꧁~~~𝑫𝒂𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒔 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏~~~꧂
꧁~~~300 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕~~~꧂
꧁For once, Dany relaxed relatively easy as she sat on the beautifully carved railing of hee balcony over looking all of Meereen. The sun kissed her skin gently, the swift but soft breeze blew her long silver locks lightly as she had them unbraided for the rest of the day. She had a busy one—though that would be an understatement. Over two-hundred-seventeen supplicants came to ask of her for favor, for property and other rights. It had been too long since she tried to play any political games, and she found her being away from it has done neither her or her people any good.
Sighing softly, Dany stared out at the setting sun over the land that was now hers. It was hers by right of conquest, of course, but still hers. But the sad truth was, that even if she slew nearly each and every one of the Masters of Meereen, it did change little. A man had come to her just this day, asking to be sold back into the bounds she struck from him. Daenerys really did not understand, even still, how men would wish to return to chains.
But Missandei said, and Irri agreed, that men grow to love their chains.
And that thought led to another. This one was about Drogo. My sun and stars, Daenerys lightly scoffed, closing her eyes for a long moment, her hand unconsciously traveling to her belly where she could remember her son was kicking barely two years ago. Gods, how the times go by. And that was right. Time went on, and Dany found her memories in the Dothraki Sea drifting further and further away from her. Those memories were the only thing that truly remaind of her Dothraki life. Her Khalasar, the poor excuse of one she led to Qarth was mostly gone. Irri and Rakharo were the only ones who truly remaind by her side.
"It is beautiful, Your Grace."
The voice of the Bold came from behind her, and Dany smiled softly, he came to me, she thought. He remains still. Ser Barristan came forward, stepping onto the balcony poking out from the Great Pyramid, and he leaned agaisnt the stone railing, overlooking the city.
"It is quite something, Ser."
"I never truly imagined it before, seeing such things. The only true glorious sights I had ever seen before coming to mainland Essos were the Stepstones."
"The War of the Nine Penny Kings."
Dany turned with a raised brow, and Ser Barristan nodded at that, smiling only barely in the memory of what had happened.
"The last Blackfyre Rebellion. I slew Maelys the Monsterous before he could take the life of Ser Jorah's father, Jeor Mormont."
Dany raised her brow just a bit higher at that, having never heard much of Jorah's father before. Matter of fact, the old knight had rarely spoken of his family, aside from the fact he was banished from his lands, and that he wished to return to them one day.
"Jeor Mormont?"
"Aye. Jeor Mormont. Last I heard from him, he was the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
"The Lord Commander of the order that protects the Seven Kingdoms in the far North?"
Daenerys asked curiously, and Barristan nodded at that.
"The shield that guard the Realms of Men. You'll find the words of their vows similar to that of a Kingsguard. Your ancestor, Visenya herself, based the oaths of the Kingsguard after the Night's Watch."
Daenerys smiled brightly. Learning something knew, even if it was as simple as the fact there was a seven-hundred foot tall wall of pure ice between her what was rightfully hers and whatever lied past it. It was always a learning moment with the Bold.
"Do you know a lot about Visenya Targaryen?"
"Scarce little, Your Grace. The best I could truly tell is she rode a dragon alongside Aegon and their sister Rhaenys, and that she wielded the Valyrian Steel sword Dark Sister."
"Dark Sister.."
"Aye, Dark Sister. Funny enough, the Wall and the Night's Watch connect with that sword, did you know?"
The Old Knight asked, and Dany leaned forward, even more curious than she had been previously. She shook her head.
"No, I did not know. Tell me."
"Well, it was never a sure thing, but Dark Sister has been missing for close to a century. The last known wielder of Visenya's sword was a Targaryen bastard named Bryden Rivers, I believe. He was one of the most dangerous men in Westeros once. He put down several of the Blackfyre Rebellions."
"How does this bastard connect with the Night's Watch, then?"
Ser Barristan shrugged a little at that, and it seemed he did not exactly know the whole truth of what had happened decades ago, and Dany couldn't blame him. It was a long time ago.
"I at one point served King Aegon V Targaryen, many, many years ago. He was the one that banished Brynden for breaking his word and slaying an enemy when he promised safe conduct."
