35 Chapter 35: Chaos

Rhaegar watched from atop the Tower of the hand as several fires across the Capital sew chaos.

He had arrived just a day too late. It had been barely a week since the disappearance of both the Martells along side his mother and brother when again, the Red Keep was so openly violated.

While many gave chase and tried to put out the flames. No one thought to verify if all the saboteurs were truly purged from the ranks of the guards. They all thought that all had fled with their comrades. That lack of action regarding the officers of City Guards led to another chaotic pursuit.

Again several fires were started. All starting from the sewers. Barracks, armories, forges and siege weapons were all blown to pieces. The death count was suprisingly few but the damage is horrifying.

King's Landing is now defenseless.

Lords across the Crownlands had to send their men to fortify the walls. But everyone knew that aside from swords, shields and bows and arrows at hand. They have nothing else to stop an army, specially with a gaping hole large enough to fit twenty men, shoulder to shoulder, to march within with barely any resistance at all.

This strong and successful resistance against the crown had sown doubt within the Lords of his domain. Add to that is the now growing malcontent of the people of King's Landing due to the presence of the Red Priest had led to the current state of the city. A bomb, waiting to explode.

But that was not the worst part. No.

During the chaos, Brandon's companions had disappeared. His hostages had disappeared. One of his only tool for bargain had been plucked from his hands!

He had ordered Varys to try and silence the news but as expected. He failed. Tywin has stopped the transport of his daughter from Casterly Rock to the Red Keep. And there is no way the Lion would let her leave now.

Tywin is no fool. He would not hand over the Queen-to-be, only to made a hostage against house Lannister for their compliance. Specially now that Rhaegar new that the Old Lion is on the same train thought as he is.

Rhaegar clenched his hand till they drew blood at the thought of it. He wasn't just at the back foot anymore. He was losing, even before the fight even begin.

It is an infuriating thought. He knew that with the Cersei out of his reach, Tywin will not give everything to the cause. He will look for means and reasons to pull back from the coalition should their defeat became imminent.

He needs something more, some thing strong, something powerful. Something big enough to give him voice that must be heard. Luckily for him, there had already been one.

A shrill scream that reaked of fear removed him from his train of thought. He never noticed he had found himself wondering into the courtyard. Looking forward he saw as several people were dragged across the cold stone floor and then tied to a wooden pole. One of this people looked up and saw him.

"Our prince! PLEASE! Help us!"

"Save us! Please!"

"We were loyal my prince! We were loyal!!!"

"Please Prince Rhaegar! Please spare my child!"

Guards held back a large portion of the crowed that had tried to reach for them. Some are mercilessly cut down.

Behind Rhaegar stood his most trusted knight. Arthur Dayne who had been pleading his Prince from the very beginning. But sadly, his words held no sway in him.

"Please Prince Rhaegar! Stop this madness!"

"It is too late Arthur." Rhaegar replied somberly.

"It is not too late! We can still put this upon your father's shoulders. We can still spin the tale. But if you go through this there would be no going back!"

"There is already no going back Arthur. This must happen now."

"My prince, this-"

"There will be no changing my mind Arthur. This would have happened eventually. I am merely moving things forward. As they should be. For the sake of Westeros. For the sake of the world, this must be done."

Rhaegar hadn't realized it then, but that was the moment Arthur's loyalty to Rhaegar shattered.

He bowed his head in defeat than surrender. And looked on blankly as he saw more and more people were tied into the wooden post. The posts formed a massive circle around the skull of Balerion which is even now being bathed in blood. As criminals after criminals were dragged to the skull and their throat slit and their blood poured right against it.

Upon the wooden poles were tied a person each, numbering to a total of a six hundred and sixty six. They ranged from children of ten name days to the oldest of fifty.

Arthur himself saw a couple of tear stricken guards. Trying to tie up a woman with shaky hands. Their problem lied with the swollen belly she has. And yet, they did so. Out fear that they may have to take their place.

