A short and sweet intro this chapter, though next time I fully expect to be talking about another House of the Dragon trailer which I hope is out tomorrow.
I own nothing but the OC's. All characters and locations from the books or the show belong to George R R Martin or HBO.
It was an eery silence that filled the tunnels of King's Landing as Jon Connington led his men towards the ladder by the dead end. Undecided, the Stormlander was considering all options in his mind as he stared up at the bulkhead that would lead them into the lower levels of the Barbican.
"We need to do this." A young voice sounded in a harsh whisper, and Jon turned around to see his young kinsman Raymund. "They're depending on us to open the gates."
"I know." Jon bit back angrily. "But we don't know what awaits us up there." Raymund rolled his eyes and made a step towards the ladder, but Jon quickly gripped the young squire's shoulder. "No." He said firmly. "I will go." He took a few steps forwards and began to climb up the ladder, until he got to the top and withdrew Truth. He opened the bulkhead slowly, peering through the gap and sighing in relief as it was an empty room. Minutes later, and the majority of his men had risen up the ladder and were gathered. "We move quickly and quietly. Raise the portcullis and then move outside for the gates." He ordered, and waited as they all withdrew their weapons as quietly as possible. This time Jon wasn't the first through the door, but he was close to the front as they moved silently through the large gatehouse.
Thankfully, with everybody focused on the actual assault the majority of the floors were completely empty and though it was slow, the group made their way up to the top floor with relative ease. One guard was at the top of the stairs, though Ser Rolly was quick to rush him and slit his throat, catching the man as he fell and pulling him to the floor slowly and silently. The Kingsguard knight took a quick look through the corridor and held up 4 fingers with his gauntlet.
Jon simply nodded, and with a grin Rolly charged. The rest of his Stormlanders followed and the sound of swords and the dying was quick to follow. Jon pushed into the corridor as more Lannister guards came to investigate the noise, and he made sure to parry an oncoming blow with Truth, pushing the sword to the left and swinging back around to sever the man's head. Walking onwards, he noticed the door to the portcullis winch was being jammed shut. "Get this open!" He cried, though as soon as he had finished his command the most harrowing sound in the world filled his ears.
The bells. The blasted bells. Jon immediately felt his heart race twice as fast as it should as he stumbled backwards, stepping on a dead Lannister's arm and almost falling over had somebody not caught him. He could no longer see the men around him trying to batter down the door to the winch, he could only see the body of young Denys Arryn laying before him, he could see the Usurper charging towards him, sword in hand and almost killed him on the steps of the famed Sept.
The next thing Jon knew was a clash of swords. He blinked twice and realised that he was on the ground with no weapon, and in front of him stood Raymund Connington, his back to Jon as the young man fought with Truth. Trying to slow his breathing, Jon rose up to his feet grabbing another sword and re-joining the fight. The door had been broken down, but the Lannisters had immediately started streaming out to try and put the Stormlanders on the defensive. Regaining his wits, Jon hacked at one Lannister man and thrust his sword into the chest of another before he looked for Raymund again.
He needn't have worried, for with Valyrian Steel in his hand his cousin's son had slain a larger Lannister looking warrior, a lengthy beard growing on the dead man's chin. That seemed to be the sign of their victory, as once the Lannister fell the soldiers in red began to falter. Breathing in relief, Jon tried to take control again. "The portcullis! Raise it!" He ordered, though his voice felt shaky.
"Where did you go?" Raymund snapped as the pair of Connington's let the rest of the men fly past them into the larger chamber. "You were almost skewered by a Lannister without putting up a defence!"
Jon had no words, the bell was ringing so loudly he felt his head would explode. He took a step, stumbling as if he was back on the rooftops in the Riverlands. "Where is the bell tower?" He snarled. Rolly could raise the portcullis and organise the assault inside the Red Keep, he had a different enemy to slay.
