Hello, everyone! Long time, no see. Sorry for the wait, but here it is, the first battle of the postponed Dance of the Dragons - the Battle of the Arbor. As the following Author's Note will state, this chapter is going to be quite bloody and gory. Then again, it wouldn't be a proper battle without blood and gore, now would it? Without further adieu, go on and read. Enjoy!
Author's Note: Blood, gore, and profanity.
His ears ringing earlier from the cheering and condemnations of the crowd that had gathered outside of the Starry Sept, all Jaehaerys the Pretender could hear now was the beating of Shrykos's wings and the waves crashing in the Redwyne Straits below. It was turning out to be a beautiful day today. Sunshine abounded, none of the present clouds bore the promise of rain, and the sea was untroubled. But Jaehaerys could not enjoy the scenery around him. He had something more important to focus on, that something being an upcoming surprise attack on the Arbor, specifically Ryamsport on the island's peninsula.
Jaehaerys tightened his grip on Blackfyre, reassuring himself that it was still hanging from his belt and that he was armed. He was nervous, very nervous in fact. Jaehaerys could recall from his boyhood when he wanted to join his father atop of Sunfyre during the Daughters' War in 132 AC, and how his parents expressively dissuaded him from doing so. And now, as he headed off to his first battle, Jaehaerys did not feel any of the excitement that he had felt that day nearly twenty years ago. Besides feeling nervous, Jaehaerys also felt sorrowful. Waiting for him at Ryamsport was his half-cousin, Prince Lucerys Velaryon, and Jaehaerys did not wish to fight him.
But if all went well with Luke and his retainers getting seized by House Redwyne's guards, then the only casualties should come from the burning of the Velaryon Fleet. If nothing went well, then Jaehaerys knew that there was a strong possibility of him fighting against Luke and his dragon Arrax in the sky above the Arbor. Hopefully, the Battle of the Arbor would kill two birds with one stone: capturing or killing the Dragon Queen's second born son and destroying the Velaryon Fleet.
"Uncle Aemond would certainly love to kill Luke."
Jaehaerys looked down at the Hightower Fleet as it sailed through the straits below. The king's uncle was aboard the fleet's flagship, the "Lady Patricia", and even from where he was flying, Jaehaerys could see Aemond standing at the prow of the ship thanks to his black cloak. Willem and Myles Hightower were aboard the Lady Patricia with Aemond, and Lord Augustus Redwyne was sailing aboard his ship, the "Gilbert of the Vines". Thirty ships had splintered off from the main Hightower Fleet to assist Jaehaerys in liberating the Arbor from the Velaryon's. That may seem like a paltry number of ships to take on the greater number of Velaryon ships that were present around the Arbor and Summer Sea, but with Shrykos and the element of surprise, a good deal of damage was expected to be dealt upon those enemy royal vessels.
With the weather being clear and good, it would not be long until the Pretender and his forces reached the seat of House Redwyne. The Redwyne's castle, Stone Cask, was located in Ryamsport, a thriving port town that sat on the tip of the Arbor's northern peninsula and served as the island's unofficial capital. The Redwyne Fleet, the largest and one of the three most powerful naval forces in Westeros, patrolled the Redwyne Straits and the adjacent Sunset and Summer Seas alongside ships from the realm's most powerful fleet, the Royal Fleet. The presence of so many ships overcrowded the waters outside of Ryamsport and the Arbor's other two settlements of Vinetown and Starfish Harbor. Merchants and sailors complained how hard it was to navigate their vessels around all the ships, fishermen complained about how all the activity on the surface was scaring away fish, and islanders complained about how the Velaryon's were consuming too much of their home's resources.
The Redwyne's grumbled about their guests, Prince Lucerys Velaryon and his retainers, but like their subjects, they made sure to grumble and complain out of Luke and his allies' earshot. Like the people of the Arbor had to say anything anyway. Lucerys and his men knew that the Arbor's tolerance for their continued presence was wearing thin every hour of every day. And yet, Luke's determination to find his hated half-uncle and hold him accountable for his older brother's death was what motivated the Velaryon's to stay at the Arbor. Luke and his retainers did their best to stay out of the Redwyne's hair for as much as they could during their stay at Stone Cask, and the Velaryon's usually communicated with their host through servants.
House Redwyne's maester, Kevan, had his work cut out for him. He too shared information between his lieges and their visitors, saw to both their medical needs, and offered impartial advice when it was necessary. Lucerys found Maester Kevan to be both trustworthy and reliable. These positive traits came under threat on that fateful morning on the first day of the eleventh moon of 150 AC. After he had broken his fast, Maester Kevan went into the castle rookery to check to see if his ravens had eaten their food when he spotted a raven bearing a scroll perched on the window that faced the Sunset Sea.
"Huh, what do we have here?" Kevan said as he went to greet the raven and relieve it of its scroll. It was unusual to receive a raven at this hour of the morning. Untying the scroll from the raven's leg and feeding it some grain, Maester Kevan observed the sigil on the wax seal - a cluster of grapes. Kevan raised his eyebrows at the sight of the familiar sigil.
Perhaps Lord Redwyne and his retinue were coming home today? How did he and Prince Aemond fare in Oldtown? Eager to slake his curiosity, Kevan quickly unrolled the scroll and began reading. What was written in that scroll was far beyond anything that Kevan could have imagined.
"Kevan,
I do not have time to fully detail what is going on right now here in Oldtown, but please read this letter very carefully. Recent events have culminated in the queen's nephew, Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, announcing his intent to pursue his claim to the Iron Throne. He and his wife Jaehaera will be crowned as king and queen at the Starry Sept before the ink on this parchment is even dry. Now, pay close attention to what I have written next, Kevan. The king is going to bring a substantial force to the Arbor that will include Aemond, some of his Hightower cousins, and myself to subdue the Velaryon Fleet there.
Send word to the castle guards to keep their eyes peeled for the Hightower ships and King Jaehaerys's dragon on the horizon. Once they are spotted, have the castellan open all the castle gates so that the Greens can access Stone Cask, and have both him and the captain of the guards arrest Prince Lucerys Velaryon and his retainers. Hold them until you are given the order to deliver them to the king. I hope and pray this letter finds you before you receive any of the queen's ravens.