Just like a handful of guards. One amongs them now tied at one of Balerion's teeth.

Arthur walked towards him. Ignoring the pleas for help that echoed around him. And then he just stood there. Taking in the glare of his fellow Kingsguard.

Lewin Martell.

The man had received the same orders as the guards. And he did so, bathing the skull of the dragon with the blood of the criminals. But his tune changed when a family of two little girls and their pregnant mother were dragged into the poles.

He had screamed and cursed the prince when he did nothing. But what the prince said afterwards was what sent the man over the edge.

"Their deaths will have meaning, Lewin. I assure you."

Rhaegar said so with absolute certainty. Most would have been placated with their Prince's words. But not Lewin. Not when his family was subjected to the Prince' own judgement.

Lewin drew blade and released the three people. During the chaos, the father that had been struggling against the guards managed to push through and held his family.

Lewin gave the nearest horse and sat all of them upon it as he cut down anyone that tried to bar their path.

In the end, the family were able to escape but Lewin took their place.

In the flickering flames of the torches and the bright moon that shine the night. Arthur could only stand there, not meeting his glare.

Minutes passed by with neither of the two speaking. Not a word was said, not a whisper. Because for them theere was no point. They are enemies now. And both knew what happens to traitors.

The only difference between them is their perspective. One betrayed the Kingsguard while the other betrayed Knighthood.

"Stand aside Ser Dayne."

Looking behind, Arthur saw a Red Priest. Holding a piece of armor, followed by four others. He recognized them as the ones worn by a handful of azure knights that were killed along with twenty more saboteurs.

His time was done, he gave one last bow to Lewin and then walked away. But as he left, he heared one last word from the former prince. One that struck his heart greatly.

"Coward."

Standing behind his Prince. He was again shocked when he saw another person was placed upon the skull. It was Brandon Stark. And he was barely breathing.

Rhaegar himself was curious as to why but the Red Priest spoke before he could ask.

"There is Old magic in the blood of the Winter Kings my prince."

Though no one truly understood, Rhaegar still simply nodded in acceptance.

After a whole hour, the moon soon shone Red. Five Red Priest knelt and began chanting. Their voices vibrated to the point of discomfort to everyone present. There is a wrongness in the air that they could not understand. And slowly, it began to grow.

And then the first flame erupted as a Lewin and Brandon was suddenly set on fire. They were then followed by the rest. Every single one of these people were screaming their lungs out, begging for mercy, begging for release, begging for death. One that seemed to never come. And yet they screamed and to everyone's horror, kept on screaming. Skins were melted, muscles were cooked as their body also began to fall apart from the inside, spilling upon their feet. And yet... They remained tied to the pole. And kept on burning.

Men threw up, others shouted with wide eyes and voices filled with horror. Everyone screamed as the flesh and blood soon began converging towards the skull.

It was impossible to miss as soon a bellowing roar came from the skull. First to form were the flesh. Followed by the bones linining themselves into place, mended by flesh and then skin. As it stood on all four limbs it roared to the sky as scales soon started to encase it.

While the common men were both at awe and horrified at the very sorcery before them, the priests of R'hllor of saw something different.

Like a dark sun. That devoured everything around it. With sheer utter darkness at it's heart. And yellow flames that bought heat instead of warmth. A light that seemed to signify more death than life. And the darkness that symbolized the end of all. An ever hungry being meant to devour all around it than to guide men into a new life. The priests fell upon their knees in worship at the representation of their god.

*ROOAAAARRRRR!!!*

The creatures roar was enough to draw everyone's attention once more and there they were met with what they never thought possible.

It was a dragon. Four limbs with Two of it's fore limbs serving as the main skeleton of it's wings. It is filled with twisted protrusions at the back starting at the tip of the tail to it's forehead. It's head is crowned by a two pairs of horns, twisting to the back. And a pair of slithed red eyes on black sclera. As it stood on all fours, it's muscles bulged and contracted as the beast seemed to gain more power.

