The Rise Of A Dragon - Chapter 21: The Siege of Duskendale

Tywin finally decides to move forward with the siege of Dusendale, to much contention.

Two Moons Later  

Rhaegar could not hide his anger as he sat amongst the small council, glaring at each person there but most especially the Hand of the King. 

“The time for negotiations is over.” Tywin said as he stood before the group, “It is clear that the Darklyns and Hollards will not be moved from this fallacy of theirs, our attempts at peace have failed. Now we must act, I will be riding out to Duskendale within the next few days as to join Ser Gerold and proceed with freeing the King.” 

Aerea froze where she stood, knowing that the Lord Hand would not be swayed from this course, seeing the resolve in his eyes. 

“Finally.” Lucerys muttered, “We have spent far too much time, waiting for them to see sense. Force is the only option now.” 

“And just how many lives will be lost in this endeavor?” Rhaegar spoke out. 

“The traitors should have thought of that before they kidnapped the King.” Tywin replied coldly, “This will all be necessary to ensure that order has been restored to the realm.” 

“By making the lords fear the Crown? Will this not send the message that if two houses could be destroyed then theirs will be too?” Rhaegar argued, “Is fear the tool that is needed here?” 

“Fear will ensure that this will never happen again.” Tywin said, “When the lords think of trying to take what is above them and to dare lay a hand on royalty, they will remember what was done to Duskendale and Everhand.” 

“This plot still does nothing to ensure the King’s safety.” Gurnar said, “If we move forward, we must do so knowing that the King may die in the ensuing siege.” 

“He may or he may not.” Tywin replied, “But if he does, we have a better King right here.” 

He then raised a hand to indicate Prince Rhaegar, who in turn glared at him. Even Rhaella and Aerea could not stop themselves from looking at Tywin aghast. 

“That is treasonous talk, Lannister.” Symond said, showing an uncharacteristic anger, “We must be doing all we can to ensure that the King survives, not making plans for after his death.” 

“I only speak the truth that most of you are not acknowledging, this is a risk we must take. Negotiations between this council and Duskendale have proven to be useless, if we continue to sit here waiting for minds to be changed, we shall be sitting here forever whilst our King wastes away.” Tywin said, still not showing much emotion. 

“I believe that Lord Tywin is correct.” The Grand Maester said, “We cannot continue to sit back and allow the King to remain in the hands of traitors.” 

So, this is it? Aerea thought, watching as the small council started to finalize their plans for the siege. 

She felt sick to her stomach, worry for Aerys along with fear for what was to come for the people of Duskendale as she could already see what the siege would look like in her mind. 

On the one hand, Aerea knew that action needed to be taken as it was clear that the Darklyns and Hollards were not going to listen to any terms given to them, and the council was not going to acuise to theirs. And on the other hand, Aerea did not want copious amounts of blood to be spilled, for lives to be ruined all because a select few decided to think only for themselves and not the needs and safety of others. 

There has to be something that can be done, but what?  

~X~

Three Days Later  

Rhaegar stood on the balcony overlooking the Great Yard, watching as the men below prepared to leave for Duskendale. 

Most of the Crown's forces were already surrounding Duskendale, so only Tywin’s small force would be traveling with Lucerys Velaryon on one of the man's ships, allowing them to reach the town in about a day or two. 

He did not agree with the siege, especially as it was more likely to lead to his father’s death rather than his rescue, say nothing of the commoners who would surely be put to death due to Denys’ greed and foolishness. 

And most importantly in Rhaegar’s eyes, the siege felt as if he and everyone else were playing into Tywin’s dark and twisted plot. Worst of all, Rhaegar could not prove his suspicions true, the older man had nothing that could be implicated against him by the prince and his allies. 

But he was not deterred by this, not when Aerea had come to him a few moons earlier to tell him about the interesting conversation she had with Tywin. 

Rhaegar hated how futile all his actions up to this point felt, hated how he knew that he was right, while also being moved like a puppet on a string for Tywin’s pleasure. 

I am a prince and yet I still find myself beholden to the whims of another. Rhaegar thought moodily. 

“My prince.” Rhaegar did not turn his head as he heard Arthur call out to him. 

“Will you be leaving with the others?” Rhaegar asked. 

“I will be.” Arthur answered, “It was decided that Oswell will instead stay behind here in the Keep while I and Barristan head towards Duskendale with the Lord Hand.” 

“Is that so? Who decided this?” 

“Lord Tywin.” 

“How interesting.” Rhaegar said airily, “And just why would he do that?” 

Arthur hesitated before responding, “Perhaps he believes me capable and skilled enough for such an endeavor.” 

While Arthur had come to deeply trust the prince over their years of friendship, it was hard for him to act in a way that did not go against Rhaegar’s desires, especially now with his Kingsguard oath. 

All his life Arthur had dreamed of wearing the white cloak, and now Rhaegar wished for him to risk everything for the miniscule possibility that for who knows how long, Tywin had secretly been orchestrating some convoluted plot to have Aerys killed. 

Without proof such accusations can be ruinous for someone like me. Arthur thought. 

Rhaegar stared at Arthur for a moment before looking away, “Do you know where my mother and sister are?” 

“Queen Rhaella is speaking to Lord Tywin, Lord Lucerys, and Lord Gurnar and the siege, and I believe that Barristan escorted Princess Aerea to her chambers. The princess was saddened by the news of Barristan’s departure last I saw her.” 

Rhaegar was not surprised by that, while Aerea liked all of the Kingsguards, Barristan was her clear favorite. 

A given with how much time the two spend around each other. Barristan is considered by most to be my sister’s personal knight along with being her teacher. Rhaegar thought, “Understandable, you and Barristan are leaving with the expectation that fighting may be required.” 

“I that you have your reservations about-” 

“Reservations does not encapsulate the half of it.” Rhaegar said, “It is clear that no one cares about the obvious truth.” 

“Rhaegar.” Arthur said, “I don’t mean to... If you truly believe that Lord Tywin has done all of this in an effort to have the King die, and have the King’s death not tie back to him in any way, why have you not told anyone else besides the princess, the others and I? Why have we not confronted the Hand?” 

Rhaegar did not respond to Arthur’s questions; he did not even turn to look at Arthur, continuing to stare off into the distance. 

“It feels as if... as if-” 

“As if I want my father to die?” Rhaegar asked. 

Arthur’s eyes widened, “No! That is not what I-” 

“I don’t want my father to die, Arthur. But I can’t deny that life would not be easier if Westeros had a less selfish King ruling it.” Rhaegar said softly. 

This was a thought that Rhaegar had for a few years now, but this was the first time that he had ever said it out loud and to another person. 

For well over a century, House Targaryen had been in decline and had become more beholden to the whims of the nobility after so many failures, deaths, wars, and most importantly the loss of dragons. 