Ser Barristan sighed, stretching his neck just a little bit before returning back to leaning agaisnt the railing, crossing his fingers together.
"He was banished to the Wall, where it's thought he took Dark Sister with him."
"He stole it?"
"The sword was his by right, and King Aegon believed it would further his turn his grand-uncle agaisnt him."
"Huh.."
Daenerys turned back to look at the setting sun, thinking a little bit more on the subject of the names to people she shared blood with, but had no true knowledge of them. Finally turning back to the knight with a slight frown, she asked her next question.
"So Dark Sister is gone, truly?"
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Who could know, Your Grace."
But at his own words, Barristan frowned as he looked to be in even deeper thought, seemingly sifting through countless memories from the past Daenerys could only barely imagine.
"When I faced Maelys, the monster was poised to kill Ser Jorah's father."
"Jeor Mormont, you said."
"Right. Mormomt was on the ground, crawling to his House' Valyrian sword, but..what's strange is that Maelys seemed to recognize either old Jeor or his sword.."
Barristan squinted his eyes, scrunching his face as if it would help him remember. Daenerys leaned even closer than she did before, amazed and curious beyond what she had been prior, as each time the Old Knight spoke, he seemed to have another mystery to share.
"House Mormomt has a Valyrian Steel sword?"
"That's what I was wondering myself, my Queen... It doesn't add up."
Daenerys turned away to look back at the disappearing sun, thinking hard on what the Old Knight has shared. It doesn't effect her in any way, or should, no, but it still intrigued her greatly. Ser Barristan sighed heavily then, face looking down to the ground as Dany turned to face him yet again with confusion and concern.
"What?"
"While on the topic of..Mormont."
Ser Barristan leaned back up and took a scroll from his belt, holding it out to her as she stared at the wax seal with concern.
"What is this?"
꧁꧂
The sun had set, leaving the world surrounding Meereen shrouded in darkness. Though there were still light from the millions of stars in the sky, they were blurred and darkened by how the fury in Dany's expression made her eye twitch slightly. The tall doors leading to the throne room of the Great Pyramid were opened by her Unsullied, the warriors opening the door in uniform fashion before standing once more at attention, spears and shield ready. And there in the center of the doorway, was Ser Jorah Mormont.
From the moment his eyes landed on her, and hers on him, Dany immediately clenched her fists tight, enough so that her knuckles had turned white. No matter how hard she tried to make it otherwise, her heart pounded within her chest, and not in any good sort of way. She was furious, and she barely could control her own thoughts and feelings in that moment.
Jorah looked to swallow thickly, and he approached slowly and cautiously. He came to the bottom step up towards her throne, and had the audacity to dare take another step, and then one more. But before he could take a third, Daenerys raised her hand, eyes set on him in a glare.
"That's far enough."
"My Queen, I—"
"I said, "That. Is. Far. Enough.""
And the Mormont had listened, as he did not take that third step. Instead, he bowed his head, looking to the floor in what appeared as shame. But through the haze of her anger, Daenerys only saw him looking for an excuse.
"I—"
"Why in the name of every god believed in this world did the Usurper, Robert Baratheon pardon you?"
Jorah opened his mouth and closed it several times, trying and failing to come up with a reason. Excuses, Dany thought with flames. Excuses he gives me. Excuses and lies and treachery..she felt as though her grip on her emotions and on literally everything was slipping. This man before her had raised her, almost. Since the wedding between her and Khal Drogo, Jorah Mormont was there for her. And all this time..she was too angery to finish the thought.
"Why!?"
Her voice boomed loudly when Jorah did not answer in a sufficient time.
"Why in bloody hell did he pardon you!?"
"I wished to go home, Khaleesi."
Jorah took one more step, and Grey Worm and Ser Barristan immediately took a step of their own respectively, gripping their respective weapons just a bit tighter, a warning. Jorah looked at her with pleading eyes, but her only response would be fury.
"The day I left it all, I wanted to go back. Every waking moment when I fought for the Golden Company, I wanted to go back home. I—"
"You would have gone home when I sail for the Seven Kingdoms—for my birthright!"
"And how was I to expect you to do that?"