A black smoke bellows out of it's joints which in a closer look, lacked any form of scaly protection. Making the presence of the beast far more menacing.

The silence was then broken by a gleeful laughter that echoed through the silent night.

The Mad King's cackling sent shivers of fear into the people, the first ones to kneel were those closest to him and then all followed.

They knelt out of fear. A fear that intensified once they mad king had began petting the Black Dragon.

"Sōvēs!!!"

Aerys shouted giddily. And then the Dragon took to the sky. It flew to every land of every Paramount in the Seven Kingdoms, signaling the beginning of the gruesome war that is sure to come.

~~~~ Break ~~~

Ronan and Ned had returned to Riverrun. Their journey becoming calmer after being met with Ser Brynden's knights that awaited them at the borders of the Riverlands.

Their arrival, though was met with relief to a few lords, signified dread instead to the common folk. Though not happy with the current situation, Eddard could not fault them. He after all had seen it as well.

A giant black dragon.

The existence of such a creature struck so much fear into him that he ended up thinking about the possibility of leaving his own brother to his current fate. A train of thought he had to slap out of his head. And that was a month ago.

Despite arriving with the other's in tow, he was saddened that he could not find any sign of Brandon anywhere. He had to convince himself that he would have to focus on the coming war for the time being.

At the castle Ethan Glover, Jeffory Mallister, Kyle Royce and Ser Elbert Arryn were quickly ushered by the servants to their rooms to be treated while Eddard simply looked on to his friend.

Ronan had been quiet for most of their journey after leaving King's Landing. Even after they stayed behind to secure the other heirs after receiving word from a servant of their sudden arrival.

Ronan had always been quiet, but this time he exuded an air of weakness around him. He was not one to pry on other people's businesses but he is worried for his friend. But before he could ask anything of the man. He went and marched away immediately. Most likely towards his wife's room.

With that thought in mind. Eddard decided to go towards the gathering lords. He just knew that they would be bickering at each other now that the Targaryens have a Dragon on their side.

Walking into the great hall of Riverrun, he was met with a cacophony of shouts, bickering and arguments flying all around in between the Lords of the Riverrun, and a few Lords of the Vale.

But all that ceased once he Eddard stepped in.

"I am sorry father. We could not find him." Eddard said dejectedly.

Rickard simply patted his shoulder and nodded with as much assurance as he could. He then urged him to a sit and the two talked. Not minding the Lords that had gone quiet waiting for answers.

He had told them of their infiltration of the Red Keep. And their success at rescuing Brandon's companions. What shocked them the most was the foreigners success at obtaining not just both Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys but also Princess' Elia and Rhaenys.

He never got to the details regarding their escape and the lucky stumble they had with Brandon's companions when he was interrupted.

As Eddard expected, the Lords wanted Ronan to hand them over to them. But much to their anger and dismays, Eddard steadily refused.

The actions of the Lord Grafton had reached their ears and it did not paint them in a very good light. Should the royal hostages be handed over to them, chances of someone secreting the two away is too high to ignore.

All of them were angry at the disrespect that the young wolf had just given. Very few foolish ones actually voiced them out. But most kept it to themselves. They were after all in no position to ask for them. Specially since Eddard had laid claim to the two under the Stark banner, not the foreigner.

The hall soon returned to the previous topic. The Black Dragon. A conversation that went full circle, achieving nothing throughout the coming days.

~~~ Break ~~~

Eddard walked the halls of the castle with a cold expression. It had been a full week since their return and still the Lords of Riverrun continued to bicker with one another.

Even his father could tolerate them no longer. There were even times when the man himself thought that allying with the Riverlands will one day serve as his gravest mistake.

The divide in between factions only grew as the Dragon's presence within the Seven Kingdoms became more frequent as the days went by.

Attacks are now occuring. The Dragon is said to eat not just the sheep and cattles but the people as well. This news is sure to have spread across the Seven Kingdoms by now.