But it was as if Aerys was completely blind to how his actions were alienating their family from the rest of the realm, unable to see that he was doing the Crown no favors by doing nothing to stop the dwindling of their power. 

Dark times are coming; I know they are. Will this be the catalyst? It would be easier for me to ensure that the Seven Kingdoms are prepared for what is to come if I were King, sooner rather than later.  

“I...” Arthur did not know what to say, not sure how to reconcile with this newly expressed belief. 

Rhaegar was not worried about Arthur telling anyone about what he had just said, trusting his oldest friend even with the oaths that Arthur had taken. 

“Despite this, if my father were to perish, it would only be playing into Tywin’s hands, and I very much do not like being made into a puppet for others to use.” 

“The King will be freed, Rhaegar, I promise.” 

“That is not a promise that can be confidently kept, but I appreciate your sincerity, Arthur. Not with someone like Tywin, although, I suppose if the worst comes to pass, then I will simply relieve Tywin of his position as Hand once I become King, even if I cannot just accuse him of treason, not without any evidence. I cannot have a Hand that seeks their own rise above the needs of the realm.” 

“No, you cannot.” Arthur said. 

Arthur knew that Rhaegar was able to see the world differently than he was, to believe in something so fervently and without fear of what could go wrong and sometimes Arthur wished he could move through life the way Rhaegar did. 

Rhaegar’s eyes narrowed when he caught sight of his mother, Tywin, Lucerys, and Gurnar as they exited the Keep and walked into the yard while still in the mist of conversation. 

What a conniving man, if he was lusting for the power of anyone else, I would almost be impressed by the length Tywin has been willing to go.  

The game of thrones was not for the faint of heart, but Rhaegar saw himself as more than prepared for it and for men like Tywin who thought themselves masters of it. 

Tywin thinks himself a cleaver schemer, he underestimates me along with everyone else, but he is a fool to do so.  

Whether or not Tywin succeeded in his villainy, Rhaegar would not be Tywin’s malleable pawn; he would certainly not be placing a golden crown upon Cersei’s head and giving Tywin more power than he already possessed. 

Rhaegar would not be anything like Aerys; he would not allow himself to be used and discarded once his usefulness had been depleted.

~X~

When Barristan saw the town of Duskendale in the distance, a feeling of trepidation washed over him. And this feeling only grew when he took note of the ships and men blockading the town on all sides. 

Barristan was not a man who considered himself to be a genius, he was a man who followed his instincts more often than not. And every fiber in his being was telling him that something foul was going on the closer he got to Duskendale. 

Perhaps I am simply thinking about Gwayne. And I am simply worried about King Aerys. Barristan thought, trying to rationalize the gut feeling he was getting. 

He wanted revenge for Gwayne, to find Symon Hollard and tear him to shards for taking away a good and honorable far before his time. But Barristan was not the same hot blooded young man he once was, neither was he the same man who charged recklessly at Maelys the Monstrous and slew him in single combat. 

There was no longer a rush that came to Barristan at the idea of going to war and fighting the most skilled and fearsome of opponents. He knew what was to come if the Darklyns continued to resist and the kind of retributions that Tywin would bring down upon them in response. 

Everyone knew what Tywin had done to the Tarbecks and the Reynes, to the people Tytos had once kept close and could no longer hide behind him once Tywin came to power, and everything Tywin had done in Aerys’ name since he was made Hand. 

The idea of being a part of such a massacre horrified Barristan, and most of all the idea of the King and the man he swore his life to being harmed in their attempt to rescue him, burned Barristan to his core. 

And it burned even more as he felt that he was the only one who cared about the blood that would be spilled, about the risk they were taking with the King’s life. 

Barristan sighed as he stepped away from the side of the ship and walked across the desk, making his way to the bedchamber that had been given to him. As he walked, a flash of silver quickly caught his attention from the corner of his eye. 

He almost thought he imagined seeing something when he turned around, seeing that the only opening around him was the hall that led to the ship’s galley. 

Quietly, Barristan changed course and moved into the other hallway, walking towards the galley doors. His hand was placed on the hilt of his sword, his first thought that there was a stowaway onboard, and whether or not they were dangerous. 

He did not expect to see a familiar Valyrian child rummaging through a barrel of pickled meat, eating what she grabbed with a ravenous hunger. 

“Princess Aerea!” Barristan cried out causing the girl to jump in surprise. 

Aerea quickly turned to face the Kingsguard, the piece of meat hanging from the corner of her mouth as she tried to quickly chew and swallow most of it. “Hello, Ser Barristan. What are you doing here?” 

Aerea had not eaten since the previous day, scared that she would have gotten caught if she had attempted such and would have been sent back to King’s Landing. So, she remained hidden in the ship’s hull, not wanting to be discovered until the ship was too far away from King’s Landing for an immediate return to be possible. 

“What am I doing-What are you doing here? Did you sneak aboard? How did you-I had escorted you to your-” Barristan did not know how to respond, and all he could think of was the madness that must have overtaken King’s Landing once it was discovered that Aerea was nowhere to be found. And everyone would react once they learned that the princess was currently on this ship and would be heading towards the most dangerous place in Westeros to be in at the moment. 

“I know that this looks bad.” Aerea tried to say. 

“Looks bad?” Barristan asked incredulously, “Bad does not even begin to encapsulate-how could you just stowaway on this ship?” 

“Because I don’t want Duskendale and Everhand to be besieged!” Aerea exclaimed, “So I snuck out of my bedchamber and onto the ship while it was being supplied.” 

Aerea reached down, opening a pouch she had with her and pulling out a folded piece of paper. When she unfolded it, Barristan saw that Aerea was holding what looked to be a map. “I have been studying the layout of Duskendale and the Dun Fort for moons now, and I believe that I an idea that can save my father and prevent the need to attack the town.” 

Barristan looked at Aerea confused, “What do you mean?” 

Aerea grinned now that Barristan was willing to hear her out, “The siege cannot be allowed to happen, and it doesn’t have to, not if someone, someone like you were to make their way into the castle and rescue my father. I have found an old servant's tunnel that leads into the Dun Fort, I don’t believe that it has been used in some time, given that it barely referenced across the decades, but I believe it could work.” 

“Princess, that would be a lot to risk for a mere possibility.” 

“But you feel the same as I do, don’t you? So many innocents would be condemned to have terribleness just because of the actions of others. My father could lose his life because both Tywin and Denys are willing to throw it away.” 

I do more than anything. “Even so, I am one man, and without Lord Tywin’s leave, then there-” 

“Lord Tywin will not refuse you, not with your reputation and good will. He will have to at least allow you to try, Ser Barristan, especially after the show he made about not wanting to risk my father’s life.” 

The reason why the blockade had lasted so for long was because of the fear that Aerys would be killed whether accidentally or purposely during any attempted siege, and the person who demanded caution the most was the Hand. 

