The sun rose over a flurry of activity in the war camp. The Dothraki and knights of the Vale inspected their horses and saddles, the Unsullied assembled into their battalions, the soldiers of Winterfell followed their lords' banners. The Wolf's Deathbound, having finally been granted the right to ride horses again, paraded triumphantly around their fellows, prominently displaying their flame-shaped tattoos. Danaerys Targaeryen mounted her dragon, took a last look at the men who would bring her victory, and took off.
Jon Snow mounted his horse and looked around him one last time. This was it, the final assault that would see the city in Danaerys' hands. The Unsullied had formed into their phalanxes, the Northern troops into their clans and house troops, the horsemen of the Vale and Essos mounted up and waiting for the signal to move out. At the forefront of the infantry the Wolf's marauders stood head and shoulders above the Westerosi, alone or in small groups, evidently enjoying the humbling effect their towering presence had on the smaller soldiers.
The Wolf was nowhere to be seen, and Jon breathed a sigh of relief. Despite his proclaimed intent of spending the day out at sea, there was no telling what the barbarian could do, and to force the giant into compliance would have been no easy task. Jon raised his sword into the air and waited a moment until he was certain the banner-bearers and trumpeters had seen him.
"Move ou-"
"WARRIORS OF THE DRAGON!"
Jon flinched as though a warhorn had been blasted next to his ear.
"THE WHORE-QUEEN CERSEI SITS ON A STOLEN THRONE!"
"THE COWARDLY SEA-SCUM EURON SAILS UNPUNISHED!"
"THE DROWNED DEAD OF DRAGONSTONE LIE UNAVENGED, THEIR BONES PICKED OVER BY CRABS!"
Jon twisted around, looking for the voice which he recognized all too well. He heard the harangue in the common tongue of Westeros, but also heard the Valyrian spoken by the Essosi and thought he recognized a few words of Dothraki.
"WILL YOU LET THIS STAND?!"
Jon looked around. Faces were growing ugly in the ranks, and several men looked furious.
"DOES THE BREAKER OF CHAINS HAVE NO FRIENDS, DOES THE TRUE QUEEN OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS HAVE NO ALLIES, DOES THE KHALEESI OF THE GRASS SEA HAVE NO WARRIORS, THAT SHE MUST TAKE BACK HER BIRTHRIGHT ALONE?"
"ARE HER DOTHRAKI SO CRAVEN, HER UNSULLIED SUCH COWARDS, HER SOLDIERS SUCH WEAKLINGS, HER CHILDREN SUCH INGRATES, THAT THEY PREFER LIFE IN BONDAGE TO A KIN-RUTTING GUTTER-SLUT, RATHER THAN DEATH IN DEFENSE OF THE STORMBORN?!"
There was a roar of outrage, but it was not directed at the speaker.
"THEN MARCH, WARRIORS OF THE DRAGON! SHOW THE LANNISTER BITCH, SHOW THE UNGRATEFUL WRETCHES OF KING'S LANDING, SHOW THE WORLD THAT YOU ARE WORTHY OF THE SACRIFICES THE TRUE QUEEN HAS MADE IN YOUR NAME!"
"BLOOD!"
"FOR THE DRAGON QUEEN!"
"SKULLS!"
"FOR THE IRON THRONE!"
An immense clamor rose up. Every soldier in Danaerys' army marched with fevered eyes and trembling hands, eager to prove that her faith in them had not been misplaced. They had been devoted to her before, now there was no mountain of corpses too high, no lake of blood too deep, no death toll too great for their savior. Had the walls of King's Landing stood before them, they would have charged without a thought to their safety, dedicated only to killing the scum who dared defy the will of the Dragonqueen.
Jon looked worriedly about him, but there was no stopping the tide. He spurred his horse forward, catching sight for an instant of a huge figure striding towards the ships.
Danaerys' army heard Cersei's forces before they saw them as a trumpeting in the distance. Massive grey beasts in golden livery, their tusks fitted with jagged metal sleeves, hid the great Iron Gate of King's Landing behind their bulk. On either side, compact blocks of infantry bearing the standards of House Lannister and the Golden Company awaited resolutely. Harry Strickland stood by the gates, several trumpeters and banner-bearers beside him. Scorpions lined the walls, their servants occasionally making rude gestures at the attackers, but more often looking at the sky.
Jon looked over his own forces. The presence of the elephants did not seem to have unnerved his men, especially inspired as they were by the Wolf's haranguing, but he was glad of having placed the Unsullied at the front, where their experience against the beasts could turn the tide. The Wolf's marauders on the other hand seemed positively giddy, no doubt thinking of the renown bringing down such a foe would bring among their kind. Those manning the enormous battering ram pushed the carriage forward. A few archers atop the gate loosed shafts, but they only thudded against the wooden roof to no effect.
High above, Drogon flapped his wings, bobbing in place like a cork on a tranquil sea. On his back, Danaerys breathed deeply and looked below. Her army was arranged as per the plan. She looked out to the south, where the remnants of her fleet would be preparing to make their entrance, the Wolf's ship hopefully nowhere near them. They would have a hard fight against the dregs of the royal fleet, but at least the absence of the Ironborn ships had greatly evened the odds.
She frowned as she found herself looking over the battlements at the scorpions, then started as she realized that she was applying the Wolf's advice.