Whilst the fighting was raging above the ground and the bells of the Red Keep sung their songs, beneath it there was an urgent sense of hushed silence. Tyrion Lannister was leading a rather unlikely group of people through the tunnels after meeting Varys and getting a rough idea on where to go to get to certain spaces within the castle. Then he sprung his plan into action by getting Podrick to distract Cersei. He looked behind him briefly to look at them all. His trusted squire was there, urging the young Prince Tommen to keep going and to stop crying. Myrcella was the calmest of the young ones, although her protector Ser Arys Oakheart had been the hardest of the group to convince, but when the Kingsguard knight was told of the city being breached the Reachman followed the dwarf to continue his duty of protecting the Prince and Princess. Finally, Tyrion smiled as he saw his dear Shae fussing over the Stark girl. That hadn't been part of the plan, but Tyrion needed Shae with him, and a Stark hostage wouldn't hurt when it came to negotiations.
With whom he would negotiate with, he wasn't sure. With any luck the Targaryen boy would be struck down and his army held back, and although his family would detest him more as a deserter and a traitor, he could always go to Riverrun and hand over Sansa Stark before making his way to Essos. If the Targaryen won however, then he was already trying to think of what he could say to grovel.
"How much further?" Myrcella asked.
"Not long." Tyrion tried to convince her, but as they took another turn into a long corridor even he groaned. Thankfully, no more than 5 minutes later they came into a large clearing, filled with the skulls of all the dragons that had once hung up in the Throne Room.
"Look!" Tommen exclaimed, his tears being forgotten. "That's Balerion the Dread!"
He let the children go and inspect the abnormally large skull as he looked around. "Where are you Varys…" He whispered.
"Everywhere, and nowhere." A voice whispered arrogantly, and Tyrion saw a figure emerging from one of the dark corners of the room, the same leather cloak on his shoulders covering his head. "You are late. And with too many people."
Tyrion rolled his eyes. "You said it yourself, children are threatened. I'm saving who I can with as much leverage as I can gain. You're not the one openly committing treason."
"Only silently." Varys giggled.
Tyrion didn't find the joke funny. "Where next? Preferably a direction that won't get any of us burned alive."
Varys sighed. "I do appreciate the hardships you will soon face, My Lord. Believe me, for your own sake this is for the best." He then pointed through the corridor that Varys had just appeared from. "That way; when you come to a wall you turn right. There you will find a boat. Take that to Rosby, the people there hold no love for Lucerys Targaryen, and you will be safe at least until you hear of the outcome of this battle."
Tyrion doubted that, but he had thrown his glove down and now had to see this through. "If I die, I'm haunting you, eunuch."
Varys simply giggled once again. "It will not come to that, dwarf. I shall see you again."
"I hope not." Tyrion muttered, but Varys had quickly disappeared back into the shadows. Gathering himself, he took a deep breath before he called out. "Come on, we need to leave. This way, all the way down and turn right." He told Ser Arys who led the group with Tyrion waiting as everybody passed him. Shae was the last, and she held her hand out to him looking down concerned. "We will be alright." He promised her, though in his mind he knew that she realised he was only saying it to make himself believe it.
The fighting had been fierce all throughout the city, but as more of the attacking forces began to converge on the Red Keep the more concerned Luke was getting. The Lannisters had turned the path up to the Red Keep into a bottleneck and had aimed the scorpions towards the gathered forces below. All of the gathered forces had their shields facing the skies to protect themselves from incoming arrows, though the scorpions had caused havoc amongst the attackers. Luke had ordered the elephants away to protect them, though as the ram smashed against the large oak doors blocking them from the Red Keep, Luke wished he had them.
Men of the Golden Company were trying to scale ladders up to the walls to try and stop the scorpion fire, but to no avail. He personally had seen Duncan Strong split in two by one of the large bolts, while Marq Mandrake had been shoved from the tops of walls after climbing the ladders and landed headfirst. It was looking like they would end up getting stuck and losing here, but then the bells began to ring, and the Targaryen knew that Jon had managed to find a way inside the structure that stood between him and his throne. Holding Blackfyre aloft he roared. "THE GATE WILL SOON BE OPEN! PUSH FORWARDS!" He kept his already arrow battered shield above his head as he joined those battering down the gates. The decisive crunch of wood came as the first glimmer of sunlight peered over the walls they were assaulting, and very quickly afterwards the sounds of the portcullis being raised filled their ears, and the roar of victory being close spread throughout the men of the Golden Company.
