I do not own this story. I am just playing in the world that great authors have written and created.
CH 2
The stench of death and burnt flesh hit me hard as I made my way through the wreckage. It was a horrifying scene, but for some twisted reason, I couldn't help but feel a sick satisfaction. The screams of the wounded and dying echoed in my ears like a twisted melody, and the sight of blood and gore was like a messed-up masterpiece. I couldn't deny that my reaction was messed up, but I couldn't resist it either. My connection to the surroundings had sharpened through my meditation practices, and it gave me some messed-up pleasure from witnessing and experiencing such brutality. It was like an addictive drug, the rush of adrenaline that came with violence and destruction.
As I walked through the battlefield, I couldn't help but feel proud of my soldiers. They had fought bravely and successfully taken down a bunch of Targaryen troops with minimal losses. It was a sight that caught the attention of all the allied forces. The air was thick with smoke and the unmistakable smell of blood, but the sounds of victory drowned out everything else. I approached my men, who were gathered around a small fire, and congratulated them on their win. They cheered and raised their weapons in triumph.
I spotted my uncle Rickard Ryswell sitting outside the village's sept, munching on a delicious roasted chicken. He had this smug look on his face as he glanced disdainfully at his companion, who seemed to be from the Vale. I couldn't help but laugh as I walked over to him, expressing my joy at his well-being and his never-ending appetite. "Where the hell did you find that chicken, Uncle?" I asked, grinning from ear to ear. In between bites, he casually tossed the mostly stripped bones to the Vale men, wiped the grease off his gambeson, and made some vague comment about finding it in a random kitchen. Then he strolled towards me for a warm embrace. "Little Leo," he said, "your father wants you to know that they're gathering in the sept to figure out what to do next." He grinned at me and added, "You should go in there and see what the southerners are cooking up."
As I stepped into the bustling septic, my bodyguards at my side, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The room was packed with people, making it difficult to maneuver. I quickly signaled to my protectors to cover the entrances, ensuring our safety before I continued on.
My eyes scanned the room, taking in the chaotic scene before me. Amidst the throng of people, my attention was immediately drawn to a figure that could only be Robert Baratheon. The boisterous man held a wine bottle in his hand, taking frequent swigs while he engaged in conversation with Lord Tully. Lord Tully, on the other hand, sat on a cushioned bench, supported by pillows, while a Maester tended to his various injuries.
As I walked into the septic, a wave of people surrounded me, making it difficult to navigate through the crowd. Realizing I needed some space, I signaled to my bodyguards to cover the doors and make sure no one followed me. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I surveyed the scene before me.
Amidst the chaos, my eyes landed on a familiar figure: Robert Baratheon, the boisterous and larger-than-life Lord. He held a wine bottle in his hand, taking frequent sips as he engaged in a lively conversation with Lord Tully. Lord Tully himself sat on a bench, propped up by pillows, while a Maester tended to his injuries with great care.
As I made my way towards them, I noticed a group of Northern lords gathered around my grandfather. On his right stood my uncle Ned, alongside Jon Arryn and several Vale lords. It seemed that Lord Tully had a plan in mind. I caught snippets of their conversation as I approached, realizing that Lord Tully had expressed his desire for both Ned and Jon to return to Riverrun. He suggested that Ned marry Catelyn, while Jon marry Lyssa. In addition, Lord Tully wanted to merge his forces with ours and personally join us as we marched towards King's Landing, the capital city.
I reminded my uncle Ned that in the contract we signed, it explicitly stated that his wedding ceremony had to take place in the enchanting god's woods, rather than the traditional seven gods' setting. It was crucial that Catelyn converted to the old gods, as her father had agreed. Deep down, I knew this would infuriate Catelyn, but to be honest, I had included this condition in the contract solely to bring them grief. I couldn't help but relish the thought of watching them argue, giving me the perfect opportunity to tarnish Ned's reputation in the eyes of the northern lords and turn them against him.
