Chapter 128 - Remember This Day

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The Army of the North and the Wildlings were happy to be finally be seeing some action in this siege. Loki and Daenerys decided that the rougher (and more reckless) soldiers be the first through the gates of the city. The ram the Men of the North and the Wildlings had been working on was completed, and needed to be operated by twenty-five men: ten men on either side to push, and five in the back to pull the ropes to swing it. At Daenerys' request, the head had been fashioned into that of a horned dragon. "I can trust you to maintain a shield a protection over the ram?" Daenerys queried. Loki nodded his head as he prepared to go with the advance party of Northerners and Wildlings.

"I also expect the dragons to create quite a distraction of their own," Loki said as he put his helmet on. He neglected to wear his cape as the decorative accessory could be used against him in hand to hand combat.

"They will do as I bid them," Daenerys said.

"When may I enter the city?" Daahrio Naharis asked, eager to join in the fray.

"When I give the order," was the queen's response. Her bodyguard nodded his head and left them alone. Tyrion shook Loki's hand firmly and Loki smiled at his friend and queen.

"This day will be ours," he said before he teleported himself to the gate. The Lannister soldiers looked down over the battered walls and saw him standing alone. "Hello," Loki said and an idiot fired an arrow. It went through the illusion and Loki reappeared a few feet away. "Now, that wasn't nice," he drawled. The Lannisters drew back their arrows, ready to fire again, but that was when the Northerners and Wildlings appeared, dragging the battering ram.

"Archers! Fire!" a captain ordered and they began to shoot. With a flick of his wrist, Loki conjured up a shield and the arrows bounced off. Whenever they made contact, a ripple of green spread out.

"Sorcery!" somebody shouted from the walls.

"Now we have a firm grasp of the obvious," Loki mumbled as he walked to where the attackers had lined up the ram and were beginning to pound the Mud Gate with it.

"It's about time! My ax is hungry," Tormund Giantsbane said as Loki stepped beside him. Loki shrugged and his lips quirked up slightly.

"Don't worry. Like the ever hungry hound, Garm, your ax will take lives as he consumes souls," Loki said, alluding to the pup his own son had fathered, who now guarded his daughter's realm of Niffleheim.

"Is this Garm a formidable creature?" Tormund Giantsbane queried. Loki had only seen his grandson once in his lifetime, and he knew that he was everything like his terrifying father.

"He is a demon bound in wolf form," Loki responded. The Wildling looked at his ax and grinned.

"My weapon has no name. If you say this monster is truly a demon, then so shall my ax be," Tormund said and Loki smiled.

"Heave!" Rickard Karstark bellowed and the ram was swung round. Loki turned to the great weapon and his eyes glowed green. The next blow from the mighty ram smashed through the gate, sending splinters flying, and soldiers into the courtyard to defend against the incoming onslaught. "Men of the North! For the Starks!" Lord Karstark bellowed and they charged in. The Wildlings simply roared and followed, with Tormund Giantsbane leading them. Loki just stood back for an instant, watching. He had done this thousands of times: sent his men forward and then waited in the back. He used those few precious moments to contemplate the situation and consider for an instant if there could have been a better outcome. His mind would go through flurry of possible ways to solve a problem and see if it could have been solved without violence. But in this instance, Loki's mind always ended in bloodshed. That was the only language these people could speak really well. Only a select few could play the mind game, the game that Loki excelled at. Not that he was bad at being violent. This thought brought a smirk to his lips and he created a spear. He teleported himself inside the city and was quick to spike a Lannister soldier who tried to stab a Northerner in the back.

"Kill them all!" shouted a voice and Loki turned his head. He saw Ser Meryn Trant attempting to keep the Kingsguard under control. Loki grinned as he rested his spear across his shoulders and approached the little twerp. Ser Meryn did not see him until he suddenly spun around and found himself staring into Loki's golden chest plate. "Shit!" the knight exclaimed before Loki punched him in the chest, sending him flying backwards and into a wall. Loki twirled his spear off his shoulders, leveling it at the man.

