The end is coming !
Not a lot of chapters left ! Enjoy the read :D
Her hand remained high, the sole focus on every being. Even the Lannister soldiers were aware of the danger building up. Their nerves were cracking in a painfully obvious way. A few tried to fire an arrow at Daenerys or the dragons but their projectiles fell at least a hundred feet away from their targets. A ballista had also been fired but had completely missed its target.
Her eyes hard and set on the Red Keep, she dropped her arm.
Her arm dropped, and again, Eragon was reminded of how unique this army was. Unlike with most armies, he had been part of, no orders were shouted, The Unsullied once again proved how different they were from all the other armies. As Daenerys slowly lowered her arm, a tense silence enveloped the battlefield. Then, in an instant, the Unsullied sprang into action with remarkable precision, their catapults launching the first volley with breathtaking speed
The projectiles went high in the sky and it seemed all the eyes were locked on the little dots leaving the baskets. They rose swiftly and after a few seconds, started going down before falling behind the walls of King's Landing. Already, the soldiers were back at work, loading the now empty baskets, not even stopping the watch the conclusion of the first volley and to see the perfect curve taken by their projectiles. Their aim was true and within seconds, they started to hear screams of fear erupting from the other side of the wall. The cries grew at an astonishing rate but they quickly morphed the fear and horror into something akin to joy
Turning his head, Eragon saw the start of a smile appear on Daenerys' face.
Eragon leaned in closer to Daenerys and whispered, 'Your plan is working, they're starting to see our intentions.'"
Her wager was paying off. Because this was exactly what they had imagined. Daenerys had yearned for a peaceful reception in this foreign city, not a violent siege. She believed in giving the people a choice, letting them decide their fate. She hadn't wanted to siege it and cause unnecessary deaths. She aimed to have the people of King's Landing open the doors of the city to her army. Her plan was a simple one and was based on her past in Essos. She was giving the choice to the people. The Unsullied weren't throwing rocks on their roofs. The baskets were filled with bread, hastily made the past days and marked with the Targaryen sigil. Having seen the living conditions of the folks, knew how much this small token would mean to the folk. This was literally gold for them. If people kept working in these horrible conditions, it was because they had families to feed.
They kept going like this for a few more volleys. They hadn't been able to produce many loaves since they also had to feed a gigantic army in the middle of the winter. But with some effort, they had managed to spare enough resources to bake these loaves of bread. It wouldn't be a lot, but Eragon knew this gesture would be remembered. From what Eragon had been told, she had done a similar action in Essos where instead of bread, she had thrown broken collars. And he couldn't help but compare it to Nasuada's gesture after the Varden's campaign once Galbatorix had been killed. Two coins had been offered to every person, regardless of their past allegiance. This small token had offered her the love of the people. On both occasions, these simple solutions had brought enormous support from the people. These men and women didn't care about the lineage of their king. They were only seeking to bring some food to their home and to offer shelter to their family and would follow whoever could provide it.
During this wait, the army did nothing but wait in the vicinity of King's Landing. The mood remained very light amongst the soldiers and the nights were spent around huge bonfires created by the dragons. Eragon even spent some time exploring the lands and the forests surrounding the city. Some of the trees here were different from the ones he had seen in Alagaësia and he was curious to learn more about the wildlife.
It started faintly, a little spark in a forest of numbness and acceptance. However, it grew and spread like a wildfire. Daenerys' influence was growing, reaching all the people starved out and kept inside the walls of King's Landing. The rebellion had started. And if Cersei wanted to extinguish it, she'd have to take strong actions. In such a situation, words and promises would be completely useless hence why Eragon knew that Cersei's men didn't have a lot of time to act nor a lot of leeway. But they were already too late. The people of King's Landing had taken their fate into their own hands and were fighting for it now. Two days after the Unsullied had thrown bread above the wall, a shift took place inside the city. Eragon could hear them screaming, rallying the people to get their freedom.