Ultimately, it was decided that Ned and Jon would proceed with the marriage while Robert recovered from his drunken state and healed his wounds. This break also allowed our men to rest and recuperate before our upcoming rendezvous near the Trident. In a move that could easily be dismissed due to my youth, I intentionally chose not to attend Ned and Catelyn's wedding ceremony. Instead, I took advantage of the free time to slowly cast spells upon Robert's vulnerable mind. I carefully guided his thoughts, subtly influencing his opinions to align with mine. Though I was aware these spells wouldn't last forever, I was confident they would hold for at least a year.
Being left alone with a half-drunk or fully intoxicated Robert was a blessing in disguise. It granted me ample time to intricately weave the spells over his weakened and defenseless mind. Additionally, it didn't escape my notice that Robert was engaging in multiple affairs with women. I wanted the northern lords to witness his reckless behavior, viewing him as the fool and drunkard that he truly was. I would subtly whisper into their ears, planting seeds of doubt about Ned's decision to marry my aunt to a man like Robert. Gradually, I would leave trails of thoughts, subtly hinting at how Ned had chosen Robert over his own sister and brother.
After a solid week of treating Robert, he started to see me as some kind of genius. It wasn't really a surprise since he already thought highly of me just because I was associated with Uncle Ned. But now, he was seeking me out for long chats and the other storm lords found it pretty amusing. They saw him as this doting uncle figure, spoiling his favorite nephew.
000
Fast forward five weeks and we were setting up camp just a quarter-mile away from the Trident. The camp was nestled in a picturesque clearing, surrounded by towering trees that swayed gently in the breeze. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant sound of birds chirping. We had chosen this spot strategically, as it provided a natural barrier between us and the Targaryens.
With the help of my grandfather, a seasoned war strategist, I had put together a force of 7000 men. They were an impressive sight, their armor glinting in the dappled sunlight. We made sure they were practically invisible, using all kinds of charms and spells to stay hidden. The forest acted as our ally, providing cover and protection.
Our men were cleverly positioned in the thick forest on the right side of the Trident. The trees loomed tall and dense, their branches intertwining to create a natural fortress. According to our maps, there was a shallow section of the river about a mile and a half upstream. So, I told my men to quietly approach the riverbank and cross it without attracting any attention. They moved like shadows, their footsteps muffled by the soft ground beneath them.
Once they made it across, their mission was to find cover in the forest and avoid any scouts the Targaryens might send out. The forest offered a labyrinth of hiding spots, with its thick undergrowth and twisted tree trunks. It was the perfect place to disappear into, like a ghost vanishing into thin air. Our men were trained to blend seamlessly with their surroundings, their green cloaks merging with the forest foliage.
As the sun began its descent, casting an orange glow across the horizon, our camp buzzed with anticipation. We were ready to strike, to show the Targaryens the true power of the storm lords. And deep down, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The weight of responsibility sat heavily on my shoulders, but I was determined to prove myself worthy of Robert's trust and admiration.
The night held its breath, waiting for the battle that was about to unfold. And in the midst of the darkness, our hidden army prepared to unleash its wrath upon the unsuspecting Targaryens.
Plus, I had this brilliant idea, right? I was like, "Why not send an extra 200 men to reinforce our side?" But here's the kicker - we didn't want the Targaryens to know how many soldiers we really had. So, we decided to be all sneaky and strategic about it. We positioned those extra men on the far-left side, making it look like they were trying to pull a fast one on the Targaryens. It was all part of our master plan to make them think they were outnumbered. Sneaky, huh?
Now, imagine this scene, right? On the other side of the river, the Targaryens had set up their camp. And let me tell you, it was a sight to behold. Flags and banners from all over Westeros were fluttering in the wind. You had the noble houses of Dorne, the Crownlands, and even a few from the Riverlands, all represented proudly. But above them all, those Targaryen flags stood tall and commanded attention.
And in the midst of all this, there was Jon Arryn, the fearless leader, along with my wise old grandfather, stepping forward to talk things out with the Targaryen forces. They were trying to negotiate a temporary truce, you know? Give both sides a breather. It was a chance for our troops to catch their breath, come up with some battle strategies, and coordinate their plans.
