POV Lukarion Peverell, King's Landing, Westeros; 283 AC
The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and the metallic tang of blood as Lukarion Peverell fought his way through the chaos engulfing King's Landing.
The once orderly streets were now a battlefield, littered with the bodies of the slain, the cries of the wounded, and the deafening clash of steel. Lukarion's face was set in grim determination as he moved with lethal precision, his wand slicing through the air.
Severing curses shot from its tip, cleaving through Lannister soldiers with brutal efficiency. Each flick of his wrist brought another enemy to the ground, their lifeless bodies adding to the carnage that stained the city's streets.
A group of Lannister men charged at him, their faces twisted with murderous intent. Lukarion's eyes flashed with cold fury as he unleashed a barrage of bone-breaking curses, the sickening crunch of shattered bones mingling with the screams of his foes.
They fell before him, writhing in agony, but there was no time for mercy. He pushed forward, cutting a path through the ranks of the enemy, his robes drenched in the blood of both allies and adversaries. The crimson stains soaked into the fabric, a macabre testament to the ferocity of the battle.
With every step, the weight of his exhaustion grew heavier, his muscles screaming in protest as he continued to fight. A sudden explosion rocked the street, sending a shower of debris raining down. Lukarion shielded himself with a hastily cast spell, the force of the blast pushing him back.
He staggered but quickly regained his footing, his eyes scanning the chaos for any sign of retreat. Around him, the defenders of King's Landing fought valiantly, but the sheer number of Lannister soldiers threatened to overwhelm them.
So chaotic was the battle that even as his kill count surely had to approach 200, his actions had not been widely noticed by most of the surviving Lannister men, their attention focused on the City Watch and the innocent of King's Landing.
The city, once a bastion of hope and defiance, was now a scene of unrelenting slaughter. As Lukarion pressed on, a figure loomed before him, clad in the distinctive armor of the Lannister elite. The soldier raised his sword, a triumphant sneer on his lips, but he never got the chance to strike. Lukarion's wand flashed, a severing curse slicing clean through the man's neck.
Blood sprayed from the wound as the body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Breathing heavily, Lukarion paused for a moment, his eyes darting around the battlefield.
His vision blurred with fatigue, and he could feel the toll the relentless combat was taking on him. His arms felt like lead, his movements growing sluggish, but he could not afford to stop.
"Come on, Lukarion," he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl of determination. "You have to keep going." He pushed forward once more, cutting down any Lannister who dared cross his path.
His magic was a whirlwind of destruction, but each spell drained more of his dwindling energy. The blood-soaked streets blurred together, the faces of his enemies and allies indistinguishable in the frenzy of battle.
A sudden cry of pain drew his attention, and he turned to see a group of Lannister soldiers cornering a young girl, no older than twelve perhaps. The girl's face was a mask of terror, her eyes wide with fear as the soldiers closed in, their intentions clear as multiple parts of the girl's dress had already been ripped open.
With a roar of rage, Lukarion raised his wand and sent a powerful blast of magic towards the soldiers. They were thrown back by the overpowered depulso, their bodies slamming into the walls of the surrounding buildings with bone-shattering force.
The girl looked up at Lukarion, her expression a mixture of awe and gratitude. He could see the awed words 'the sorcerer' form on the girl's lips and he blushed slightly when the young teenage girl ran to him, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.
"Run!" Lukarion shouted, his voice hoarse. "Get to safety!" The girl nodded and sprinted away, disappearing into the labyrinthine streets of the city. Lukarion watched her go, a small flicker of hope kindling in his chest.
Despite the bloodshed and the chaos, there was still a chance to save some lives, to protect the innocent amidst the horror of war. But his moment of respite was short-lived.
More Lannister soldiers surged towards him, their eyes filled with murderous intent as they saw a well dressed young lad without a sword or armor, considering him biteless prey.
