Chapter 50: The fall of the Red Keep

300 AC

Robb

He looked over the eight monstrosities in the distance that would finally break Cersei Lannister's tyranny. The trebuchets were things of pure beauty and destruction. They were larger than all the trebuchets he had seen before, although some of his older commanders told him they seen some of similar or even bigger size in the Ninepenny wars.

Whatever the case, they would do. By now all buildings within half a mile of the Red Keep had been burned out or pulled down. This gave the siege engines much better angles to start shooting projectiles. In the latest stage, the siege engines had been brought into the city and were finished there. The Lannisters had tried to sally out against two of them a few days ago, but they had beaten them back so viciously that he didn't expect them to try again.

He had sent his ultimatum to the Red Keep yesterday at midday. No response had been received all throughout the day and night. It was now late morning and only about an hour was left until his offer ended. At midday the engineers were ordered to start firing. The first few shots would be to better angle their projectiles. Their mission was to bring down the front gatehouse. If they managed to do that, Maegor's Holdfast would be pelted into oblivion next. In a few days, his men would storm the remaining the defenders and end it.

He paced around on one of the towers of the outer walls of the city. The position gave him a great vantage point, while ensuring he was well out of harms way of the enemy projectiles.

Some of his commanders and friends were up here with him. All had hoped the enemy would just accept their fate, as it was clear it was inevitable by now. Tywin Lannister was still in the Westerlands. It was clear that he was having a much harder time there than he had expected. Already stories were coming from the region about mass desertions, whole contingents of troops refusing orders and even lords marching their troops home.

In response, the first stories of Tywin attacking vassals close to Casterly Rock were arriving as well. It was said Clegane's Keep had been burned down by the Lannister patriarch, among other smaller keeps. Still, the reaction of his major lords hadn't been what he had wanted. Many still remained at home, well those that were still in the region that was.

In most cases, the lords were in his captivity. The whole Westerlands was scrambling for leadership. Most houses were ruled by heirs or younger sons and brothers. In some cases, distant cousins even had to take charge. The last was visibly so in the parts were his army had gone through. House Sarsfield had but one male member that escaped with Tywin westwards. He now had to pacify the region, the Westerlings had none at all. This meant that, even if they were still loyal to the Lannisters, those houses couldn't support him in any meaningful way let alone raise troops.

No help would be coming from there in the coming months, let alone the next few days. In the south the Targaryen pretender was still securing the Stormlands. He had positioned scouts all the way up to the Kingswood to watch those enemy movements. In addition, many houses between Storm's End and his position would now also update him. The alliance with Shireen Baratheon was a great addition to his ability to keep an eye on the Targaryens. He had already sent small groups of a few hundred men south of the Blackwater to start preparing and securing their future supply route and establish relations with the Baratheon vassals.

Meanwhile, Tarly's army was still on the move in the Reach hundreds of miles from here. Still, to not repeat Stannis Baratheon's mistakes, he had sent out scouting groups all the way to Tumbleton and even Bitterbridge. No one would spoil his victory, he had made sure of it.

As he went over the geopolitical consequences of his victory in his head once more, he was suddenly interrupted by Smalljon Umber.

"Your Grace, look. Look at the gates. People are coming out."

He turned around abruptly, peering his eyes at the Red Keep. It was true a few riders were coming out. His first thoughts went to another ill-attempted sally out, but there were far too few to even attempt that. He guessed around a dozen men on horseback left the keep, riding slowly towards his lines.

In shock he realized this was a delegation to negotiate. Had they come to surrender?

"Friends, on me! The Lannisters might be willing to surrender." He shouted and he rushed down the stairs. Once down on the ground, he screamed to no one in particular to bring them their horses and within moments they were underway towards his front line.

When they arrived there, they saw how eleven men that had come out of the keep were among them. They had been disarmed, but otherwise unharmed. All of them wore the sigils of prestigious houses, although the lion of House Lannister and the stag of House Baratheon were markedly absent.

He dismounted and walked over to the delegation. Smalljon announced his presence in his booming voice. "I present you Robb Stark, King of the North and the Riverlands, the Young Wolf, Defender of Riverrun, Lannister's Bane and protector of the Old Gods and the First Men."

He looked over to the Umber heir with annoyance. All those titles were completely unnecessary and irrelevant. Besides, Lannister's Bane? Was he trying to goat the enemy into a fight? That was ignoring the Old Gods reference, half his kingdom believed in the Seven why would he ever bring that up?

His giant friend just smiled back at him. He walked forward towards what looked like the leader of the group. The noble recognized his cue and presented himself.