Jorah questioned, and it looked as though there were tears in his eyes. Daenergs felt some in her own, but she refused to let them fall, clenching her fists even tighter.
"With your brother a fool, and you a young girl then, how was I to expect the Targaryen Dynasty to rise from the ashes?"
"My danasty did. I rose from the ashes with three living dragons—my sons. Or did you forget that when writing away my secrets to the Spider and the Old Lion?"
"Daenerys, I—"
"Do not ever presume to call me by name again."
Jorah dropped to his knees, a tear falling from his eyes as he looked up to his queen with grief, regret, and fear. But Daenerys looked away, staring ahead blankly as she gritted her teeth, her nose flaring slightly as she could feel her blood boil.
"You sold my secrets to the Usurper and his allies, you told them everything. From my brother's death, to the conception of my child with Drogo, you told them everything!"
"Khaleesi—"
"Do not call me that! You lied to me and betrayed me from the first to the last, and for that you should die."
The room was dangerous, and so was her blank stare ahead at the wall. But his words that followed made it ten times as dangerous.
"I love you.."
Her shoulders stiffened, and her dead glare shifted down to Jorah as he remained kneeling, eyes filled with sorrow and grief, begging for a reprieve. But the only reprieve that Dany would give him was one of a first and final warning and chance.
"Get the hell out of my city."
Sighing deeply, Daenerys nearly sneered at the Mormont—the man she hardly recognized.
"Get out of my city, and never return. Should the Second Sons or Unsullied find you here remaining come dawn, I will have you burned alive, and your ashes shall be part of the pile I stand upon when I take what is mine."
Her word was final, and outside, thunder cracked after the flash of lightning. Jorah stood on shakey legs, and he held her glare with fear.
"I..."
He knew better than to finish, and with the chance the Mother of Dragons has given him, Ser Jorah turned away and left the throne room of the Great Pyramid, and after, Meereen and her trust forever.
꧁꧂
Her right hand shook almost violently as Dany grabbed it with her left, squeezing tightly in an attempt to stop it. Her veins was coursing blue and purple, she could tell. Even from the darkness in Meereen and on her balcony above it all, she could see the vile poison that had loomed over her like a shadow in the night.
"Khaleesi.."
The voice of Irri came from behind her as she gazed out into the darkness. Her loyal Dothraki handmaiden came beside her warily, unsure as to how volatile her Khaleesi was at any given moment. But Daenerys simply just gazed out at nothing before speaking.
"Never betray me."
She said with a tone that made a shiver of coldness and fear run down the Dothraki girl's back. But she nodded obediently nonetheless.
"Never, Khaleesi.."
"Never."
Dany repeated, her tone now turned solemn as she gazed out at the darkness, sighing.
"Could I bring you something, perhaps?"
Irri offered, taking a step forward and coming to her Khaleesi's side. Daenerys really pondered for a moment, turning and staring at the loyal handmaiden that was Irri. Even after..after what they did—what she did—Irri still stuck around. With guilt in her eyes and in her heart, Daenerys turned away from Irri, shaking her head, disgusted with herself.
"No. No, thank you...sorry."
"It's going to be all right, Khaleesi. Sometimes, the bad lingers for a long time. But the good will always come back."
Daenerys turned back to her for a second, seeing Irri smile brightly at her. But still feeling guilty, Daenerys could only half-smile, nodding before turning to gaze back out at the darkness over Meereen. It wasn't long before Irri took her que to leave. And when she die, Daenerys immediately slumped down a bit, resting her head on the railing as she held her arms behind her head in frustration.
"You have not listened to me, Mother of Dragons."
Daenerys' eyes shot open, and she spun quickly around to the sound of the Shadow. And sure enough, there was Quaithe, her mask of stars and violet eyes shining as the mysterious woman stepped forward.
"You did not heed my words."
"How..how could I heed your words when I do not even understand them?"
"They were but simple instructions. Follow the—"
"—the sword in the morning and evening star, yes. That Red Priestess has told me the same thing."
"So the Lord Himself has sent one of His own to you to instruct you to open your eyes, and yet you have not."
Dany shook her head, and frustrated tears began to stream down her cheeks. So much has happened, so much was going on, and Dany was just completely and utterly surrounded. It only was another moment that passed, and Dany couldn't handle it as she leaned against the railing and sank down to the cold, stony floors crying.
