Chapter Thirty: Obsydian

A/N: I did try with this chapter. I feel it's not as good as my usual standard but I found it very difficult to write. Nonetheless, I do hope you'll enjoy it. Next chapter will be the last, it's a scary thing for me to say because I've been writing this story for so long. I want to make it perfect so it may take a little longer, but I guarantee you will have it by Christmas time - which is when, 3 years ago, I started this story :)

The thing Robb hated the most about battles was all the planning that came before. The impatient boy in him just wanted to take King's Landing immediately, but he was fully aware that the sensible thing to do was to listen to his advisors and formulate a proper strategy. Without one, they were doomed to fail. Robb kept his mind off his impatience by thinking of something other than war entirely – Mella and Willem.

It was a strange thought to him, that he had a son, that he was a father. He loved the child dearly, but it was still something he was coming to terms with. Mella was a natural mother, loving and nurturing. She had clearly inherited that from Cersei – despite all her flaws, the Lannister woman cared deeply about her children. The same could obviously be said of Mella.

"So we aim to attack the guard outposts," Robb remarked, to draw himself out of his reverie and prove that he had been paying attention. He kept catching snippets of the conversation, but in the skies, Daenerys was already attempting to lay waste to King's Landing. They would not last long from a combined attack – but it was Daenerys that Robb was concerned about. She was very clearly not on their side, and she was the one with a fire-breathing dragon. One that would be difficult to kill.

Before anyone could agree or disagree with him, the sounds of screams reached Robb's ears, followed by a loud thud that shook the very earth. His eyes widening, he pushed himself to his feet, hand on the hilt of his sword as he hurried out from the command tent. He didn't quite know what he had expected to see, but a massive creature the colour of snow wasn't it. He had seen the beast, with Mella. An ice dragon. But why was it free, and why was it so far from the Eyrie?

The ice dragon examined the soldiers with boredom. It made no attempt to strike them down as they fled it, and Robb could not help the massive grin that lit up his face. He understood now. The dragon was here for him, the person who could touch it without being harmed. Tentatively, he moved towards the creature, despite the cries of his men warning him otherwise. Its scale glistened in the sun like glass. Dragonglass…obsydian. He would call it Obsydian.

Robb reached out with a hesitant hand and laid it on the creature's scales. Obsydian closed his eyes lazily, and Robb glanced behind him. Although tense, his men appeared to have calmed down a little after the initial shock of seeing a creature of legend land from the sky. One of them was even bold enough to take a few steps closer to Robb.

"What is that, your Grace? Surely not the Targaryen girl's dragon?"

"No." Robb lifted his chin and offered him a smile. "This one's mine."

Daenerys revelled in the feeling of the wind caressing her hair as she flew over King's Landing, laying waste to the city. Vengeance burned fiercely in her heart. She had already lost two of her dragons, she would not lose Rhaegal. She would burn this city and the cowering Lannisters to the ground. She smiled at the thought. The people of Westeros would thank her, for liberating them from such tyrants. Cersei cared nothing for the people, and her children were bastards who should never have been allowed to inherit the throne.

A roar shook her from her reverie, making her look up from Rhaegal's glittering scales and the madness occurring wherever her dragon's fire touched. Her eyes widened, for the sight before her was surely not possible. Another dragon was flying towards her at full speed, but it was…different. Far larger than Rhaegal, and with scales the colour of winter's snow. Daenerys pressed her lips together in a firm line as she saw the dark-haired figure on the dragon's back. Robb Stark.

"What is this sorcery?" she demanded, raising her voice to be heard above the window. "My dragons are the last ones in existence. Is this some kind of trick?"

"No trick," Robb called back, "Obsydian breathes ice, not fire."

As if understanding Robb's words, the dragon opened its maw and unleashed a biting current of frost at Rhaegal. Daenerys's heart thudded in her chest as Rhaegal twisted to avoid it. She could feel the rush of the cold, and knew that Robb was telling the truth. She had read tales of such creatures, but they had been thought extinct even before fire-breathing dragons. How had Stark managed to find such a beast?

"You could stop this battle, you know." Robb looked almost sorrowful as he examined her. "You could have King's Landing and the south. Mella and I would have the North."

It was a tempting prospect. But Daenerys knew that Mella would be furious and never agree to such terms, even if her husband had proposed them. She also knew that the entirety of Westeros was her right by birth, including the frozen wasteland Robb called home. If she agreed now, it would not end well for her in any case. Sooner or later, rebellion would always rise up. It was best to end this now while she still had the chance to.

Down in the city below, Robb's troops had made their first assault. If they failed to take King's Landing, Daenerys would triumph due to the simple fact that her men already held several sections of the city. Yet this battle up here, in the air high above the Red Keep, was also a vital one. For if either she or Robb were to die, the battle fought on the ground would all be for nothing.

Rhaegal surged forward with a burst of fire that made Obsydian jerk back. For a few moments the two dragons traded ice for fire, cold for heat. Robb and Daenerys at times had to flinch away to avoid being harmed. Then the smaller dragon wheeled forth and snapped at Obsydian's wings.

