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A Prince of House Targaryen Chapter 50 (Trial by Combat)
🕑 Added 2023-02-02 20:49:15 +0000 UTCNed Stark
It had been years, over a decade, yet just being in this place hunted him. He felt as if the castle would crumble on top of him at any moment. Walking around the corridors, looking at the walls, the moon shining through the tiny holes between the bricks, the view outside, and the people, servants, and soldiers doing their errands around the castle. Ned felt like he was suddenly back in time, to be in this place.
"I will never return South," Ned murmured under his breath as he took a turn to his left, the corridor leading him to the garden of Harrenhal.
Ned remembered the promise he had made himself when the rebellion had ended, seeing baby Jon sleeping in his arms. Their party had just passed The White Harbour. Ned had promised himself never to return South, yet, here he was, back where everything had started. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear them, hear Brandon, his father, and Lyanna.
Back then, I was a fool who thought his highest importance would be to serve as a Vassal of my brother, Ned thought bitterly. His throat suddenly felt sour.
It was the first day, not even half a day, yet, Ned wanted to leave already. The heat was suffocating him. He wasn't made for the South. He was made for The North, the True North.
Ned moved his hand through his hair in frustration; seeing the king and the queen again had left him to feel frightened in a way, as if at any moment Rhaegar would see right through him, right through his lies. All Ned could think of were his children.
The King hadn't changed much since the Greyjoy Rebellion. When the king dismissed them, he had to stop himself from walking faster than the others.
Leaving the giant hall, Ned had taken a deep breath to calm himself. After resting, Ned and his family went to the feast. The whole time Ned had felt as if the eyes of everyone were on him, but seeing his children happy that's all he needed to feel better. For a few minutes, he had tried to find her, hoping to see her again, he knew he didn't deserve it, but if he could look at her one more time, that would be more than enough. Sadly, she hadn't been there.
Ned had left the feast earlier, and now he was walking towards the garden, his head full of thoughts. He felt as if either Brandon or Lyanna would jump at him any minute like they used to the last time he had been in Harrenhal.
All smiles died that day, Ned thought, remembering when Rhaegar rode past his wife and crowned Lyanna Queen of Love and Beauty. Ned remembered that day better than he wanted. That day changed everything. That day was the day when Ned had last seen Ashara smiling.
Ned still remembered her face, beautiful, hunting violet eyes, and the broken promise. Ned felt a lump forming in his throat. Every time he thought of her, he remembered his promise, the promise to marry her.
Our daughter, did me marrying Catelyn cause her so much pain that our child was...Ned felt as if he would fall unconscious right where he was. His head felt heavier than a rock, the thought not going away no matter how hard he tried.
Their beautiful daughter, Ned, felt tears rolling down his cheeks before he realized. He had lost everything because of that Tourney, his father, his best friend, his big brother, his love, his daughter, and my sister, Ned thought, feeling lightheaded, his back leaning against a wall, the cold stone chilled his skin.
Lyanna had run away with Rhaegar, and Ned had been forced to marry a woman he had never loved, not as much as he had, and still loved Ashara Dayne, the most beautiful woman in the world.
Ned forced himself to lean forward, standing fully on his feet again. Ned decided to go where he had been going when a figure appeared from a corner of his right.
"Jon! What are you doing here?" Ned asked, wiping away the tears quickly. He hoped his nephew hadn't noticed it.
Jon gave him an impassive look before addressing him. "Just taking a walk, Val needed to rest, and I decided to go to the garden," Jon said, his voice quick and sharp. Ned noticed the Wolf's Blood was strapped in his waist, knowing he had a weapon was reliving.
"Want to come with me?" Ned suggested; from the face his nephew made, it was clear he wanted nothing to do with him, but Ned grabbed his shoulder before he could reject his suggestion.
"I need to speak with you," From the haste of his voice, Jon could tell Ned desperately wanted to talk with him.
"Lead the way, Lord Stark." Ned suppressed a wince, knowing his nephew would never call him 'Father' nor 'Uncle.'
Their way to the garden was made in silence; none knew what to tell the other one. Once they reached the place, the only source of light was the moon, giving everything a light shade of blue. The flowers were beautiful, reminding Ned of the blue roses that Lyanna loved so much.
They reached a small clearing, with a garden corridor nearby, with bushes cut in a way to look like dragons with closed wings. Ned turned to his nephew, who was silent.
"What is that you wanted to talk about?" Jon asked; Ned sat on a bench and patted the place next to him for Jon, but instead sat on the bench across him, his eyes looking at him with suspicion.
"Nephew," Ned started, but the glare Jon sent him clearly indicated not to repeat that.