She shook her head. What happened here today would be of her own will, too many of her advisors having turned on her or given her ill counsel, well-intentioned as it might have been.
There was expectant silence. Danaerys heard only the flapping of Drogon's wings as she looked at the armies below. She looked at the Red Keep in the distance. Was Cersei doing the same? Did she honestly still think she could win? Or had she at last bowed to the inevitable, and had she turned tail and run? The way Tyrion had been acting lately was slightly suspicious, but there would be time to question him later.
In the quiet, there was suddenly a clanging, metallic sound. Startled, Danaerys looked down as the sound grew louder and more urgent, then smiled as relief washed over her. The city's bells were ringing, the sound growing in intensity. Cersei had at last seen sense, or perhaps the citizens had finally refused to submit to her madness any longer. Whispering to Drogon, she slowly started her descent. She would walk into the city on foot, all the better to see the gratitude of the citizens she had spared.
Far away and high above, two pairs of eyes watched with great interest from the prow of a flying longship. Akkarulf could barely make out Drogon going lower, when the Wolf let out a snarl, pounding on the Seafang's gunwale.
"The green pox take the bastard, what's he doing?!"
On the ground, the soldiers looked at each other, disappointment audible among Danaerys' army, especially among the Wolf's marauders. Grey Worm's expression was unreadable as ever.
Harry Strickland, unsure of what to do until formal orders had been given, called for his men to hold their positions while the Lannister soldiers exchanged uncertain looks.
So it was that Danaerys was looking at the roof of the Red Keep when it flashed into fire, the thunderous sound audible from outside the city. The soldiers on the battlements gasped and pointed at it. From the ground, neither army could see what was happening, but from the agitation on the walls they could tell something was wrong.
A sphere of crackling light shot out from the keep, faster than any arrow. It soared over the city, cleared the battlements, and then circled around Drogo to strike Danaerys in the chest. She screamed. Drogo bellowed and plunged forward, maw gaping wide.
On the Seafang, the Wolf howled in exultation.
"YES! Keep at it, Dragonqueen, you're almost there!"
The Wolf shouted an order, and the oarmen started pulling, the longship moving forwards. Akkarulf took up his bow and stood with his back to the mast.
Swooping so low over the battlements that a scorpion was pushed over the side by the whipping of his tail, Drogon powered through the air to the Red Tower and unleashed a blast of fire that annihilated not just the roof but several floors. The dragon screamed in triumph, then in agony as a scorpion's bolt from the eastern walls tore through his left wing. Without any prompting, Drogon surged forward.
The scorpion's men had no time to savor their victory before Drogon was on them. One screamed as sword-sized teeth closed on him, the others hurled off the battlements by leathery wings.
Danaerys pushed herself up Drogon's neck. Her eyes were wild, her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Everything seemed enveloped in mist, except where Drogon's breath had disintegrated the stonework. Her throat dry, she pushed out a single word.
"Dracarys."
Screeching in fury, the dragon lifted off.
Outside the gates, Grey Worm showed no hesitation. The Lannister queen had attempted to murder Danaerys through foul sorcery after feigning surrender. Now not even a direct order from Danaerys herself could have stopped him.
"CHARGE!"
"No, they've surr-"
Jon's reply was lost in the clamor. Danaerys' army surged forward, all thoughts of discipline forgotten as they ran to the slaughter. The panicked Lannister soldiers fell back, but taken completely unawares by their queen's treachery, many were massacred where they stood.
Harry Strickland cursed and yelled at his trumpeters.
"Golden Company! Hold ranks! Elephants, charge!"
A horn sounded, quickly echoed by the trumpeting of the war elephants. The beasts lumbered forwards, archers mounted on their backs loosing death at any target they could find. The charging Dothraki were swept aside, horse and man alike sent flying by swinging tusks or pillar-like legs.
The Unsullied quickly rallied under Grey Worm's command, and held fast in close ranks, their long spears giving the beasts pause. But where an elephant managed to check its charge in the face of the spears, the archers in the howdah simply shot into the immobile phalanxes.
Atop the walls, the scorpions began loosing their deadly projectiles, but they did not fire as fast as they could have, each crew torn between killing a target on the ground and being caught defenseless should the dragon attack them.
Some of the Wolf's Deathbound succeeded in circling around one of the elephants and hacking away at its legs, and paid for their success with heavy losses. The maddened beast trumpeted and charged, unresponsive to the shouts of its driver, and had plowed halfway through an Unsullied phalanx before it fell over, crushing another dozen eunuchs beneath it. The archers of the Golden Company were dragged from the wreckage and mercilessly butchered.
The creaking carriage of the Wolf's battering ram had nearly made it to the Iron Gate, its roof nearly invisible under the mass of arrows covering it, when an all-too-familiar roar was heard. Strickland turned around and caught sight of the massive gate buckling before the entire construction blew apart, replaced by the heat of a forest fire. He was only dimly aware of a sudden searing pain before his vision darkened.
Drogon did not stop, but wheeled about and flew straight along the wall, his breath incinerating scorpions and soldiers alike.
The marauders pushing the ram immediately abandoned their now-useless load and launched themselves into battle with horrifying glee, cutting down Lannister soldiers regardless of whether they were surrendering or fighting back. Grey Worm saw the barbarians entering the open gate. He shouted an order, and the Unsullied abandoned their phalanxes to follow him into the breach.
Still dazed, Jon got up and was taken along with the flow.