The ice dragon screamed, and the noise caused Robb to grimace and turn his face as if the sound physically pained him. Blood painted the dragon's pale scales crimson, and Rhaegal let out a victorious bellow as the larger dragon struggled to throw him off. Tossing around wildly, causing Robb to hold on for dear life, Obsydian spun around and breathed ice across Rhaegal's eyes and wings, blinding the smaller beast.

Rhaegal screeched and flailed, but the damage was already done…to both dragons. Robb swallowed hard as Obsydian made an unsteady descent. Rhaegal thudded to the earth with a small boom, although Daenerys managed to clamber off his back unharmed. Robb narrowly missed a talon to the face as he launched himself off Obsydian's back, and the two dragons fought on the ground.

Robb turned to look for his army, but they were nowhere in sight. Although several Stark soldiers appeared to have made it through, the vast majority of his army were simply not there. His heart thudded in his chest and he closed his eyes in defeat, his ears ringing with clashing steel and screeching beasts. When he opened them, Daenerys stood before him with triumph burning in her violet eyes and her soldiers behind her.

"You have lost, Stark," she declared.

A horrible shriek caused Robb to whirl around to the dragons, where Rhaegal had collapsed in a motionless heap. With a wordless cry of anguish, Daenerys ran towards her fallen dragon…the last of the three that had hatched for her. Robb licked his dry lips and turned his gaze upon Obsydian. With horror, he realised the dragon's scales were more red than white now. If he touched them, would it be Rhaegal's hot blood, or Obsydian's icy blood? He swallowed and forced tears back as they welled in his eyes.

"Your Grace." Lord Umber appeared at Robb's side, resting a hand on his shoulder. By the grim expression on his face, the news could not be good. Robb tore his gaze from Obsydian's final moments, from Daenerys weeping over Rhaegal's dead body. "It's over, my King. Our men couldn't get inside the walls, they were driven back. We've lost."

Robb raked a hand through his curls. But we are within the walls of the city, doomed now to die.

As Robb and the other prisoners stood before Daenerys, he had to commend Tommen on his courage. The Targaryen girl had first had Jaime executed, for the murder of her father Aerys. It had been a quick, precise act. One of her men had served as the executioner and it had been a clean blow to the head. Tommen had flinched, but he had not once looked away. He reminded Robb of Mella in that moment.

Cersei had been next. While Jaime had taken his sentence in grave silence, Cersei spat curses and vile words at the men who held her, at Daenerys. Once she had realised the futility of her actions, Cersei turned her gaze on her son, the look becoming tender as she offered her son a sad smile.

"Don't watch, sweetling."

Tommen had screwed his eyes shut at the last moment before they slit Cersei's throat. Daenerys had gestured rather boredly for her and Jaime's bodies to be removed from the throne room, but her eyes were glittering. Robb knew that this was what she had wanted: vengeance for crimes committed against her family before she'd even been born. It was only when Daenerys turned her attention back to Tommen with no mercy in her gaze that Robb saw fit to comment.

"Not him."

"Pardon?" Daenerys's eyes narrowed as she looked at Robb. He had been pushed to his knees like the others, but now he clambered to his feet. "I don't think you understand that you have no power here, Lord Stark. Tommen Lannister's life is not in your hands."

"He can make amends for the sins of the past," Robb insisted, as Tommen's frightened gaze darted between them both. "His family have committed many atrocities, but he is just a boy. He can atone for what's happened."

"No." Daenerys's smile was bitter, and she shook her head. "They tried to wipe out my family, surely you understand that. I am only returning the favour."

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed Robb by the shoulder, roughly forcing him back onto his eyes. Tommen stepped back as more Targaryen men converged on him, but then a voice rang through the room and everyone halted.

"Stop!"

Robb glanced over his shoulder, and a chill ran down his spine for it was just like his dream. Mella marched into the room, armour-clad and proud. She had a throwing knife in each hand and blood smeared across her face. Her eyes were wild as she set her gaze on Tommen, and then on Robb.

"Duck."

Her teeth were bared in some sort of savage snarl and Robb ducked as she hurled the knife. He didn't have to question for a moment where she was aiming, and when he looked up, Daenerys was choking up blood as she pulled the small knife from her throat. Mella smiled grimly as her men filed into the room and the Targaryen girl collapsed, her blood staining the dais as her father's had many years before.

"You killed her," Tommen said, his brow furrowing into a frown as he inspected his older sister. Robb couldn't fault him that – he too was shocked to see Mella in King's Landing. It seemed she had brought the forces of the Eyrie along with her. Mella raked her black hair back from her face, examining her younger brother.

"It's true in some ways, she would have made a good queen." Mella looked almost sadly at Daenerys's corpse, violet eyes still wide with surprise. "She has compassion for the less fortunate, but…she does not forgive. She cannot let go of past wrongdoings, some of which occurred even before she was born. Her ruthlessness and lack of mercy is why she would not have made a good queen. In many ways, she was more like Aerys than she liked to think."