But now he seemed eager to throw that caution to the wind, speaking of the need to bring the Darklyns and Hollards to justice for their crimes. 

“You think that Lord Tywin will have no other choice?” Barristan asked. 

“I hope that he will.” Aerea said, remembering the conversation she and Tywin had moons prior. 

He will at least have to give off the illusion of not jumping to razing two towns to the ground. Aerea thought. 

Barristan stared at Aerea for a moment, almost laughing at himself when he realized that he was considering and found merit in Aerea’s idea. 

“There is still no guarantee that I would succeed if Lord Tywin were to allow me to sneak into Duskendale.” 

“What are you talking about? You’re Barristan the Bold, if can’t do it, who else can?” 

The total confidence that Aerea had in him warmed Barristan’s heart, a chuckle escaped his lips, and he rubbed a hand down his face. “You are something else, Aerea.” 

Aerea grinned, “Does this mean....” 

“Come.” Barristan sighed, “We have to speak to Lord Tywin.” 

Aerea’s smile grew as she followed Barristan out of the galley, ignoring the shocked looks the crew were giving them as they walked. 

~X~

The banners of House Lannister fluttered in the cold morning wind, alongside the banners of House Targaryen, Velaryon, and the various other houses who had answered the small council’s call. The host stretched across the fields outside Duskendale like a gleaming sea of steel, with weapons poised, siege towers half-raised, and idle trebuchets in the distance, all having been waiting for moons for this moment. 

Lord Tywin Lannister sat astride a white courser, clad in gold-trimmed armor, his expression cold and unmoving as he looked up at battlements of the wall above him. 

Beside him stood Ser Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, his white cloak rippling softly behind him. On Tywin’s left, Lucerys Velaryon, Master of Ships, sat astride a brown horse of his own, a scowl resting on his face. 

Behind them, in the shadow of the command tent, Gurnar, the Master of Whisperers, stood wrapped in layers, waiting and watching the scene unfold with Ser Arthur by his side, the younger man standing vigilant, waiting for any hint of danger. 

When the three members of the small council had arrived, no welcome had been sent for them by the Darklyns, and were greeted with only hard-eyed guards with crossbows trained on them from atop the battlements, and single banner raised for a parley. 

They waited for nearly an hour for Lord Denys and Ser Symon to arrive, a disrespectful act that only added to the quiet tension between both sides. 

Tywin did not dismount when he caught sight of the two men and merely raised his voice as he addressed them. “You have held your King prisoner for half a year, Lord Darklyn. Your defiance has led to the closing of your ports, and your people starved and trapped within these very walls. I have come not to speak; I have come to see your surrender and to bestow justice upon you for your crimes.” 

“And I come to reject them such a ludicrous thought.” Denys called down, his voice fraying terribly due to his efforts. “Our demands are unchanged; a charter of rights for Duskendale, and pardons for all who stand with us. Give us these things and the King goes free.” 

“You will win nothing here but a slow and painful death for you and your kin.” Lucerys spat, “If you truly wish for a charter, I will shove it into the useless mouth of your bloodied corpse once this is all over.” 

“You think you frighten me, Velaryon?” Denys snapped, glaring at the man below, “What do you know other than to lick the dragon’s boots from your pathetic wooden chair on Driftmark? I fear nothing from an overzealous and arrogant pup such as yourself!” 

“Enough.” Tywin said, keeping the same volume in his voice, “You have until tomorrow's sunset to surrender King Aerys into my custody. If he is not returned to us by then, Duskendale will burn, every single person within these walls will be executed, and your heads will crown the battlements.” 

“You won’t get your King without your blood and his, Lannister!” Symon shouted, “Try it and see.” 

As the banners lowered and the party turned back toward the command tent, Ser Gerold’s jaw tightened, his hand gripped the pommel of his sword at the arrogance of the man who killed his sworn brother. 

Lucerys cursed aloud, “We’ve waited long enough. They think us weak; we should storm the walls today.” 

“The King’s blood will be spilled if we storm those walls.” Gerold snapped, “You would win yourself nothing but a corpse.” 

Tywin said nothing, as he entered the tent, looking at them briefly, and when he turned to speak, a calm voice interrupted him. 

“My lords,” Ser Barristan Selmy said, stepping forward, his white cloak billowing behind him. “Let me go.” 

“Barristan?” Gerold said, his eyes widening when he saw who followed Barristan into the command tent. “Princess Aerea?!” 

“My lords, Ser Gerold, Ser Arthur.” Aerea said, stepping out from behind Barristan. 

“Is there a reason why you have absconded yourself from the capital, princess?” Tywin asked, his face expressionless. 

“I came to offer a different choice, attacking Duskendale will not be necessary if you listen to Ser Barristan and I.” 

“I will climb the cliffs to the south,” Barristan said, “I will slip into Dun Fort by night, and I will bring His Grace out.” 

Lucerys laughed harshly, “This is the great plan you and the princess have come up with? One man against a garrison? You’ll die before reaching the gate, and if they catch you, they’ll may kill the King out of spite.” 

“He knows the risks.” Aerea said quietly, “And he is willing to take it. Even then, you all are already risking my father’s life by wanting to storm the town, what difference is there between what we all want to do?” 

Tywin looked away from the princess and studied Barristan for a long moment, “Why now?” 

“I saw it in Lord Darklyn’s face, he will not yield, even knowing that continuing to resist will lead to his ruin. And the longer His Grace is held, the more unwell he will become. He is our King; I would rather risk my life to save him than be the man who watched as he was butchered in a burning hall.” 

“If the possibility exists to rescue the King without risk to his life, I believe that it should be taken.” Gerold voiced, having had the same feelings as Barristan ever since he had been sent to hold the blockade. 

And the older knight had full belief that if anyone could take on such a harrowing mission, it would be Barristan. 

“I agree with Ser Gerold. We should not jump so quickly to risk the King’s life.” Arthur added, wondering just how Rhaegar would react to Aerea and Barristan’s idea. 

He must be losing his mind not knowing where his sister had gone. Arthur thought. 

Lucerys rolled his eyes, “So, we give him a day to die and waste another deciding what rubble to knock down first?” 

Gurnar had a thoughtful expression on his face, “The people already speak of how foul they see the actions of the small council since King Aerys was captured. Speak of our intentions or lack thereof, and such talk will only grow worse should we lead an attack that causing his death. Especially when the one leading it...” 

“When the one leading what?” Tywin asked, turning towards Gurnar. 

Gurnar gulped, unable to keep eye contact with the other man, “Especially when the one leading it has already exterminated two other houses for similar disputes.” 

And is greatly disliked by the King and would benefit greatly from his demise. Gurnar thought to himself. 

Tywin continued to stare at Gurnar, unnerving the man further. Everyone else turned to Tywin as they fell into silence, waiting for what he would decide to do. 

