Chapter 14:
Most nights, the phantoms of his failures visited him, forcing him to relive his final fight against the King of Evil. On some especially dark nights, he dreamt of the terrible fate to come, of a never ending wave of darkness, the cackle of a madman and bright blue eyes.
That night, Link danced.
First he danced with a maid of summer, with flowers in her hair. The gentle breeze carried her laughter as her eyes of fire sparkled with delight. The calming gush of the Blackwater Rush rang in his ears as they danced, the maid's silhouette forming different images under the hot summer's sun.
A stalwart mountain range brought low by an armoured man shrouded in mystery and a knight of love and death exacting his vengeance against a lion. A ruined peninsula swarmed with beasts from the seven hells, a crumbling tower, and on and on they went, the images coming and going like the ever present waxing and waning of the moon.
High above, in the clouds, the three eyed crow watched, regret glinting in his eyes.
Then Link danced with a maid of autumn with sadness in the air. In her breathtakingly blue eyes, echoes of tragedy flickered like a flame. The just slain dishonourably, a feasting hall swallowed in a tide of blood and above all else, the Lion of Lannister roared in triumph.
As they danced among a field of ash, beasts watched the maiden with hunger and desire alight in their eyes. At her feet, a mockingbird sang, lust and satisfaction brimming from every note. A black porcupine and a hanged man made to reach for the maiden, but a scarred dog barked them off. A golden stag watched from afar, its eyes of wildfire glaring balefully at the maid. The three eyed crow watched with determination from a dead weirwood tree, its trunk blackened from fire.
In the ruin of a great hall, Link danced with death. Her eyes were deep pools of blue grey, like that of a frozen lake or the frost he had seen in winter with Gerion as a boy. A pleasant fog shrouded his mind at the sight of her. She was tall and ethereal, her long bone white hair framed a face so beautiful it made him weep tears of ice.
The maid of death evaluated him with her soft eyes of frost. At the end of the ruined hall, on a high table, shades of the dead sat. One had the head of a wolf with a bronze crown, another had hair like spun gold and a face the colour of puce, a crown of crusted gold adorned with rubies and black diamonds sat askew on the boy's brow. On and on the row of the dead went, each and every one of them Kings.
Whilst the other Kings' attention was on the ethereal woman, one man's gaze regarded him only. He lazed on his throne of skulls as if he were born to, a smirk etched on to his pale, comely face. An eyepatch obscured his left eye, but his right was a pleasant blue, clear like the Sunset Sea on a summer's day. His lips were bruised a pale blue and a dark beard lined his jaw. He wore dark, smoky scaled armour, covered in glyphs and runes. When he saw Link's gaze, the King grinned.
Above them all, The King sat on a throne of ice. Closely cropped dark brown hair adorned a long handsome face. The King wore the night as his cloak and his bronze crown of swords shone with a lustre that put all the other, lesser Kings to shame. The man's bright blue eyes were blazing with a hatred of all life that chilled Link to the bone. The three eyed crow cried mournfully at the sight of him.
Death cradled him in her arms as they gently spun across the hall, her cold skin was smooth and unblemished and slightly blue, as if she had been out in the cold for too long. As the dance ended, she held him tightly to her, soothing him and humming gently in his ear.
"I'm so sorry it had to be this way, my hero." The woman murmured softly. Her voice, light and lovely, like a soft winter's gale, sent another wave of awe through him. Link! You must run Link! The crow shouted in his mind. Panic stirred in his chest, why did he feel so cold?
"None of that now, my love." The woman chided gently, pulling back to look him in the eye. Her eyes shone like bright blue stars, reflecting a love so cold a violent shiver cascaded down his spine.
Were her eyes always that bright? Link thought as his teeth chattered. Her dainty hands snaked their way up to his face, leaving a faint trail of frost in their wake. Her pale, plump lips stretched into a smile so dazzling that he weeped once more.
"Do not worry, my hero. Soon, everything will be over ." She said, her voice echoing loudly throughout the ruined hall, like the crunch of snow underfoot and the cracking of ice. Her voice was oddly familiar, he realised, cold sweat sliding down his back. The woman leaned in towards him, the twin stars resting in her face inching closer. Those eyes.
Their lips met and the cold of winter engulfed him, spreading from his lips, slowly freezing his blood as it pumped through his body. Clarity and terror hit him like a thunderbolt. An Other! Oh I am a fool, Link thought, struggling against the vice grip the Other had on his face. The Night's King and his Corpse Queen, Gerion's voice whispered in his mind.
The Corpse Queen smiled through the kiss as his vision blurred, the cold eroding his strength like the Sunset sea eroded the white cliffs of Lannisport. She released him from the kiss and he collapsed to the snow covered floor, the Corpse Queen following him to the ground and sitting his head in her lap. The King with the blue lips cackled.
So cold, Link thought as the Corpse Queen hummed a sweet lullaby to him and the world went dark.