"I am Ser Merlon Crakehall, third and youngest son of Lord Roland Crakehall." The strong-looking knight presented himself.

"I know of your father, Ser Merlon. He is alive and well in my custody at Raventree Hall. I received word that he has healed from his wounds in battle and is back as strong as ever." He politely replied. Giving the man some news about his family might endear him to him.

it seemed his attempt had worked, as he saw how the knight let out a breath he must have been holding for months. "I thank you for the news, King Robb. If you would allow me to introduce my companions?"

He nodded. The names listed made for an interesting company. It consisted of Lord Celtigar, Lord Estermont and his heir Ser Aemon, Lord Gyles Rosby, an old man that looked closer to death than live, Lord Staedmon, Lord Varner, Lord Joshua Willum and his brother Elyas. Ser Mark Mullendore and lastly Ser Cedric Algood, a cousin of the main Westerlander house.

He looked in surprise at the assembly of lords from all over the south. Another interesting thing was the knight, a third son, seemed to be leading all those lords. He composed himself quickly and asked authoritatively. "I expect you come to me with a message?"

The Crakehall knight nodded. "We wish to surrender to you and your army, King Stark."

"You wish to surrender? Not Cersei or Tommen?" He asked.

"No, the queen-mother denied any attempt at reason and the boy is firmly in her grasp. The group behind me banded together with most of the goldcloaks who didn't want to die needlessly. We captured her and King Tommen and will deliver them to you upon the acceptance of our surrender, together with what remained of the Small Council." Ser Merlon answered.

Her subjects had finally rebelled. He looked over the nobles in question. Most of those had fought for Stannis and had only bent the knee to the Lannisters after the war. Still, the Crakehall and Algood knights showed dissent was more widespread.

"I will accept your surrender, my lords. I will promise that both you and your families will remain unharmed. Talks about bending the knee and ransoms will be held at a later date." He answered. The response seemed to surprise some of them, although they all seemed to accept.

Not much later, he was riding towards the Red Keep. Hundreds of his men went to the gates first, none of them taking any chances. Afterwards, he rode through the gatehouse and in front of him sat Cersei Lannister and Tommen Waters. Both were bound at the wrists and some kind of cloth was pushed in their mouths to shut them up too. Otherwise, they looked unharmed.

He looked over them in silence, as he stopped his horse and dismounted. Without locking away from Cersei's green emerald eyes, he gave one harsh command. "Get my father's head down from the gate, as well as those of other wrongly accused men. Give them to the Silent Sisters to clean."

Suddenly, he saw something change in the Lannister woman's eyes. Was it fear? He didn't know, nor did he care too much. Her end was near. He quickly glanced over the boy king. He and Jon had had had firm debates on what to do with the boy. His gut told him to execute him and be done with it, while Jon argued against killing children. The problem was that, at nine years of age, he was way too young to be sent to the Night's Watch. He would have to find a solution to that problem quickly.

Behind the two of them, over a hundred nobles were held captive by goldcloaks. He could see some bodies laying around the yard, although there were far fewer than he expected. He ordered his men to relieve the gold cloaks of their positions all around the keep. All of them were to be disarmed, after which they would be free to leave the keep. All of them took the offer without a complaint, although he could see some had clearly hidden some of the keep's treasures under their clothes.

The men-at-arms who had supported the coup were gathered together and dismounted as well but were also given food and drink and treated much nicer than the actual prisoners.

He finally looked upon all the nobles. He recognized sigils from the Reach, Stormlands, Westerlands and Crownlands. He had already thought out what to do with him in general, although other more in dept negotiations would have to be held with some of them.

"Throw the two of them in the black cells. They will be dealt with later." He said as he pointed towards the boy king and his mother. He then turned to Robin Flint. "Have the other noble captives brought to the Great Hall once we have secured the whole of the castle and the rest of the commanders have arrived."

He then walked up the stairs of the Red Keep, until he reached the Great Hall. Jon walked loyally on his right, as both looked around them at the sight of the Targaryen castle. Except for the Lannister and Baratheon banners and the newly positioned guards in Stark livery, this is how it must have looked during the time of the dragons. He and his brother looked at each other. They didn't have to say a word to understand each other.

He let Jon go into the Throne Room before him. He knew that, considering protocol, this was not done but he didn't care. For once he would give Jon a glance of what it would have felled like. What he had given up for him.

He walked behind him and looked upon the enormous room. He looked at the giant windows, the pillars and the huge hunting tapestries Robert Baratheon had hung were the dragon heads had once been before. He let his eyes wander over it all, until they reached the Iron Throne.

He looked upon the asymmetric monstrosity of spikes, jagged edges and twisted metal. This was what it was all about? This ugly iron eyesore?