Tywin then looked at Barristan, “You have one day, Ser Barristan. If you do not return with the King by dawn tomorrow... I will begin the assault at sunrise. We will storm the town, then the castle, and we will leave nothing standing.” 

Barristan bowed his head, “Then I had best not fail.” 

“You best not.” Tywin said, before looking at Aerea, “Is this what your studies have been for?” 

“No, the idea did not come to me until a few days ago.” Aerea admitted, walking over to the map table and putting down the layouts she had brought with her of Duskendale and the Dun Fort. “I truly did simply wish to expand my knowledge, as a princess should.” 

Tywin looked over the layouts, while he had approved the mission, he was confident that Barristan would fail in his quest to rescue Aerys. 

Barristan was an amazing knight, that much could not be denied, but not even he could traverse a town and castle steaming with anxious and vigilant guards, break the King out of his prison, and make it back with the King in tow all before daybreak, and to do so without himself or the King dying was impossible. 

Too much work had been done to get to this moment, and Tywin had stacked the deck in his favor. 

The siege will begin tomorrow; Aerys will unfortunately die in the attack along with Denys and Symon. A terrible tragedy, one that would not have happened if the Darklyns and Hollards had not thought of themselves as above their King and doomed themselves and their people with their delusions of grandeur. Tywin thought as his goal was now close to fruition. 

At first, he thought his idea to have Aerys go to Duskendale would simply be Aerys proving to the realm what a terrible monarch he was with his cruelty and decision making, but the Darklyns and Hollards taking him prisoner was a better outcome than he could have ever hoped for and he quickly capitalized on it. 

And it truly felt as if the Gods had showered him with good fortune when Denys, Symon, and eventually Jon had jumped at Tywin’s offer of help, believing that Tywin would help them in their endeavor, that he would grant them everything they asked for. 

It made Tywin want to laugh every time he thought of how relieved Denys must have felt when his first raven reached him, and in the half a year since. The stupidity of man was truly a sight to behold, especially when their backs were against the wall and would willingly choice to align themselves with the devil staring back at them. 

It would be a waste of an exceptional Kingsguard to let Barristan throw himself to his death, but Tywin saw the benefit of allowing the realm to believe that all was being done to free Aerys before unfortunate necessity of war was needed to restore the Crown’s peace. 

It silences those who would believe him to be self-serving and malicious, that he could have anything to do with the Darklyns and Hollards treasonous actions. And it would make whatever deeds down by himself and his forces seem righteous and justifiable if it was done the name of avenging two Kingsguards and the King himself. 

Years ago, it would have been unthinkable to Tywin to have a hand in orchestrating the death of someone he once called a friend and a brother. But Tywin was no longer that idealistic young boy who believed he, Aerys, and Steffon could change the world once they were in charge, and neither were Aerys and Steffon. 

For too long Tywin had tolerated the insults, the glares, and the disrespect from Aerys, having long accepted that Aerys had changed but not wanting to give up the power and position that Aerys had given him. 

But now, Tywin could no longer justify allowing Aerys to treat him as if he was lesser, as if everything he stood for was beneath him. And luckily for Tywin, there was another Targaryen that he could easily place on the throne to replace Aerys. 

It was unfortunate that Rhaegar was suspicious of him, and Tywin assumed that when all was said and done, he would have his position as Hand revoked, at least temporarily. 

Once Rhaegar realized how difficult it was the rule them realm without an effective administration, that he truly could not do much without the lords trying to push their own wills onto him, the prince would have no choice but to take Tywin back, to rely on the strongest house to protect him from all the others. 

Tywin was confident that Rhaegar would have no other choice but to swallow his speculations and keep who he viewed as an enemy close. 

And even if he doesn’t, I would simply be glad about no longer having to look at or even think about Aerys Targaryen.

~X~

Hours Later  

A thick fog rolled over the slick cobblestones of Duskendale as the moon hung behind the clouds, occasionally casting a barely visible shimmer upon the ground. 

Barristan Selmy moved like a shadow through the narrow alleys, cloaked in a black mantle that covered his Kingsguard armor; every step he took measured and silent. 

It had not been long since he scaled one of the less protected areas of Duskendale’s outer walls, the streets were barren expect for the guards patrolling them, but he found it easier than he thought it would be to move through the town unseen. 

Barristan quickly froze when he reached the edge of town, just before the shoreline when he felt the as if he was being watched. 

He did not give away that he had noticed anything wrong as he ducked into another alleyway, his hand on the hilt of his sword as he pushed himself against the wall behind him. 

Barristan noticed that a small figure had followed him into the alleyway, their cloaked head turning back and forth clearly looking for him. He waited until they unknowingly crept past him before reaching out and grabbing them, placing one hand over their mouth to muffle their surprised gasp. 

“What? Princes?!” Barristan hissed, shocked to see her. 

“Ser Barristan.” Aerea whispered when the knight removed his hand from her face. 

“How did you even-” 

“For some reason people don’t pay enough attention to me and my whereabouts.” Aerea shrugged, looking at the man impishly. 

Barristan was not amused, “You should not have come here. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Have you lost your mind? You could die here, Aerea!” 

Aerea looked away, “I know that, but I... I couldn’t just stay behind. I needed to come, Barry. This, this isn’t just the King of Westeros we’re talking about freeing, it’s my father.” 

Barristan sighed, having seen firsthand how nervous and anxious she had been over Aerys. Aerea loved her father and only wanted to see with her own eyes his safe return, having lost her faith in most others to do so. 

“Do not leave my side for anything, do you understand me?” Barristan said as he placed his hands on her shoulders. 

Aerea smiled and nodded her head, “I understand.”  

Barristan sighed again; he and Aerea left the alley and made their way to the shore, finding the broken culvert they had mapped out from the layouts of the Dun Fort. 

When they entered, the two were submerged in waist-deep cold, brackish water that stank of mildew and old rot. It only took Barristan and Aerea about a minute to reach the end of the pipe, rats scattering before them as they climbed out and found themselves near the castle granaries. 

The guards patrolling the grounds were fewer and less vigilant than the ones who patrolled the outer walls, obviously bored from long nights of the same routine. The lack of attentiveness was a boon for the pair, working in their favor as they slipped past. 

Once they made their way into the castle proper, Aerea pulled out the map she had brought, silently leading them through the abandoned servant's tunnel. When they reached the castle’s lower halls, they crept towards the corner, and when Barristan partially stuck his head out, found the large doors leading to the dungeon. 

Standing in front of the doors were two knights, both of whom had their hands placed on their swords, standing watch over the hall. 

Barristan moved his head back; he looked at Aerea with a frown, wordlessly telling her to stay put. Aerea nodded, taking a few steps back and pressing herself against the wall. 

Seeing that his charge was going to stay put, Barristan slowly unsheathed his sword, running out from the shadows and rushing the two men. 

