A/N: Hey, here's the next chapter. No notes, so just go ahead and get to reading. Many thanks to my beta reader (and sister) GrowlingPeanut. Reviews are appreciated.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Softworks and George R. R. Martin. Except Lanius but he's not really in this one, and Bruscius, who's new. Yay for Romanesque Imperial names.
Rating: T for violence/death/weird stuff
"How does it feel to know that everyone you love is dead?"
Though he could hear her voice, he couldn't see her. All he could see was blood; it was as if his eyes were stained with it. Everywhere he looked there were bloody corpses, ripped to shreds and strewn about with a carelessness that made him shudder.
"How does it feel to know that you're the only one left?"
Their lifeless eyes stared at him, bulging grotesquely from their sockets. He saw the eyes of his mother, of Hot Pie, of Lanius, of Vilkas and Legate Rikke. Even General Lannister lay dead at his feet, his once proud face a mess of slick blood and torn flesh.
"You'll die too, Gendry Waters. I promise that."
As he watched, the cold eyes of the dead shifted their hue, and they began to move, the collective grey gaze of the corpses fixed upon him.
"You'll die like the coward you are," they chanted, bloodless lips moving in perfect unison. A swarm of writhing maggots fell from the empty eye socket of the whore from Falkreath and Gendry had to fight the urge to retch.
"You'll die for what you did to him."
Their hands were cold on his skin, but when he tried to run, his feet stuck to the ground, their thick blood keeping him in his place.
"You'll die."
A warm puff of breath tickled the back of his neck, and he felt a rush of heat flow over him, banishing the dead from around him. As they succumbed to death once more, she appeared, brown fur stained a deep crimson, black blood dripping from her fangs. Her teeth bared in a grin and he could see the satisfaction in her slate grey eyes.
"Soon, Gendry Waters. Soon."
"Gendry. Gendry! Damn it, wake up!"
He woke at the feel of a hand on his shoulder and jerked up, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and his eyes wild. Hot Pie raised an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting on his appearance before speaking again.
"We've been called out to the yard."
Gendry shook his head in an attempt to erase the lingering images of his nightmare from his mind and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "What?"
"We, the Imperial Legion, have been called out to the yard, the big open area where we've been doing all of our training, you big dolt."
He leveled an unamused glare in his friend's direction before sighing and swinging his legs out over the side of the bed. "Why though?"
At that, Hot Pie shrugged. "Don't know. Legate Rikke came in here a few minutes ago and told us to get our asses there. General Lannister has something to say."
Gendry looked around the packed barracks, and sure enough, the whole of his regiment was rising and donning their armor with audible grumbling. A few of them cast glances his way, and he briefly wondered if he had woken any during the course of his dream.
"That means you too then, doesn't it?" he grouched, lifting his armor from the chest at the foot of his bed and buckling it on with fumbling fingers.
Hot Pie eyed him for a moment longer before nodding. "Yeah. Of course. My apologies, Auxiliary."
Gendry felt a pang of hurt at the use of his new title, but suppressed it quickly as he tugged on his boots. If anything, it was his own fault that he was pushing his friend away. He was his commander now before anything else, even if a friend was what he needed most. If they were to win this war, it was an important distinction to make.
As he buckled his swordbelt around his waist, he noticed that most of his men had finishing donning their own armor and he cleared his throat to get their attention.
"We'll leave as a unit," he commanded, moving to the door. Somewhere behind him, he heard a barely audible snort, followed by a murmur of dissent. Without turning, he opened the door and snapped in reply. "If you're determined to speak about me when my back is turned, at least have the decency to refer to me as Auxiliary."
No one spoke after that, and he was pleased to see that they followed without complaint as he led them to the training yard. He may not be making any friends, but he knew that the general would notice his commanding ability. That was what mattered. It had to be what mattered.
Most of the other Imperial regiments still in Solitude were gathered when they arrived, Rikke's among them. General Lannister stood above them on the battlements, the Legate standing stone-faced at his side.