Lukarion gritted his teeth and readied his wand, his determination unwavering even as his body screamed for rest. He would fight to his last breath if necessary. For Rhaella, for Rhaenys, for the people of King's Landing. He would not let the city fall without a battle, and he would make the Lannisters pay for every inch of ground they gained.
As the battle raged on, Lukarion fought with all the strength he could muster, each curse and spell a testament to his resolve. But with each passing moment, the fatigue grew heavier, and the blood of both enemies and allies continued to soak into his robes, a grim reminder of the price of war.
By the time the rebels' armies would enter King's Landing, the legend of the 'Paladin Sorcerer' and the 'Bloody Protector' would spread throughout the smallfolk, their way of saying thank you to the young man who had appeared out of nowhere on the Queen Regent's side and then saved so many of their loved ones.
**Scene Break**
POV Ser Berret Graceford, King's Landing, Westeros; 283 AC
Ser Berret Graceford fought with all the skill and determination he could muster, his sword slashing through the ranks of Lannister soldiers alongside his brothers at arms, Ser Joffrey Stokeworth, Ser Darron Darklyn, and Ser Rhaenon Velaryon.
Together, they formed a formidable unit, their blades moving in perfect harmony as they defended the streets of King's Landing from the invading enemy alongside the City Watch men.
But amidst the chaos of battle, Berret heard a scream of pain that pierced through the clamor of battle. He turned to see Ser Joffrey being thrown aside like a rag doll by a massive man, towering over them like a mountain.
The giant figure swung his sword with terrifying strength, cutting down almost a dozen City Watch in a matter of moments. Berret's heart raced as he rushed to confront the giant, his sword held high in a desperate attempt to stop the carnage.
Beside him, Ser Rhaenon fought valiantly, his sword flashing in the sunlight as he engaged the enemy. But their efforts were in vain. The giant's brute strength was overwhelming, and despite their best efforts, Ser Rhaenon fell to the ground, his body limp and lifeless.
Berret fought on, his movements fueled by a mixture of rage and desperation. Suddenly, pain exploded through Berret's body as he felt the cold bite of steel pierce his flesh. He cried out in agony as he stumbled backward, his vision swimming with darkness.
He looked up to see a Lannister man standing over him, a triumphant sneer on his lips as he withdrew his bloody blade. Berret's breath came in ragged gasps as he lay on the ground, his strength ebbing away with each passing moment.
Through the haze of pain, he locked eyes with the distant figure of the Sorcerer, his gaze pleading for help in the face of overwhelming odds. But as darkness closed in around him, Berret knew that his plea would go unanswered.
The fate of King's Landing now hung in the balance, and with his last breath, he prayed that someone would rise to the challenge and save the city from destruction.
He died to soon to see that Ser Darron Darklyn chose that moment to retreat into the Red Keep, seeing that the battle was all but lost even if the Sorcerer managed to outperform expectations once again and intending to get Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys the hell out of the hell that King's Landing had quickly become.
**Scene Break**
POV Lukarion Peverell, King's Landing, Westeros; 283 AC
As Lukarion fought through the chaos of battle, his mind a whirlwind of emotion and adrenaline, he witnessed the brutal scene unfolding before him with a mixture of horror and fury. The sight of Ser Berret falling, his valiant efforts cut short by the merciless Lannister soldiers, filled him with a sense of grief and rage that burned like fire in his veins.
But amidst the chaos, something unexpected happened. A three-eyed raven descended from the sky, landing on Lukarion's shoulders and fixing him with a piercing gaze. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as their eyes met, and Lukarion felt a strange sense of connection with the mystical creature.
Then, without warning, he was consumed by a vision, a vivid and haunting glimpse into the horrors unfolding within the walls of the Red Keep.
He saw the giant man, his monstrous form looming over baby Aegon, smashing the infant against the stone wall with a sickening thud.
He watched in horror as the knight beside him plunged his sword into little Rhaenys, ending her innocent life in a cruel and senseless act of violence before stabbing her corpse a hundred times.
He saw the giant man turning towards the injured Elia on the ground, disrobing and then raping the screaming and soon whimpering woman until she gave no sounds and made no movements anymore.