The two knights were shocked to see Barristan coming, the first through himself to the side to avoid the downward strike of Barristan’s sword, but the second man was not so lucky and was instantly cut down. He could only make a choaked gurgling sound as blood poured from his throat, collapsing helplessly onto the ground, dying a few moments later. 

The remaining knight glared at Barristan, unsheathing his sword and charging at Barristan with a loud roar. Barristan allowed the man to get closer before sidestepping him and kicking him in the back, knocking him into the opposing wall. 

Before the man could right himself, Barristan raised his sword and stabbed him through the back of his neck, killing him. 

“It is safe now, princess.” Barristan quietly called out as he turned away from the two dead knights. 

Aerea’s eyes flickered towards the two bodies, giving Barristan a strained smile as she stepped over a puddle of blood on her way to Barristan’s side. 

Barristan turned and used his weight to push open the doors, allowing Aerea to slip inside before following her. 

As they walked through the dungeon, Aerea had expected worse when she laid eyes on her father for the first time in over half a year, but even so, the cell that held the King stank of urine, mold, and sweat. Aerys sat slumped on a pallet of filthy straw; his hair tangled, his robes torn and stained with old wine and food, his fingernails were long and blackened, claw-like, and he muttered to himself, lips twitching with words that neither Aerea nor Barristan could not hear. 

“Father?” Aerea whispered, kneeling besides the bars of the cell, “Father, I am here now, father.”  

Barristan joined Aerea, “Your Grace, Princess Aerea and I are here to bring you home.” 

Aerys’ eyes lifted slowly, recognition flickered in their depths, “Aerea, my sweet Aerea, is that truly you?” His voice hoarse as he spoke, looking between his daughter and Kingsguard, “And Barristan? Or another trick? They send ghosts now… do they?”  

The princess and knight were disturbed when Aerys started to laugh, the high and shrill sound echoing off the stone walls. 

What has happened to you, father? Aerea thought,  

Barristan stood and began to look around for the keys of the cell, his jaw clenching when he saw that there was nothing hung on the walls. 

“What is it?” Aerea asked when she saw his expression. 

“There are no keys on the hooks.” Barristan said. 

And I am sure that me killing those two outside was already loud enough to draw attention. Barristan thought. 

“Do you think those two guards have them?” Aerea asked, “I can go check.” 

“Princess-” 

“I will check.” Aerea said strongly, “Just stay with my father.” 

Before he could say anything else, Aerea had already run out of the dungeon, leaving Barristan with the still laughing King. 

Aerea scrunched her nose as she reached the first knight, ignoring the disgust that she felt as she looked at his person, blood staining her fingers as she looked around for keys. Finding nothing, Aerea stood and checked the second knight, and found no keys on him either. 

“Fuck!” Aerea hissed. 

She started to panic when she suddenly heard the faintest shifting of fabric from just beyond the corner. 

“Who’s there?” Aerea asked, placing her hand on the sword she had brought with her. 

Aerea was not expecting to see a woman step out from the shadows, cloaked in a mantle of dark blue silk, her face glowing in the torchlight. And certainly not for this woman to be Serala, wife of Denys Darklyn, known to the smallfolk of Duskendale as the Lace Serpent, who was holding a ring of keys in her gloved hand. 

“Princess, where you able to find-” Barristan froze as he stuck his upper torso out of doors and saw Serala standing across from Aerea. “Lady Darklyn? What-” 

“I thought I would find him alone,” Serala said softly, her eyes flickering between Aerea and Barristan, “I had hoped… to free the King before Lord Tywin makes good on his threat and Duskendale is drowned in blood.” 

Aerea studied the woman, she had heard conflicting tales about Serala, some accounts would say that she was cunning, ambitious, a half-witch and poisoner, others would say that she was kind, compassionate, loving, and a good wife and match for Denys. 

Of course, you can never take rumors all too seriously, there could be some truth, or it could simply be lies told to slander and deface a person's character. 

But right now, Serala looked only tired; her eyes rimmed red, her hands trembling, not from fear, but urgency, and her voice was weary, not unkind. 

“I have begged Denys to release the King for moons.” Serala said, “He would not listen, nor would Symon, nor would Jon. They believe they have the upper hand, that having the King will force the lion to abide by their whims, but they’ve only earned his teeth. You must take him, Your Grace, Ser, take him now and end this.” 

“Why help us?” Barristan asked.  

“I am with child, and I want my child to be born in peace, not killed in fire before its time.” 

“And they will not, I promise you that.” Aerea interjected, moved by the woman’s words. 

“Princess-” 

“We came here to prevent bloodshed, didn’t we?” Aerea asked, “This would be the best way to do so. No one else needs to be punished for the actions of a few.” 

“And you truly promise that, Your Grace?” Serala asked. 

“I will speak to him. I will get my father to listen.” 

“And my husband?” 

Aerea hesitated and when she tried to answer, Serala cut her off with a bitter and resigned chuckle. 

“You do not need to tell me what I already know, Your Grace. Just what you are trying to do is enough.” 

It was clear to the two of them that while the lady of the castle greatly disagreed with her husband’s actions, she still loved him and was heartbroken over his inevitable fate. 

Serala walked past Aerea and Barristan, entering the dungeon. Aerys had finally stopped laughing to himself when he caught sight of Serala, questioning if she too was real. 

Serala used the keys to unlock the cell door, stepping aside and handing the keys to Barristan so he could unlock the chain around Aerys' foot. 

Barristan placed one of Aerys' arms around his shoulder, carrying most of his weight as he led them out of the cell. 

Aerea rushed to her father, hugging him tightly. 

“You truly are here; this isn’t a dream.” Aerys whispered, leaning against Barristan as he placed a hand on the back of Aerea’s hair. 

Aerea smiled as she looked up at him, “I couldn’t leave you here to rot.” 

Aerea did not know how to describe the expression Aerys was now giving her. As if he was in awe of her but not truly seeing her at the same time, looking through her as if she was a window he was using to look at someone else. 

“Please, go.” Serala whispered when Aerea looked back at her, “If they catch you…” 

Aerea nodded her head, following Barristan and Aerys. The trio moved as quickly as they could with Aerys’ weakened body, and Aerea worried that with how her father was panting someone would hear and find them. 

We’re almost out. Aerea thought as they reached the outer yard of the castle. 

But just as they exited the castle, a figure jumped out of a darkened corner and into their path. Symon Hollard stood before them, his sword already drawn and pointed at Barristan and Aerys.  

“The King does not leave this place.” Symon growled, his eyes narrowed at the Kingsguard. 

Barristan let go of Aerys, standing in front of him as glared coldly at the other man and unsheathed his sword. “You will not stop me.” 

“I have killed one of you before. You will fall to my blade just as easily as he did, Kingsguard .” Symon spat. 