You have your orders, Kevan. Act as soon as you finish reading this!
Augustus"
The maester's skin was blanched white after he finished reading the letter. Hiding the queen's murderous half-brother from the Iron Throne's justice was one thing but participating in a plot to steal the Iron Throne itself was another. Kevan looked out through the window at the Sunset Sea. No sign of a dragon or ships yet, but they were coming. Depending on the weather, the time it took to sail between the Arbor and Oldtown took about an hour at the most, half an hour at the least.
Anxious, his mind swimming, Maester Kevan's thoughts were interrupted by squawking coming from the window. Turning around again, the maester saw that he had been visited by yet another raven, who was arguing with the Oldtown raven over the grain he had been given. A rattled Kevan rushed towards the new raven, grabbed it, removed the scroll from its leg, and released it, wherein it resumed squabbling with the other bird. A three headed dragon decorated the wax seal on this scroll. Blood pressure rising, Kevan broke the seal and unrolled the scroll.
The author of this new letter was none other than Queen Rhaenyra herself. It was quite a coincidence.
"Lucerys,
This is urgent. A conspiracy against us is afoot and we have been betrayed! Blackfyre was stolen last night by your cousin Jaehaera of all people, and she has fled from King's Landing to Oldtown with her children and Ser Edmund Naeryon. But that's not the worst of it, Luke. It is with the heaviest of hearts that I must inform you that Thea was brutally murdered last night.
The wretched bastard who murdered her confessed to the torturers that he had been paid by the Greens to kidnap your grandson Aemon, but he snuck into the wrong room by mistake. Your Aunt Helaena was complicit in both plots, and she confessed to me personally. Helaena, Jaehaerys's whore and their bastards, and the murderer's accomplice have been arrested. The Greens are trying to steal my throne, Luke! They plan on crowning Jaehaerys as king and overthrowing me!
Take your dragon and the fleet from the Arbor and head for Oldtown at once. Bring fire and blood to House Hightower! Reduce them and their allies to ash and bone! The Father Above is your only judge. Joffrey, Baela, and Aelyx will be informed to help cull the traitors in the Reach. Make haste, my son! Make haste! Protect our family! Protect the Iron Throne!
Gods be with you all,
Your mother the queen"
Feeling uncomfortably warm, Maester Kevan ran his hand through his hair. He was starting to sweat. The maester stumbled towards his desk and pulled out a chair to sit down. This was a lot to take in: treachery, murder, destruction, fire and blood. Overwhelmed as he felt, Kevan knew what he had to do; he knew where his loyalty lied, and he did not want the Reach to be victimized further by the Dragon Queen's fiery capriciousness. Retrieving a candle and some flint, Kevan lit the candle and held the queen's letter over the flame until it was nothing more than a pile of ashes.
Meanwhile, the Velaryon's were completely unaware of the danger that they were in. Prince Lucerys Velaryon was eating breakfast in Lord Redwyne's solar with Admiral Alyn, Marilda, and three of High Tide's household knights: Sers Luthor Waters, Brandon Quince, and Isyck Follard. Luke had known the three men since they were boys when they squired for him. Two of the knights had kinsmen who were well acquainted with the Blacks prior to Rhaenyra's coronation.
Ser Luthor Waters, the oldest of the three knights, was the bastard son of Ser Luthor Largent, the late Commander of the City Watch in King's Landing, a good and loyal friend of King Daemon's from his bygone Gold Cloak days. Ser Brandon Quince, the middle of the three, was the great-grandson of Ser Robert Quince, the late former Castellan of Dragonstone who served Rhaenyra when she lived there during her father's reign. Ser Isyck Follard, the youngest of the three, had no old family ties to Lucerys or Rhaenyra I. He was simply the nephew of Lord Follard. Luke was fond of his former squires, and he trusted them completely.
Everyone was seated at a long dark wooden table that was bedecked with silver candelabras. Luke sat at the head of the table with Alyn on his right and Ser Follard on his left. Marilda sat beside her son. Ser Waters sat beside the mother and son duo, while Ser Quince sat beside Isyck. The solar was a beautiful place.
It had an ivy-covered columned veranda and staircase that opened up on a cloistered garden and a lovely view of the Summer Sea west of the Arbor. Hanging on the wall adjacent to the veranda was a faded but still beautiful tapestry that depicted a long dead Lord Redwyne hawking with nonother than Aegon the Conqueror himself sometime before the Conquest took place. Balerion and two hawks flew above the men's heads on the pale blue thread sky. Bookshelves, a desk that held the alabaster bust of Lord Manfryd Redwyne, the second Master of Ships to serve on the Old King's small council, and three suits of old armor all furnished the room. The solar smelled of the sea and of the roses that grew in the cloistered garden beneath the veranda.
The scents and scenery seemed to add more flavor to that morning's breakfast of fresh baked bread, hard-boiled eggs, white and yellow cheeses, three different kinds of fruit: grapes, melons, and peaches, and watered Arbor Red, as the six people happily dug into the meal while they got ready for the day. Dining with good company on fine food in a beautiful setting put everyone in a good mood that morning. The only dampener was the usual topic of conversation that was discussed every morning for the past fourteen days. Patrols and searches. Both very mononantus and boring.
Three maps depicting the Redwyne Straits and the Summer and Sunset Seas were lying between Alyn and Luke's plates. The two half-brothers poured over the maps as they ate and drank. Marilda quietly glanced up from her plate every now and then as her youngest son and the Lord of the Tides discussed naval movements and amphibious searches. Sers Waters, Quince, and Follard did the same, and they offered suggestions whenever it was necessary.
"I have a proposal to make," Alyn said after contemplating the western edge of the Sunset Sea's map. All eyes were on him now. Alyn rested a fingertip on an illustration of three islands. "I propose that we have some ships sail west for the islands of 'Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya.' Our ships have been canvassing the Summer Sea and Redwyne Straits for a fortnight and neither hide nor hair of Aemond has been seen on any of the trading cogs, galleys, carracks, and fishing boats that have departed from Oldtown and the Arbor."