Stark and Karstark guards lined the walls of the Throne Room, while Harrion and Torrhen stood below the throne itself. They had secured the room for him without incident. He nodded to them in thanks and walked around the room in silence, as he admired the intricate details the Targaryens had chosen to show their former splendor.

After a while many of his commanders streamed in one by one. Some silently, others with reports that parts of the castle were cleared out. When at last his uncle Edmure arrived, he declared that most of the nobility was now here. The Blackfish had been given overall command of the remaining army, a thing he quickly agreed with. His uncle had brought Ser Aemon Estermont and his company with him. Shireen's Hand of the Queen had been invited to witness the fall of the Red Keep and to take the oaths of her new vassals.

His nobles, friends and commanders lined the sides of the hallway, while his uncle Edmure and Jon stood beside him in front of the throne. He exhaled softly and without a word started climbing the stairs that lead to the top. He took great care to not cut himself on one of the numerous metal spikes and barbs that stuck out. He heard a lot of commotion from his lords at that, but he simply sat down and held up his hand.

"My lords calm down this is not what you think. I will not claim this throne, moreover I will have it destroyed before the week is at an end. Now, I need to judge all those captives outside. This seemed to be the most logical place to do it from, nothing more. To prove it to you, I will give all of you the opportunity to sit upon it yourselves after this business is dealt with. I know my brother would like to sit upon it once, I will give you the same possibility before it's taken down."

He saw Jon's head snap back at his command, but he just smiled at him. Most of his lords seemed to quiet down although some, like the Greatjon and Lady Mormont looked amused by the offer. "Now, if any of you would be so kind to signal Flint to bring in the captives and the lords that surrendered?"

A guard quickly ran out and soon Robin Flint marched in with a hundred and fifty nobles at his back. They all started to talk, as they saw him sitting on the Iron Throne. "First bring forward those Crownlanders that live north of the Blackwater river."

A dozen men stepped forward. In the front stood the old Lords Gyles Rosby and Adrian Celtigar. He motioned to the last one. "If you would like to stand back for now, Lord Celtigar? Your time will come later." Confused the sour man stepped back and rejoined the group of nobles behind him.

He looked over the group of people. Except for the old Lord Rosby, there was Lady Falyse Stokeworth. A recent widow, after her husband had died during the Battle of the Blackwater. Her sister and heir Lollys stood next to her. Aside from them, there were some leaders of knightly houses, as well as some cousins from houses Chelsted and Rykker.

He straightened himself and addressed the room. "Before the week is over, this chair I'm sitting in will be destroyed together with everything it stood for. The days of the Seven Kingdoms are over. Targaryens forced unity upon all nations of our continent three hundred years ago, I choose to give it back. This keep, how magnificent as it may be, is forever a remembrance to the legacy of the dragonlords. That is how they intended it, no matter how many hunting tapestries or flags you hang in it to make it appear otherwise. The keep and all its spies and secret passageways will disappear from existence, together with most of that legacy they fought so hard for."

This caused a huge commotion amongst the already talking captives. He ignored it and continued. "We go back to a time where this city didn't exist, nor did the Crownlands. In that time the border between the Riverlands and the Stormlands was set along the Blackwater river, and so it will be again. The Riverlords chose me as their monarch and almost all of your lands have already fallen under my army. So, I give all of you before me the chance to bend the knee to me. All of you will be able to return to your holdings unscathed. In addition, talks about the inheritance will be mutually held with Houses Rosby and Stokeworth to secure the future of their houses under the new peace."

All of them looked surprised at each other, but all the lower knights quickly seemed to accept. This seemed to be facilitated by the many lords of the Crownlands that were present among his followers. Many were family members or overlords of the knights present in front of him. The only ones that were hesitating were the major families. Lady Falyse spoke up. "What do you mean with our inheritance? It is true that I am a widow and past childbearing age, but my sister is my heir. She has many fertile years left to her."

He nodded. "Yes, she is. if you bent the knee, she will be acknowledged as such. However, to continue your line, she will need a husband. To secure the stability of the region, we will have to decide upon that together."

Lady Stokeworth seemed to consider that. "You swear to uphold the rights of my sister and her descendants upon all of our lands?"

He smiled. He knew that this was no way to talk to her king but knowing how confusing all of this must be, he would let it slide for now. "On the Old Gods and the New."

She nodded at that and seemed to resign to her fate. Old Lord Rosby spoke next. "You will secure my family's lands for some of my kin when I eventually die?" The old man spoke. His voice sounded soft and weak. He nodded. "I ensure it to you. We can discuss your preferences for your succession tomorrow in the afternoon."

