PART III: A City This Darkness Can't Hide
The River Gate
300 AC
The screams were getting louder.
As Starag Mormont heard the River Gate slam shut behind him, BAM, he turned his attention to the southernmost road leading towards what was left of the King's Gate: River Row.
Of course, the bloody dragon! He cursed himself.
Their defenses had held true against Aegon's army. It was damn near impossible for them to even have a hope of breaching the city with the amount of preparation he and Jon had put in its defense. No, the army would've been starved out otherwise.
But a dragon? No, that simply would've changed everything. That was enough to tip the scales in Aegon's favor and tear right through their defenses.
Now, Aegon's men were likely pouring into the city if they hadn't been already. Or perhaps they were clearing out the rubble from the blast, getting prepared for a cavalry charge or something of the like. The city would be filled within hours.
And Mormont knew that would mean the end of them all.
"We need to reroute our forces!" Jon said sharply, calling him back to the present. "I'll take my men and head to the King's Gate. With any luck, we can hold it long enough for Ser Kevan and Lord Blackwood to arrive with their forces!"
Mormont knew just how risky that plan of action was. Chances were that the enemy's forces were flooding into the city.
They'd already sent word to the other commanders, though Mormont knew well enough that even they'd seen the explosion, and the dragonfire. Aegon must've torched some of his own men pulling that off. Aegon was desperate then.
That was about the only good piece of information presented to them. Otherwise, his men were now infected with a new fear of the dragon in the sky, and the enemy had an advantageous beachhead into the city.
Mormont knew more than anyone, that something would need to be done about that dragon.
"Take the rest of mine," Mormont said. "The River Gate is secure. Head down River Row with any horses you've got. The enemy will run scared if they see a cavalry charge."
"What will you do?" Jon asked. Mormont didn't need to be a mind-reader to see the curiosity in his dark gray eyes.
"I'll handle the dragon," He replied calmly. He was the only one who could deal with the beast. Aegon would probably attack with it again. And soon.
Jon scoffed. "With what? It's too fast for ballistae or catapults."
Mormont shook his head. "Just trust me on this one, Jon." He looked into the young man's eyes. "I'll explain to you later. Just… let me handle it."
Jon suddenly gave him a look of understanding and nodded. "I trust you, uncle." He said. "Good luck."
"Good luck, Jon." Mormont smiled. He then turned to his men. "Follow Lord Stark to the breach and hold the line!"
His order seemed to shake the men back into the moment, and even summon back some of their courage. Jon gave him one last nod before he mounted his horse, rallying the men, and galloped down the southern road leading out of Fishmonger's Square, heading straight for the ruins of the King's Gate.
Mormont was soon left alone in the abandoned market square. In the distance, he heard the wailing screams of women and children. And he heard the cheering of men as they bounded into the city with renewed morale.
He squeezed his fist tight, and the deep blue angular markings overtop his skin glowed brightly underneath the cracks of his plate armor and clothing. Time to perform.
The last time he killed a dragon, it had not been flying in the air. Theirs was a land battle in the pit of a volcano.
This time would be quite different if he did succeed.
Mormont realized he would need a good location, somewhere that gave him a bird's eye view of the sky. Somewhere get a clearer look into the sky above-especially since it was still dark.
It was then that he heard it again.
The howling whistle as it soared through the air. The beating drum of gargantuan flapping wings. The thunderous, echoing rumble within its chest told him it was about to spew flames into the sky.
Sure enough, FWWWWOOOOOOOOSSSSSSH! Behind him, something bright and orange had reflected off the snow and slush on the ground before him. Mormont twisted around and saw the sky light up in fresh flames of red and gold!
The blockade! His instincts were firing off like a catapult. Aegon was targeting the blockade now! If he destroyed all the ships on the river, his fleet would be able to roll in and unload the rest of his forces onto the harbor. They'd flood through the breach in the King's Gate and even overtake the River Gate as well. The siege would end quickly.