The eyes of Alyn's audience moved from him to the island chain. Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya were the most westerly known landmasses in Westeros. Far from being barren rocks that jutted out of the sea, these three islands were forested and teemed with wildlife. Lady Elissa Farman had discovered these islands nearly a century ago during her voyage around the world, and the bounty of Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya sustained her and her crew as they repaired and resupplied their ships. With abundant freshwater, wild pigs, and fruits and nuts, these islands would be the perfect hideaway for Aemond.
The men quickly latched onto the possibility of Aemond hiding out amongst those islands.
"The Velaryon sails should be switched out with Redwyne ones," suggested Brandon. His suggestion was immediately objected by Luthor.
"Why? It's not like Prince Aemond can run away anywhere. His dragon's dead."
"Well, he could walk out to greet the ships," Brandon countered snippily, unhappy over being questioned. This made Luthor bear down on Ser Quince even harder.
"And what makes you think he won't run away once he sees Admiral Alyn's silver hair shining in the sun? Redwyne's are freckly redheads. Aemond will take off like a bat out of hell once he sees Alyn."
"We'll canvas the islands then," spoke up Isyck in an attempt to deescalate the argument. "Hounds can be brought with us to help find him."
"I will accompany the ships with Arrax," stated Luke, his words diffusing the situation. "I could try and follow Aemond and burn him out if need be."
"A good deterrent for the Red Kraken as well," Alyn added. "Keep him and his longships from following us farther west beyond the watch of local naval patrols." Seeing the confused looks he was getting, Alyn pointed at another island that lied east of Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya that was called "Lonely Light". "Lonely Light is Ironborn territory," explained the admiral as he tapped his finger on the Iron Islands to confirm his statement. "Krakens don't burn, but longships do."
"I think it will ultimately be a fool's errand in the end." It was Marilda who had spoken, finally breaking her silence. The men all turned to look at Marilda as she buttered a slice of bread. Luke raised an eyebrow at his half-brother's mother.
"What makes you say that, Marilda?"
Biting off a piece of bread, Marilda held Luke's gaze as she chewed. She finally answered the Lord of the Tides after swallowing.
"Both you and your uncle are princes, my lord. I take it you two have done your fair share of hunting. Did you ever see Aemond hunt?"
"Once," Luke answered gruffly, who was displeased over having to reminisce about his despised half-uncle. "It was during the festivities held to celebrate my grandfather's recovery from the amputation of his fingers. I was eleven then."
"Did Aemond kill any deer?" Marilda pressed. "If he did, did he skin and butcher the carcass himself?"
"Yes, one. And no, his servants did all the dirty work. What does this have to do with anything?"
"Yes, mother," added an equally confused Alyn, "Why are you asking the prince such questions?"
Looking from Lucerys and Alyn and back to Lucerys again, Marilda cut right to the chase. "I am asking to see if Aemond is self-sufficient or not. If he is, then perhaps it is not beyond the realm of possibility that Aemond could survive on his own on those islands. If he is not self-sufficient, then we shouldn't even bother sailing so far out west in hopes of finding a spoiled prince who doesn't know how to help himself without the aid of servants."
Luke opened his mouth to reply but he was unable to do so. None of the other men could respond either. Marilda had a point. So where did that leave the Velaryon's? Alyn thought of creating a blockade around the Whispering Sound and force Lord Hightower to shut the gates of Oldtown to apply more pressure on the Reach by hobbling the region's economy, but he quickly thought otherwise.
Tensions were high enough already, and an economic downturn would undoubtedly spark a revolt. There was another option, but Alyn knew that Luke was not going to like it. That option being leaving the Arbor and the Reach entirely. As much as both men wanted to see the fugitive prince apprehended and the death of Crown Prince Jacaerys Velaryon avenged, their drive, or Alyn's drive at least, to see these goals through was waning. Two long weeks of fruitless searching had been taking its toll on the Velaryon's and their resources. Not only that, but the Velaryon's continued unwelcome presence at the seat of House Redwyne had caused a palpable sense of resentment to grow and fester between captors and captives.
Before Luke could respond to Marilda, his half-brother spoke up.
"Brother, I think it would be best if we left the Arbor."
Luke swiftly turned to face Alyn looking incredulous. The three knights also pivoted their heads towards the admiral with looks of utter disbelief on their faces as Alyn took his mother's side.
"What?" Luke sputtered before regaining the power of speech. "Alyn, we cannot leave without finding Aemond!"
"Who has not yet been found," Alyn countered. "Aemond has evaded capture for fourteen days. Either the prince has learned how to turn himself invisible, or whoever is hiding him is doing a damn good job of it."
"Which is why we need to find him!" Luke snapped, rising from his chair swiftly and aggressively. Alyn flinched but stood his ground and looked his half-brother in the eye. Sers Waters, Quince, and Follard rose up in anticipation of defending their liege. Marilda, being the only calm person in the room, decided to intervene, and she too rose from her chair.
"My lord. Alyn," Marilda said with her arms outstretched in a conciliatory manner. "Let us not fight here." Marilda turned to face Lucerys. "My lord, I understand your frustration and your desire to find your brother's killer, but we cannot find him, and neither can your brother, nephew, and sister-in-law.
I agree with what my son said about how we should all leave the Reach. Not only will the Redwyne's be glad to be rid of us, so will the entire Reach. The longer our forces remain here, the more the Reachmen hate us. The sooner we depart, the sooner the resentment between the Iron Throne and the Reach can begin to simmer down." Marilda, who been bold since she learned how to walk in her father's shipyard at Hull, did not hesitate to supplement her case with a cutting remark. "Your brother Jacaerys was a wise man and not stubborn. Forgive me for saying this, but you are acting unwisely and are being stubborn."