Through her tears, Daenerys saw the mysterious Shadow approach.
"The Warlocks of Qarth have a strange magic, Mother of Dragons. It is difficult, isn't it, child?"
"Y-You have no idea.."
Dany spoke out with a tearful stutter, which made her feel even worse and more ashamed of herself as she hugged her legs close to her chest.
"You have no idea the loss I've suffered. Losing your child, losing your brother, your family—everything.."
And for nearly a minute of painful sobs, Daenerys did not hear a word from the magic woman, not even one. Sniffling a bit as she looked from her tear stained dress, Daenerys saw how Quaithe was still there, but the woman's haunting violet eyes only stared at the ground, and for perhaps the first time ever, Dany could see a human side of the woman. A side she didn't even know existed within her.
"I shall tell you a story, Mother of Dragons. A story of my own. I shall tell you this as a woman, not as the Shadow. And I shall tell it once and only once."
"W-Why..?"
Dany whispered to her, but Quaithe only moved beside her, sitting down and leaning against the railing. Even as she promised to speak as an actual person, Quaithe still remained masked, and Daenerys had a fool's hope she'd remove it. But clearly, that hope was a bit misplaced as Quaithe began to speak.
"A story is a song. And this song began in a castle, who's walls stood taller than others, who's stone towers were melted and twisted like candle sticks. There was a feast and a tournament in this castle and lands, where vultures of every kind came and devoured all that was offered. And the songs merged together to truly create something beautifully destructive. Smiles grew, and smiles died, and blood did follow."
As Daenerys listened throughout, she couldn't help but notice how Quaithe, the mysterious woman with an agenda unknown, became emotional. No tears were cried, and no sobs were sobbed, bit Dany could tell that the woman struggled telling the story, no matter how confusing it might have been to decipher.
"I had been there when I was young, before the Shadow. The name's of the ones who were there have mostly faded to history, but I still have memories of their faces, of their words and their songs. Those memories are all that is left when the vultures took everything else."
Shaking her head a little, Quaithe turned to Daenerys, violet eyes connecting with her own as she sighed through the mask of stars.
"You say I have not suffered the same as you, when indeed I have. A brother I lost, honorably yet also in a dishonorable way. Children I had lost as well, though they were not mine own blood and flesh. A man I did love did betray me and my honor by marrying another, for duty... Duty and honor.."
Quaithe chuckled lightly, crossing her arms across the dark silk covered chest, turning her head and looking up into the dark sky. Dany followed her gaze, her violet eyes too looking up towards the sky. And the darkness in the sky parted, there hung a bright, lovely star in the South.
"Duty and honor comes at a price, and so too did our love... The point, Mother of Dragons, is that you must survive. No matter the horrors you have suffered and the ones you have yet to, you must survive."
Turning to her, Quaithe's hands wrapped with Dany's, making her turn to her with a softened look.
"For the Lord's sake, for my sake, for the entire world's sake, you must survive, oh Mother of Dragons. You must find him."
꧁~~~𝑫𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒔 𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉~~~꧂
꧁It had been a while, yes—a long while—but Davos smiled a bit as he saw the Wall again for the first time in nearly twenty or so years. He could still remember how Eastwatch-by-the-Sea was the first place he had smuggled anything to. Stolen goods, of course, but at least he wasn't the one who actually stole it. A delivery boy, he was, in a sense. And eventually, he became good at it. But the sentiment of looking out to where the Wall ends and the castle that stands there just made Davos feel old.
Stannis stood firm and strong, as a King should as he stood at the front end of the rowboat, crossing the shakey sea. The men, the newer ones who had not fought at Blackwater, were still getting accustomed to ships and water. Some would never, as Davos knew that even being here this far North, in the winters that this place had would surely kill many before they ever hained any sea-legs.
But finally, they landed at one of the docks stretching from the castle of Eastwatch, and men dressed all in black leathers and furs awaited them. Some of the Night's Watch men threw over ropes for them all to tie the boats in transporting the men and supplies they had, as well as the horses. Stannis was the first to step foot on the docks, and Davos aimed to join beside him. But the Red Woman stood up first and stepped up with the help of Stannis. He turned away without saying anything, but Melisandre merely raised a brow to Davos as he scoffed, climbing onto the docks.