Can't let that happen. Mormont looked around for the closest and tallest tower or building within his vicinity.
Of the twin watchtowers that overlooked the River Gate, it was the north tower which was the tallest. But the next tower beyond it was probably the highest among the watchtowers along the eastern wall, called the Dreamer's Tower.
Mormont put his plan into action. He turned to the base of the stairs of the River Gate and jumped up the steps two stairs at a time.
The men along the walls were looking out over the Blackwater Rush, and that was where Mormont had gotten a look at how much damage had been done. Once he did, his stomach sank.
The ships at the front of the blockade had been thoroughly destroyed. All that remained of them were the charred remnants of splintered wood and oil being forced into the water. There was even the stench of burnt flesh on the wind.
"Men!" He shouted to the ensnared guardsmen and men-at-arms, likely in shock because, for the first time in more than a hundred years, a dragon had swooped down from the sky and single-handedly destroyed not just the blockade, but one of the entrances to the city.
"Men!" Mormont shouted again, grabbing their attention. "Go help Lord Stark at the King's Gate! The enemy will be flooding into the city!"
"But my lord, there's-" One of the Manderly guardsmen had started.
"I damn well know there's a dragon!" Mormont thundered sternly. "I'll handle the dragon, you lot get down to the King's Gate and help Lord Stark! That's an order!"
The man was shocked into complacency by his thunderous tone. "Yes, my lord!" He nodded and began running down the southern wall. The others went with him.
Mormont turned back to the Dreamer's Tower and started running.
As he ran along the stone walls of the city, he clenched his fists tight, willing the elements to heed his call. He felt his muscles convulse and squeal the same as if he'd been sparring with Arthur, the extra exertion laid upon him for calling upon his magic. Once he'd burst through the doorway of the north watchtower, he heard the sky above rumble and pulse in response to his call.
Mormont quickly found the door leading back out to the wall. He pushed it open with all the force in his arms and legs, nearly throwing it back off its hinges. There were a few more men stationed there who nearly jumped back as he appeared.
"Get to the King's Gate! Help Lord Stark at the King's Gate! Quickly!" He ordered.
They recognized him just as fast and complied, running past him as he continued on to the Dreamer's Tower.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the clouds broil and drum in the early morning sky. The black curtain of the night soon turned into a dark gray, with the occasional flash of yellow, blue, or purple. Just before he touched the wooden door to the Dreamer's Tower, he felt the first pellets of rainwater splash against his face.
He threw open the door with a mighty swing. The stairs were on the left leading up. Mormont bolted for them. One, two. One, two. One, two. One, two.
Outside, he heard the flapping of wings over the crackling of distant thunder. Then, FWWWWWOOOOOOOOSHHHH! He knew that more flames had been blasted out from the mouth of the great beast. More ships were gone from the blockade. More lives were lost.
Not today, Mormont thought angrily. Not today. Not if he had anything to say about it.
He'd killed one dragon already, and would damn well put down another if he had to. Regardless if this one belonged to Jon's aunt, who was on their side. Her dragon was in the hands of a maniac, one who threatened to burn the North and rape Margaery along with Ashara and Dyanna-Mormont's surrogate family.
One, two. One, two. One, two. Up the steps he ascended, and with each passing second, the flapping of wings got louder, and the booming rolls of thunder and lightning got closer and closer. He didn't know how high a distance or how many steps he climbed, he just kept going. The rain beat and pounded against the walls of the tower, only emboldening Mormont to go faster. One, two. One, two. One, two.
Finally, the stairs had ended, and Mormont was still not at the top. He saw the ladder and the hatch only ten feet above it. He flew to it and climbed it in a matter of seconds, blasting open the hatch from the inside and jumping up onto the top of the watchtower.