"We didn't really get a chance to talk about this, but I know you want to know what happened that day in the rebellion," Ned said, earning another glare from Jon, who looked ready to get up and leave.
"What's there to talk about? You stole me from my family, left me raised as a Bastard, and allowed your whore of a wife-" "Jon." Ned interrupted, sending a hard look toward him, he knew Jon had every reason to hate Cat, but he wouldn't allow anyone to call her a whore. He was his wife.
"There's no need to call her that. I know you don't like her, but you don't need to say that." Ned said, keeping his voice calm.
Jon grunted before going along with this. "Your...wife treated me like I was dirt under her feet. She thought I was some dangerous thing to her children, but why didn't you try to make things better?" Jon questioned him; despite the tension growing around them, his nephew kept his voice calm. He wasn't shouting or cursing Lord Stark.
Something Ned greatly appreciated. "Jon. The things I did are not something I expect forgiveness for. If there's a Hell, I know I will go there. But you should know that The Rebellion took everything from me." Ned said, his voice hard like stone.
Jon furrowed his brows but kept his mouth shut, waiting for Lord Stark to keep going.
"Robert Baratheon was a good friend of mine, like a brother, and I hadn't seen my family for a long time, but knew that my sister was of age to marry, so I told my father about Robert. I thought we could join our houses. Me and Robert would become brothers. That's all I thought back then." Ned said. Jon's face barely showed any emotion.
"When the tourney started, Robert and my sister officially met. From the start, my sister didn't like Robert, saying he only wanted a pretty face, and who knows how many bastards he already has." Ned continued with his story. Jon frowned this time.
"My sister said she simply wanted to be free and didn't want a husband who would force her to become a Southerner's wife, but my father had agreed with my proposition," Ned said, making Jon glare at him with such intensity that Lord Stark felt a shudder in his bones. He could have sworn he heard a thunder despite no clouds anywhere.
"Why did you try to force her into marrying Robert?" Jon asked with venom in every word.
Ned left out a chuckle. "Do you really think any of us has a choice on this, Jon?" Ned asked Jon, avoiding his question.
"We are lords of our lands. Therefore the good of our people is important to us. Otherwise, their lack of good living conditions will eventually turn to hatred and eventually into a rebellion, which will cost who knows how many lives. The Storming of The Dragon Pit is a good example. Lords live luxurious lives, unlike everyone else who works every day to secure food on their table, but we Lords make sacrifices too. Do you think Brandon would marry Catelyn because he loved her? Your mother left without making sure that we knew the truth about her. Do you know how many people died because of her love?"
"And you stole me because of what happened in the rebellion?" Jon spat with anger.
"I lost too much, Jon. I lost my daughter and my love." Ned shouted, standing up. Jon looked at him with a shocked face. Ned understood his mouth had slipped.
"Ashara Dayne, the rumors of her being your mother didn't come out of nowhere," Ned said as he sat back down, looking downwards at his clutched hands.
"At the tourney. I fell in love at first sight. I was a foolish boy. I promised her that we would be together before I dishonored her. When Lyanna disappeared, my brother and father died needlessly in King's Landing. Hoster Tully made it clear that he wouldn't offer his army unless there were a marriage." Ned stopped talking; silence fell over them once again. Jon wasn't sure what to say to Lord Stark.
"The day we married. All I could think of was Lyanna and Ashara. To save your mother and my broken promise. Ashara sent me a letter informing me of our child." Ned stopped talking, feeling his throat go dry, his eyes burning again.
"I was happy for us. She would at least have our child, but once the rebellion ended. At Starfall, Ashara told me that our daughter was stillborn." Ned inhaled deeply, his eyes burning as if a fire was right before him. After he said those words, silence fell over the garden. The only sound heard was thunder far away, the crickets singing and jumping around, until Jon asked something he had wanted to know for a long time.
"What were my mother's last words?" Jon asked quietly, looking at him with a hint of sadness.
"To promise her that I would return you back to Rhaegar and Elia," Ned said. That's all he remembered.
"What did you tell her?" Jon asked, anger seeping into his voice.
"...Nothing." Ned finally answered, making Jon furrow a brow.
"Nothing?" He asked with skepticism.
"I don't remember it, clearly. I have tried many times to remember, but I can't recall if I said anything," Ned answered truthfully, looking back at Jon.
Ned tried to, but he couldn't. All he remembered after she said her last words was a cry of a crow.
Now
Ned had been woken up early by his own soldiers knocking on his door and informing him that Queen Rhaella had requested his presence in her chambers. When he heard that, Ned moved far quicker than usual to wear his clothes, but at the same time, his heart was pounding in his chest so loudly that he was surprised that Cat hadn't woken up.