The two men ran at each other, their swords clashing in thunderous fury, neither man relenting as they were determined to strike the other down. 

Aerea grabbed the back of her father’s shirt, pulling backwards as they huddled together against a nearby wall and away from the duel. 

The sound of Barristan and Symon’s fight drew the attention of the Dun Fort’s curtain walls, but as the archers aimed their bows at the pair, they were unable to fire fearing that they would accidentally hit Symon or even the now freed King. 

Other men had started to blast the horns, some crying out trying to alert those inside the castle, and a few others trying to rush down the stairs to get to the yard. 

“Shit!” Aerea exclaimed once they had been spotted. 

The culvert was no longer viable for their escape as the hall that led to it was now filling with guards, so she knew they needed to find a different way out of the castle yard. 

Barristan was still fighting Symon, but as she looked around, Aerea spotted the nearby stables, seeing that it was both unguarded and had a few tethered horses inside. 

“Come, father!” Aerea yelled, pulling Aerys along with her. 

She allowed her father to mount the horse first before running towards the castle’s gate and pulling the gate’s lever down. Aerea groaned when she saw how slowly the gate was opening, never in her life wishing more than in this moment that she could yell at an inanimate object. 

Despite the intensity of their initial clash, the fight between the two knights did not go on for much longer as Barristan was faster, and cleaner than the other man. The Kingsguard pivoted, turning Symon’s blade aside, and driving his own sword through the man’s gut. Symon gasped, blood gushing from his own opened torso, and he fell forward, hitting the ground with a wet thud. 

Symon’s body twitched, he was just barely able to lift his head up to look at Barristan. “Y-Y-Yo-You...” 

Within the blink of an eye, Symon’s head fell forward, his body jerking one final time before stilling and Barristan knew that he was dead. 

“For Gwayne.” Barristan whispered, sheathing his bloodied sword. 

“Barristan!” Aerea shouted, “We have to go!” 

Barristan ran towards the horse that Aerea and Aerys had mounted, throwing himself onto the front of the saddle, pressing into the horse’s sides with his legs. 

“They’re trying to escape!” Someone shouted from the walls and arrows immediately stared to rain down upon them. 

“Don’t let them through the gate!” 

“Ugh!” Barristan cried out as one of the arrows found itself in his chest just as they had gotten through the castle gates. 

“Barristan!” Aerea shouted, grabbing Barristan when she saw him starting to slip from the saddle. 

She was barely able to hold onto him, almost dropping him when she was forced to reach for the horse’s reigns to steer the animal. 

The horse galloped through Duskendale’s narrow, winding streets, with guards forced to throw themselves out of the way to avoid being hit.  

Barristan winced as he found the strength to right himself, taking back control of the horse from Aerea as he forced himself to ignore the pain. 

The gates of the outer walls began to close; the guards having been alerted of the escape and seeing the Kingsguard and the two royals racing toward them below. 

Come on, come on! Barristan urged the horse forward and with a final burst of speed, they flew through just as the portcullis slammed down behind them, scraping the hind legs of the steed. 

The horse cried out, blood racing down its legs as it jerked around which almost caused Barristan to lose control. 

Arrows were being fired at them again, the archers on the outer walls trying to stop them before they could get too far away. But no could hit them, and as they reached the loyalist camp, every man on top of the battlement knew that their last line of defense, the King, was gone, and their defiance against the Crown was over. 

~X~

Tywin could only stand in the corner of the command tent, watching as a maester checked over the King. 

Silence had fallen over the camp when Ser Barristan had returned, collapsing from the saddle due to his injury, blood staining his breastplate. 

But on top the horse sat King Aerys, dirty, disheveled, and malnourished, but alive. Barristan had done what everyone thought to be impossible, and with a few hours to spare. 

Tywin did not listen to the conversations going on around him, it was as if water was being poured down his ears. Nothing made sense, he had planned for everything, everything had been going according to plan and yet, here he stood, across from should be a dead man. 

Tywin could not let his rage show on his face, not with how Aerys was looking at him from the cot he was laying on. Aerys had not taken his eyes off Tywin since he arrived at the camp, staring at the Hand suspiciously and with complete hatred. 

Unbeknownst to Tywin, one person had noticed the faintest bit on anger that had appeared on his face. 

For Arthur, the pieces had finally begun to place themselves together in his mind. And he was now watching the Hand far more closely than ever before as his own suspicions grew. 

“Your Grace.” Gurnar said as he entered the command tent, “The Darklyns have sent a courier. Lord Denys Darklyn has surrendered, he will open the gates for us to enter Duskendale unimpeded.” 

A beat of silence passed, Aerys let out a hiss as the maester dabbed a poultice over his bruised ankle. 

“I want them all dead.” Aerys snarled, “Every Darklyn, and every Hollard, I want their blood to coat the walls of Dun Fort and stain the streets of their precious towns along with their useless citizens. Then, I want their castles and villages to be razed, leaving nothing behind. Let the world remember what becomes of traitors!” 

“Your Grace-” 

“No!” Aerys shouted, his voice cracking, “They dared chain a dragon! They laid their filthy hands upon me, mocked me, starved me, kept me like some common thief! And now they think to surrender? Now?! When they should have groveled moons ago? When they should have never even thought to challenge my decision in the first place?!” 

“Father.” Aerea said, moving from where she stood to kneel at her father’s bedside, lowering her head. “I cannot know what terrors you had to have experienced during your captivity, but I must beseech you for mercy upon the people of Duskendale and Everhand and for the members of House Darklyn and House Hollard.” 

“What sort of treason do you speak, daughter?" Aerys spat. 

Across the tent, Barristan, still pale and tight-lipped from the arrow wound in his chest, stood with his hands clenched at his sides. The rescue had nearly killed him, but he had done it not just for the crown, but for the people of Duskendale innocent folk caught between pride of lordlings. 

He walked over to the King and kneeled at the foot of the cot, “I too must ask for mercy for the people, Your Grace.” 

“You as well, Selmy? You would spare them? These dogs who dared rebel? Who slaughtered your sworn brother, Ser Gwayne Gaunt?” Aerys sneered. 

“Yes.” Barristan finally said, "I ask that those who a guilty be punished and those who are innocent be spared.” 

“There are no innocents among these mongrels!” 

Aerea lowered her head further, her forehead now touching the hard ground, “Father, please. You say there are no innocents among them, but that is not true. What of Lady Serala? She had asked, begged for your release, but was refused by her lord husband, and if not for her, Ser Barristan and I would not have been able to free you. I see no reason to find her guilty, can you fault a wife who does what her husband tells of her? I know my own mother would do everything you ask of her. And what of the children? There are children as young as me, younger than me even, can they be blamed for following the orders of their parents?” 

“Did you come all the way here to save your King or the traitor’s kin?” Aerys asked Aerea, staring at her coldly. 