The roof was a hollow cone just like the other towers around the city. Though there were no windows, only four pillars held up the roof of the tower. Mormont was able to look out over the entire city save the tops of Aegon's Hill, Rhaenys' Hill, and Visenya's Hill.
What a beautiful sight it might have been, were it not for the fires.
Mormont turned back to the blockade. The rain that was now pouring down from the sky had since doused some of the remaining flames attached to the sunken wood. And now, much to Mormont's anger, the invading fleet had begun making its way toward the mouth of the Blackwater Rush.
Shit! The remaining ships on the river would not be able to withstand that large an opposition. If only-
Wait… is it possible?
Mormont didn't know if he could pull off the madness that he was considering… But ultimately his doubts didn't matter. If he didn't do it, then Aegon's fleet would roll right into the Blackwater Rush.
Not today.
Mormont drew Tempest from the axe hook on his back. He closed his eye and reached into the depths of his mind, finding the calm within him, the power that would call forth the raging storm he desired.
Far above, the clouds began to thicken and stir according to his will. Over the Dreamer's Tower, the clouds had parted into an imperfect circle, forming the calm eye of a storm. Outside of it, the winds picked up, growing harsher and harsher, more powerful as the seconds passed by. So terrible and full of rage, enough to topple ships in a stormy sea, enough to bring down the mightiest of war galleys, and the sturdiest of buildings. A storm so unreasonable and unnatural that those beneath it would believe that the gods themselves decided to intervene on this very day.
The engraved runes along Tempest's axe blade lit up with righteous fury, glowing a bright blue in the darkness of the storm that now raged around Mormont.
Though he'd not yet seen it, he could hear it.
KRRRAAACKBOOM! KRAAABOOM! CRAAAAAAAAACK!
The wind soared and screamed in his ears, quickly drowning out the screams of women and children, the rattling of steel blades clashing against one another, or the nervous cheering of men as they charged into battle.
And then he heard it again…
BOOM!
Waves.
Mormont got cracking. He imagined waves so powerful and strong that they were damn near as tall as the walls of the city-no! That they were far bigger and monstrous, significantly larger than the heights of Visenya's Hill itself!
When Mormont opened his eye, he heard the sounds of water crashing and foaming in the distance. He ran to the edge of the tower, looking out over the railing and beyond the city walls, past Aegon's Hill, what remained of his blockade, and into the heart of Blackwater Bay itself.
There he saw them. The overwhelming and impossible might of the sea raged forth. Mormont forced himself to maintain control of them as the gigantic rolling walls of water rose from the depths, rising higher than the walls that were atop Aegon's Hill, and climbing up to the same height as the Tower of the Hand!
Ignoring the new sheening coat of sweat on his brow and skin, the heat he felt pulsate in his muscles underneath his plate armor, the intense ache he felt in his bones, Mormont thrust his axe forward, as if to throw the tides themselves at the invading fleet!
The water had graciously accepted his command, having been built up to such a titanic height, and blocking the spearhead of Aegon's fleet from reaching the river. It now surged forth and downward as it curled with its full might into the fleet in front of it.
Mormont did not hear the splintering of wood nor the screams of the countless men who had been aboard those vessels. All he saw was the dozens, no scores of war galleys being picked up by the Great Wave itself and being rented apart piece by piece. Masts of oak and spruce being shredded and cracking apart, the sails tearing at the seams, and the bodies being flung high into the sky only to sail back to the ground at lightning speed!
As the mighty BOOM, receded, Mormont got a good look at the damage that had been done.
The ships in Aegon's fleet that hadn't been immediately destroyed had been flung back against the northern coast, back towards Dragonstone. Either that or they soon tipped over into the sea due to the leftover waves that had been borne out of the remnants of the first.
The blockade, blessedly, had received minimal damage. Mormont smiled as he saw the ships that hadn't been burned by dragonfire were being pushed further into the Blackwater Rush by the responding waves.