This made the old lord smile, as he nodded. Then all of them swore themselves to him, as he accepted their oaths. Afterwards they swore themselves to uncle Edmure as the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. The remaining lords from the region joined in to swear themselves to House Tully, having already sworn themselves to him. The only exceptions were the Clawmen, as they had been promised that they would only answer to him directly. His uncle seemed happier than he had ever seen him, not surprising as his territory had just expanded greatly.

Once that was done, he called forth the houses from the Stormlands, the Narrow Sea and the southern Crownlands. He also called Ser Andrew Estermont to him. He saw how the Estermonts in front of him looked surprised at the presence of their kinsmen, but he paid it no mind.

"I have made an alliance with Queen Shireen Baratheon. She has accepted to drop every claim on the Seven Kingdoms on the condition that she will be accepted as Storm Queen, like her Durrandon ancestors. As such everything from the Dornish Marshes to the Blackwater belongs to her. As such all of you before me get the chance to swear yourself to her. Ser Andrew Estermont here below me, is her hand of the Queen. He will take your oaths in her name, after which you will travel together to Dragonstone to repeat it to her in person." He spoke up.

"And if we don't?" Some Crownland knight spoke up.

"Well," he smiled, "then the Night's Watch will happily thank me for the new recruits."

This seemed to push many over the edge. Ancient Lord Eldon Estermont was the first to come forward. His surprise for having to kneel in front of his grandson was clear, but he did it all the same. After him, his son and other grandson bent the knee too, followed by all the Stormlanders and most of the Crownlanders. Of the fifty or so people, only four refused. He could respect their stubbornness. The Night's Watch had a very serious lack in members of nobility, so their lives would not be wasted.

As those that had bent the knee joined the ones at the sides, only the Westerlanders and Reachmen remained in the middle. He called upon the latter first. Olenna and Margaery Tyrell had managed to flee the city towards Bitterbridge, but many of their nobles and companions had not. Most notable amongst them Lord Orton Merryweather, although it was being whispered that he was more Cersei's creature now.

He had gotten a letter from Lord Willas Tyrell yesterday. The new lord Lord said he refuses to negotiate with 'the killers of his father' and outright ignored his offer of a crown. He had been disappointed at the news, but not surprised. Ravens had already flown to the Florents and Hightowers promising them the Reach in return for an alliance against the ironborn and Tyrells.

Other more troubling news from the region had also reached them. Willas Tyrell had announced his betrothal to Talla Tarly, the eldest daughter of Lord Randyll Tarly. With this, and many other gifts and honors, he had seemingly brought the elder lord and his army into the fold, as it was finally reported that Tarly was marching.

Apparently a few hundred men from the army had been executed for their loyalties towards the rebels, while some nobles were taken captive. After crushing any possible dissent, he was now marching on House Crane, one of the Florents' major allies with the remainder of his force.

This swung the conflict greatly in the Tyrells favor, although the ironborn kept inflicting heavy damage on the Tyrell cause. He looked over all the people from the Reach. Many of those who had surrendered the castle to him hailed from there. He saw Ser Mark Mullendore, the brothers Willum and Lord Varner but also Fossoways and others.

He got an idea there. "I offered Willas Tyrell very generous peace terms a while back, yesterday I finally got a reply. He refuses to negotiate with me after the death of his father and younger brother at the hands of my armies. As if it was my fault that they invaded our lands, burned our keeps and attacked our people." He said, frowning intentionally at the last sentence. This got him the support of many in the room.

"If he wants war, he will get it. The Reach needs a strong leader who can bring peace. If Willas Tyrell is not the one to do that, maybe the new Lord Florent will be. He has the better claim to the crown of the Reach after all. I'll make the choice pretty clear for you. Everyone that fought for Stannis against the Tyrells at the Blackwater and swears to do it again is free to leave. Every one of you will be escorted to a safe road at the border of the Reach. I advice you all to rally around Lord Alekyne Florent, together you may bring down the power of Highgarden. Any of the others who publicly denounce House Tyrell and swear on the Seven to go to war against them may leave too, those who don't will be escorted towards the dungeons." He exclaimed.

Many of the lords looked at each other, until the brothers Willum stepped forward. "Our father was killed by Tyrell and Rowan troops while cowardly attacking us in the rear here at the city. I will not sit in jail for them. I will try my all to bring House Tyrell low once and for all, I swear it on the Seven." The eldest swore in front of the whole hall.