"I wasn't sure you lot were kidding."
Stannis, Melisandre and Davos approached the older, rougher looking man standing beside his lot of Black Brothers.
"And here I was believing that you were not mad enough to come here."
"You are addressing the one true King of the Seven Kingdoms, good ser. I believe it is a customary to present yourself in the rightly manner for such occasions."
"Ah, I didn't catch the name."
"He is Lord Davos Seaworth, and a knight as well."
Stannis spoke up in favor of Davos, cutting him off just a bit as the older man looked to Stannis with a raised brow.
"He is a good a man as you will find, and I expected a warmer welcome."
"We don't have much accommodations for Kings, mummers or otherwise."
"Did you just call him a mu—"
"Lord Davos Seaworth, now I remember."
The man chuckled, shaking his head with a smile before stepping forward, outstretched his hand.
"It's harder to recognize an old friend after the years, wouldn't you say?"
Davos was still drawing blanks, looking upon the scarred face of the older man. It looked like he had gotten sick, scars from old rashes covered what was once perhaps a shining young face. But now, it was an old, flaky one at best. Davos shrugged a bit, shaking his head somewhat awkwardly as he shook the man's hand.
"Can't say I remember."
"Cotter Pyke. If I remember it right, you delivered to us once or twice back in the days before Robert was King."
Davos did remember now, and he was surprised to say the least. Back in the days he spoke of, Cotter Pyke, the bastard of the Iron Islands, was a young, fresh looking man, just like Davos was. A bit more rugged, as he was from the Iron Islands, but still fresh and fit. But it seems the years in the Night's Watch has done a number on him.
"Ha, you don't say? It's been a long time, old friend."
"Long enough to forget about me, it seems."
"Oh, well—"
"Forget about it, eh? It's fine."
Cotter Pyke smiled, chuckling as he shook his head. Stannis, the man who never seemed to find any amusement in anything, did not break that streak here as he raised a brow to the other man.
"So you received our raven and our letter. You know why I am here."
"Yeah, the whole damn Watch knows. But I can't really say you can do much."
"And how is that, ser?"
Stannis tilted his head up, that remarkable Baratheon pride showing once more as Pyke was going to answer, but Melisandre stepped forward, a smirk across her lips, her red eyes filled with fire.
"Stannis is the Lord's Chosen, did you not hear?"
"Ah, you must be the Red Witch the whole damn Realm whispers about. But forgive me, malady, but Mance Rayder—that no good traitor—has been calling himself King-beyond-the-Wall for years now, and he's had a lot more time to prepare and get used to this cold before you lot have."
"He calls himself King?"
Stannis questioned, and Davos cleared his throat, nodding.
"A false claim."
"We're not in the Seven Kingdoms, Davos. This is the Wall, set apart from every kingdom, finding itself its own sovereignty in this fucking shithole."
Cotter Pyke shook his head, before looking back to Stannis with a frown.
"Your lot are going to take some time, I'd imagine, gettin' them horses and supplies out of the ships. Then it will take time to get them through the gates to the other side, which is where I'm guessing you're going, yeah?"
"It is."
"All this will take time..Your Grace."
Davos could pick up how he hesitantly said the formal acknowledgement of Stannis, and the Baratheon seemed to catch on quite easily as well.
"Your people aren't used to this cold. Many will surely die on the march you surely plan."
"Probably."
Stannis stated simply as Pyke shook his head a bit.
"Even still, you don't have the men to fight off the Wildlings. There's been a report from Castle Black, a report from Benget Stark."
And at the mention of the name, both Davos and Stannis looked between each other in surprise. His name had not been mentioned for a long time, and most in probably all Seven Kingdoms assumed that he was dead.
"The Stark boy's alive?"
"Surprised? Yeah, me too. Snow White, it seems, has a habit of coming back. He first came back with scars and a story after having ran with Wildlings, apparently climbing the Wall with them. Then, he came back from a raid he organized on Craster's Keep to take out a dozen or so Night's Watch mutineers. His report is that they saw Wildlings close by, and this report only came in three days ago, and that's just because of the weather. Can't fly birds back and forth that well."