They could hear the shouts, the protests and the rallying cries. Eragon with his sight could see the guards leaving the top of the walls of the city, trying to defend the positions under threat. King's Landing was under attack, but the threat was coming from inside.
Their only input had been the loaves of bread, thrown on the city two days ago. He was honestly surprised by how quickly things had turned out in their favour.
Eragon and Saphira could see the doors shaking, the hinges on the verge of breaking. Eragon could only guess about what was happening on the other side but he had a fairly good idea. The people were pushing, trying to overwhelm the guards and to reach the doors, to open them one way or another. It sounded like an ocean, with waves crashing tirelessly against the hindrances placed there.
After a last brutal shock, they heard multiple cheers from the citizens inside the city. Daenerys, Tyrion and Eragon hadn't made a step in the direction of King's Landing but their whole attention was turned on the door. Behind, Grey Worm was preparing the Unsullied to face whatever would come out of it. As expected, no shouts were needed, only a few instructions followed and carried on in a matter of minutes.
After some long minutes, the gates opened in a loud rumble, a deeply unsettling noise. The movement was clearly irregular. The mechanism to open the door had probably been broken during the skirmishes and the people now needed to force the opening. Behind the doors, they could see hundreds of citizens, pressed against the walls. With a frown, he saw a few bodies, lying on the ground, that had yet to be removed. The soldiers were nowhere to be seen, and the people standing on the other side were solely composed of commoners.
For a few seconds, a silence fell between the two sides, each taking in what was happening. Daenerys, Tyrion and Eragon were gauging the reaction of the people in the city. They had started their quest for freedom, but no one knew how they would react to an army waiting on the borders of their city, even if said army had fed them not a week ago.
The tension slowly rose as both sides stared at each other. But after a few tense seconds, a cry broke the silence. However, only Eragon and Saphira were able to properly understand what had been shouted. The Unsullied didn't and in reaction, they immediately strengthened their hold on their spears, a gesture that would prove to be useless, but Eragon didn't have the time to correct them. In a few seconds, the cries had gotten louder and it was now perfectly clear to understand what they were shouting. It was a single word, chanted in a loop, filled with the hope of a whole city, a city which had fought for its freedom and was now waiting: "Targaryen".
"Targaryen"
This single word was repeated, shouted and echoed across the streets of King's Landing, spread now by all the people waiting on the other side of the gates of the capital. They hadn't moved, not daring to leave the pseudo-security offered by the ramparts of the city.
However, the same couldn't be said for them. Inaction wasn't something Daenerys liked; a trait proved true moments later.
Eragon noticed Daenerys, who had gotten into motion and was walking in the direction of the city, unafraid, unfazed and determined.
Immediately, the army went into motion to follow her but she raised her left hand, which caused an abrupt stop. Turning to face them, her instructions clear for all:
"If Tyrion, Jon and Eragon could join me, I'd appreciate it. For the moment, the army doesn't enter the city. I won't scare the people of King's Landing and I want to make sure Cersei won't launch an attack from behind the lines," came her short orders.
Eragon shrugged, before walking in Daenerys's direction. He knew he could refuse it, but he had no reason to. He would be cautious, but he knew not many would be able to wound him. He knew that if any harm was to fall on him, nothing would remain of King's Landing once Saphira was done with it.
Jon seemed to be in the same opinion, unlike Tyrion who tried to argue during a few moments with Daenerys to let a few soldiers follow them, to no avail. After a few seconds of whispered arguments, he seemed to accept his Queen's decision, quietly getting in line behind her, scolding along the way.
Together, they walked in the direction of the city where all the people were waiting for them. As they got closer, they had a better look at their face and their eyes. It was a mixture of fear, mistrust and hope that was painted on most of them. They had also turned silent when they noticed them walking in their direction. Eragon and the others also started to smell the stench of the city yet nothing but a short wrinkle of her nose indicated Daenerys had noticed it.