Ser Mark Mullendore was next. He had lost half his arm in the battle and it was clear he was keen on revenge. After him followed Lord Varner and a Fossoway. Their few remaining vassals and sworn swords were next. Some other landed knights and minor nobles denounced Lord Tyrell as well, but all the prominent nobles stayed loyal. They probably thought it safer to wait out the war than bet on the wrong horse. All it would bring them for now is a stay in the castle's dungeons.

That didn't mean it hadn't paid off. If he could get two lords and a dozen of landed knights into the Reach to gather their resources against the Tyrells, he could easily give Lord Willas another headache. In truth he couldn't care less if the Florents won or not. That's why he hadn't complained that the Baratheons would be sending Ser Axell Florent to the Wall. All he wanted was for the Tyrells to be too distracted to be able to attack him. His other objective was for the Reach to damage itself as thoroughly as possible, so the winner couldn't afford another war and would be forced to come to terms with him in time.

Now, only the Westerlanders were left. He had contemplated addressing them like this too, but he had thought the better of it. He addressed one of the sergeants of his guard. "If you would be so kind as to escort Ser Crakehall and Ser Algood to my solar and have food and drinks served to them? I will be with them when they are finished. Bring the others to the dungeons but make it comfortable enough for them and have food brought down to them as well."

The sergeant simply bowed, followed by a series of short commands to the guardsmen around him. As the last prisoners left the room.

"What of the goldcloaks that stayed loyal to the Lannisters, Your Grace?" Robin Flint asked him.

"Are there many?" He responded with a question.

"No, about two dozen or so have been taken captive." The Flint heir replied.

"Prepare them for the voyage north towards the Wall." Flint bowed and walked out with two of his guards. As they slipped out, a Ryswell man-at-arms entered the room. He bowed very low before addressing him.

"Your Grace, we have inspected the dungeons, as ordered. We found many a common criminal, but also others. Among the captives we found certain nobles that my liege thought would be sympathetic to our cause. All have been brought to see a Maester and all will be offered a hot meal and a feather bed. However, one of them was quite adamant about speaking to you, Your Grace. His name is Lord Beric Dondarrion. What should I do with him?"

He looked upon the guard in surprise. Beric Dondarrion had been with his father when he was captured. He looked towards Jon and he saw him make the same connection in his head.

"Let him in, please." He told the guard, trying to hide his shock.

The lord that hobbled through the door wasn't what he had been expecting. He had heard from Sansa how the young Stormlord had been a dashing young man upon which the ladies looked fondly. Not much could remind you now that he had been such a man.

His once red-gold hair was in disarray. It was too long, unkept and extremely greasy. Patches of sweat and dried blood kept it sticking to his skull and neck. The Marcher Lord was leaning very heavily on a walking stick someone must have brought him. He could also see a horribly healed scar on his left shoulder where parts of his tunic were ripped off. It looked like a battle scar which had never been properly cared for. The tunic itself was in tatters and obviously hadn't been replaced in many months.

On first notice, Lord Beric looked broken. However, when you looked closely in the man's face you could see a steely resolve. The man seemed to have half-handedly splashed his face with water, as less grease and blood could be found there. He probably looked more recognizable like that, or that's what he gathered from the shocked faces of recognition from the other Stormlords present.

"King Robb", the lord addressed him loudly, while respectfully bowing his head a little. "Lord Dondarrion," he responded while nodding his head back. "I am pleased to see you alive. We all feared the worst had happened, after so long a silence."

"I am still alive, yes. I am the last one I believe. Heard your father died and my squire, Lord Dayne, got out at least. Don't know much since then. Your vassal Roose Ryswell filled me in on some of the basics, yet I excuse myself if I'm not entirely caught up yet."

"That doesn't matter, Lord Beric. All will be explained in due time over a hot meal and a price from the Lannisters' wine cellar. I heard you wanted to speak to me immediately?"

"Yes, I do. I am the last one alive from our side who saw what happened here the day your father and I were captured. The day Ser Rolland Storm and Ser Robar Royce were unjustly murdered for defending King Robert's honor. You need to hear this, as do some of the others present in this room." The crippled lord said, although he could see the strain on his face from leaning on the cane.

"You saw what happened to my brother?" Ser Ander Royce asked, as he stepped forward out of the crowd.

Dondarrion looked at the Vale knight and quickly recognized the Royce livery he was wearing. He nodded sadly. "Him and many brave others that were ripped from this world too soon by nothing more than Cersei Lannister's greed and lies."

He could see how the Stormlord was preparing himself to start the tale and decided to interrupt now instead of after he started. "Guards, bring some comfortable chairs with cushions over." He looked across the hall. "Bring at least four of them!"

He walked down from the Iron Throne slowly, as to not cut himself.