"So they're near."
Pyke nodded grimly at that.
"A day or two away, perhaps. They're going to hit Castle Black hard. It will be a slaughter."
"Then the Lord's Chosen is there only hope."
Melisandre stated, more like affirmed it to herself as Cotter Pyke scoffed, before chuckling.
"Aye. Maybe. There's a chance it could be a slaughter on both sides. The Dayne boy has been making soldiers out of farm boys. Not to complement the Starks too kindly, but the boy's got more balls and brains that Thorne does. I'm just glad the Old Bear had it so that Thorne wouldn't be coming here."
"How far away is Castle Black from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea?"
Davos spoke up, the concern rising and the realization that a storm was close to bursting, was smashing in. Cotter Pyke raised a brow, shrugging a little.
"Some time, perhaps. We've got a snowstorm coming. I'd gander that's when Mance will attack. They'll hold out for a time, but..I'd get your asses moving if you want to save them."
The words left an eery feeling crawl of Davos' spine, making him turn to Stannis with a raised brow. Everyone there who heard the Commander of Eastwatch knew what was coming, and how Castle Black was going to be facing something nobody could truly imagine. A thousand to one odds.
"Many of them shall not grow old."
Melisandre spoke quietly, eyes staring off towards a distant flaming torch.
꧁~~~𝑻𝒚𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓~~~꧂
꧁Tyrion could only eat just a little that morning. He did not have the stomach to eat much at all, as this day would be the day his fate was decided. As the Gold Cloaks escorted him in chains to the trial grounds by the sea, he could see two pitched tents on opposite sides, of orange and gold, Clegane and Martell.
And he saw the Red Viper under his open tent of Dornish colors, smiling away and drinking what Tyrion could take the gander as to what it was. Dornish strongwine, perhaps. Doubtful that it was anything but. The crowd was large, and they cheered on what was going to happen. Pompous fools, Tyrion thought as he looked at all of them with spite and anger. But most of all, he looked upon his father, his sister and his brother all with a look ten times as hard. Jaime least of all, and Cersei most. The hateful bitch got what she wanted most of the time, and Tyrion prayed that today that would not be the case.
"Drinking loosens the muscles, makes you less tense for the fight ahead of you."
Tyrion turned to Oberyn, who banished that cocky smile as that paramour of his leaned agaisnt him, rubbing his lightly armored chest up and down.
"I could tell you were going to ask why just by your eyes."
"And could you tell my follow up question was going to be about why in Seven Hells are you not wearing much in the way of armor, let alone a damn helmet?"
"I always drink before a fight, and I always dress lightly. I like to move around. And besides, I also like a bit of a challenge.
Oberyn chuckled, taking another swig of his wine as Tyrion sighed heavily, feeling despair creep closer and closer to him with each moment. The crowd's cheer grew louder when Cersei's champion walks up the steps to the fighting ground ahead, and Tyrion's breath caught in his throat.
The Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane, was taller than say said, towering high like an actual mountain. And unlike the Prince of Dorne, he was well dressed for the occasions, dorning actually armor, some of it plated with chainmail work underneath, and a damn helmet as well. He was a warrior, and Tyrion began to pray twice as hard in his head.
"Do not worry, my friend."
Oberyn finished his wine, setting it down on the table as he smiled to him.
"It's all part of the plan."
The plan, Tyrion thought as he watched Ellaria Sand and Oberyn kiss passionately. The plan. The plan, it seemed, was something Tyrion still could jot comprehend. If the Red Viper does win this day, Tyrion could never stay in King's Landing with the Red Queen still seeking blood. Essos, he then though. Daenerys Stormborn. The Mother of Dragons. And with that thought, he gave Oberyn a side eye, wondering if it were all just a plan to get him killed in a more excruciating manner. He could think of a more painful death than Dragonfire, of they're even real.
Horns did blow to silence the crowd of chattering, cheering lords and ladies. Grandmaster Pycelle, the oaf, came to the center of the circle, standing up the painted Lion of House Lannister.
"We are here to ascertain..the guilt o-or innocence of this...uh, man, Tyrion Lannister."