Lucerys fixed the old woman with a steely glare. Alyn looked between his half-brother and his mother with wary eyes. Marilda was fifty-three years old, the same age as Luke's own mother, and she feared nothing and no one, a trait both her sons had inherited from her. She looked Luke straight in the eyes unflinchingly without a trace a fear.
"You think I am being unwise and stubborn, Marilda?" Lucerys asked, his voice sounding ominous.
"Yes," Marilda replied simply. She dropped her gaze only to pour herself some watered wine from a silver flagon. "I think you are. I think we are all being unwise and stubborn by remaining here."
"My brother's killer remains at large, Marilda," Lucerys reiterated in a low menacing voice.
"And once more, Aemond has vanished without a trace," Marilda countered again; her tone dangerously rebellious against a man who outranked her greatly. "Neither capturing your uncle nor leaving the Reach without him will bring Jacaerys back. If Aemond has fled Westeros entirely, then it is highly probable that he will never return. He will most likely end his life as a fugitive somewhere in Essos like the Dothraki Sea, Slaver's Bay, Yi Ti, wherever.
Nothing more can be done here. We need to go back to the Crownlands."
A knock at the door disrupted the conversation, and Lucerys bid the visitor entry. It was Stone Cask's castellan. He was a tall and strapping man dressed in grey and red. Following him into the solar was House Redwyne's captain of the guards, and with him were six guardsmen. Both the captain and the six guards wore visorless bascinets, but when it came to bodily protection, the guards wore suits of chainmail armor and leather brigandines that were painted ocean blue and burgundy purple while the captain wore a dark blue cape and a steel breastplate with a collar that was embossed with a ring of grape clusters. He also wielded a longsword while each of his men wielded fauchards (a spear with a blade that's curved like a scythe). The Velaryon's could only stare confusingly at the unexpected guests as they came up to their end of the table.
"What is all this?" asked a confused Luke. Alyn, Marilda, and the three knights all exchanged perplexed glances as the castellan and guards surrounded them. The castellan bowed to Lucerys and nodded his head respectfully towards the prince's five retainers.
"Pardon the intrusion this morning, my lords, sers, and lady, but I am afraid that a rather pressing matter has to be brought to your attention."
"What sort of matter, ser?" Although he did not appear so externally, Luke was starting to feel alarmed here. Concern was starting to grow quickly within everyone else, too. The castellan was silent for a moment before he finally spoke.
"The matter of your arrest, my lord. Arresting you all in the name of King Jaehaerys Targaryen the Second of His Name."
The castellan's statement hit the Lord of the Tides and his retainers harder than any slap in face could. All sound seemed to stop, and the pleasant sea and rose scented air became heavy and oppressive. A collective "What" blew out of the gaping mouths of the six souls standing at the table. The castellan looked around at the five men and one woman before he resumed speaking.
"I am afraid that what I have said is true, my lords and lady. King Jaehaerys was crowned earlier this morning in front of the Starry Sept in Oldtown."
"What? What?" sputtered Luke before his fire was finally reignited. "What in the name of the Seven is going on!? Why is my cousin calling himself king? Has he gone mad!?"
"What more do you know?" demanded the equally irate Alyn. "Spill it out, man!"
"Jaehaerys has been part of the search from the very beginning," piped up Marilda. "Why would he do this? Why would he betray us? Betray his aunt and cousins?"
"And you are all traitors for helping him!" roared Ser Luthor Waters.
"If you want Prince Lucerys," announced Ser Isyk Follard, who made his way towards the prince along with Ser Brandon Quince with Luthor following suit, "then you lot will have to try and get through us first."
"And we won't go down without a fight," added Ser Quince. Every male in the Velaryon retinue drew their blades then. The six guardsmen aimed the tips of their fauchards at the six men as the captain drew his sword. Marilda stood behind her son for her own safety. The mounting tension in the room was interrupted by the sound of Arrax roaring from the castle courtyard through the veranda, which was soon followed by the distant sounding roar of another dragon.
"The king is here," the captain of the guards announced. He then turned to address his men. "Seize them!"
The guardsmen advanced, their fauchards pointed menacingly at their targets. None of the Velaryon's were wearing armor, but this gave them advantage of being quicker on their feet in comparison to the Redwyne guards. Fauchards gave the guards a longer range of attack, but if the armed Velaryon's could bypass that, they could deliver a grievous if not killing blow to the men's unprotected faces. The captain was standing behind his men with the castellan, so there was six against six in this battle. An even match.
One guard made a swipe towards Ser Quince's knees, who quickly stepped back and blocked the next swipe with his sword, causing a terrible clangor to ring out after the two blades connected. Ser Follard came to his friend's rescue by bringing his sword down on the fauchard's shaft with enough force to cut it in half. His efforts were rewarded with another fauchard being thrusted towards his neck, the blade passing through his throat and out the back of his neck.
"Isyk!" Luke shouted. Isyk's eyes rolled up to the back of his head and he fell to his knees. Furious over losing one of his former squires, Luke, risking his own life, broke from the defensive line to seize the fauchard and drag its owner towards him so that he could stab him in the face with his sword. No sooner had the prince grasped the wooden shaft did the curved edge of another fauchard appear and slash down from below his left wrist to just above his elbow.
Wine red blood poured forth from the small gash almost immediately. Not feeling any pain at first, Luke only gasped in surprise. He quickly let go of the wooden shaft, held his injured arm close to his chest and quickly backed away, but not before deflecting another incoming slash from the same polearm. Alyn avenged his half-brother by swinging his sword into the offending guard's face. Visorless bascinet's do not have nose guards, so the edge of Alyn's blade cut through the bridge of the unlucky guard's nose and eyes and sliced into his brain.
The guard fell down dead with his weapon still in his hands after Alyn removed his sword from his face. Blood had been spilled and two lives had been lost in the course of this attempted arrest. There was no going back now. Hungry for vengeance, both sides clashed, filling the solar with the sounds of screaming men and steel striking steel. Marilda, not wanting to be a damsel in distress, ran over to the desk to take Manfryd's bust to use as a weapon.
"Aah!"