"Ready for one final embarrassment?" Loki queried dryly. Ser Meryn put on a brave face and gripped his sword tighter.

"It's time you were sent back to hell, demon!" he snapped back. Loki chuckled and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. He allowed his Jotun form to appear and Ser Meryn was frozen where he stood. He watched in utter horror as the cold blue crept up Loki's neck, and the markings followed it. When Loki lowered his head and opened his eyes, they were no longer green. They were a bloody red, and glowed like embers.

"Demon, eh? Oh, you have no idea!" Loki said as he swung his spear around. With the force of the weapon, he knocked Ser Meryn to the ground. Stooping down, he grabbed him by the shoulder guard and threw him, taking out several other Lannister soldiers like bowling pins. Loki exhaled and frost came out of his nostrils. Wherever he stepped, the ice spread quickly. Ser Meryn struggled to get up, but he froze when he saw Loki looking down at him. "Those who reap red, die seeing it," Loki said. Before Ser Meryn could do anything else in his own defense, Loki had driven his spear through his neck. With a quick and precise twist, he removed the cranium from the spinal column and watched as the head rolled a few feet. He retrieved his spear and advanced with the Wildlings and the Northerners. They caught sight of his skin change and for a brief instant, they were afraid of him. Until they saw his powers of ice.

"The Stranger is among us!" one of the Stark men shouted. The cry of 'Frostborn' was taken up, and it set Loki's blood on fire. These people worshiped him. Where the Asgardians had scorned him and the Jotuns forgotten him; the Westerori revered him as a god.

"Frostborn! Frostborn! Frostborn!" the men proclaimed and they charged the Lannisters. The defenders were pushed back.

"Stand your ground! Stand your ground!" Kevan Lannister ordered as he shouldered his way to the front of the line. However, he was speared right in the chest upon arrival. His eyes widened as Loki picked him up and held him overhead. That was before he dropped him to the ground and stepped over his corpse.

"Mountain! Mountain! Mountain!" The call that Loki had not heard since he arrived in Westeros, reached his ears. An evil grin spread across his face and he watched as the soldiers parted for Gregor Clegane. He twirled his spear and parted from the Wildlings and the Northerners. He and the Mountain were soon standing before each other.

"Thought I killed you," the Mountain stated and Loki chuckled.

"'Thought' being the operative word for you," Loki responded. He found himself throwing himself back at the waist to avoid having his head taken off by the Mountain's claymore. Loki spun his spear and jabbed Clegane in the side with the shaft. The big man doubled over and Loki rolled over his back, landing on his knees on the other side of him. Spinning just as quickly, he took the Mountain's legs out from under him, sending him sprawling onto his back. Loki straddled him and was about to bring his spear through his chest when Gregor Clegane punched him, and knocked him off kilter. Loki rolled away, his spear still in hand and a smirk still upon his face. When Gregor got to his feet, Loki created duplicates of himself, temporarily confusing the brute. With him distracted, Loki drew a knife. He caused his spear to vanish and he waited. He had to take Clegane alive. He had promised a friend that he would gift him that way. He was, however, going to incapacitate him. The Mountain swung at one of the duplicates, immediately causing it to vanish, and another charged at him. Gregor Clegane swung his claymore, cutting the illusion in half and he grinned. However, that smirk died on his lips as he felt a stinging pain in both his legs behind his knees. Loki reappeared right in front of him, and lashed out again, this time taking out the tendons in his wrists and elbows. Clegane fell to the ground, his limbs suddenly useless. Loki gripped his head and yanked it back, and the big man found himself looking up at the individual who had brought him low. "Goodnight, sweet prince," Loki whispered before he pinched a nerve in the Mountain's shoulder and put him to sleep. He let go of the giant and he fell to the ground. He turned to two Wildlings, who had stopped to watch him fight the champion of the Lannisters. "Take him back to camp. Weigh him down with chains. He is for Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne," Loki informed them. The Wildlings nodded and began to drag Gregor Clegane back to their camp. Loki turned and saw the Lannisters were retreating in haste and disarray upon seeing their protector defeated. He grinned. Bring the lambs to the slaughter!

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