Link awoke as dawn bled over blackwater bay with tears on his cheeks and bile in his throat. Seven Hells, he thought as he stared at his shaking hands, his sweat drenched hair hanging in front of his eyes. Seven fucking Hells.
The horror of Link's dream lingered at the fringes of his mind as he mechanically went throughout his duties with Tyrek. They broke their fast with warm buttery bread and a few slices of bacon, reminiscing of the time when their Aunt Genna had scolded Gerion like a boy after he had drank too much arbour gold at family dinner.
"He went as red as our house banners!" Tyrek said through gasps of laughter, amusement swimming in his bright green eyes. Link laughed along with him, even as a fierce longing pierced his heart.
They entered the King's compartments quickly, guarded by a still half asleep Ser Meryn Trant. The King was still abed with two whores, mercifully awake and not busy with them. It was Tyrek's turn to blush Lannister crimson to the roots of his golden hair.
Tyrek fetched the King some sour red as Link dressed him in a deep black doublet with the golden crowned stag of House Baratheon embroidered on his breast and simple black breeches.
Link watched as the King wistfully stared down at the tourney grounds from the balcony. "Once I would have joined the melee and smashed any who dared face me, with Ned by my side." King Robert said, more to himself than Link, his fists clenched. "Now, even if I convinced Jon to let me, no knight would ever think of harming me because I'm the bloody King." The King said bitterly.
"What I wouldn't give for a real fight, to kill Rhaegar Targaryen again on the Trident like I do in my dreams. For that I'd give up my bloody Crown!" King Robert exclaimed with a fire in his eyes. Yours is the fury indeed. Link thought.
The King dismissed his whores and his squires when the Hand entered the room. Link only caught the mention of the Master of Laws, Renly Baratheon as the Hand whispered urgently to the King, his face darkening like a thundercloud as he heard the news, before Link and Tyrek were shooed away.
Link said his goodbyes to Tyrek as they arrived in the Red Keep's training grounds once he caught sight of Jaime. Tyrek grinned and waved Link's apologies off.
"I'll be happy to have a break from my daily trouncing dear cousin. Mayhaps you should seek out Ser Jaime more often." Tyrek said with a rueful grin, humour alight in his eyes, before walking on to face one of their fellow squires, whistling a popular Dornish song as he went.
Link's brother grinned at the sight of him. Under the hot beating sun, Jaime looked like the Warrior himself. A sheen of sweat covered his skin as he bested each and every knight who challenged him.
"Link," Jaime called, his ever present arrogant smirk settling into his handsome face. "Care for a bout?" Link nodded, determination rising within him like a wave as Jaime offered him a blunted bastard sword.
Link fell into an aggressive stance, knowing that the only way to beat Jaime would be to do it quickly. Even after his recent growth spurt, Jaime was a man grown, taller and stronger than Link.
Jaime left Link without time to even blink as he dashed forward with a flurry of blows, each fast and precise that Link side stepped or parried.
Link went on the offensive, needling Jaime's guard with well armed thrusts and slashes. Needling, but never piercing his brother's guard.
Their blades met with a clang when Link blocked an overhead strike from Jaime. His brother pushed against his blade, and Link let him, using Jaime's momentum against him and disengaging. Letting Jaime stumble.
Link pressed the advantage and struck out with his blade but Jaime, quick as a cat, leapt back away from him. Jaime grinned and feinted left, before slashing downwards against Link's shoulder at the last moment.
Link grunted and stumbled backwards, ignoring the explosion of pain in his shoulder as he brought his blade up to meet his brother's once more. Jaime grinned as he kicked Link's legs out from under him, not content to fall for the same trick twice.
Dust and sand blew around him in a cloud as he rolled into a crouch. Jaime evaluated him with his jade feline eyes as they circled each other. Link gripped the bastard sword in one hand as he rushed towards Jaime, slashing out towards his brother's body and punching him in the face.
Jaime's head snapped back as he blocked the slash. Before Link could bring his blade up to his brother's neck, Jaime lashed out, kicking him in the knee and making Link stumble once more.
This time Jaime didn't give him time to roll as he brought the pommel of his sword up and struck him in the head, causing stars to burst in Link's vision. Before he could collect himself, he felt the cold bite of blunted steel and Jaime's voice.
"Yield, brother." Jaime said, pride brimming from his voice.
"I yield," Link said before sighing. He had been so close, if only he had been a little quicker-
"Don't brood too hard, Link. If anything you should be proud, very few men have ever gotten that close to beating me, let alone a boy of your age." Jaime said, his smile softer than usual. Link only nodded as Jaime helped him up. I must be better. Someday soon, I will not be in the training yard where mistakes can be corrected with a laugh. Link thought, shuddering as he remembered his dream.
Jaime must have noticed something in his face, for his eyebrows furrowed. "What's on your mind Link?" Jaime asked, uncharacteristic concern lacing his voice.