By the time he reached the Lord Beric, four cushioned chairs were hastily being brought into the throne room. He had one placed next to the Stormlord and three in front of him, but with enough space so the rest of the hall would be able to hear their conversation in between.

He took place in the center chair and urged Jon and Ser Andar to take one of the seats next to him. "Those who lost kin in the fight should be on the front line to hear how it happened."

His show of leaving the authoritative position of the Iron Throne to sit down with them was met with confusion and support. It also seemed like Ser Andar and the remaining Vale lords were pleased with him being giving a more central position, as were the Stormlanders with the respect showed to Lord Dondarrion.

The tale told was one of fighting in this very throne room. It was followed by fighting across the yard and finally the Tower of the Hand. Ser Andar cursed when he heard the fate of his brother, vowing to find and end the Hound no matter the cost.

He just numbly looked in front of him. His father had tried to do the right thing. He had even prepared himself and gone so far out of his way as to try and bribe the Gold Cloaks, a thing entirely out of character for him. Even he had been forced to play this vicious game the capital seemed to force out of all men. He had just been bested by more devious men, who were far more adept at those wicked games they played in the capital.

Many a voice had also gone up cursing Littlefinger's involvement in the whole ordeal. Although at that, Ser Andar had simply smiled. "I wasn't there, but I got word that my father personally took the schemer's head. That particular revenge has been acquired at least." This was news to Lord Beric it seemed, and he nodded gratefully for it.

Lord Beric was quickly notified of the future situation of the Stormlands. He was all too quick to try and rise up from his seat to bow down to Shireen Baratheon. Seeing how difficult it was for him, Ser Andrew Estermont stepped forward and stopped him. "Your loyalty is without question, my lord. I will simply take your vows, there is no need to kneel."

After that was all done. Lord Beric spoke up. "May I inquire about the remains of my companions and the fate of their families while I was locked up?"

He nodded. "House Stark is still alive and strong. My brother and I marched south with the might of the North after news of your capture was made known to us. The remainder of our family is alive and well in Winterfell. I married my queen Alys, formerly of House Karstark. She has since given birth to my daughter Eddara, although I am yet to see her for the first time."

The Stormlord smiled at that. "Your father would have liked that very much. The night before, … before the slaughter, we shared some ale, your father and I. One of the last things he spoke about was you, both of you." He said, as he looked at him and then at his brother. "He told me how he wanted you to be raised in a just world. How he would stand up against the Lannister crimes, not only because it was the right thing to do, but also to show you to remain true when times get hard. Lastly, he confided in me that whatever happened the following day, he knew his house and the North would be safe because he trusted the two of you to keep it so."

Lord Beric's words did more to him than he could have ever imagined. He had great difficulty keeping it together, but it was his duty as a king to do so. After a few moments, he profusely thanked the man, as did his brother.

After that, Ser Andar spoke up. "My father and I swore vengeance after the death of my brother. We rallied together with the other lords of the Vale and rid it Littlefinger, his bastard son and his cronies. Our family is safe. While I lead parts of the army here, my father rules together with Lord Harrold in the Eyrie. A memorial is to be built for Robar's bravery in one of our newly acquired villages. House Royce will never forget his sacrifice."

"From what I could tell, your brother spoke fondly of you and your father. He would appreciate it very much." Lord Beric smiled. Although he couldn't have known either his father or Ser Robar that well, it was clear that the short time together had forged a bond. If he thought about it, knowing your alleged king was a bastard of incest and knowing you are the only ones able to stop it would have that effect. Fighting side by side and seeing them die or be captured would only strengthen that resolve.

"Is Ser Rolland's brother here, Lord Bryce?" The whole Throne Room seemed to shift on their feet now, until old Lord Estermont spoke up. "Lord Caron died at the battle of the Blackwater. His killer, Ser Philip Foote, has since been dealt with."

This shocked Dondarrion, who quickly asked. "Then who rules the Caron lands now?"

"No one, officially, as of yet. Although we have been looking at some very distant cousins of Lord Bryce to continue the Caron line." Ser Andrew Estermont spoke up. It seemed as if he wanted to speak up yet he remained silent on the matter. "Their remains?"

"The remains of the guards and servants were unceremoniously thrown in mass graves. Cersei Lannister adorned her gates with the heads of the nobles." He barely managed to spit out, thinking about the weathered skull he knew had been his father.

"Still?" Dondarrion asked in shock.

"No, they have been sent to the Silent Sisters and afterwards will go to their homes." Jon answered, seeing full well how difficult he had it. He appreciated his brother's help as he had great difficulty checking his emotions for the moment.