Two more units trickled out from the barracks as they waited, and once everyone was standing at attention in the yard, Tywin Lannister began to speak.
"We received a letter this morning from the Jarl of Whiterun. As I am sure many of you know, Whiterun was the last of the holds to decline picking a side in this war. In the end, it seems that Balgruuf came to his senses. He has declared his support for the empire, and in return, has asked for a full three regiments to protect his walls. He seems to believe that Ulfric will march on Whiterun within the moon, and he intends to be prepared for his attack."
A murmur traveled through the soldiers gathered below, and then ceased as the general raised a hand. He looked across them to make sure their attention had returned before continuing.
"Legate Rikke will lead the first, and has suggested that the captains here among us be given the chance to offer their regiments in support. Do any wish to speak?"
A heavy silence fell over the crowd, and after a few minutes of tension, one of the captains stepped forward. "I wish to offer my regiment, my lord."
Lannister eyed him for a moment before nodding. "Make your case."
The soldier nodded curtly and cleared his throat. "I was recently promoted to the rank of Praefect following the capture of Fort Dunstad. My men have experience against the rebels, and my cousin is the daughter of Balgruuf's steward. The Jarl knows of my family's loyalty, and will likely see my regiment's support as a gesture of loyalty between you."
For a moment, it almost looked as if Lannister meant to smile, but any hint of approval faded swiftly as he nodded again. "Very well. Legate Rikke and Praefect..."
"Bruscius, my lord."
"...Rikke and Praefect Bruscius will be offering their support to Whiterun. Does any other captain wish to accompany them?"
Another silence fell, and as it stretched on, Gendry felt an unpleasant prickle at the back of his neck. Turning discreetly, he glanced over his shoulder and found Hot Pie's gaze boring into him. Their eyes met, and the Nord nodded slightly, a small smile on his face. Perhaps he was still a friend after all. Returning the nod, Gendry turned back and took a deep breath before stepping forward.
"I do, my lord."
The general's gaze fell to the young Imperial and he raised an eyebrow. "You?"
Bristling slightly, Gendry nodded. "Aye. Me. As you know, my regiment was instrumental in the retrieval of the Jagged Crown. As such, we have learned to work alongside the Legate's men. I believe that qualifies us for the honor of defending Whiterun."
Tywin's gaze was unwavering, and he held it for a long moment. Finally, he nodded.
"Then it has been decided. Rikke, Bruscius, Waters, meet me in the war room. The rest of you are dismissed."
The worn map that stretched across the massive table in the center of the war room was a bit disheartening. The number of blue flags pinned to it far outnumbered the red ones, and even though Gendry knew that many of them were simply forts and encampments that changed hands easily in the course of the war, it made it seem as though they were losing the war, badly.
The sound of the general's boots in the hall broke the three soldiers from their respective thoughts and they straightened at his entrance, heels clicking sharply together as their fists traveled instinctively to rest against their lower backs.
"At ease," he said impatiently as he moved to the head of the table. His expression was dark, and the soldiers waited in an uneasy silence for him to speak again. Finally, he did, after a heavy sigh.
"You can all see this for yourself. Even with the capture of Fort Dunstad and Whiterun's support, Ulfric controls much of this land. It seems as though his army may have become more than just rebels, something we were not prepared for. If Ulfric does mean to attack Whiterun, we must assume that his soldiers are as well trained as ours, and his weapons and armor just as strong."
"Do you think he will lead the attack himself?" Rikke asked, her gaze worried.
Tywin Lannister was silent for a moment before shaking his head. "No. Ulfric's only concern is the throne of the High King. He won't risk his own life for Whiterun. As pivotal as this battle is sure to be, it remains nothing more than an act of posturing. He wishes us to know the power of his army, and so it's his army that he will send."
"It will be Robb Stark that leads the charge then, no?" Gendry replied, his arms crossed over his chest. He remembered the ferocity with which the Young Wolf had fought their men in Korvanjund and shuddered involuntarily.