When my grandfather came back, he excitedly announced that a truce had been agreed upon until the next morning. Wanting to make the most of this ceasefire, I subtly encouraged the Vale lords to engage in a strategic debate. With my persuasive skills, I managed to convince Jon to position his forces on the far-left side. I also orchestrated a scenario where Robert and his forces were replaced in the middle-left position. I used my manipulative tactics on multiple Vale Lords, creating an illusion of pressure on the Northerners to place themselves on the far right side of the battle. At the same time, I urged the river landers to take the middle right position. As the plan unfolded, it became evident that the Vale lord and the storm lords were seen as the masterminds behind this battle strategy.
The following morning, everyone took their positions, eagerly awaiting the start of the battle. I found a spot that overlooked the upcoming clash and settled down in the grass, surrounded by my loyal bodyguards. We quickly constructed a makeshift shelter made of camouflage to keep me hidden. Closing my eyes, I visualized the battlefield, trying to anticipate the enemy army's movements. I focused on my breathing, letting my mind calm down and zeroing in on the task ahead. Although my heart raced with a mix of excitement and fear, I fought to maintain my concentration, visualizing the strategic maneuvers of our troops and disrupting the enemy's plans. Amidst the chaos and noise of the battlefield, I remained dedicated to my meditation, doing my best to guide our forces to victory.
So, using battle meditation, I had the Targaryen forces focus most of their troops on the Vale and the storm lenders. The battle was intense, with swords clashing and arrows flying through the air. The far right part of our northern forces started to push the flanks of the Targaryen forces back and to the left, gaining ground with each passing moment. The atmosphere was tense, but our army grew stronger and more confident as we fought.
As the battle raged on, it was clear that the enemy's defenses were beginning to crumble. The Targaryen troops were starting to falter, their lines breaking as our forces pressed forward. The Riverland troops, though taking heavy casualties, were given relief as the northern armies pushed in from the side. Just when it seemed like they were about to break and flee, a sudden surge of 7000 troops emerged from the woods behind the Targaryen forces. The sight was terrifying for them, causing panic and a desperate attempt to flee without putting up much of a fight. It turned into a brutal slaughter, with the Targaryen forces easily cut down as they tried to retreat.
In the midst of the chaos, Leon focused his efforts on giving mental fortitude to the storm lenders, urging them to hold their position as the Northerners turned to re-organize before coming to their aid. However, just as he was deeply engaged in the battle, a sudden disturbance shook him, causing him to visually shutter and lose connection with the battle for a moment. He quickly regained his focus, grasping at the threads of the battle and trying to make sense of what was happening.
With emotions running high, Leon followed the pattern of the battle, trying to pinpoint the source of the disturbance. It led him to the center of the river, where the clash between the Targaryen and Baratheon forces was the most intense. The sounds of clashing swords and battle cries filled the air as Leon prepared to confront whatever challenge lay ahead.
As the chaos of battle unfolded, he couldn't help but notice the Targaryen soldiers turning tail and fleeing in all directions. It was then that he realized the Targaryen Prince had met his demise. With the Northerners closing in from the side and encircling the loyalists, combined with the prince's death, panic spread like wildfire and the remaining loyalists started to scatter and run for their lives. However, a small group of die-hard loyalists refused to surrender and stood their ground, ready to fight till the bitter end. It was a valiant but futile effort, and they had to be forcefully subdued.
Meanwhile, Robert, who had sustained injuries in his duel with Rhaegar, was in desperate need of medical attention. Fortunately, there were plenty of healers around, and they swiftly brought him to a tent set up as a makeshift infirmary. As the day wore on, the sun began to descend in the sky, casting a warm orange glow over the camp. It was around late afternoon when the northern Lords, having suffered the least casualties, gathered in his tent for a meeting.
With so many attendees, the tent became cramped, so they decided to open up the flaps and move most of the gathering outside. They set up a grand tent pavilion, under which they placed a camp bed for Robert's comfort. It was a sight to behold, with banners fluttering in the wind and the flickering glow of torches illuminating the surrounding area. The scent of smoke and sweat filled the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and murmured conversations. It was a moment of respite amidst the chaos, a chance for the Lords to regroup and discuss their next moves in this intricate game of thrones.
So, we were all gathered together, the lords from the Vale, Stormlands, and Riverlands joining us. The death of Rhaegar had sparked serious discussions about what our next move should be. Sure, there had been some talk and whispers before, but this was different - this was the first time we were seriously considering Robert taking the crown, and it seemed like more and more lords were in support of it.