And then, he witnessed Queen Rhaella, her face contorted in agony as she gave birth to a girl before succumbing to the ravages of blood loss.
The vision was like a dagger to his heart, filling him with a rage unlike anything he had ever known. With a primal scream of fury, Lukarion surged forward, his eyes blazing with determination as he charged after the giant man who was entering the Red Keep swatting Lannister men aside in his rampage with primal bursts of magic, cementing his legacy in the eyes of the smallfolk as everyone wondered what could have enraged the sorcerer to this amount.
Every fiber of his being was consumed by the need for vengeance, the need to protect those he held dear from the atrocities unfolding before him. With each step, his resolve hardened, his determination to stop the giant man and end the bloodshed growing stronger with every heartbeat.
As he raced through the streets of King's Landing and then through the , his mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: justice. And with the three-eyed raven as his guide, Lukarion would stop at nothing to ensure that the people he was quickly beginning to see as his family away from family would be safe, no matter the cost.
**Scene Break**
POV Rhaella Targaryen, King's Landing, Westeros; 283 AC
"Seven hells, however are we meant to reach the docks in one piece?" asked Rhaella their protectors Ser Darron Darklyn, Ser Samuel Fowler and Admiral Corlys Velaryon while Viserys clung to her skirt.
"We'll find a way," Velaryon replied firmly, determination hardening his features. "There's a small boat waiting at the docks for us. We need to reach it before it's too late. The rest of the fleet has already left the port, I have made sure of that"
With swift efficiency, the three men led Rhaella and Viserys through the labyrinthine streets of King's Landing, their senses on high alert for any sign of danger.
The chaos grew louder with each step, the sounds of violence and destruction echoing through the streets as they neared the docks when men began blocking their way.
Rhaella's heart sank at the sudden sight of Lannister soldiers blocking their path. The men obviously knew they couldn't risk a confrontation, not with a slightly disguised Rhaella and Viserys in tow.
They didn't need to however as a scream of rage could suddenly be heard and the Lannister men were bisected in front of them by a bright purple light as Lukarion sprinted past their location towards the Red Keep, a three eyed raven of all things on his shoulders... wait what?
Rhaella looked again but couldn't see Lukarion any longer, eh it was probably just her imagination anyway.
With relief flooding through her at her lover's timely though unknowing rescue, the men hurried Rhaella and Viserys towards the docks, her mind racing with thoughts of escape and survival.
As they reached the small boat waiting at the water's edge, Ser Samuel helped Rhaella and Viserys aboard, her heart heavy with the knowledge of the horrors she had witnessed as they made their escape through the city.
Guards and lots of rowers greeted her grateful eyes and she made a deep curtsy, ordering the men to row them to safety.
But as they pushed off from the shore and sailed away from the burning city, Rhaella wondered just what had gotten her handsome lover so enraged, he was usually quite the calm young man after all.
She layed her hand on her bulging stomach, perhaps the next one would be Lukarion's. She smiled at that thought.
**Scene Break**
POV Elia Martell-Targaryen, Red Keep, King's Landing, Westeros; 283 AC
As Elia Martell had gazed out of the window from her chambers, her heart heavy with worry and anticipation. Worrying about the coming battle which would decide the future of not only her family but of the whole realm.
And she also worried for the sorcerer, already was he more of a father figure to her daughter Rhaenys than Rhaegar had ever been and wasn't that just a shame?
She had liked her late husband well enough but he had always been far to enarmoured with his damned prophecy and when the whole disaster with Lyanna Stark started to happen she cursed him to the seven hells repeatedly.
Right, Lyanna... from the letters Elia had received over the past two years, Lyanna and Rhaegar had fallen deeply in love with eachother and Lyanna had fallen pregnant some time before Rhaegar left for the Trident.
She would later need to find Lyanna as the young girl would need a lot of support once the babe arrived and if there was someone who could find the girl then it would be Lukarion.