The motion did not go unnoticed, and the general cast him a brief glance. "Afraid of Stark turning into one of those fairy tale beasts you're always going on about and eating you during the battle, boy?"
Gendry made to retort, but the look in Lannister's eyes stopped him. Though the words he spoke were mocking, there was no amusement in his gaze, only determination, and behind that, exhaustion. Instead, he simply shook his head.
"I simply wish to be prepared, my lord."
The general nodded at that and let out a sigh. "Good. Perhaps you're learning after all. And yes, it's likely that Ulfric will send Stark at the head of his army. The boy may still be young, but he has a mind for war, and he's proven himself in battle time and again. Rikke, I will leave him to you."
The legate nodded her acceptance at the command, but Gendry thought he saw a hint of regret in her eyes. He remembered with a sense of pity that she had once fought with Eddard Stark in the Great War. It was likely that she had known Robb when he was no more than a boy, and now, she was tasked with ending his life.
"What would you have us do, my lord?" Bruscius broke his silence, his large hands balled into fists on the tabletop.
Lannister considered his answer for a moment before replying. "Leave for Whiterun before sunset if your men are ready. If not, leave no later than sunrise on the morrow. When you get there, Rikke will speak with the Jarl and learn what she can of Whiterun's defenses. Praefect, you will deal with the city's two clans. The Battle-Borns will be willing to fight for us, I'm sure, but you must watch the Grey-Manes. They make their support for Ulfric no secret, and will likely act upon it if we aren't careful."
Bruscius nodded. "Yes, my lord."
"As for you, Auxiliary," the general continued. "You and your men will organize the city guards. Ensure that they are all loyal, assign those who are where you think they will be of the most assistance, and take care of those who are not."
Gendry's stomach twisted at the thought of having to "take care of" any of the guards in front of his men, but he nodded nonetheless. "Yes, General."
Lannister seemed satisfied with the captains under his command, and he looked down to the map before them before impatiently waving them off. "Go on then. There's much to be done."
As they set out under the cover of darkness, Gendry looked to the moons. Masser was full and round in the sky, its light bathing the earth in a ruddy glow, while Secunda remained a few nights from its peak. They would both be full by the time that Ulfric's troops arrived at Whiterun, and the thought made his blood run cold.
"Soon..."
In an attempt to draw the least amount of attention, the three regiments had left separately, and Gendry's had been the last to go. With only a dozen men, it was easy to move quickly along the roads, and they did so in near silence. The occasional murmur rose every once in a while, but for the most part, they walked quietly, the gravity of the approaching battle weighing heavily on their minds.
They were nearly to Rorikstead when Gendry heard the sound of boots out of step and he turned to see Hot Pie approaching the front of the group. Unwilling to command him to return to his position, Gendry let him continue, and the young baker smiled slightly through his heavy breathing when he reached his side.
"I'm glad you chose to do this."
Gendry grunted noncommittally. "Aye? Why did you want me to?"
Hot Pie considered it for a moment before shrugging. "Because I know that the general hasn't been all that kind to you, and I thought that this might make him realize what a good soldier you are. And because if anyone's going to lead this army to victory, it's going to be you."
At that, Gendry turned. "Do you truly believe that?"
Without hesitation, Hot Pie nodded. "I do. Lannister may be a good commander, but he doesn't care for people, and Rikke's too close to this land to be truly objective. You're different though. You believe in the Empire, but not at the cost of the Nords, and you can bark orders at us all you want, but at the end of the day, I know that you're my friend and that if I ever need you, you'll be at my side. You can't say that about many people."
His friend's innocent compliment made him suddenly and urgently ache for an end to the war, and he gave Hot Pie a tired smile. "I hope you're right."
Nodding a bit awkwardly, Hot Pie dropped back to his position in the regiment and Gendry sighed heavily as the first glimpse of Whiterun's walls appeared on the horizon. Gods, I hope he's right.