“I came for you, father. I had grown tired and worried after not knowing what was being done to you for moons. There is nothing I cared about more than your safety, but that doesn't that I do not want those who dared to bargain with your life to get what they deserve and only them.” 

Silence once again fell over the tent, Aerea did not dare lift her head, waiting to hear what Aerys’ response would be. 

Aerys reached over, lifting his daughter's head with one of his hands, his long nails brushing against Aerea’s cheeks. “Very well, I cannot refuse the request of my loyal daughter and knight. The smallfolk shall be left be, and I will spare the women and children of House Darklyn and House Hollard.” 

Aerea kept herself from showing her surprise on her face, a bubbling of hope rising in her chest after hearing her father speak. 

“But I want every Darklyn and Hollard man to be tortured before being put to death, along with every man of arms of the Dun Fort. Both houses will be expected to pay restitutions to the Crown for the next thirty years and a quarter of their land will be given to nearby houses.” 

Aerea tried to speak, once again beg her father for mercy, to plead that so many others still did not need to die. 

“Hold your tongue, Aerea. You have asked for your wish and I have granted it, for you have done a most important deed, but you shall get no more from me. I will have my vengeance upon these heathens, fire and blood must be had this day.” 

“Thank you, father. You are most gracious.” Aerea said, but the words were like ash upon her tongue. 

Aerys, still holding Aerea’s chin, pulled her close him, holding her against his chest as he sat up. “You are close to becoming perfect, Aerea.” 

Aerea froze, “Father?” 

“Just like the woman from my dreams, a savior of our house.” Aerys muttered, lower enough for only Aerea to hear. 

Aerea did not know what to say to that, confused as Aerys continued to hold her, feeling his fingernails digging into her back. 

“Your Grace, should the men be sent to round up those you have deemed guilty?” Lucerys asked, a hungry gleam in his eye. 

He wanted nothing more than to pay back the lord of this land for the insult he had given him yesterday. While Aerys would certainly be the one who brings forth Denys' death, Lucerys wanted to have fun of his own first. 

“Go, Lucerys. I want every person in this wretched town to witness the dragon’s wrath.” Aerys growled, tightening his hold on Aerea. 

“Yes, Your Grace.” Lucerys bowed, leaving the tent to carry out the King's command. 

“That must meet the dragon’s wrath, they must meet the dragon’s wrath, they must meet the dragon’s wrath.” Aerys muttered over and over again as his eyes glazed over. 

Aerea shuddered in her father’s arms, reminded of how Aerys had been in the aftermath of Jaehaerys’ death. 

She only hoped that this bout of madness would leave her father as quickly as it did back then.

~X~

Hours Later  

The air was thick with smoke and sorrow, the morning sun glinted off the gilded banners of House Targaryen, rippling like dragonfire in the breeze. 

A great throng of smallfolk had been gathered outside the walls of Duskendale, surrounded by  the loyalist forces. Women clutched sobbing children to their skirts, men kept their heads low, and whispers trembled on every tongue as they waited for the King to speak. 

A raised wooden platform had been hastily constructed before the town gates, and upon it stood King Aerys II Targaryen, flanked by members of his Kingsguard, Gerold Hightower looming like a stone statue at his side, Arthur Dayne stood directly behind the King, his eyes flickering between the gathered crowd and the King, while Barristan Selmy stood further off, pale and weakened, his chest wrapped in fresh linen, his face tight with pain and unspoken regret. 

The King's daughter stood nearby, silent and stone-faced, her gaze locked on the coming procession. 

From the castle’s gates emerged the prisoners; the ladies, lords, children, servants, knights and guards of the two now disgraced noble houses. With the expectation of the servants, only the men among the group were bound in chains, their bodies broken and bloodied as they trudged through the dirt.  

Denys Darklyn, the proud and well-liked  Lord of Duskendale, stumbled as he was forced forward, his face swollen, lip split, and one eye purpled shut, gifts given to him by Lucerys Velaryon. He fell to his knees before the King of Westeros, not daring to look up at the man. 

“My King.” Denys rasped, his voice hoarse from screaming. “Mercy, please I beg of you for mercy. I was wrong, I see it now. I beg you… for my people, for the children, for my unborn child…please-” 

Denys was suddenly given a vicious backhanded slap by the Master of Ships, and was knocked to the ground. Denys moaned as blood fell from the fresh cut that now laid on his cheek. 

Lucerys loomed over the fallen lord, taking the opportunity to spit in Denys' face. “You disgrace yourself even now, Darklyn. You dared lay hands on your King, to take him prisoner, and now you whimper like a whipped dog pleading for undeserved mercy?” 

Soon, another prisoner was shoved forward. Jon Hollard's chains clinked as he fell beside Denys, the once handsome lord was battered dirtied, his expression was one of total fear and desperation as he looked upon the King. 

“It was him!” Jon screamed, pointing a trembling finger at Denys. “This was all his idea! I never wanted this-I was forced! He threatened me! My family! I had no choice-” 

Aerys’ face twisted into a sharp, cruel smile as he stepped down from the platform, his Kingsguard following him as he stopped before the two chained men. “Forced? I suppose you were forced to laugh as your son tugged on my beard like a fool mocking a jester? Or was it your decision to accompany Denys and Symon when they came to leer through the bars of my cell, week after week?” 

Jon shook his head violently, “No, no, I-” 

“And what of young Robin?” Aerys asked, his tone now venomous. “Your son who spent moons mocking his King, spitting at me like a rabid dog? Who liked to throw my used bucket of waste in my face whenever it filled? Who pulled my hair and told me I stank of madness? That I was no true dragon or King?” 

Jon whimpered, and his legs gave way beneath him. 

Aerys moved his gaze off the father and onto the son. Robin flinched when he met Aerys' eyes, gripping his mother tighter, tears falling down his face as his body shook fearfully. 

Aerys turned his gaze to the assembled smallfolk, his voice rising so that all could hear him. “Let all who stand here remember this day. Let it be carved into your bones and passed down in song for generations to come, treason will be answered not with honeyed words, but with fire and blood. These lords raised hands against their King, imprisoned him like a thief, mocked him like fools, and sought to use him like a piece of gold to barter with. But because of the loyalty of Ser Barristan the Bold and the mercy begged of me by my beloved daughter… the women and children of these traitorous houses shall be spared, your towns shall remain standing, and these houses may keep they miniscule titles while giving away a quarter of your land and wealth to lords of my choice. But the men, every single Darklyn and Hollard man above the age of six and ten, along with every knight and guard, shall be executed, for treason demands death.” 

The cries that broke out then were a blend of gratitude and grief. Women, girls, and boys clutched their fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, nephews, and cousins, and several of the condemned wept openly. 

Denys let out a broken sob, both relief and despair echoing in the sound, he bowed his head feeling as if the weight of every man about to die was resting on his neck. 