Scoffing lightly, Tyrion looked to the higher stands and he met the green, violent eyes of his oh so sweet sister. Cersei glared hard at him, and Tyrion merely glared right back. This was it. This is what she wanted all of her life, ever since he came into it. Tyrion's small fists clenched tightly, knuckles turning white.
"May the Mother grant him mercy. M-May the Father grant him such justice that—"
Tyrion almost smiled when the old bloak was cut off by his father signaling for the horn blowers to blow once more. Huffing a bit, Pycelle scurried off, as quick as his old legs could take him. And the crowd began to cheer once more wondering just what kind of a sight they would see before them.
"Father.."
Tyrion turned a little to his right, and he saw a clearly Dornish girl standing alongside a rack of spears. He had not noticed her, but Tyrion could make the assumption that this was one of Prince Oberyn's bastards, one of many.
"Do make him suffer."
The girl spoke, and Prince Oberyn smiled at that, turning to Tyrion for a moment before looking back to his daughter.
"I intend to."
A squire who had been oiling one of the spears tosses it to Oberyn in the next moment, and Oberyn grinned as he caught it in the air.
"Shall we begin?"
He said to nobody in particular, but loud enough for all to here as he began to preform. He spun the long spear around, spinning it quite skillfully that Tyrion could barely keep up with how many times he spun around. And finally, performance stopped, and the Prince of Dorne held the biggest grin on his face, staring directly at Tywin as the crowd cheered their praises.
Turning to the Mountain, who brandished his mighty greatsword, Oberyn's face showed no fear, only a smile.
"Have your masters told you who I am, dog?"
"Some dead man!"
The Mountain lunged forward with speed that was surprising for a man his size. Robert was not even that big, and he was a beast in his own right, Tyrion knew. Everyone watched in awe as the Red Viper merely sidestepped the Mountain, avoiding him easily.
"No, no, no, that is rude of them not to inform you of who the man is that will kill you."
"Shut up, dead man!"
Clegane made another move, raising his heavy greatsword into the air and smashing it down like a hammer, but again, Prince Oberyn dodged with ease, shaking his head. Tyrion watched on with wide eyes, trying and failing to open his mouth to shout to the bloody fool to not mess around.
"I am Oberyn Martell, a Prince Dorne. Princess Elia, she was my sister. Do you remember her?"
"Wh—"
It was then that the Red Viper struck, and woth astonishing speed, he thrusted his spear forward, just grazing the Mountain's helmet, and knocking him a bit off balance.
"Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne. You raped her."
"Shut up!"
The mountain of man came down hard with a fury, leveying uncoordinated but devastating swings with his sword that could cut through even the best of shields ever fashioned. But Oberyn, knocked away the blade again and again as he spun his spear around, shaking his head as Tyrion and all could see the anger really starting to bubble up to the surface.
"You murdered her. You killed her children."
The Mountain swung hard, and Oberyn quickly ducked, countering quickly and thrusting his spear forward sharply, cutting along the plated armor of the Mountain, but left him unharmed.
"Did you come to talk!?"
The Mountain shouted, and Oberyn shook his head angerly, keeping up with the pace of the fight.
"I came to this shitpile of a city for your confession. You raped her!"
Oberyn shouted, going hard on the offensive as his dangerous and swift strikes with the spear pushed the Mountain onto the defensive, backing up and trying to create a bit of space between the two.
"You murdered her! You killed her children!"
"My love is toying with him."
Ellaria spoke with a smirk as the two men fought on hard, and Tyrion's jaw was almost hanging on the floor, his eyes looking quickly between the paramour and the fight with shock and fear.
"Are you kidding me? The Mountain is too bloody big to be any man's toy!"
"Elia of Dorne! Say it! Say her name!"
The Prince shouted, as the monster and man still fought on, with Oberyn pushing Clegane to his absolute limits physically and mentally as well.
"Shut up!"
The Moutain screamed, fighting back the absolute onslaught that was the Red Viper. But he would have no such luck here, Oberyn had lost his cool right then and there.
"Say it! Say her name! Elia of Dorne! Her children, Aegon and Rhaenys! Say. Their. Names!"
"Ahhhh!"
