swallowing it in two bites. "I've never been a man to try and understand the gods, but I still like to think things happen for a reason, even something as horrible as the death of a child….or good-daughter."
Egg gave the big knight a searching look then, an expression that Dunk had not seen on the man since he was just a boy all those years ago. "Do you think everything will be….alright? For the family, I mean."
Dunk considered for a while. Ever since his name day the Blackfyres had been slowing tearing his family apart, just as they were trying to do to the realm. Just as they had always done, all the way back since Aegon the Unworthy had decided to stray from his wife and allow his children to turn against one another. It was maddening to think that all of the death and destruction had been born from one brother's jealousy of another.
"I think…that your children are fierce, and good, and gentle. They'll not let this destroy them and neither will you," Dunk smirked a little. "Your grandmother was Dornish after all….Unbent, Unbowed, Unbroken."
The faintest of smiles crossed Aegon's face then, to which Dunk could only smile in return and a peaceful silence set in for a time before Dunk finally remembered why had arrived at the king's chambers in the first place. "When do we march?"
"In a week's time, though I fear not all of the Wardens will arrive on time. Lord Stark has to travel quite a long way south and Edric had told me that the seas around Storm's End are living up to their name meaning that travel will be slow for his men as well." the king's mouth went into a straight, thin line. "So far I have the Lannisters fortifying positions along the south and western coast with the Tyrell's already marching towards them as we speak, though, again that will take some time before we can have a full force ready to move on the Step Stones….the Lannisters are on their own for now."
TION
They awoke to the smoke of Crakehall burning.
As a Lannister of Lannisport the duty of leading men to patrol the coast had fallen to Tion, though his arm was still extremely stiff and sore. His squire needed to assist him in adorning his golden plate armour and by the time he was astride his horse and fully suited up he'd wanted to drink half a keg of milk of the poppy.
He could see the smoke pillowing from the coast, shrouding the sky in the thick greys and blacks over the nearby forest. The Tyroshi pirates would be marching through that forest if left to their own devices and from there they would only have to follow the flat coastlands to get straight to Lannisport, Lannisport that had only just started to pick itself up after the last attack. The pirates would come at his kin with axes and spears and curved swords in their hands and their red snakes and black dragons on their shields.
Tion looked around him and saw the faces of green boys and old men, others like Tion himself were still recovering from wounds taken in the last battle. All in all there were three hundred men in his small encampment and they were the only thing standing between Lannisport and complete destruction. Mother have mercy, Smith give me strength. I think I might die today…
None of them needed to be told twice about what they were headed into and began the short march with hearts of fire. As they marched closer the fires grew more intense and smoke shot up into the air like a tear in the sky. Some of the stragglers from the surrounding villages were hurrying their way towards the modest castle of Crakehall. From what Tion could see, the pirates had not yet reached the actual fortress itself and instead took their time slaughtering as many peasants as they could get their hands on. Out of the corner of his eye Tion could see old men and women, cripples and small children hurrying forward as best they could to get away from the creeping death, the looks of terror filled his heart with something ugly.
He turned to the young men marching beside him and ordered for them to drum. Slowly but surely the drummers began to beat out a tune, loud and powerful that echoed through the skies. Tion knew that his men wouldn't need the rhythm of the drums to march but he wanted the pirates to know he was coming. Hear me roar!
Soon their noise attracted the attention of the castle and riders were sent out to greet them. "You are a sight for sore eyes my lord, we had thought the crown had abandoned us," said the elder of the two riders, "They've not yet reached us but the castle is only held by a skeleton crew."
Tion frowned slightly at that. "How many men?" he needed to know what he was working with.
"Some one hundred and fifty my lord, we would have had more if not for the men sent to lord Tytos."
It will have to do, Tion thought bitterly. He knew that he had a snowflakes chance in hell to meet the angry horde on the field. To the west of Crakehall was the sea, to the south a few meagre villages and to the east a great forest that would be too thick to fight amongst. Their only chance was to hold out in the castle until help arrived, but the gods only knew when that would be.
Crakehall itself was not an overly large castle, though it made a fine fortress in the few wars of the past that had engulfed the Westerlands and had enough of a natural defence that it would not be easily overrun. As soon as they arrived he went about ordering his men to man the battlements and set up archers and crossbowmen.