Hearing her son's pained scream, Marilda saw that Alyn just had his right cheek slashed open. Motherly fury coursing through her veins, Marilda ran into the fray with the bust in her hands screaming curses at the man who had just injured her son. She ran around a cut ridden and bloody Ser Waters to swing the bust down hard on the back of the head of Alyn's attacker. The blow was delivered with enough force to leave a dent on the guard's bascinet, concussing him. Seeing his chance, Alyn, who was clutching his injured cheek with his left hand, drove his sword through the guard's face, killing him instantly.
"You bitch!" shouted the captain of the guards, who then raced towards Marilda intent on cutting her down. Alyn got between his mother and the charging captain, and a vicious swordfight ensued. Taking note of Marilda's ingenuity, Luke grabbed a book from a nearby bookcase and threw it at an attacking guard with his injured arm. The guard sidestepped the flying book, but Luke took his chance and rushed the guard before he turned around and pointed the fauchard at him. Once he was close enough, Luke kicked the man down and stabbed him in the neck.
Ser Quince collapsed after receiving a deft strike to his inner thigh, which had cut open his femoral artery, and Brandon bled to death within minutes after he was wounded. Exhausted as he was from fighting with Brandon, the guard made his way towards Luke when a woman's scream resounded, which was followed by a wet gurgling sound. The gurgling came from the captain of the guards. At some point during his fierce dual with Alyn, Marilda, who did not want to risk getting too close to the captain, put down the bust and grabbed a chair to hit the man with to help her son. Aiming the four legs at the captain of the guards, the bold Marilda began swinging at him with the chair. Furious at the old woman for her constant meddling, the captain of the guards turned his attention on her, and he slashed at the chair's legs before driving his sword through the bottom of it hoping to get at Marilda.
This is what caused Marilda to scream. She let go of the chair, and its weight caused the captain to drop his sword. Seeing his chance, Alyn dropped his own sword and unsheathed his dagger before charging the captain before he could retaliate further against his mother. Grabbing the captain's face with one hand, Alyn proceeded to violently stab and cut the man's face over and over again in a frenzy. By the time Alyn was done with the captain, the latter's face was a bloody, unrecognizable wreck: both eyes cut to ragged bits, teeth broken or knocked out, holes made in cheeks and forehead, blood everywhere...
It wasn't long before the captain of the guards slipped from Alyn's grasp and fell down to the floor dead. Leaderless, exhausted, and traumatized by the fight, the two remaining guards slowly backed away. The castellan was the first to turn and run.
"Forget them! The king's men will deal with them!"
The two guardsmen followed suit. The three men left behind a bloodbath. Four dead Redwyne guardsmen, one of them being the captain of the guards, and two dead Velaryon knights lay in bloody, crumpled heaps on the floor. The four survivors: Lucerys, Alyn, Marilda, and Luthor, panted and tried to process what had just happened. Luke had slumped down a wall holding his left wrist in his right hand. Alyn pulled out a chair to sit on, still holding his right cheek in his hand.
Ser Waters and Marilda were the only two left standing, although the former was covered with a myriad of cuts; everyone but Marilda had cut wounds on their bodies. Marilda went around examining the men's wounds. Alyn's injury was the first she checked. It was nasty; if Alyn's cheek had been cut any deeper his teeth would have been exposed. Alyn's left hand was painted red with blood from cradling his cheek. Needing something to soak the blood up with, Marilda took her son's dagger and cut off a large piece of cloth from the dead captain of the guards' cape.
Balling up the cloth, Marilda gave it to Alyn and instructed him to hold it to his wound and stop the bleeding as best he could. Ser Waters' bled from multiple cut wounds, but his injuries were not too deep or potentially life threatening, so Marilda only gave him some wine to try and steady his nerves. Examining Luke's injured left arm, she cut off a long strip from the cape and wrapped it around the prince's arm. Lacking firemilk and the means to boil wine to treat wounds with, Luke and Alyn had to make do with their cloth bandages and hope that their wounds did not get infected by the time they received proper medical attention. But before then, an even bigger battle loomed over the Velaryon's.
Arrax was heard to still be roaring. Gods knew what was going on outside of Stone Cask. Adding to that, there was also the high possibility of more guards coming despite what the castellan had said.
"We need to leave now," Marilda said as she made a quick glance at the door. "The castellan could come back with reinforcements. We can all leave here by the veranda stairs. Come. Let's go. Now!"
Marilda's energy, combined with the direness of their predicament, motivated the men to move. Luthor threw his nearly empty wine cup aside, creating a loud clatter, as he followed Marilda. Clutching at their wounds, Lucerys and Alyn ran towards the staircase. The four stuck together as they made their escape through the garden and down the hallway that they hoped would take them to the courtyard where Arrax was. Stone Cask is a relatively small castle, but the stress of the Velaryon's predicament made the hallways seem longer and more confusing than they were, and anxiety was rife amongst the four.
Strangely, no servants were encountered in the hallways, hiding no doubt. Guards were present but not too many, and the few guards that the Velaryon's encountered along the way didn't dare confront them after seeing how battered, bloody, and armed they were. Though why confront the quartet while a large host could take care of them? The increasing volume of Arrax's roaring let the party know that they were getting closer to the dragon. It also meant that they were getting closer to more hostile forces, too.
Shade greeted the four when they rushed outside into the courtyard. Arrax was chained in the middle of the yard. He shuffled about on the stones, his big green snout pointed skyward as anxious snorts and hisses rumbled out of his jaws. A din of raised voices washed over into the courtyard from Ryamsport, and the Velaryon's could see pillars of thick, black smoke wafting up into the sky. Two unmistakable roars sounded from beyond the castle walls – the roar of a dragon and the roar of dragonflame as it was being breathed out.
The thought that the Velaryon Fleet was being set aflame flashed simultaneously in the minds of the Velaryon's. Lucerys was the first to act. Pulling out a key from a pouch attached to his belt, the prince went around to the locks that bound Arrax's chains in place and he unlocked them as quickly as he could. Arrax flapped his wings, flicked his tail, and growled anxiously after he was released, desirous to investigate the commotion that was going on outside of Stone Cask. Lucerys climbed onto Arrax's back as soon as the last chain hit the ground.