Luke was among the first to charge forwards, feeling the squelch of Mark Mandrake's brains underneath his boot as he ran. Lannisters and Gold Cloaks together were running around in the main courtyard trying to form some semblance of a defence, but stream of Crownlanders, Dornishmen, Reachmen and men of the Golden Company all intent on seeing Lannisters die flew at them. It was a bloodbath, with men of all loyalties being struck down in the large area. Blackfyre ran red with blood as it slashed and hacked away at any that got in between Luke and the building that housed the Iron Throne, though his attention was taken when above the carnage and the dying screams, a single voice roared above them all.
"GREGOR CLEGANE!" Oberyn Martell roared. Luke looked over and saw the Dornishman twirling his spear around before jabbing it in a Goldcloaks eye. "YOU ARE MINE!"
Swearing, Luke stopped his movement towards the Throne Room and turned to his right. Oberyn had pointed his spear over at the largest man that Luke had ever seen, nearly 8 feet tall wielding a sword that looked almost as tall as Luke was himself in a single hand. Luke felt himself growling at the sight of the murderer and moved towards him.
"Your Grace!" He heard Barristan shout, but Luke ignored him, turning his walk into a jog, and his jog into a run as he thought on the rare occasions that he could remember where he had played with Rhaenys in the Red Keep, of Elia having shown him Aegon and let him hold the babe carefully. As he ran at the humongous murderer, he roared in anger, slashing out at Gregor Clegane with all his rage.
The parry from the huge sword almost knocked Luke down, but he regained his balance and attacked again as he hacked unceremoniously at the Mountain. Next came a spear, jabbing up at the Mountain's throat though that too got parried by the Clegane sigil shield in the Mountain's left hand. Together, Oberyn and Luke attacked the Mountain as fast as they could, though it wasn't getting them anywhere.
Then Oberyn took a blow to the face from the Mountain's shield and reeled away, sprawling. Thankfully by now the duel had been witnessed by dozens, and in came more weapons towards the singular Westerlander. Oberyn had been covered by his eldest two daughters, both hissing and the eldest, Obara, was pointing a spear at the Mountain, while to Luke's side came his Kingsguard, Lord Dick Cole, Old John Mudd and Ser Taron Edgerton. Grinning, Luke indicated to surround the large man, and so in the middle of the battle stood a circle of angry men and women, all eager to see this one man fall.
Nymeria Sand was the first to react, unleashing her whip and wrapping it around the Mountain's sword arm, yanking it to unbalance him. Lord Cole took that moment to charge, though the Mountain's strength pulled the whip back in his direction sending Nymeria flying, and the backhanded swipe from Gregor Clegane carved Lord Cole in half. Wincing, Luke watched patiently as Oberyn returned to his feet and took a step forwards.
"Elia. Martell." He snarled. "You raped her, you murdered her, you killed her children."
"Who?" Gregor growled.
"ELIA! MARTELL!" Oberyn screamed. "YOU RAPED HER! MURDERED HER! KILLED HER CHILDREN!" Obara Sand was the first to move, throwing her spear to distract the Mountain while Oberyn slid on his knees underneath the large blade, turning swiftly to return to his feet and thrusting his own spear underneath the Mountain's arms. Luke then took that as the sign to move and the other men surrounding the Clegane moved in. Old John Mudd ended up taking the first hit, the Mountain's shield caving in his skull and dropping the elderly man swiftly, but the others attacking at the same time managed to surround the Mountain, stabbing and slicing at whatever they could between his armour. They brought the man to his knees, but he was still swinging that greatsword around, and it was only a body check by Ser Taron that allowed Luke to move out the way of one of them before the Crownlander jumped in and thrust his sword between the plates in Gregor Clegane's chest. Immediately as he withdrew the blade, the largest of them, Ser Caspor, kicked the Westerlander square in the head, sending him to the ground. Ser Barristan quickly brought his sword down on Gregor's sword hand, severing the extremity.