He turned his head and caught Serala’s eye. His wife was crying, despairing, as this would be the last time they would ever see each other again. 

At least Serala and the babe will live. At least my choices have not doomed all of us. Our house will one day be able to recover from this. Denys thought as he sobbed. 

Jon cried out, unable to do anything but let his bowels go right then and there, stains darkening the front and back of his trousers, fear overtaking him at the thought of his death.  He knew that he would not be given a quick end, not with how high ranking he was, not with how Aerys was looking at him. 

Damn you, Denys! Why?! Why?!  Jon thought as tears fell down his face.

“And while I said that the children will be spared, there is one that I cannot allow to escape unpunished, not after the sins they have committed against me.” Aerys said, turning back to look at Robin. “Ser Gerold, bring me Robin Hollard. He will die with the rest of his male kin.” 

Lady Maelys Hollard, the eldest of Denys’ sisters, wife of the disgraced Hollard regent,  and Robin’s mother,  was a tall woman with long black hair and a proud nose, clutched her young son, as if she could make him disappear into her skirts.  

She fell to her knees, taking Robin with her as she fell to the ground, sobbing hysterically. “Please! He’s only a boy, just a boy! Spare him! He didn’t know what he was doing! Let him live! Please, Your Grace, he’s all I have!” 

Robin was weeping into his mother’s gown, murmuring apologies, his lips trembled, and his face was red, twisted in panic, and covered with snot and tears. 

Gerold’s expression was grim and he hesitated for half a heartbeat. 

Aerys’ eyes narrowed as he stared at the Hollards with disgust and hatred, “Ser Gerold, take him.” 

Gerold left the King's side and made his way to Maelys and Robin. He then took the child from his mother and Robin screamed like an animal, clawing at his mother’s gown, crying for her.  Maelys howled, trying to hold onto him, but she was yanked away by the guards. 

She thrashed in the men’s arms, “NO! You cannot-he’s just a child! Mercy! MERCY!” 

“If you speak again,” Aerys warned coldly, “I shall have your tongue torn out and served to your son before the rack.” 

Maelys collapsed, sobbing, clutching at the dust where her son had been dragged while Aerys sneered at her. 

“Ungrateful wench. You should be thanking me for what I have given you.” 

“Robin? Robin!” Jon screamed, having broken out of his stupor and seeing that his son was being dragged off. 

“Father!” Robin cried from Gerold’s arms, trying desperately to escape. 

It did not take long for the executions to begin in earnest, the guards and knights of House Darklyn and House Hollard were the first to go, each other placed in a line as they waited for their turn with the headsman. 

Heads and blood pooled at the base of the scaffold. Most of these men were given quick deaths, some wept, others spat defiantly, some met their ends expressionless and passive, and a few desperate souls attempted to escape, you to be hacked to pieces by the men surrounding the scaffold. 

But those who bore the names Darklyn and Hollard were not as fortunate. They were all whipped and beaten, their tongues were cut out, and their fingers and toes broken before they were eventually hanged on the outer walls of Duskendale. 

The two lords of the houses and Robin were left for last, their fates far more  gruesome. 

Robin was tied to the rack, his limbs slowly stretched as he wailed in agony. His joints cracked and popped like firewood, his screams piercing the sky. A few watching  turned away and vomited. Gerold, who had been the one to place the boy on the rack, stood nearby, lips pressed into a hard line, refusing to take his eyes off Robin, a strong sense of guilt filled his chest along with a deep and terrible shame. 

I have done what my King has asked of me, so why do I feel so dirty?  Gerold thought.

Maelys had fainted at the twisted sight of her son, with her aunt and sisters, being forced to catch her. 

Jon wept, shaking as he watched Robin’s body finally still and his screams stop. Robin’s body was a twisted and broken mess, his eyes open and his face left in an expression on horrible pain by the time he finally died. And during the entirety of Robin’s torture, Aerys laughed, horrifying all who heard the demented sound. 

Jon was next, the man still crying as he was tied naked to a pole and flogged with barbed lashes until his skin was torn in red ribbons. No matter how much he pleaded, came in sobbing for forgiveness, the blows kept coming. He was then disemboweled slowly, kept alive for as long as possible by his torturer, and his entrails were pulled out and burned before his eyes, his bowels stinking up the air when he died. 

Denys was saved for last, and Serala could not bare to watch and threw herself into Maester Theomund's arms, burying her face in his neck. 

Denys was stripped and chained to a wooden wheel, his arms and legs bound wide. Lucerys, grinning, brought forth a hammer and broke each of Denys’s limbs one by one, the sound of bones shattering were accompanied by guttural, animalistic screams. When Denys finally passed out, they doused him in cold water and began again, this time cutting, carving his flesh, making him suffer even more. 

This went on for almost an hour before Aerys ordered Denys to be gelded, his tongue to be ripped out, and for his head to be bashed open, his body was then placed on several spikes alongside his removed genitals and tongue. 

Barristan’s jaw and fists were clenched and having turned away halfway through Robin’s and had not looked back, unable to stomach the sight. He said nothing, for the mercy he had begged for had already been granted and this was the vengeance that Aerys needed in return. 

Aerea stood still beside the knight, tears slipped down her cheeks as the screams filled the air, but she did not look away. 

She had saved who she could, and still, it had not been enough, she bit down on her tongue, blood filling her mouth in an effort not to speak out. Nothing she could say would stop this, and anything she did say, ran the risk of drawing her father ire, and possibly changing his decision. 

Aerea did not feel like a hero, she felt like a fraud, a liar, and most importantly a coward. 

Aerys stood tall and proud, his arms raised high once Denys, Jon, and Robin's bodies had been put on the spikes. A large smile appeared on his face, “Let all who see this remember, this day! Remember what happens to traitors and criminals so long I am your King!” 

The crowd was silent, looking at the King’s massacre with horror, mourning the loss of so many, especially their lord. 

“Gerold, do you know where the Hand went?” Arthur asked when he walked up to the other knight. 

Gerold turned his head slightly to Arthur, keeping his eyes on Aerys, “No, last I saw of him was when he and Lord Lucerys were clearing the Dun Fort and having the prisoners brought here. Why do you ask?” 

“I only wondered where he could be if not by the King’s side.” Arthur replied, his suspicions growing again. 

“He may still be in the castle.” Gerold said. 

“How interested.” Arthur muttered. 

What could he be doing in the castle? Getting rid of evidence perhaps? But if so, why would Lord Darklyn not speak to the King about Lord Tywin’s involvement if he was truly a part of it? Did Tywin have something on the Lord that kept him quiet, even in the face of death? Or did Denys simply not think of mentioning Tywin, too caught up in his finally moments? Arthur thought. 

Whichever was the truth, Arthur knew he would have to tell Rhaegar about all that he has seen.