"I'll be following you, make sure you don't fall into a bunch of troubles like you always do little one because if you do, I'm not getting in this smelly city to save you" said Saphira mockingly but with the smallest touch of worry.
"You know troubles always find me!" replied Eragon indignantly with a hint of amusement
"Hush you. Follow Daenerys and make sure nothing more dangerous than a few smelly humans chanting stumble on you. Drogon and Rhaegal are not ready to tackle such a city with the subtlety required for dragons" replied Saphira and Eragon for once didn't know how serious she was with her statement.
Nevertheless, he followed the trio, entering the city. He noticed some crispation on Tyrion but as far as Eragon knew, the dwarf didn't carry any weapon to protect him and relied entirely on him and Jon. So did Daenerys for that matter, but she looked more relaxed than her Hand.
They walked for a few more steps before she stopped, facing a large number of commoners. Gathering her courage, she distanced herself from the three men, took a few steps and reached a small area cleared of rumbles. The people had also distanced themselves, leaving a small empty space around Daenerys in the shape of a circle. She took a moment, facing them, probably choosing her next words and taking in the living conditions.
"I am Daenerys Targaryen. You might have heard things about me or nothing at all. It doesn't really matter. If I stand here, it's to speak to you and not to Cersei Lannister or whoever lives in this Red Keep, closed from the rest of the world. People of King's Landing. You have bled. Bled in the past for meaningless wars. Bled for your freedom, bled for your rights, bled to have some justice. And most importantly, you bled for your families, to bring some warmth and food home. The suffering ends now, for all of us. I am not your enemy. Winter is here, and the coming weeks will be harsh. But we will get through it together. No efforts will be spared to help every single one of you." She stated, with an honesty that surprised Eragon. He believed her able to deliver the same speech in the Ancient Language.
The people remained mostly silent, unsure of how to react. Eragon understood that at this point, they had lost all hope, and were tired of listening to people with false promises. They were waiting for acts.
"Lies" shouted one of them
A heavy silence fell as the people turned around to try to find the one who had spoken out. As it was, he wasn't difficult to spot. A wide gap was around him, the people unwilling to be caught in between.
The man wasn't armed nor particularly dangerous. But there was some fury, despair and loneliness in his eyes—the eyes of someone who had lost too much and had nothing left to lose.
Her own eyes shone with anger but she managed to control herself. But she had to answer him Eragon guessed.
"Apparently, you don't trust me. Why would you? I'm a foreigner, who comes knocking at your door with dragons and promises, like many before me. But I won't be called a liar" she concluded with a hint of anger in her voice
The man kept his head high and his mouth resolutely shut. No one dared to answer Daenerys.
"Help will be provided. While we speak, bread is being made and care will be provided by the maesters in your army" she concluded with a tone of finality.
And the giant crowd cheered, taking joy at this news. They hadn't taken into account that the small frenzy would start inside the city, most trying to have a grasp on what was happening, or getting closer to Daenerys. Wisely, they took a few steps back to avoid getting mobbed but if they wanted to be safe, they only had one option: turn back, something that would leave a bad impression. Fortunately, for them, the Unsullied had followed them from afar and were arriving near the gates. It seemed to be enough to deter and crush all ideas of riot.
Accompanied by a small legion of Unsullied, they made their way into the city. So far, they proved to be rather pointless. They hadn't encountered any Lannister soldiers yet. But the presence or absence of them meant nothing to Eragon. He knew they'd have to be dozens of hundreds of soldiers to beat him. Extending his mind, he could feel the clutches of people, but nothing indicating the presence of a hidden army waiting to ambush them.
They also hadn't heard from Jaime Lannister and didn't know what to expect inside or around the Red Keep. He was cautious, especially since his mind could feel agitation which could only be described as abnormalities. Human, but not quite.
Tyrion was guiding them in these alleys where poverty was the real leader. Eragon noticed there was no hesitation in his steps and yet, he wasn't taking them through the main arteries but rather through small passages and little alleys. Tyrion had walked here before, and more than once.