Aegon's fleet, in the blink of an eye, had been decimated! Almost a third of his forces were now floating to the bottom of the Blackwater! They wouldn't be able to reach the River Gate or the King's Gate!
Mormont didn't stop to rest on his laurels, though. He still had one more target. Just the one. And he wouldn't rest until he found him.
Mormont searched wildly among the sky. The stirring clouds had since realized that they out-welcomed their stay, and had slowed significantly. Mormont still kept the thunder rolling, though. As he knew what would need to happen next.
Where are you, pretender? Aegon would not risk landing, not in such terrible weather. Especially not as he still planned to burn the rest of Mormont's ships. He was still somewhere in the sky, flying on the back of his dragon.
Suddenly, Mormont had a flash of inspiration. He looked at the weapon in his hands. Yes! That would do it! Tempest would find its target, just as it had back in the Mountains of the Moon!
It didn't necessarily matter if the target was Aegon. If the dragon was hit, then Aegon would go tumbling to the ground with it.
Mormont put his plan into action. He stepped forward and imagined his target, plain as day. The great green-scaled shadow that had burned his blockade, and that still threatened to turn the tide of the siege in Aegon's favor.
He'd apologize to Jon's aunt if he got the chance. Right now, it was time for him to take down a dragon.
"Seek!" He hissed his command to the axe. Once more, Tempest pulsed brightly as it recognized the order. Then Mormont stepped forward and threw the axe into the sky above.
As if it were an arrow homing in on its target, Tempest immediately changed directions and bolted to his left.
Aegon wasn't going for the blockade, it seemed. But why? What else had caught his attention?
He realized it right then, Jon.
Mormont ran to the other side of the tower railing, watching madly as his weapon soared and spun through the air toward its target.
Even far in the distance, as Tempest sped above Visenya's Hill, Mormont grinned as his weapon locked onto the great winged beast that now flew downwards to the King's Gate, likely now to finish off what remained of its defenders.
Then, Tempest had lanced home.
And in that one shining moment, time had stopped.
"RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!"
A terrible, inhuman screech sounded throughout the air. It wasn't too dissimilar from the dying roar that Mormont had heard from the dragon inside the First Flame, yet this one was significantly more pain-stricken. As if its heart had been torn out in one smooth motion.
As Mormont snapped his fingers, and in a matter of seconds, Tempest jetted away from its target and back to his hand. It impacted his hand as if he were catching a ball.
On the glimmering black and glowing blue axe blade was a shining coat of steaming red dragonblood.
Mormont looked sharply to where the dragon had been only moments ago, and now watched as the great green shape now suddenly changed directions. It glided downwards at an insanely fast speed and was no longer headed for the King's Gate.
But now it was headed for the depths of the forest north of King's Landing.
Mormont saw it on the far edge of the city and simply knew that both the dragon and its rider had crashed landed.
Mormont let out a sharp exhale. He'd done it.
Now, as the storm calmed around him, there was no distant rolling of thunder and lightning, there were no terrified and desperate screams of women and children, and there were no longer any renewed cries of excitement that once emitted from Aegon's army. Neither was there any fatal roar.
For one of the first times in Starag Mormont's life, there was complete and utter silence.
Author's Note:
YEEHAW! The Hammer of the Gods himself strikes again!
For real, though. You've got no idea how long I've had that image in my mind; of Starag taking down Aegon on dragonback. Feels damn good to put it onto the page if I say so myself.
Doesn't mean Aegon's dead though (not yet at least)…
Next up, Jon rallies his men for one last hurrah and holds the line.
See you then 🔥
Bhuvan Nagaraj.D: Starag is the miracle man. Even though I've since realized that I've effectively made him the Westerosi God of Thunder, he's still so much of pleasure to write as.
waitwose: Just wait until everyone hears that it was Starag who took down the dragon. Whole aftermath show is gonna be a banger.
As always ladies and gents, keep doing your push-ups and your squats, and keep rolling on. See you next time 💪