The crown felt emboldened and sent them missives. They had received letters from the crown basically demanding their entire families heads, to surrender peacefully or burn by dragon fire.

Of course no one had taken the one sided offer. Death comes either way and so they end up looking for a means to gain favor. Leading to further mistrust in between Lords.

Stepping into the great hall he saw first his father and then Ronan and Elesis side by side.

Eddard noticed that two had gotten even closer, if it were at all possible. But even he could see it. The amounting joy in between stares. Small kisses and giggles of joy. The two stood out like a northman amidst a sea of southerners. Though Eddard is happy for his friend, he wishes that the two would tone down their affection, at least for a little bit.

They are after all the only happy people here.

To the side are the Lords of Riverrun minus Walder Frey who was instead represented by his eldest son. And all of them are all looking at the family of four that currently stood in the middle of the hall.

Taking his seat next to his father. The father of the family began speaking.

"I am deeply sorry milords. I did not mean to bring ill news but I believe this to be too important to keep to miself."

"Get on with it then!"

"Silence." said Ronan. Making everyone shut their mouth in an audible snap.

"Continue." said Ronan.

"...milords I was there when it happened. When the King and the Prince bought back the Dragon from the dead." the statement piqued their curiosity.

The man told of the sudden barging and dragging of people by the armed guards of King's landing. The culling of the criminals and the escape of his family due to a knights efforts. His description soon clarified the man as Lewin Martell. He then told of nearly seven hundred souls, regardless of age and gender that were sacrificed to the fire and the horrific fate that of being used to bring back Balerion, The Black Dread.

But what struck the most to them was Brandon's death. Rickard could barely ask the right questions.

"Are you certain. Are you sure it was my son?" Rickard ask in a defeated voice.

"Aye mi'lord, I had stayed behind when no one gave chase, was hopin' to help the good knight. But when I got there, they were already burnin right next to 'im...."

No one spoke against the silence. It was an untimely death of a noble child. And a gruesome one at that. But what truly filled most of the Lords mind is the horror that had befelled the capital. The crown had fallen low.

The lords were horrified. Their desire to ally with the crown diminished greatly out of fear but the cowards began to grow in desperation.

It was amidst this conflicting emotions that Ronan decided to speak.

"Is this it? Is this the crown you had all pledge yourselves to? A family that cared not for their own people. Seeing you as nothing more than a piece of meat?"

"They burned a prince. Yes a discarded one. One who gave up all his privileges. But do not mistake, he was still a prince and that is not even including Brandon.

"He is young. A warrior brimming with potential. Yet they killed him. For what? To bring back what was long gone? No. It was for something simpler. It was for gain, for riches, for privileges... For power.

"They burned a youth born of a Great House! Burnt a son who would have ruled land HALF! the size of the Seven Kingdoms. They burned a prince possessing the blood of The Winter Kings! A child of House Stark that has ruled the North for EIGHT thousand years!

"What are the rest of your houses compared to that!? If they can discard his name, then what exactly IS protecting you!? Your men who would bend their knees to them once hey have made an example you and your kin!?"

"...no...""..no.""no."".no..."

"Your lands that they can give to someone else once your families have been removed!?"

""...no. ."" ""no.""

"Or the coin that they can take from your corpse once they have killed you!?"

"""No."""

"Who else must die for their thirst for power!? Or better yet.. Tell me! Who else would stand aside as another one of yours follow that same fate!?

"To your sons! Your daughters! Your brothers and sisters! Will YOU! Let this people decide THEIR fate!?"

"""NO!!!"""

"Or will you stand together. You the great houses that had stood the upon this lands before the Valyrians came to be. You whos blood had been bled upon it. Your sweat and tears. And the bones of your forebearers that had served as it's foundation!"

"""AYE!!!"""

"Then face your enemies! Look behind you and see your home. Your families. Look beside you and see your brothers! Those who would stand and fight alongside you against the tide!

"""AYE!!!"""

"Let it be YOU that give meaning into this war! Not their fate! Not their judgement! But your Freedom!"