During their endeavour, their destination remained in sight, towering above them. From the outside of King's Landing, the Red Keep was an impressive structure, highlighting the wealth and power of old and ancient dynasties. It was overall, a great asset to the city.
But when inside the walls, it was imposing, humbling, almost humiliating. The contrast of wealth spread over such a small area was an insult to the people living there, under all levels of decency. Daenerys eyes displayed the same turmoil. From what she had shared with him during their travel South, this was close in some aspects to what she had experienced in Meereen. Hurdles stuck between wealth, dirt and walls. Masses chained by their hunger, poverty and families.
They continued like this for a few more minutes, climbing and walking towards the centre of the city. They only saw the first soldiers when they reached the inner walls but the sight of the Unsullied, Jon, Eragon and Saphira looming a few hundred feet above them made them disappear.
After a few streets, they arrived in front of the last gates guarding the Keep. Once more, they weren't protected. But they knew they'd enter the castle soon and wouldn't be as protected by Saphira as they currently were.
Eragon wasn't very worried about this. He was continuously roaming the city with his mind, along with the Eldunaris and nothing appeared threatening. They would anticipate ambushes with uncanny prescience, foiling the enemy's plans before they could even conceive them.
Tyrion was still guiding them, completely unbothered by the change of scenery. Daenerys on the other side was showing the first emotions on the mask she had kept tight during the day. She was reaching her dream and the legacy built by her ancestors after being deprived of it for her whole life.
The castle had been abandoned in a hurry. There was an eerie silence around them. No one stood in the corridors and most of the doors had been left wide open and showed the same mess and signs of a past hurry. Daenerys' attack had come as a surprise. Only one set of doors was closed and it didn't take long to figure out these were the doors guarding the throne room and the fabled Iron Throne. These doors were also quite different from all the others.
They were imposing and so wide Saphira could pass between if she somehow managed to reach this part of the castle. But the delicate carvings, displaying old battles and forgotten tales, made out of wood and metal wouldn't survive her passage. He could feel what was hidden behind these doors and frowned, tightening his grip on Brisingr.
Only five people would be inside the room, and Eragon already had a good idea of the setup and the welcoming committee. The outcome of the confrontation was inevitable with their current group. A small legion of Unsullied had joined them, swelling their numbers. As it was, each person would have to deal with ten Unsullied if they wanted to escape.
Jon walked up to the door, before bringing his hands to the front and pushing them.
He had barely started to push when two things simultaneously happened. A soft whisper which only Eragon heard came from inside the room: "Kill them" followed by the chattering of glass.
The second was the massive lance thrown at them from within the room. Immediately, Eragon focused on the projectile, intending to stop it
"Jierda"
He felt the familiar pull on his magic and the loss of energy to slow the weapon that had been thrown at them. He noticed with some surprise the effect it had on him. He spent more energy than expected to manage it. Nevertheless, Cersei's last attempt failed. No matter the strength of the caster, this was bound to fail. Eragon had once stopped the crash of a tower in Dras Leona.
Seconds after having cast the spell, they all heard the loud crash of the weapon against the tilled floor. Some eyebrows rose at the unexpected noise and a small feeling of panic rose from within their group.
Jon stopped his push, seemingly aware he had avoided death only thanks to Eragon's actions, but still unaware of what precisely happened.
He turned his head and faced Eragon, his grey eyes displaying respect and gratitude. The rest of his face was still locked in a frozen mask, focused on the task. Behind the emotion, Jon's eyes were seeking an answer, whether to continue or if some immediate danger was still waiting for them on the other of the door.
Eragon was the one to give him, nodding his head.
Jon's arms gave a last push and the doors of the Throne Room opened.