Kissing her forehead, he left his bedchamber and walked through the corridors, he knew he should feel anxious or afraid, but Ned didn't feel any of that. He felt calm. He knew feeling afraid wouldn't change anything; with that in mind, he entered the Queen's Chamber. Ser Barristan, who was guarding the door, made him leave all his weapons. He eyed him carefully before letting him inside.
Once he entered, he saw the Queen was looking outside through the window of her chamber, he cleared his throat to let her know of his presence, but The Queen didn't acknowledge him.
Instead, she kept looking outside. The silence dragged on for a whole minute. Her hands were clutched just above her waist before The Queen spoke softly, looking at the children playing outside.
"Children, my lord. They're so innocent, and with only one look, they can make us love them and give out lives for them, to protect them and make sure nothing bad ever happens to them. They are our legacy, the ones who will continue after we leave this world." Queen Rhaella spoke softly, still looking at the children playing outside her window.
Ned wasn't sure how to respond, but he knew what she was talking about. "They're your grace. I felt the same for all of my children. When I held Robb in my arms, I knew I would give my life for him and the same for any of my children." Ned said truthfully.
Queen Rhaella turned to face him. Her purple eyes made him gulp. "Tell me, Lord Stark. How did it feel holding Aemon in your arms for the first time?"
Ned closed his mouth, looking slightly downwards. He couldn't answer that.
"How did it feel knowing you would put him through so much pain? That you will condemn him to a life of a bastard? How could you look at his grey eyes and decide to ruin his life?" Rhaella demanded an answer, speaking with loathing in her voice, but despite the topic, her voice was low, not shouting at Lord Stark.
Lord Stark couldn't find the strength to say anything. His throat felt dryer than the deserts of Dorne, his mouth opened and closed so many times, but he didn't utter a word.
"I asked you a Question, Lord Stark. I order you to answer it?"
"My Queen, I-I-" Ned couldn't say anything. What was he supposed to say?
"When I first saw him in the Training Yard, despite not knowing him, never meeting him before. I felt the same way I felt when I first laid my eyes upon any of my children or grandchildren. Despite his hair and eyes, I recognized Rhaegar on him right away. He looks more like Rhaegar than Aegon. You allowed an innocent boy like him to be raised as a bastard. Besides Dorne, Bastards are seen as filth by most of the population, even in the North, to a degree. Tell me, Lord Stark, what would you have done if any of your Southern Knights from your dear Lady Wife had suddenly decided to kill Aemon to gain favors? After all, who cares what happens to a bastard?" Rhaella questioned sharply, eyeing him in a way as if she would have him killed right here and now if his answer didn't please her.
Ned briefly wondered how she knew that there were Southern Soldiers from House Tully in Winterfell, but he didn't voice it out.
Hearing what she asked, Ned couldn't find any answers. The possibility had been there. After all, it was public knowledge that Jon wasn't loved by his lady wife.
"Jon was guarded by Soldiers of the North, My Queen. I set guards to protect him just as I did for any of my children." Ned defended, but it seemed his words made the Queen even more furious.
"Does that include every time Jon was working alone in the stables? What about in God's Wood? What about when he was sick? When he was cold in his chambers? When he was called a bastard by anyone, who could? He almost died from the sickness, but only a miracle saved him. What if he had died, and all because Winterfell didn't have the medication needed to save him?" Rhaella questioned, her eyes looking at Lord Stark with fury. The tension in the air was suffocating Ned.
Despite everything she said, Rhaella kept her voice relatively low, not allowing herself to shout or raise her voice. One would think she was calm, but anyone who knew her knew she was furious.
Again. Lord Stark wondered how Queen Rhaella could know so much about Jon's childhood, but again, he didn't ask. Instead, he kept his mouth shut. He knew he couldn't say anything to make things better. There was nothing he could say.
"Lord Stark, Aemon told me everything about his life, his version was softer, but he told me that he went beyond the Wall to escape everyone. How old was he when he did that?" Rhaella questioned before her hands pulled something from under her desk; Ned's eyes widened slightly to see her holding a Valyrian Steel Dagger, her eyes inspecting the blade up close before looking at Lord Stark.
"Eleven Name Days," Ned answered after a short pause.
"Eleven name days," Rhaella repeated under her breath, her grip around the pommel tightened to the point that her knuckles turned white. "Do you know how many things could have happened to him, all because of everything he endured? He might have been safe from physical pain, but words and glares can be just as worse." Rhaella said, stepping towards Lord Stark, still holding the dagger.
Ned exhaled when Queen Rhaella was a meter away from him. He felt like a Dragon was staring down at him, ready to breathe fire and burn him. Again Ned didn't say anything.