It all started with the Stormlands lords, who boldly declared Robert as their King. The Vale lords quickly followed suit, and soon after, the Riverlands lords joined in. With all eyes on him, it was only a matter of time before Ned took his turn in the spotlight. And just as I expected, he got up, ready to declare his support for Robert.
But I couldn't let that happen without a challenge. As the representative of the North, I stood up and made it clear that we did not recognize the legitimacy of a Baratheon on the iron throne. The room fell into a tense silence as several lords glared at me, their anger evident. But then, their attention shifted to my grandfather, who sat beside me, a commanding presence in his own right. They noticed that the northern Lords were still armed and armored, their sheathed blades a clear symbol of their loyalty and strength.
Ned, who seemed like he wanted to speak up, was silenced by a single glare from my grandfather. The weight of the northern Lords' support was enough to make him back down. It was clear that negotiations were necessary, so I called upon Lord Marmot, Lord Rodrik Ryswell, Lord Umber, and Lord Karstark to stay by my side and help in the discussions with Jon and Robert, as well as their vassal lords.
And so, with tensions high and the fate of the realm hanging in the balance, we began the delicate task of finding common ground and forging alliances that would shape the future of Westeros.
So, using my compulsion paper, Robert and I reached an agreement. We both acknowledged that the north was technically part of the realm, but in reality, we were independent. We didn't need to be called kings, so we settled for the title of princes, turning our region into a principality. As a result, I was no longer addressed as Lord Stark, but as Prince Leon. My uncles were also given the title of princes, but their children wouldn't inherit it. Only the children from the main line would have that distinction.
One of the major benefits of this agreement was that we had the freedom to raise and maintain our own military force without seeking permission from the throne. Additionally, we were granted control over the New Gift, a territory that was previously given to the Night's Watch. The best part? We were exempted from paying taxes to the iron throne. It was a significant relief for our people.
I was also given the authority to legitimize or promote/demote any house within my territory without any interference from the iron throne. This meant that my decisions would hold weight throughout the rest of Westeros. Furthermore, we established a mutual support system. I pledged to support Robert during times of war, and in return, he was obligated to assist us, even if it meant going against his own kingdom or any other faction that threatened the North.
Religion was also a crucial aspect of our agreement. Robert had to defend and honor both the old gods and the new, ensuring that our faith was protected. To prepare for any potential attacks from the other seven kingdoms, we devised a system. If someone from another region were to attack the North, we had a series of steps to follow in order to seek justice. If the crown failed to support us after we diligently followed these steps, we were allowed to wage war against that territory without any
interference from the crown.
With this agreement, the North secured its independence in all but name. We gained military autonomy, control over the New Gift, tax exemption, and the power to shape our own territory. It was a significant victory for our people, and a new era began for the North under the leadership of Prince Leon.
So, we had just finished negotiating a peace treaty during the rebellion. We made sure to include a clause that the Targaryen princess was to be unharmed and handed over to the north. It was also agreed that the north would receive 5 million gold dragons as payment, or else we would go to war against whoever caused her harm. Every noble house involved in the rebellion signed the treaty, and I even placed compulsion charms on it to ensure everyone would stick to their word for at least a year and a half.
Once everything was settled, I kneeled before Robert and declared him the king of the seven kingdoms. He wanted to celebrate with a feast, but I gathered my fellow northern Lords, as well as the Lords from the Vale and Riverlands, to march towards the Red Keep.
As we approached King's Landing, about half a mile away, we were stopped by Lannister scouts. My grandfather, a few of my men, and I rode ahead to their encampment outside the city. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the rolling fields that surrounded us. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of wildflowers growing in the field, and surrounding the capital.
There, we bumped into Gerion Lannister, the younger brother of Tywin Lannister. My grandfather handed him a stack of papers, the sound of the parchment crinkling softly in the air, as he informed Gerion about Baratheon's claim to the iron throne. He asked if they would acknowledge it.
As we conversed, I couldn't help but notice Gerion's calm and composed demeanor, his eyes scanning over the documents with a shade of green that matched the lush surroundings. The wind whispered through the nearby trees, gently rustling the leaves and causing them to dance and sway. It was a picturesque scene, even in the midst of such a tense moment.