Lord Crakehall was in the main courtyard waiting for him, the old man's once curly red hair was now mostly a grey ringlet and he walked with a pronounced limp, yet his voice was firm. "Ser Tion, you are a most welcome sight in this late hour, what word from Casterly Rock?"
"None," he said bluntly. "We sent off dozens of birds when we saw the attack but have heard nothing so far. It's just us and the pirates."
Lord Crakehall looked stricken and rubbed at his chin in worry. "They…they'll have to arrive at some point won't they? I mean with all of these ravens being sent surely one of them will have reached the king or lord Tytos."
"King Aegon is not the sort of man to leave his men alone in a time of need, and Lord Tytos is no coward, no matter how much the Reynes and Tarbecks like to say otherwise," said Tion. "But that will take time my lord and for now it's up to us to hold them off."
Crakehall nodded weakly, took a breath, and began shouting commands at the servants and men at arms to help set up the barricades and to bring the men food and water. He sounds like a lord, Tion thought. His father had once told him that in battle a commander's lungs were as important as his sword arm. My sword arm may not be as strong as it used to be, but I still have a voice.
The entire castle was a beehive of activity, with soldiers desperately working to strengthen all of the castle's potential weak spots. Women and children had been put to work as well. Those too young to fight would carry water and tend fires while the women would be set to aid the sick and wounded with the Maester in the great hall.
He overheard a child sniffling to his mother as he walked past. "Mama, Lord Crakehall sent ravens to the king didn't he? Tom says King Aegon is a dragon."
"Yes sweetling, the king will be here soon and make the bad men go away."
Tion didn't have the heart to correct them. Unlike his sigil, king Aegon did not have wings and if he was coming, it would not be today.
The hours came and went and the sunset sea soon lived up to its name, with the dying purple light of the sun glimmering along the sea waves. Tion would have thought it beautiful if not for the fact that it was that very sea from whence the pirates were emerging.
They came at dusk, horns blowing and howls filling the air. It was hard to see them in the dim light but Tion could already tell that they numbered more than twice as many his own men. One of the men cried out that there were Pirates coming from the west as well. West, thought Tion in confusion. But then he saw them; dozens and dozens of ships sailing towards the castle, all of them flying the banner of the black dragon. Mother have mercy…
Tion saw that some of the squires standing with him had pissed themselves, but he pretended not to notice. His own squire looked ghastly white as the howls grew closer; the fear was upon everyone so the Lannister moved high above the battlements so that they could all see him. "MEN!" he cried, his throat growing raw. "You men are lions! Do you heat me? LIONS!" Tion unsheathed his sword and pointed out into the darkness. "Those cowards out there are nothing but ants to us! We will hold this castle and if any are foolish enough to try and take it then we shall show them how sharp our claws really are!"
The men all gave a cheer in response and braced themselves for what was to come. Tion took out a bow and pulled back an arrow, and aimed at the shadow figures approaching. To his left and right men were doing the same. "Conserve your arrows, wait till you've got a clean shot." He told his squire who took a breath and kept his hands steady.
He spotted a small collection of shadows break off from the large group, carrying something long between them. A ladder, Tion realised. As soon as they made it within fifty yards he released his arrow and without looking to see his target he pulled another in its place and released that as well, and then a third until finally he saw the shadowy figures topple over and drop the ladder in the mud.
Several more pirate raiders rushed then, firing arrows of their own. Tion felt one wiz past his head and quickly ducked behind merlons as another dozen flaming arrows rained over them, hitting a man to his right. Tion didn't waste time mourning the man and bobbed his head up and pulled an arrow back to his ear, aimed, and loosed the arrow, then nocked and drew and loosed again. His first shaft hit one man deep in his belly, the second one hitting another in the throat. The pirate screamed as he went down.
When his quiver was empty he went to get another, careful to keep his head down. He could hear the pirates shouting to each other, and howls of rage went through the air.