He had never ridden Arrax without a saddle or reins before, but Lucerys put aside the discomfort he felt riding bareback to give out orders to his half-brother and remaining retainers.
"Get to the docks! Once you arrive there, Alyn, lead whatever is left of the fleet into battle against the Hightower's. Marilda, if the Mouse has not been burned, sail her back to King's Landing with Ser Follard to inform my mother what has happened here. Isyck, escort Alyn and Marilda to the docks and board the Mouse. I will have Arrax clear the way for you before I confront my cousin. Now, let's go!"
Arrax flapped his wings again, harder this time, and a large cloud of dust filled the courtyard like a sandstorm. Arrax took flight as Alyn, Marilda, and Isyck shielded their faces from the dust. None of them said a thing, but they nodded their heads in solidarity to follow Luke's orders and took off out of the courtyard. The dragon flew low and let out a torrent of green flames onto the parapets, turrets, and ground to burn and disperse the guards who were present. Alyn held his mother close to him as they maneuvered around the fire and terrified guardsmen with Isyck following closely behind them.
Flying over Stone Cask's main gate, Luke's brown eyes were greeted by a frightening scene. First, his eyes were drawn to Ryamsport's docks and harbor, where six Velaryon ships and counting were burning. The ships that weren't burning were trying to do battle against the Hightower Fleet, whose numbers had been supplemented by ships from the Redwyne Fleet. Another roar sounded, and Luke saw Shrykos appear from behind a wall of smoke. Sunlight flashed off the silver-gold hair of Shrykos's rider after they flew away from the smoke, and Luke's heart nearly stopped at the sight.
Disbelief and pain gripped Luke at first when he realized that what the castellan had said was true and that he and his family had been betrayed. But then the anger set in, and it spread through the prince like the very fires that were consuming the vessels of his fleet and threatened to burn Ryamsport's docks.
"Damned traitor!" growled Prince Lucerys, and he had Arrax fly in the direction towards the Redwyne Straits. Luke huddled down and held on tightly to his dragon, hoping and praying that he would not fall during the battle due to the lack of a harness and chain. As soon as Arrax's shadow glided onto the water, he roared, and Jaehaerys and Shrykos heard it. The pretender looked over his shoulder and realized that the worst-case scenario had happened.
"Curse it all..." Jaehaerys mumbled under his breath. He urged Shrykos on towards Arrax with her teeth bared and dragonfire ready to spew forth, a demeanor that Arrax soon copied. The time it took to reach the moment of impact felt like an eternity to Lucerys and Jaehaerys, almost like waiting for an autumn leaf to land on the ground. But to the chaotic world outside of the two men's orbits, the clash occurred as quickly as a dropped coin falling to the floor. Jets of green and grey flames shot out from the jaws of Arrax and Shrykos and collided with one another.
Cousin against cousin. Dragon against dragon. Fire and Blood. All for the Iron Throne. The first battle of the Dance of the Dragons had commenced.
Aemond, who was pulling his sword out of the chest of a Velaryon soldier when Lucerys and Jaehaerys confronted each other, looked up into the sky when he heard the two roars and the boom of their fires colliding. Alyn, Marilda, and Luthor couldn't help but look up when they the two dragons started battling each other as they were reaching the docks. Awestruck as he was by the jaw dropping sight, Alyn noticed a burning ship floating aimlessly down the strait. Coming back to his senses and remembering what he had been ordered to do, Alyn spurred his mother and Ser Waters into action, and they raced for their ships before they too were set alight. "Please don't be on fire... Please don't be on fire..." Alyn and Marilda intoned aloud as they ran for their ships.
While his half-brother and retainers were trying to avoid fire, Lucerys was using it to fight against Jaehaerys. The fiery jets that poured out of Arrax and Shrykos's jaws were nearly hot and blinding as the sun, and Luke and the pretender both shielded their eyes and grit their teeth in response to the sensation of their skin getting singed. Relief came immediately once the dragons exhausted their flames, but the battle didn't stop there. Arrax struck first, lunging towards Shrykos's neck with his teeth, which were as long as broadswords. Shrykos was quicker though, and she dodged her opponent's teeth by pulling her neck back.
Shrykos was smaller than Arrax, but this gave her the advantage of being quicker than her opponent, who was bigger and thus slower to act. Shrykos dove quickly around Arrax's left before he could snap at her again. She flew up at Arrax's tail end and opened her great big maw. But before Shrykos could breathe fire or bite Lucerys, Arrax looked over his left shoulder and released a geyser of dragonfire from his mouth. The green flames hit Shrykos right in the face, blinding her temporarily.
Shrykos let out a pained shriek as the heat of the flames singed her eyes, and she closed her eyes tightly and shook her head to try and dispel the pain. Seeing his chance, Arrax lunged towards Shrykos with an open mouth and clamped down hard on her left shoulder.
"Crush it! Break it! Rip her wing off!" Lucerys chanted mentally as he watched Arrax apply more pressure on Shrykos's shoulder. Deafening shrieks rang out from Shrykos as her opponent's teeth dug deeper into her flesh and crushed the bones in her shoulder.
Jaehaerys panicked when Arrax's teeth sank into his dragon's shoulder and how deep crimson blood had welled up from the wound. Unsheathing Blackfyre, Jaehaerys stabbed at Arrax's snout with the sword's tip to force him to let go of Shrykos. Arrax grunted from pain as he was being stabbed, but this only made him apply even more pressure on Shrykos. Desperate, Jaehaerys gripped Blackfyre's handle with both hands and plunged the tip of the sword as hard as he could into a new target – Arrax's mouth. The Valyrian Steel pierced through the scales and flesh of Arrax's lip and gums and into the bone of his upper jaw.