This seemed more than the weakened Stormlord could take and he was quickly escorted towards a Maester. He adjourned the court session and, as promised, allowed any who wanted to sit on the throne the possibility to do so. Only after Jon had done so, of course. He almost had to physically push him up there, but he knew deep down that his brother wanted a glimpse of the life he could have had. His brother was scared it would change him he knew, but that was ludicrous. He would make sure he had that experience at least, even if it meant forcing him to so.

Seeing his brother up there, Ghost silently vigil before the steps, did something to him. He could see the Targaryen Jon could have become for the first time. As they locked eyes, he swore they revealed some dark purple glint inside of them. It seemed he hadn't been the only to notice something was up, as many of the remaining nobles became silent. Jon noticed too and quickly walked down the steps. Luckily for them, the weird silence was soon broken by the Greatjon, as he shouted that it was his turn next.

His brother and he walked out of the courtroom together. Jon turned towards him to speak, but he stopped him. "We will talk about it tonight." He said encouragingly.

(Three days later)

The Red Keep had proven to even outdo its ominous reputation. After its capture, he had sent men into every room to look for secret passages. Some had been found and they had begun exploring and mapping Maegor's crazy tunnel system. What had shocked him the most was that they had found dozens of passages leading to previously checked rooms. Rooms his men had sworn to be clear of anything. No wonder some spymasters in the past had such a fearsome reputation. They could hear everything that went on in every room here. Anything that was said by anyone could be picked up.

However, the secret tunnels had shown even more sinister things. Many closed off passages led outside the keep or even outside the city and the deeper and the further they went, the more of it they found. Wildfire, hundreds and hundreds of barrels of the explosive stuff. He had immediately called the last of the pyromancers to him. After they had gone to look at what they called 'the substance', they had sworn him that those stashes couldn't be from the Lannisters and were probably left there by Aerys.

After over sixteen years, it was completely unstable. He had ordered all his men not to touch it and had evacuated everyone that didn't need to be there outside of the city. After two days and two nights, the remaining pyromancers, with their help, had managed to transport most of it to the dungeons and tunnels under the Red Keep.

The keep itself had been emptied of everything valuable, from every book in the library to every piece of silverware or even the remaining dragon skulls Robert Baratheon had hidden away. Hundreds of thousands of valuables were transported to the camp to be divided there.

He would be glad when that castle was finally gone. No healthy court could ever reside in a place built for secrecy and spying. To think some had proposed him to take the throne and rule from there. That was not the Stark way and it shouldn't be anyone's way. He'd rather die fighting than rule a court in those circumstances and for the first time he pitied Robert Baratheon. The man had never been cut out for ruling, aye, but no one could be prepared to deal with the things they found beneath this godforsaken city.

The good thing about the wildfire, as long as it didn't blow up prematurely, was the fact he now had a way to rid himself of all of it. The wildfire was buried deep below the castle and within Aegon's Hill. Still, the pyromancers ensured him that so many pots that old would leave a huge blast. The castle and most of the tunnels would cave in. The remainder would be forcibly collapsed or closed off.

They had almost mapped out the entire system and when that and the displacement of the wildfire were finished, Aegon's biggest legacy would be no more. It would blow up together with the hill that was named after him, a fitting end.

He and his commanders had pondered about why these pots had been placed, to no avail. Answers had come from an unlikely source. Old Lord Rosby had told him in their meeting that, due to his keep's proximity to King's Landing, he had heard rumors that Aerys was planning to trap Robert's force and blow them all up together. Apparently, the Mad King was heard to have said that "he would rise again as a dragon out of the fire". Another reminder why they could never let this 'Aegon' or Daenerys anywhere near that throne. It even seemed to have done something to his brother, although he had quickly shaken it off.

No, before the week's end all of this would be over. Even if the Targaryens tried to come back, he would make sure there was nothing for them to come back too. His father had been the third Stark in two generations to die here at this place. He would be the last. None of his kin would have walk those halls again. This would be his legacy.

This is it for this chapter!

Robb takes the Red Keep, after Cersei is overthrown from within. The conquest of the Northern Stormlands is practically finalized with the Rosbys and Stokeworths bending the knee.

Shireen gets a whole new number of vassals (the vast majority of them had served her father before the Blackwater). Robb plans to send some of the Reachmen to their homeland to stir up more trouble. He also makes great use of the symbolism of getting on and off the Iron Throne. Beric Dondarrion is still alive and tells him the story of the day Ned was captured.

While clearing and mapping out the Red Keep, Robb finds the secret passageways. Following the most obscure ones leads him to many of the wildfire stashes spread around the city by Aerys II. They transport most of them over towards the Red Keep, as they prepare for the end of the Targaryen legacy.