She had watched anxiously as the Lannister army approached the gates of King's Landing, their banners fluttering in the wind like dark omens of impending doom. Only later would she understand why she felt doom in that very moment.
Relief washed over her when she saw the gates slowly open to admit the soldiers, her hopes for a coming victory increasing as the Westerlanders started reinforcing the City Watch positions along the wall.
But as the moments passed and she observed from afar, her relief quickly turned to horror as the Lannister men began to turn on the City Watch, their once-allies now their victims.
Her breath caught in her throat as chaos erupted in the streets below, the sounds of screams and clashing steel echoing through the city. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she witnessed the senseless violence unfolding before her, her heart weeping with dismay at the suffering of countless innocents caught in the crossfire.
With a heavy heart, Elia turned away from the window, unable to bear the sight any longer. She moved to her children, gathering them close in a desperate attempt to shield them from the horrors of the outside world. As she held them tightly, her mind raced with fear and uncertainty, praying for their safety in the midst of the chaos consuming King's Landing.
As Elia held her children close, trying to shield them from the horrors outside, two servant girls burst into her chambers, their faces pale with panic. Tears streamed down their cheeks as they begged Elia to flee the city with her children, their voices trembling with fear.
"Lady Elia, please, you must leave," one of the girls pleaded, her voice choked with emotion. "A monster of a man is approaching fast. We won't be safe here!"
But Elia shook her head, her resolve unwavering. "I cannot abandon the people of King's Landing and Queen Rhaella," she insisted, her voice firm despite the fear gnawing at her heart.
The girls exchanged worried glances before one of them spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Lady Elia, Ser Darron Darklyn and Admiral Corlys Velaryon have already taken Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys to the docks. They're bound for Dragonstone. No one can help the smallfolk of King's Landing now."
Elia's heart clenched at the news, her mind reeling with the weight of their words. She knew they spoke the truth, that the safety of her family must come first. With a heavy sigh, she relented, her hands trembling as she lifted Aegon out of his crib and into her arms.
As she prepared to make their escape, shouts echoed from the end of the hallway outside Elia's chambers, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. With a silent prayer on her lips, Elia tightened her grip on her children and braced herself for whatever lay ahead.
As the shouts grew louder and the danger drew nearer, Rhaenys whimpered and darted under the bed, seeking refuge from the chaos. Elia's heart ached for her daughter, but she knew they had to stay hidden to survive.
Liah, one of the servant girls, whimpered in apology, her fear palpable as she realized the danger they were in. "Oh no, he's here... I'm sorry, Your Grace, I wasn't faster," she muttered, her voice trembling with dread.
Through the haze of fear, Elia saw the giant of a man enter the area outside her chambers, followed by a shady-looking knight. The sight sent a shiver down her spine as she watched them murder a couple of guards with brutal efficiency.
In a desperate attempt to protect their lady and the children, the servant girls drew out daggers and launched themselves at the giant. But their efforts were futile against the overwhelming strength of their assailant, who brushed them aside like leaves in the wind.
Elia's heart stopped as Aegon was ripped from her arms, the giant swinging him like a rag doll and smashing him against the wall. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she watched in horror, her mind reeling with disbelief and despair.
Everything seemed to stop around her as Elia sent a prayer to the seven that atleast Rhaella and Viserys would be fine, knowing the cruel gaze in the giant's eyes was a good indication of the horrific death that was quickly coming for her and Rhaenys.
But then, a scream of pure rage pierced the air, followed by the sound of a dark arrow piercing through the knight's back, lauching him towards and pinning him to the wall.
Elia's eyes widened in shock as she witnessed the sudden turn of events, unable to comprehend what was happening. Before she could process the chaos unfolding before her, she heard a chilling incantation, a word that filled the room with an aura of dread. "Crucio," a voice hissed, and the giant fell to the ground, writhing in agony.