"""OUR FREEDOM!!!"""

"YOUR JUSTICE!"

"""OUR JUSTICE!!!"""

"For your lives! Your Fate! And all those you held dear!"

"""AYE!!!"""

"YOUR ALLIANCE!"

"""FOR THE ALLIANCE!!!"""

~~~ Break ~~~

The preparation for war suddenly pushed forward with little to no problems since that day. Most of the Lords stood united, and as expected there were a few dissidents. But no one wanted to lagg behind and be branded as a traitor, not when the majority is currently showing a united front. Even more so now that the Knights of the Vale marches for the Riverlands.

Gulltown struck a deal with Jon Arryn. His full compliance, supplies, ships and men are being fully deployed for the war effort in exchange for a pardon.

Arryn of course a peaceful loving man that he is accepted with only the eldest as hostage. To be fostered under him. And so no battle occured on Gulltown.

The only other problem now is the marching armies of the Reach, The Westerlands, the fractured armies of the Stormlands and the surprising presence of Ironborns at the Western Coast of the North.

But despite the tribulations that laid in the horizon the people were livelier than they used to. Each step a person took seemed to held more meaning. Their faces are more eager. Their eyes are more hopeful.

This was mainly due to the event that occured at the halls of the castle. Many servants and castle guards bore witness and even heared everything that was said.

Since word traveled fast, soon the people were just as eager as their Lords.

The man in question though was rarely seen. Ronan is usually seen either beside his wife and daughter's side or at the forge, hammering away for days and nights with seemingly no end. Nobody knows what he was working on. But the fact that he spends hours even past midnight and still hammering away at a piece of metal had concerned a great many lords while grabbing the curiosity of a great many Blacksmiths.

Eddard was currently addressing a servant that had just arrived to give him news of a Northern contingent riding fast to the twins when he saw Ronan himself covered in soot and ash.

Deciding to have answers for his concerns Eddard asked. "Ronan, what are you doing?"

"Simply preparing Ned, do not worry. I am almost finished with the first set anyway."

"...what could you possibly be needing to prepare that took so much of your time?"

"Protections Ned, protections. Necessary ones specially what we are up against."

"What kind of protections? Unless you have a way to defend us from Dragon fire, then I say your work is useless." jested Stevron Frey making a few oafs who were following him laughed.

But to everyone's surprise, Ronan just stood there. Looking at him with a raised brow, he then let out a smile. Small but a boastful one and then quietly walk away. They were stunned. They ask themselves, 'could he really do it?'.

They doubt it's credibility but for some reason, none of them called him out to denie it.

Days passed in comfortable silence. The feelings of the masses had yet to dwindle. For the first time as far as they could remember, they believed they were going to fight, not for a lords greed or desire, not for fear or anger. Not for titles nor imagined slights. But for themselves.

There were no battles yet but the armies had began gathering. Despite the indecision of the few, the people continued to prepare for the coming war.

The loudest amongs this preparations were the forges. And one in peculiar is currently in an open one.

Ronan is now being watched by several blacksmiths and common folk as the man fold, straighten and fold once more a heated slab of metal. Though the practice is foreign and time consuming, they can sort of understand the effectiveness of his work. But what truly alarmed the many is what he does in between.

He carved foreign symbols in each fold. Each as intricate as the other. When the symbols began glowing blue, he then began chanting in the old tounge, which in turn made slab glow gold before fading back.

Magic, scorcery, witchcraft, they called it however they wished. Many had speculated as they watched. But no one could truly tell. No one was being sacrificed after all.

Everyone watched in anticipation as each piece of armor was crafted. On the second day his wife walked in carrying an armor stand. She first placed an finely woven blue cloth that had a slight metallic shine against the light. It is stitched in gold with words, some had recognized as the old tounge. She then laid above it a near silver like chainmail along with a few pieces of leather in the hands, waist and feet.

It was on the third day that his work had finally finished and everyone stood in stunned silence what they were seeing.