The Mountain cried out in pain as Oberyn swiftly spun around on the smooth stone ground, taking his spear just as smoothly and put it to the back of Gregor's knee, sliding it across and tear it straight open, making the Mountain fall to his knees. Backing away, panting heavily and with fury in his eyes, Oberyn Martell leaped forward into the air, screaming.
"EELLIAAA!"
The name rung out just as loud as the spear that broke off into the Mountain's chest, the pressure of the plunge was just too great for the spear as it snapped. Oberyn landed perfectly, and the Mountain lied flat on his back, sucking in heavy and pained breathers through sputters of blood coming up his throat.
"Yes!"
Tyrion cried out, a smile striking across his lips. He has done it. The crazy bastard has done it!
But it seemed, that the Red Viper was not yet done. Scoffing, he threw down the broken half of the spear still in his hands, bending over and picking up the heavy greatsword of Gregor Clegane as he began to circle around the man, his eyes lost in hatred and anger.
"You are dying?"
Oberyn scoffed, almost smiling as he shook his head.
"No, no, no, you have not yet said her name. You have not yet confessed!"
Sending a sharp kick to Clegane's head, the Mountain's helmet came flying off, and revealing a tired and relatively bloody face of him. Oberyn smiled at that.
"There he is. There's the man."
Looking up to his father, Tyrion looked between both Tywin and Oberyn stared at each other, a war raging in both their eyes. For a moment, Tyrion figured he would call for another spead, and hurl it at Tywin. But if that were the case, it would have already happened.
"Tell me, Mountain: who gave you the orders? Who ordered you to rape my sister, carve up her children and smash their fucking heads in? Who!?"
Another kick, and Tyrion began to worry more and more, his smile dropping away as Oberyn moved and stood over the Mountain, legs on either side and the tip of the greatsword held just above his heart.
"Elia of Dorne, say her name! Say. Her. Name!"
The Mountain would say her name. He would confess to it all. But not at all how Oberyn, Ellaria, the bastard daughter or Tyrion wanted. As the Red Viper saw only that; red, the Mountain saw a chance and took it. In the next moment, a loud crack and snap rung out, followed by a scream as the Mountain pulled Oberyn's legs close with his massive swinging arms and snapped it.
Oberyn immediately cried out in shock and pain, falling down right Clegane as the Mountain began to laugh.
"Elia of Dorne!"
The Mountain swiftly grabbed Oberyn by the neck, sending a devastating punch to the man's mouth, shattering and spalttering blood and teeth all on the ground as the crowd and Tyrion shouted in shock.
"I killed her screaming whelps. Then I raped her.."
Oberyn began to scream in utter agony, and the Mountain only laughed even harder as he pressed his thumbs into his eyes, bloody pouring out as he squeezed harder and harder.
"And then I smashed her fucking head in like like this!"
And with a shout of strength and fury, Gregor Clegane squeezed as hard as he possibly could, and the Red Viper's skull could not take the pressure, shattering his blood a gore launching itself everywhere, erecting screams of utter horror from devastation from Ellaria and her daughter, from the crowd of once cheering people, and from Tyrion himself for a moment before he found himself puking up his breakfast onto the ground.
Tywin stood up slowly, and it would've been hard to miss the slight smirk that Cersei wore as their father spoke.
"The gods have made their will known. Tyrion Lannister."
"No, no, no, no, no.."
Tyrion muttered as he shook almost uncontrollably, eyes so wide they could almost fall out.
"In the name of King Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of His Name..you are here by sentenced to death."
And that was it. The Imp of Lannister could only stare in utter shock and disbelief as the Sands could only weep in horror and misery over the Red Viper of Dorne, and the names of the Princess and her children that would not be avenged this day.
꧁~~~A/N~~~꧂
Holy, Goddang, we're pretty far along in the story, aren't we? I only really just realized that while writing this chapter and Oberyn's rather brutal death. Anyways, this chapter is sort of like a filler chapter, as there is no Ben or Jon POV, and those two have the main story. But this chapter is meant to be filler, but also set up the ending chapter of this arc and also set up future arcs as well.
So, I really hope you guys enjoy this one! Thank you so much for reading this far! It really does mean a lot to me to see you guys enjoy this story, so please leave a comment or even a message telling me what you all think! Thank you!