Pain surged through Arrax's upper jaw, and he released Shrykos's mangled and bloody shoulder with a pained screech. The pretender king would have been pulled out of his saddle if it weren't for the chains that strapped him in, and Blackfyre would have slipped out of his grasp if it weren't for Jaehaerys's vice like grip. Shrykos was still capable of flight, but it was clear that flapping her left wing was painful, and she was bleeding heavily from her shoulder injury. Close quarters combat had proven to be an unwise move against the stronger Arrax. Shrykos should use her speed to her advantage and snipe at her opponent with fire, teeth, and claws, and there was also the glaring fact that the Lord of the Tides was not at all chained to his mount.
Maybe a few feats of aerial maneuvering could result in Luke falling from Arrax's back? Jaehaerys had Shrykos beat her wings to send a gust of air into Arrax's face before diving down and flying towards the smoke that emitted from the burning ships. Lucerys ordered Arrax to follow suit. The prince was even angrier than before when he saw that Jaehaerys was wielding Blackfyre, and Luke was determined more than ever to defeat him and reclaim the sword that now belonged to his older brother's sons and grandson. Luke held on tightly to Arrax's neck as the dragon beat his wings and dove down after Shrykos.
Shrykos careened here and there to avoid the burning ships while Arrax charged after her determined and unafraid of singeing the tips of his wings. Both dragons banked left as they made a sharp curve over the harbor towards the Hightower Fleet. Just as Shrykos's shadow was about to touch the first ship, Jaehaerys had her fly swiftly upward. Arrax followed suit. Seconds into Arrax's skyward climb, Luke remembered that he was not harnessed to Arrax, and he quickly commanded his dragon to descend.
Exhaling deeply with relief that he had not fallen into Jaehaerys's trap, Luke looked up and saw that Shrykos was circling above him. She was probably going to descend soon to try and pull off a similar stunt again. Just as Luke turned his face away from the sky, he saw an arrow flying towards him, and he quickly jerked his body to the right to evade the projectile. More arrows followed, and several of them pierced Arrax's wings, chest, and neck. The arrows came from bowmen who were stationed on three Hightower ships that were nearby, no doubt assigned to contend with Arrax if he were to appear.
Arrax hissed with pained irritation. Arrows were to dragons as splinters were to humans. Regardless, these bowmen had to be dealt with. Lucerys urged Arrax on, and the dragon flew into the fray as his rider ducked down to be safe. "Dracarys!" commanded Lucerys, and Arrax bathed the bowmen and ships in glorious green dragonfire.
The traitor Jaehaerys had burned three Velaryon ships, and what better way to get back at him by burning the same number of his own vessels. The few bowmen who had avoided the fire abandoned ship, and they struggled to stay afloat as their armor weighed them down. Jaehaerys shadowed his cousin from above, frowning deeply at the sight of his burning ships. He had Shrykos dive down towards Arrax as the dragon set the third Hightower ship aflame. Shrykos had the element of surprise on her side since Arrax was preoccupied with breathing dragonfire onto the ship, and Luke could not hear Shrykos's flapping wings due to the loud roar of the dragonfire as it was being breathed out.
Once she was within range, Shrykos unleashed a jet of grey flames at Arrax's head. As soon as the flames cleared, Shrykos lunged towards her opponent's thrashing head with wide open jaws and clamped down hard on the right side of his face. It was now Shrykos's turn to crush, break, and rip. Her jaws bore down hard on Arrax's skull, and Shrykos's teeth became embedded in the bone. The pressure she used was so great that her jaws broke Arrax's orbital bone and mandible, and his right eye got punctured by Shrykos's top teeth.
Half-muffled roars of pain flowed out of the left side of Arrax's mouth as his bones broke from the pressure. Shrykos, with her jaws firmly clamped onto Arrax's face, moved her body in closer to her opponent's so that she could rake his belly with her claws. But her claws left only small cuts on Arrax's belly when he was able to extricate himself from her jaws and dig his own claws into Shrykos's belly. Arrax's claws were bigger and sharper than Shrykos's, and those claws slit the she-dragon's belly like a knife cutting open a fish, lacerating her abdominal wall and insides. It was Shrykos's turn to roar in pain, but when she tried to lunge towards her opponent's face again, Arrax swung his head sideways towards her with his horns aimed for her face.
His left horn went through both of Shrykos's cheeks, but since her mouth was open then, the horn only pierced flesh and no bone. Arrax pulled his horn out and to try and attack Shrykos again when she lunged for him again. This time, Shrykos's attack was successful, and she clamped her jaws around Arrax's throat. Adrenaline and fury drowned out the pain Shrykos felt from her wounded mouth and belly, and it did not take long for her to rip Arrax's throat out. It was the coup de grace.
Leaking blood like a broken wine cask from his mangled and disfigured face and scratched up belly already, even more blood began pouring out from between Arrax's teeth. A death rattle soon resonated from Arrax, his body went limp in midair, and he fell into the water below. The force of the impact caused Lucerys to fall off his dragon and into harbor, which was quickly turning red from Arrax's blood. Lucerys burst through the blue and red surface, inhaling deeply and grabbing ahold of Arrax's wing to stay afloat. A dragon roared, and Luke turned to see that Shrykos was flying back to the Arbor.
There were more clouds of black smoke billowing from the harbor, coming mostly from the Velaryon ships. Admiral Alyn Velaryon had done his best to try and mount a counterattack against the Hightower's and Redwyne's, but it was too little, too late. He and what remained of his crew were able to successfully board and overtake the Lady Patricia, but their own vessel was ambushed by a ship belonging to the Redwyne Fleet, and the soldiers cut a bloody swathe on both the Velaryon and Hightower decks. Alyn, high on battle fever and the desire to avenge his fleet, fought valiantly and fearlessly, quickly cutting down men left and right (about fourteen slain) before a crossbow bolt to the throat brought him to his knees. Alyn was spared the indignity of choking to death on his own blood by a Hightower solider, who, with a battle-axe in hand, chopped into the admiral's unprotected skull.