He saw Obara Sand go in for the kill but a hand from Luke stopped her in her tracks. "This is Oberyn's." He said to everyone, and the Prince of Dorne nodded at that.
Oberyn twirled his spear again. "Admit it to me before you die." He whispered coldly. "Elia. Martell."
"I killed her son." Gregor snarled through the pain. "I raped her over his bleeding corpse, and then I killed her… like… this!" His left arm shot up and gripped Oberyn's face. Luke could see that the man was squeezing and he thought he could hear Oberyn screaming in pain, until he saw the Dornishman's arms move quickly and jam his spear into the vision slit in the Mountain's helmet. The strong arm quickly fell limp and flopped to the floor, and Oberyn was stood there, panting angrily as blood ran down the side of his head.
Luke took that moment to look around again and he saw that the fighting was still raging. The Lannisters had brought everybody back inside the castle walls, though in the distance he could see four white cloaks guiding a man away from the fighting. Snarling, Luke knew that he could end this now, though he very quickly also saw another recognisable figure in Tywin Lannister, making his way in a separate direction towards the Tower of the Hand. Undecided, Luke looked between them until Oberyn re-joined him at his side. "You get the bastard, I'll get Lannister." The Martell snarled.
Luke looked at the Dornishman and noticed that he had jammed the now severed head of Gregor Clegane down on his spear, leaving the steel tip free to still cause a lot of damage. Looking back at the battle in front of them, Luke simply nodded. "I want him alive."
"He will live." Oberyn growled, but Luke didn't like the danger in his voice. He had no chance to say any more however as the Prince of Dorne barked out orders and began running to the Tower of the Hand.
"Where too, Your Grace?" Ser Barristan asked, forming a protective barrier with Ser Caspor.
Luke thought for a moment about going to make sure Tywin was kept living, but realised he needed to trust his allies. "To the Throne Room." He decided. "I should have a talk with the bastard."
There was more fierce fighting as Luke and his Kingsguard made their way inside the Red Keep where they had since been joined by Loras Tyrell. Outside of the large doors to the Throne Room stood a quartet of Lannister men, with the only one not wearing a helm sporting long blonde hair that covered his shoulders.
"Lancel Lannister." Loras Tyrell announced. "Stand aside, you are beaten."
The blonde one gulped nervously, but he turned to his men and stated. "Nobody enters the Throne Room."
Luke twirled Blackfyre and grinned. "Have it your way."
He was the first to charge, slashing out at the Lannister boy and slapping his sword down, before being forced to parry a separate blow. Regaining his stance Luke lunged again, and this time Blackfyre gained new blood to coat its blade, killing both the other guard and Lancel in two quick blows. Elsewhere Loras and Barristan had dispatched the others, leaving only the doors between Luke and his throne.
Ser Caspor and Loras together began to bash down the doors with their bodies, and it was Ser Caspor, the large man that he was, that ended up barrelling through into the Throne Room. Luke then took the lead as they looked into the room and saw three of the Kingsguard stood beneath the Iron Throne, while the last of them was at the top of the steps, urging Joffrey to leave.
The bastard Lannister was sat on the Throne not budging however, and Luke could feel his green eyes bearing down into his own purple ones. "The Targaryen pretender." Joffrey grinned. "It is good of you to come to me to die."
Almost immediately Joffrey lifted his crossbow and fired, though Luke was just as quick to bring his shield up and the bolt embedded itself deep into the barrier. Joffrey had a look of panic for a split second, and Luke took a step forwards.
"I gave you a chance." Luke called out. "To surrender yourself and live. You turned down my generous offer."
Joffrey laughed mockingly. "That mummery, forced to live in exile while you sit in my Throne? Never."
"Joffrey Waters." Luke called out officially. "I, Lucerys of the House Targaryen the First of my Name, do order you to step down from my Throne and surrender yourself to me."
Joffrey glared, sitting upright and pointing at Luke. "Bring me his head!" He cried.
"Your Grace, you must leave…" The Kingsguard at the top of the stairs urged once more.
"No!" Joffrey shouted. "His head!"