His fingers were growing stiff and his thumb was bleeding, but still Tion notched and drew and loosed. Suddenly he heard screaming coming from the western gate and quickly ran along to see what was going on. The sentries he posted on the western gate were being pinned down by dozens and dozens of flaming arrows and from the corner of his eye Tion caught sight of men with torches pounding up to the gate, a battering ram in their arms.
"There!" shouted Tion to the few archers that remained before loosing an arrow at the screaming horde.
They wore halfhelms, and had some form of green and purple sashes worn over their black and red leather shirts. Many wielded swords of Braavosi make while others used the curved Dothraki swords. Tion's squire quickly ran to his side and began unleashing arrow after arrow at the targets, hitting their shields or at the wooden ram in their arms. Not lethal blows, but enough to make them hesitate, Tion thought as he shot another arrow.
Soon the rest of the sentries began to focus their attacks on the few pirates carrying the battering ram. The pirates were screaming in some bastard dialect of High Valyrian as they urged the ram into the Crakehall's western gate, damaging the wooden structure even as crossbow bolts and arrows rained down upon them.
Tion continued with his repetitious act of slaughter until both his arms were stiff and his hands agony. For every blow the pirates landed Tion and his archers killed at least three men, until finally there was no one left to carry the great wooden weapon.
He was just about to shout in triumph when he spotted a ladder sitting propped up against the wall and dashed towards it. Tion had little time to shout for his men so instead he dropped his bow and ripped his sword from its sheath, and buried the blade in the face of the first man to reach the top of the ladder. The blade cut straight though the pirate's skull and he went crashing down, tumbling on the many men trying to climb up after him.
Despite kicking one ladder away at least two more had sprung up a few yards from where Tion was standing as his men struggled to hold back the rogues as they now swarmed freely atop the ramparts, cutting down men left and right with wanton glee. Tion nocked an arrow, drew, and loosed, and was pleased to see it strike a Tyroshi straight through the eye.
The fires had grown out of control now and were spreading into the main courtyard and catching fire on the hay of the stables as many of the women and children raced to put it out with meagre buckets of water. The fighting continued along the battlements and Tion threw down his nearly empty quiver and charged forward with his blade, cutting down as many as he could and kicking back the ladders to stop any further men from clambering up.
They had just begun to push the pirates back when something knocked the wind from Tion's chest. He looked down to see an arrow jutting out from his side, wedged between his plate and oozing up crimson over his golden armour. M family colours, he thought absently before toppling over.
"Ser, hold on I'll-"
His squire was silenced by a single bolt sticking from between his eyes. He blinked once and then toppledforward headlong over the parapet. Tion closed his eyes and said a silent prayer before a wave of agony washed over him and he felt the blood begin to seep through his armour and pool around him.
This is how I die, he thought as he looked around at the carnage going on about him. I'm so far from home, I'm sorry father…I tried.
Sharp as a swordthrust, the sound of a horn filled the air.
It was a terrible sound, a wail of pain and fury. On and on the sound went, echoing amongst the rolling hills of the Westerlands behind them and across from the Sun set seas before them, on and on until it filled the entire night air. For a moment Tion was convinced the Seven above had come to pass judgement on him when suddenly the horn stopped and he began to hear other sounds, screaming and hollering, sounds that were foreign to ears, sounds of triumph.
Using all of his strength the Lannister pulled himself up and peaked over the battlements. Below him the Tyroshi pirates were being slaughtered as a mass of screaming men cut into them from the left flank. The pirates screamed and desperately tried to chase them back only to be overwhelmed by savagery and numbers of their enemy.
More and more men were pouring off the beaches and running with a mad joy at the Tyroshi and as the fires spread across the burnt out fields Tion caught sight of a blaze of banners flying above the men. The wind was whipping them too much for Tion to see sigils but he caught sight of gold and black, and silent promised the mother that he would shower Edric Baratheon in kisses if he lived through the night.
But then he saw one of the Tyroshi ships begin to catch fire, its orange glow illuminating a larger battle at sea. The Redwyne fleet? Thought the Lannister as he struggled to lift himself and get a better view. How did they get here so fast?
The warriors began chanting together in one voice from below him and Tion's eyes widened in horror as he realised what the men were saying.
"WHAT IS DEAD MAY NEVER DIE!"