As the dust settled, Elia's gaze met the eyes of the figure who had appeared in the midst of the chaos. She saw a darkness in those eyes, a fierce determination that sent shivers down her spine. It was Lukarion, his presence a mixture of power and fury as he approached, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her tremble.
**POV Change**
Lukarion's soul cried out in rage and dismay when he realised that he was too late as he turned around a corner only to see baby Aegon being ripped out of Elia's hands by the giant who smashed the baby against the wall. Noone could survive that, even his grandfather for all his luck would not have survived something like that.
Lukarion became numb as for the first time in his life, enough rage and darkness had gathered inside his soul that his body shuddered in ecstasy as the word "Crucio" left Lukarion's lips and the spell left his wand smashing into the giant who promptly fell down screaming in agony.
Dark pleasure enveloped Lukarion as he relished in the monster's suffering for what seemed to be an eternity before the whimpered begs of Elia began to reach him.
'Please Lukarion, the children" the woman cried out calling out for him to stop his dreadful actions and an icy feeling began gnawing at his soul as Lukarion realised just what spell he had used.
He gazed numbly at his own hand, shocked to realise that he had just used the spell which would have given him a lifetime sentence in Azkaban back home.
Suddenly a little girl smashed into his chest, sobbing his name hysterically and the warmth that washed over Lukarion in the moment that he had little Rhaenys in his arms gave him the strength to focus on what was important now, saving Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon.
Something wasn't right however and soon he remembered what had happened when Elia's cries of "Aegon! No! Please stay with me baby you cannot leave this world already!" reached his ears.
With little Rhaenys clinging to him, Lukarion's mind raced, trying to devise a plan to protect Elia and the children from further harm. The urgency of the moment propelled him into action, pushing aside the turmoil within him as he focused on the task at hand.
"Elia, we need to go, now," Lukarion urged, his voice urgent as he moved to shield her and Rhaenys from any potential threats.
The crying woman turned to him, a small amount of hope filling her eyes as she gazed into his eyes before launching herself onto him, her voice filled with desperation.
"Save him with your magic Lukarion, please! I know you can! If you need me to I will become your lifelong concubine if you will only save my Aegon! Please Lukarion!" she shouted, Lukarion's eyes filling with tears as he knew that he had to break her heart once more when he touched the corpse of Aegon, the warmth already leaving the little boy's body.
"I'm sorry Elia but even my famed ancestors who managed to outwit death once weren't able to escape him eventually. There is nothing I can do.." he said, hanging his head as Elia collapsed to the ground chanting "please" over and over again.
To spare Rhaenys any more of this he placed the trembling, little toddler in his arms under a heavy sleeping spell. He layed the girl to the ground with great care and took the grieving woman in front of him into his arms, holding her to him as she cried for her dead son.
Offhandedly he also closed the door to the room, placing a strong locking spell onto the door as it swung into lock and key, Lukarion holding Elia in his arms and giving her all the time she needed, everything else forgotten for the moment.
A part of his mind wondered how he could care about these people so much already, knowing them only for a couple of weeks.
Eventually the sobs of Elia slowly stilled down to a weak whimper, so he kissed the woman's forehead telling her that they needed to leave as there was no way they would win against the Lannisters let alone the rebels' armies.
Elia, her eyes filled with grief and fear, nodded weakly, her trembling hands reaching out to grasp onto Lukarion for support. "Where can we go? The city is overrun, and the Lannisters..."
He transfigured Aegon's corpse into a flower, making Elia gasp and put it into his robes "Don't worry I can retransfigure him to his human remains anytime I want this is just for convenience" he said with a sad smile directed at Elia who nodded, tears gathering in her eyes once again.
Lukarion shushed her lips softly with a smile and took a hold of both Elia and Rhaenys saying, "I am sorry Elia but this is going to be unpleasent"
The world spun before Elia could ask him what he was talking about and Lukarion apparated away to a location he knew would be safe.. atleast for now that was.
By that point Lukarion had long forgotten the Three Eyed Raven that had been on his shoulders earlier aswell as the visions that had followed immediately after.
Chapter End