After what felt like an eternity, Gerion finally nodded, indicating that he would pass the documents on to his brother for a final decision on whether the Western Lands would recognize Baratheon's claim. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at his seemingly deliberate attempt to waste our time, pretending to make a decision.
Knowing what was about to unfold, I hurried back to the rest of the northern army and rallied them into action. I instructed seven of my ten constructed bodyguards to be prepared to enter King's Landing as soon as the gates swung open and the Lannister soldiers flooded in. It was a risky move, as I hadn't allowed myself a moment of proper rest, but I knew I couldn't miss this opportunity. I needed to harness the power of battle meditation once again.
Finding a spot under a sprawling tree, I dismounted and settled into the grass. Taking a deep breath, I began the familiar routine of breathing exercises, grounding myself in the natural rhythm of the world. Closing my eyes, I focused on the emotions swirling within the walls of King's Landing.
As the citizens' fears washed over me, I made a conscious effort to suppress their terror and stoke the fires of their rage. I channeled their anger, giving it a purpose and direction. For just a fleeting moment, I granted them temporary clarity and battle instincts, empowering them to fight back against the Lannister forces.
Simultaneously, the massive gates of King's Landing creaked open, and the first wave of Lannister soldiers charged through. In their minds, I planted seeds of caution, fear, and paranoia. I wanted them to be overwhelmed, their thoughts clouded with doubt and confusion. I knew this would cause them to hesitate, to make deadly mistakes that would cost them dearly.
But I didn't stop there. I strategically orchestrated the deliberate targeting of the nobility within Tywin's forces. By marking them as beacons of importance, I ensured that the citizens of King's Landing would direct their fury towards these high-ranking figures. The chaos would be magnified, leading to even more deadly encounters among the Westermen themselves.
With the citizens now armed with a newfound ferocity, the stage was set for a battle unlike any other. And as I sat there, connected to the pulse of the city.
As the gates swung open, my seven Golem Bodyguards sprang into action, their metallic bodies moving with incredible speed. In just under three and a half minutes, they covered an impressive distance of one thousand meters. My mind was divided, one part focused on maintaining battle meditation, while the other took control of the leading Golem Bodyguard as it charged through the city streets. The rest of the guards followed closely behind, a formidable force.
The knowledge I had gained from studying maps and reliable intelligence led us directly to the castle where the Martell royal family was believed to be held captive. Despite facing numerous obstacles in the form of gold cloaks and Lannister soldiers, my bodyguards effortlessly overpowered them, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Bodies were crushed against walls, blood smeared across the surfaces as they pressed forward. The Golem Bodyguards proved their ability to break through barriers with ease, but even so, it still took them about 30 minutes to reach the castle.
As they dashed through the corridors of the castle, they encountered more gold cloaks, their bodies colliding with the walls, leaving a gruesome scene behind. With each step, the sound of their footsteps echoed through the halls. Suddenly, a piercing scream pierced the air, causing us to quicken our pace. Turning a corner, we were met with a sight that filled us with rage and disgust.
A door lay before us, forcefully breached, revealing a harrowing scene inside. Two men stood within the room, their actions sickening to witness. One was a colossal figure, his size intimidating as he ruthlessly tore away the garments of a woman. The other man, with a repulsive countenance, derived sadistic pleasure from repeatedly stabbing the lifeless body of a child.
Without missing a beat, my bodyguard sprang into action, his movements quick and precise. The room we were in was dimly lit, its walls adorned with faded tapestries depicting ancient battles. The air was thick with tension as we faced off against the colossal giant, his muscular frame started to turn to faces
With a swift swing of his poleax, my bodyguard delivered a powerful blow to the giant's leg, causing him to stumble. Another bodyguard joined the fight, his focus on disabling the giant's other leg. The sound of bones cracking filled the room as the giant's mobility was taken away from him.
Just as the giant attempted to swing his remaining arm, a third bodyguard appeared out of nowhere, swiftly dislocating his limb and grabbing him by the neck. With a forceful yank, he forcefully removed the repulsive man from the premises, his grip unyielding.