Reviews:

- Kingmaena: Thank you for the continued support!

- Foxy-Floof: Thank you! Even in canon he is a voice of reason in Stannis' crazy court.

- Force Smuggler: Thank you!

- Finkarhu: You're welcome.

- Kuman: Because taking the name of an ancestor who has been death for 250-300 years is a bit much. 1. It's never been proven that Orys was his bastard brother and it doesn't give them a claim either. 2. You can't just mop up 300 years of history. House Tully's overlordship of the Riverlands is Targaryen legacy as well, Robb won't replace them either. Although the Durrandon ancestry will come more to the forefront.

- Demindp93: You're welcome! I'll keep that in mind but making new POV's is very difficult and those chapters take longer to write.

- Death Lantern: That's Robb's plan. We'll have to see if it works.

- Anindhitania238: Thank you so much for the compliment. I don't think I'm even going to watch it after seeing how they butchered the Velaryons, among others …

- Supremus85: Oh okay, I'm sorry. Still, thank you for the compliment.

- Wolflord456: Thank you, I will!

- The Prussian Gamer: Thank you so much! I will finish this don't worry.

- AJ Granger: Without dragons it's just impossible. The Vale and the North are almost unconquerable because of their geography. Casterly Rock is too strong a castle to conquer and will always hold out until another kingdom can come in and change the balance of power. Storm's End is almost the same. Dorne is very hard to conquer without dragons and even then, you can't hold on to it without the locals. Without unity in the rest of the south, they won't be economically forced to join the rest either.

House of Dragons might just say that to justify season 8 with Dany and Jon against the others. I'm not taking that show as cannon, just as I don't take AGOT as cannon. The Targaryen cannon is in a Fire and Blood, which I read and know.

Shireen is eleven years old. Getting a child in a super important negotiations would drop Davos' chances of reaching a good agreement. Just imagine they are talking about trade taxes and Shireen asks why they are haggling so much, or she keeps her mouth but looks displeased, happy or confused. The Northern delegates would jump on that to better their odds. She will be present at basic negotiations and holding court, but this is too vital for that. She will be able to veto the agreement though, which says a lot of Davos because as regent he could just accept it. Besides this is a medieval setting, of course a lot of men will look down upon women. There is a reason that there has never been a Stark Queen in 8000 years for example. That said, Davos isn't one of them, so this isn't the reason she's not there. However, in the future she might be absent sometimes because of that. It's the way of their world.

- Poly19hum: Thank you! I have a soft spot for the world in itself and smaller houses and families. Besides the lack of prominence for House Locke always surprised me, as Ned's grandmother and the then Lady of Winterfell was a Locke. It took me a while to get Davos right, glad I mentioned to pull it off.

- Flame55: Thank you!

- Iacopo Passerini: Yes, you're right. Another thing the show butchered by just having her disappear. Melisandre burned alive, but not in a normal way and it showed her magic once more. Thank you! You're right, now they are able to take the Red Keep.

- Angeluszuko-z: Yes, she will. I think she would be happy with the fact she now has less responsibility and more legitimacy in her rule.

- Raw666: It would be a nightmare, but not undoable. You'll have to wait and see what the Dornish do.

First of all, strategic marriages under Daeron II and his children and grandchildren. Secondly, the Blackfyre Rebellions served as outside treats to rally the whole kingdom together. Thirdly, a lot of PR spending in tourneys, feasts, … to try and unite parts of the realm. Fourthly, choosing advisors wisely and strategically. Aerys council at the start consisted of two Lord Paramounts, multiple Crownlander lords and his kingsguard came from all over. All of this fell apart towards his later reign and Robert's reign was always less secure (if he could do it, who else could?), let alone Joffrey's.

The Targaryens did built a lot of roads (Kingsroad, Riverroad, Goldroad, …) etc. to connect everything to KL. They also built a lot of infrastructure in their capital. However, the amount of rebellions increased after the dragons died, and the power of the Targaryens dropped slowly. Especially starting with the reign of Aegon V. He passed a lot of laws good for the realm/peasants, but not the nobility which set them against his house. The marriages of Jaehaerys and Shaera and Aerys and Rhaelle and Summerhall did the rest. It was only after that, that grasping lords really started feeling the division and the opportunities they posed for them.

It was noted that Tywin's speed in dealing with the rebellion was impressive. He probably put them down before an army could be raised/marched all the way from the Crownlands.

- Guest: As mentioned before, I leave out the White Walkers because it doesn't bring anything to the story. It would just mean 20 more chapters with some major deaths and a sadder ending. No one ever makes the White Walkers win. It's getting predictable and annoying to know who wins all the time.