The three Kingsguard down below took one step forwards, their swords withdrawn. Luke went to pounce but a hand on his shoulder stopped him, and Ser Barristan stepped forwards. "The last time I was stood in this room, I told you that I could cut through you all like carving a cake." The elderly Kingsguard knight snarled.
And as Ser Barristan connected blades with the three men that he had once called his brothers, Luke noticed how he moved like a man forty years his younger. Luke had seen him train and he had seen the Kingsguard knight protect him on a battlefield, but this fight was personal to the Stormlander. Ser Barristan swung his sword no more than ten times, and after the tenth all three of his assailants had died, and only Ser Barristan was left standing, his blade pointed at Joffrey. Luke watched as the last of Joffrey's gold plated Kingsguard took a deep breath and withdrew his own sword, standing between Ser Barristan and Joffrey.
"Stand aside, Ser Balon." Ser Barristan said strongly. "You are a good man, an honourable knight, and to see you stood here despite your family loyalty to Stannis Baratheon I know you to be a worthy Kingsguard, but this battle is lost for you. Step aside and I would have you keep your white cloak once this is over."
Ser Balon didn't move a muscle. "Be that as it may, Ser Barristan, but I swore oaths. My honour will not allow me to break those oaths. If you mean to harm my King, then I must protect him until my final breath."
Ser Barristan nodded the once. "Then I hope to see you once again in the Father's Golden Halls once my time has come." The elder knight said, resigned. He allowed Ser Balon the first swing, and whilst this battle was more of a fight than the last, the end result was still the same as Ser Barristan came out on top, and Ser Balon dropped to the ground, breathing no more.
"No more fine men will die for you, bastard." Ser Barristan snarled up at Joffrey. The Lord Commander began walking up the steps towards the Iron Throne. Joffrey fumbled at his crossbow trying to reload, but he dropped his last bolt on the ground and cried out as Ser Barristan grabbed the bastard by the neck of his chest plate and hauled him off the Throne and down the steps, throwing him eventually at Ser Caspor's feet. "Your Grace, the Iron Throne is yours."
Luke's heart almost skipped a beat as the words sunk in. There truly was nobody left to stand in his way. He moved his left foot forwards first, and then his right as he slowly walked towards the Iron Throne. As he got to the steps he looked up at the symbol of the Seven that hung in stained glass above it, a new addition to the Throne room. Then his eyes fell down to the Iron Throne itself. He gingerly walked up the steps and held his left hand out to rest his palm on a sword pommel on the arm of the chair, gripping it tighter as the cold steel actually felt real to him. He felt a tear well in his eye at the touch and so Luke quickly wiped it away before he turned around and sank into the chair regally, looking down at those in the Throne Room, and more men were starting to gather by the doors. Finally, after 17 years in exile, a son of House Targaryen sat on the Iron Throne once more.
All hail King Lucerys! That final scene included something I have wanted to do for a long time in having Barristan carve through the Kingsguard, and thankfully this story gave me the chance to do so.
I've long thought that it would be either Jon or (f)Aegon in the books that goes mad due to the bells, and I wanted to play around with Jon's PTSD here. I mentioned it in Chapter 2 I believe, and that mental issue is still there in Jon's mind, but he will hope that the redemption of seeing Luke on the throne will help him in that regard.
The Gregor Clegane fight was fun to write. If any man requires a large handful of opponents to bring him down, he will. Of course Oberyn had to get the killing blow though, and I'm sure the Dornishman will enjoy the overly large goblet he is about to make…
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As a mini incentive to review, the next reviewer will be the 250th of the story!
Next Time: The Targaryen regime begin their rule, whilst Luke deals out his judgement to the captured Lannisters…
Reviews:
RHatch89: Thank you!
suppes1: We are close to the ending of Season 2 here, so we've still a while to go before they can be ridden.
Tony McNucklz: There is something about appearances though, and if Luke allows his Father's killer to be judged by someone else when he had the chance and turned it down then people will start to ask questions.
: Interesting thoughts, though the Riverlands weren't at war with Luke this time so he would only do something against them if they don't bend the knee to him.
SpartanWolfj6: You'll have to wait until they meet to see…