As expected, the massive room was mostly empty. He paused for a moment, feeling no coming threat to admire the room. It was bathed by the morning light through exquisite stained-glass windows. The light in the room played rather gracefully with the columns and alcoves of the room,
And the fabled Iron Throne loomed in the centre of this light, in the centre of the room. Hundreds of swords intertwined by the fire of dragons according to the story shared by Tyrion, to produce the symbol of power in Westeros. As he laid his eyes on it, Eragon believed it. There was something untamed in this chair, the very essence of ancient magic and dragons, a sensation akin to what he had felt with Brom's tomb or the Isidar Mithrim. Stories of old, of fire and dragons were kept within these swords.
And there, sitting on top of the throne stood Cersei, looking more regal than Eragon had ever seen her. There was nothing in her posture indicating she had noticed their entrance. Like a marble statue, she sat, resolute on the throne, not a hair out of place, her hands clasping the hilts of two swords.
They remained cautious but their worries were for naught. Cersei was dead, poisoned. Some of the poison was still in the broken vial at her feet.
Dead. The solemnity of that single act had yet to completely reach them when they were forced to jump into action. The Mountain, angered by his previous failure to kill them was trying to correct this and was coming at them. He held one of the biggest swords Eragon had ever seen, keen to cut them in two.
Brisingr was in his hands and before most would even comprehend what was happening, he was parrying a strong stroke. The blow of the two swords, steel against brightsteel colliding against each other rang in the large room. Neither wavered and they quickly fell into a pattern, exchanging blows that could probably cut most men in two, parrying them solely by the strength of their blades. This was one of the duels where two entered the room and only one would leave.
In a way, it felt exhilarating. With the absence of his friends, it had been weeks since Eragon had gotten a good sparring partner. While the Mountain wasn't particularly agile, his immense strength and surprisingly high speed more than compensated for this, making him an exceptionally dangerous opponent. He wasn't keen on making more victims, no matter how twisted and unnatural the mind in front of him felt and looked.
After a quick warning from Saphira who didn't like the idea of her Rider toying with his food, he parried a hit, before twisting his swords in a swift motion, pushing the Mountain's sword out of his hold. But Eragon wasn't done yet. Without losing a second, he deftly grabbed Brisingr with his left hand and cut cleanly the Mountain's right hand in one swift motion.
It fell with a loud thud, the sound of the gauntlet against the stone echoing in the whole room.
Nothing could have prepared them for the sickening smell and the black blood that oozed from the wound. Nothing about the Mountain was normal. It truly felt and looked like an abomination against Nature.
But the Mountain didn't seem bothered by the loss of his sword or his right hand. His left hand immediately went to his back, removing a dagger that was kept in his back. Much like everything related to his opponent, it possessed an immense scale. Eragon knew he couldn't delay and wouldn't be able to stop the fight without killing his opponent. The Mountain's reactions were abnormal, lacking any fear or pain. It brought back old and painful memories of Galbatorix's armies. How they had managed it here, he didn't know, but there was only one outcome to this fight.
As quickly as it had started, Eragon surged to the right, diving out the path of the dagger thrown at him with a jump. What the Mountain hadn't taken into account was the strength of Eragon's jump. Instead of arriving completely exposed on the side, Eragon had jumped far enough to be in reach of the Mountain. With the strong momentum, Brisingr whistled through the air, reaching his foe and separating cleanly the Mountain's head from his shoulders in a clean motion.
He landed on his two feet, as the body of the colossus fell backwards in a disturbing cacophony against the regal silence of the room. The Throne room was the tomb of the last Lannister supporters. The last one alive was quivering in fear in the back of the room. Nothing about his posture indicated a warrior but Eragon wasn't about to let looks deceive him.
But it was Tyrion who offered them the missing information, calling the last man alive they were facing Qyburn. He was the one who brought back the Mountain. He wasn't comfortable saving him when he remembered how broken and unnatural the mind and body of the giant had felt. They could still see the broken remains, oozing black blood. The decision was taken for him when the Dothrakis swarmed the room to secure it. Two of them took the quivering man to be held prisoner.
But at least, they had done it. Daenerys had won the battle for the Iron Throne.