Meanwhile, the first bodyguard wasted no time in extracting the formidable giant from the room. He methodically fractured his kneecaps, shins, shoulders, feet, and hands, ensuring that he wouldn't pose a threat again. As this was happening, the remaining four bodyguards engaged in a fierce battle with the Lannister men stationed in the hallway.
The clash of weapons echoed through the stone corridor as each Lannister man faced the wrath of my bodyguards. Bones shattered and screams filled the air as their hands and shin bones were brutally shattered. One by one, they were restrained, their bodies left in a hogtied fashion, unable to escape.
To eliminate any potential threats, my bodyguards didn't take any chances. They delivered fatal blows to those who were presumed deceased, ensuring that they wouldn't rise again. The room was filled with the heavy silence of death.
With the immediate threats neutralized, a group of five out of the seven bodyguards swiftly moved to barricade the access points. Their tower shields, sturdy and unyielding, were raised, forming an impenetrable barrier. The remaining two bodyguards kept a watchful eye on the detained individuals, their gazes unwavering and alert.
After my bodyguards finally arrived, we were able to safely secure the Princess in her luxurious chamber. It was such a relief to know that she was out of harm's way, but the Lannister soldiers were facing an uphill battle. A third of their troops were either injured or lying lifeless on the ground, putting them at a significant disadvantage. The sight of the casualties, both soldiers and innocent civilians, was absolutely gruesome and heartbreaking.
But what truly astounded me was the unwavering bravery of the citizens. In the midst of the chaos, there were countless instances where the Lannister forces were pushed back, encircled, and ultimately annihilated. And every time they were defeated, the resilient citizens would seize the fallen Lannister weapons and fight with an indomitable ferocity. It was as if they had thrown caution to the wind and had no regard for their own safety.
As the battle intensified, it became increasingly difficult for me to stay connected to the situation. The overwhelming wave of emotions threatened to drown me, making it almost unbearable. After just ten minutes, I had to retreat from the front lines because the pain was too much to bear. I redirected my focus towards my golem, leaving the fate of the city and its valiant inhabitants in their hands. My senses became hypersensitive, particularly my vulnerable eyes, causing my head to throb relentlessly. It was a jarring experience when I wiped my nose, only to find it stained with blood. But I couldn't let my discomfort show. Summoning every ounce of strength, I managed to rise to my unsteady feet and mount my horse, leading my forces deeper into the city's perilous streets.
Simultaneously, I entrusted my grandfather with a crucial task. I placed him in command of 2000 fierce Northerners, alongside troops from the Riverlands and the Vale, to ensure the city's security and shield its innocent inhabitants from the encroaching Lannister forces. With unwavering conviction, I urged the Vale troops to show no mercy in subduing any remaining Lannister soldiers, appealing to their deep sense of honor and imploring them to protect the innocent from the cruelty of the enemy.
I didn't face many delays as I made my way through Kings Landing, heading towards the imposing Red Keep. The journey was a bit rough, though, with my grip on the saddle tightening as my vision went in and out of focus. I tried my best to shake off the distractions and stay focused on the present. Thankfully, as soon as I reached the red keep, my mind cleared up and my eyesight sharpened again, although a throbbing headache lingered. It felt like someone was plucking at the nerves behind my eyes repeatedly.
As we traveled, we couldn't ignore the signs of tension between the commoners and the Lannister troops. It seemed like there were small skirmishes happening all around us. Many Northern lords sought my advice on whether we should intervene in these conflicts. I stressed the importance of securing the red keep first and trusting our allies to protect the people of King's Landing from the Lannisters.
It wasn't surprising to see that most of the Lannister soldiers hadn't made it to the red keep. Only a small group was stationed at the gatehouse. Some of their troops were even caught up in altercations with the civilians nearby. To address this issue, I sent some of my men to encourage better behavior from the Lannisters. Luckily, we managed to avoid any major clashes with them.
On our way, we encountered a group of soldiers from the Westerlands who were building a barricade in front of the gate. As we pushed forward, a Lannister commander tried to block my path. I didn't hesitate to order my soldiers to remove him forcefully, without caring about his well-being. My decisive action made the remaining Lannister troops retreat and lower their weapons.