A masterly crafted full plate paired with an enchanting piece of clothes underneath. But what took their breath away from the intricate design is the rippling pattern. A Valerian Steel Full Plate.

Amidst the whispering and disbelief, Ronan addressed Eddard. "Ned. Come over here and put it on."

Eddard was surprised and looked a little lost. But still he complied. Removing his tunic, he started to put on each piece.

The entire set was easy to put on for Eddard. While most armors were meant to be strapped like a belt for each piece. This set had to be slid on just like regular clothes. As he put it on, Ronan then told him of the name of the armor.

Wolf Knight Armor Set.

It was replicated based on a legendary knight that went by the name of The Great knight Artorias. The Abysswalker. A man who was said to have fought alongside a direwolf companion.

The name of the armor alone made Eddard happy to don it but adding the history of the armor made him feel invigorated. The desire to live up to such a legacy.

It was a perfect fit. Eddard was surprised it did not hinder his movements. Perfectly light and yet he felt confident within it, stronger even.

As he tested the armor by moving around Ronan then approached him with a greatsword at hand wrapped in cloth.

"I haven't had the chance to craft a scabbard for it. So you'll have to ask someone else to do it for you. Take it, it's yours."

Eddard already felt like he didn't deserve the armor, but unwrapping the cloth showed another pair of art. An ornate Valyrian Steel Greatshield paired with an equally stunning Valyrian Steel Greatsword.

The crowed gasp at their existence. A whole set, sword, shield and armor.

"Ronan... Thi-this is-"

"I have my own if that's what you're worried about."

His words were clearly a jest but everyone was too stunned at the revelation to realize that. All that registered to them was the fact that there is another whole set, and he is giving one of them to the Stark boy.

"Go on, give it a try."

His words snapped everyone back and they followed Eddard to the nearest training ground.

The spar was amazing. Eddard looked very heroic in the field, with each sword swing with every step and every sway, the armor clang to him like the wind.

Eddard also showed a great amount of speed and mobility despite wearing a full plate during the spar. But what surprised most was the great strength he had exhibited. Despite the stunned masses, the Lords later shrugged it off due to the sheer quality of his weapon and the lightness of his armor.

What they did point out is Eddard's more aggressive sword style. Less like the falcon that grew up in the Vale, no. His eyes held a Veteran's glow and his ferocity more akin to a wolf than a bird.

They clapped and cheered as Eddard fought and won against ten men, barely taking any hits -and non of them substantial- from his foes.

He stood tall like a legendary warrior. Not showing the signs of his fatigue. Though Eddard would never say it, he knew there wasn't any fatigue nor any tiredness in the first place.

While everyone else cheered, there is one person that seethed in the background.

One Stevron Frey. He almost had them. The divide was growing. The Dragon's presence had been a boon to him, furthering his cause. But that all came crashing down with the subsequent revalations. The queen, prince, princess and the Crown Prince's wife has been taken hostages. The heirs have been rescued. And one of their two bargaining tools had just been burnt alive. All this together had undone all his work.

But what turned the tide against his favor is the foreigners arrival. He still remember how badly he was bested during the tourney. Completely out matched in skill and strength. The man that downed anyone brave enough to charge at him, dumb enough to try, or the unfortunate enough to be pushed towards him fall. Now being near him again reminded him of the man's presence.

That feeling of Power. As if you could stand behind him and you knew you would win. And now this. One Valyrian Steel sword is worth a castle. One whole armor set, with both sword and shield is worth a kingdom. And this man had two.

That is the source of his frustration. Just one man. That was all it took to undo everything and even set him back. He knew now that there is only one hope for him to sow doubt against this alliance.

At the edge of his vision he saw Ser Brynden whisper something to the Old Stark's ears. The man in question scowled, mirroring the Black Fish's expression. As soon as they walked back into the castle, Stevron prayed to whatever gods were listening to grant him his wish.

Hoping beyond hope, that there would not be any union between House Stark and House Tully.