Oblivious to her youngest son's fate, Marilda was able to escape, maneuvering the Mouse out of the harbor and down the Redwyne Straits for King's Landing as quickly as the wind would take her. Ser Luthor Waters was rooted to the Mouse's stern as the ship pulled out from the harbor to watch in muted horror as the carnage of the Battle of the Arbor unfolded. He wished that he could have stayed on the Arbor to fight for the prince, but Luthor was loyal, and he followed Luke's orders to the letter. Besides, obeying the order to stay with Marilda saved Luthor's life. Well, for now anyway.
Following the deaths of Arrax and Admiral Alyn Velaryon, the first battle of the Dance ended in a Green victory. A victory that came with great cost. Countless ships both Black and Green smoldered in the sparkling blue harbor outside of Ryamsport, their number eclipsed by the numerous corpses that bobbed up and down in the waves, their deaths caused either by battle wounds, fire, or drowning. Ryamsport fared little better. Some of the docks had been burned by Shrykos's flames (collateral damage), or had been set alight by a burning ship that had drifted too close to them, and the streets ran red with blood and were littered with bodies.
The normally salt smelling air now reeked of blood, sweat, and smoke. Jaehaerys had Shrykos land on a nearby beach for her to rest after their harrowing fight with Arrax. Dragon blood stained the golden sand and left large red spots as the sand absorbed the red liquid. Men rushed out to meet with the pretender to see if he was alright. Jaehaerys was physically unscathed, but it was clear that he was in a state of emotional turmoil, his face twisted with great worry as he took in the sight of his dragon's wounds.
Out in the Straits, meanwhile, Luke rested his head on Arrax's wing. Except for the sound of the moving waves and the din of the battle's aftermath, all was quiet as the Lord of the Tides mourned the death of his dragon. Lucerys was lost. All he had to look forward to now was either capture or suicide. The prince strongly considered letting go of Arrax and letting himself sink to the bottom of the Strait, but he couldn't even find the courage to do so, and so he stayed afloat in the bloody water under the hot sun. Not even the sound of approaching voices goaded Luke into drowning himself.
A fishing boat had been commandeered by the Greens to be used to collect Luke, and the prince was grabbed by two pairs of strong arms that belonged to Redwyne soldiers, and they hoisted Lucerys out of the water and onto the deck of the boat. He did not fight back. What would have been the point? Upon reaching the few remaining docks, Lucerys was seized once again and marched onto the adjacent beach. Waiting for Lucerys were not only Jaehaerys II and Shrykos, but also Willem and Myles Hightower, Lord Redwyne, and worst of all, Prince Aemond Targaryen.
Seeing his fugitive half-uncle sparked life back into Lucerys, and he struggled against his captors in an attempt to attack Aemond, who watched this all unfold with a smug, arrogant smile on his face. The rest of the men looked grim.
"Bastard," shouted Lucerys as he struggled. "You are the cause of all of this!"
Aemond's smile disappeared, and he looked darkly stern. "No, I did not." He walked over towards Lucerys after he been forced onto the ground by a kick to the back of his legs by one of the soldiers. "Your stupid grandfather caused all of this by naming your fat whore of a mother as his heir instead of my brother, and he accepted you and your bastard brothers as legitimate when you all are clearly the fruit of Ser Harwin Strong's loins. We have all been made to accept what is wrong as right, and to view what is right as being wrong."
"You killed my brother!" screamed Lucerys. Aemond snorted in contempt.
"One less Strong in the world," Aemond replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
Luke roared and rose to his feet, only for Aemond to rush him and land a powerful punch to his chest just like he did with Maelor. Luke crumpled down to the sand gasping for breath.
"Ha! You deserve far worse, bastard!" sneered Aemond. His sneer vanished as he walked toward Luke and knelt down before him, replacing his previous expression with a sadistic smile. Using his left hand to roughly hold Luke's head up, Aemond pulled out his dagger and brought it up to his half-nephew's face.
"Uncle Aemond, stop!" Jaehaerys shouted. Aemond looked over his shoulder, angry that he was being interrupted by his nephew the king. "Don't kill him! We need to use Luke as a hostage."
"I'm not going to kill him, Jaehaerys," Aemond stated, doing his best to not roll his eye. "I just want to cut his eye out. I have been dreaming of doing this to him for thirty years since the Red Spring. An eye for an eye." Aemond's sapphire eye glimmered in the sun.
"He will be spared for your sake, your grace, as well as for the sake of my lady wife. Poor Daenaera will lament Luke's death, and I wish not to break her heart. Do I have your leave now to seek vengeance for my lost right eye, my king?"
Jaehaerys looked from his uncle to his half-cousin. Mentally exhausted from the battle, Jaehaerys nodded silently. Lucerys turned pale as the corners of Aemond's lips rose. Turning around, a sadistic grin once again on his face, Aemond took his dagger and began the gruesome business of cutting out Lucerys's right eye. The king and his men flinched at the sound of Luke's hair-raising screams of pain, and felt queasy when they heard the gory sounds of an eye being cut out of its socket.
The blinding did not take long, although Aemond took great pleasure in dragging the dagger's blade across the bone of Luke's eye socket as he went about his nauseating work. "Yes," Aemond cried out triumphantly after the eye was out. Luke's head fell and he vomited, blood dripping out of his now empty right eye socket. Vomit splattered on Aemond's bent knee, but he didn't mind, nor did he seem to notice. Admiring the small, bloody orb he held in his fingers for about a minute, a satisfied Aemond then rose to his feet and casually tossed the eye into the surf as if it were a pebble.
Aemond may have avenged himself, but the Battle of the Arbor itself was one small step towards the Greens' vengeance for being denied the Iron Throne. And Seven Above, there would be many, many more bloody steps to take after this one if the Greens wanted to achieve that goal. The next two were taking place at Honeyholt and Horn Hill at that very moment...
Luke went through the wringer in this chapter, didn't he? Gets his left arm slashed open, loses two of his former squires, dragon, and finally, his right eye is put out by Aemond. Adding on to that, Luke will later learn that his half-brother is dead now, too. Poor Marilda and Addam... This was my first original large-scale battle scene.
I hope you all enjoyed it. Next up, the Battle of Honeyholt. Stay tuned!