"I was wondering, Jaime." Link began, the beginnings of a plan taking root in his mind. "How would you defeat the mountain?" Jaime blinked at the change in conversation but his green eyes grew dark with contemplation.
Link had, in his past life, fought monsters similar in size to Ser Gregor Clegane. Armoured beasts like darknuts, who wielded giant poleaxes that were taller than him, but Jaime had witnessed Clegane in battle.
"Speed." Jaime said, his face strangely stoic. "There would be no point in trying to overpower him, even for someone as strong as me. I would deal him defeat through death by a thousand cuts, going for the gaps in his armour." Jaime said in between gulps of clear water from a wineskin Link had fetched for him.
"Why do you ask, brother?" Jaime asked, eyes still hooded with memories of the past.
Link smiled. "Only curious, the men from Sarnor are said to be at least as tall as Ser Gregor. What if I were to come across them one day?" Link asked rhetorically, the picture of innocence. Jaime nodded, satisfied.
Link could remember his Uncle Gerion talking of the Sanori to him and Joy Hill, about Lomas Longstrider and his adventures across the known world. What he wouldn't give to hear Gerion tell him myths and legends once more.
It was then that Link noticed the lingering silence that choked the yard. All the men at arms and squires watched them, some with awe and others with envy. On the breeze he heard soft peals of laughter and turned his head, smiling when he noticed his niece Myrcella and nephew Tommen.
That smile turned to stone as he noticed Cersei's poisonous glare and the handsome boy by her side. There was no denying that the Crown Prince was a handsome boy, even at eight name days it was clear that he had inherited his mother's striking eyes and luscious hair.
The sight of Joffrey brought him back to his dream of Kings and death. Cold sweat ran down his back and ash rested in his mouth as he realised, Joffrey was the boy King who died choking. Joffrey will die of poison.
For the next stage of his plan, he led his red shadow to the privacy of his solar.
"Lann, I have a favour to ask of you." Link began, looking into his friend's pale eyes. Lann nodded, unperturbed.
"Anything Milord." Lann said with a reassuring smile, his eyes twinkling.
"On the day of the joust, I need you to go into the crowds of the smallfolk and protect a lady with the look of old Valyria." Link said quickly, hand drumming against his high backed chair.
Lann's brows furrowed but his reassuring, indulgent smile never faltered. "Do you mean the friend of yours from Flea Bottom?" Lann asked, his eyes twinkling with humour once more.
Link gaped. "You knew?" He asked incredulously, panic twisting knots in his stomach. If Lann knows, who else does?
Lann must have seen his panic as he laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Link. Whilst you're not as sneaky as you may think, you are discreet and I made sure that the guards told no one." Lann said, dropping the formalities as he squeezed his shoulder.
Link's racing heart slowed down slightly and he breathed a sigh of relief. If all goes to plan, I will never reveal myself at the tourney.
"As for your fair lady, I will watch her, as long as you don't get yourself killed in the tourney Milord." Lann said with a laugh.
"Thank you Lann, I don't know what I'd do without you." Link said with a grin.
"Probably set fire to the Red Keep, Milord." Lann said with faux seriousness, before his facade broke and he laughed a deep belly laugh. Link laughed with him, happy to have Lann by his side.
Tobho Mott's forge was located near the top of Visenya's Hill, at the end of the Street of Steel, with the Great Sept of Baelor looming above like a giant of old.
The shop was a huge house of timber and plaster, the upper stories of the building looming over the narrow street like a storm cloud. He dismounted from his trusty steed, Epona, brushing her mane once he did so.
Lann pushed open the doors of ebony and weirwood, engraved with the scene of a great hunt. Inside, a slim serving girl waited in a cavernous room, rows of weapons of every type adorned the walls. The girl scurried off at the sight of them.
Not long after that, a man entered the room from a side door. He was broad shouldered and corded with muscle, his head was bald and a grey beard lined his jaw.
"Hello my lord, what can I do for you?" The man, who was undoubtedly Tobho Mott asked.
"I'd like to order a suit of plate for the joust, simple and unadorned. I have no doubt that this will be enough for both the armour and discretion." Link said as he offered the man a heavy pouch of gold. Tobho Mott's eyes widened once he saw the amount, but he quickly collected himself. Lannister gold has its perks.
Mott nodded, before his eyes fell on the sword at his hip with its golden lion pommel. "I never forget one of my own makes, and that is certainly one of mine." Tobho said with his gravelly voice. He looked into the pouch of gold again before nodding. "I'll have the armour ready for you before the tourney Lord Lannister."
Now all I need to do is win the tourney, and bring the Mountain to justice.
When Link met Val that night he played his harp for her. He played a song from his past life, one that's notes were ancient and laden with the power of the dawn, of warmth and of Summer most of all.
Val danced to his song of summer and Link brooded on things to come.
Hello everyone! Sorry it has been so long since I last released a chapter, real life has been a pain. Dream sequences are both one of my favourite and hardest things to write. I hope you enjoyed it.
Review!