"For everything you have done, Lord Stark, you deserve to be executed, for your head to be in a spike for all to see. I'm not the one who will decide your fate, Lord Stark. My Son will soon be informed of Aemon's existence. Once that happens, and you're imprisoned, you will accept all charges against you, and you will publicly confess in front of all your lords." Rhaella demanded. At that moment, Ned looked up at her for the first time since he entered the chamber. A Hard Look.
"Don't give me that look, Lord Stark. Your Lords might not appreciate what fate has chosen for you, but if they hear it from your mouth, they will know better than to raise arms against the Crown. Especially your Heir." Ned accepted the condition with a nod, his forehead sweating when she brought up Robb. He wouldn't mind doing that as long as it meant that his family would be alright.
But then Rhaella sent him a dangerous look, a look that sent a shiver through his body. "I'm warning you, Lord Stark. If your heir decides to raise arms against the crown. They won't be able to escape. They might have armies to protect them, but not all wars are fought with armies; sometimes, a simple letter is enough. There will be nothing left of House Stark besides songs and pages in the history books." Rhaella promised with a low-calm tone, void of emotions.
Ned felt like a wolf cornered with nowhere to go. He felt cold in his chest at the thought. A shiver that made his body shudder from head to toe, his eyes looking downwards before nodding in acceptance.
"Yes. Your grace. I promise I will confess." Lord Stark promised, bowing his head to her.
Queen Rhaella sheathed her dagger and was about to tell him to leave when the door opened abruptly. Ser Barristan entered looking worried; Rhaella was about to ask what had happened.
"My Queen. Lord Stark. Your son Jon Snow is on trial right now."
Aemon Targaryen - Earlier
Being called to attend a trial was one of the last things he expected to happen today, and based on Ser Arthur's confused face, Aemon figured he didn't know what was happening.
Once he entered the Main Hall of Harrenhal, his eyes quickly noticed that the whole hall was full of people, and the majority of them were from Riverlands, and House Lannister, with the Hound standing beside them. Jon wondered what kind of game House Tully was trying to play here. Sure, the heir was "injured," but why inform what looked like every lord of Riverrun to come to this pointless Trial?
His eyes quickly went to the Northern Lords present and noticed only a few were present.
His eyes went to the center of the hall. King Rhaegar was sitting upon the throne of Harrenhal; beside him was Queen Elia; behind them were three of the Kingsguards, whom Arthur joined, and just below the stairs that led to the throne was Lady Cersei holding the bandaged arm of Joffrey Tully, and to his side stood Lord Edmure Tully.
Walking up to the center, Jon felt many looks sent his way, but he ignored them as he bowed before The King and The Queen.
"Jon Snow, are you aware why you were called here?" King Rhaegar started, and the hall fell silent when the king spoke.
"No, my king."
"You're accused of Attacking Joffrey of House Tully. How do you plead?" Rhaegar asked as Aemon gave a look at the brat, a smile forming on his face.
If this is the game, they want to play. I will happily play along, Aemon thought with a smile not leaving his face.
"Not Guilty, your Grace." "Liar," Cersei shouted through clenched teeth as she grabbed Joffrey's arm roughly and brought him forward.
"My son could have lost his arm from you, savage. My King, the bastard should be executed." Cersei demanded; Joffrey winced slightly at the way his mother was holding his arm.
"Silence, Lady Cersei. Might we see your son's arm?" Queen Elia spoke blankly, but Aemon could tell that Queen Elia was not fond of Lady Cersei for some reason.
Cersei didn't hesitate to remove the bandages around her son's arm, showing a fresh cut from his wrist up to his shoulder as if the tip of something sharp was dragged across the skin.
The audience gasped at the undeniable proof that the bastard had attacked the heir of Lord of Riverrun. Many started calling Aemon names, names that were all familiar to him.
"Aemon, allow me to burn those causing you anger," Aegarax spoke.
Aemon was tempted, really tempted to simply allow him to roar, making everyone aware of the power he wielded in his hands. To show them the Truth. But instead, he did none of that; if House Tully wanted to be his enemy, they were welcome to do so.
Before Aemon could say anything, the door opened, revealing Val, walking with Dacey and Ghost, some of the lords backed away in fear at the presence of a Direwolf bigger than any horse they had ever seen.
"Jon!" Val said, glaring at the King, and tried to walk up to him before Dacey grabbed her arm, stopping her dead on track, not allowing her to take a step further. Val tried to yank her arm away, but the she-bear tightened her grip around her arm. Dacey whispered something to Val's ear; whatever she said seemed to convince Val to follow Dacey to stand beside the other Northern Lords.
Ghost, on the other hand, made his way over Aemon, making many lords shudder in fear. Despite being amazed by the size of such a magnificent creature, Rhaegar couldn't allow the Wolf to stay.
"Jon Snow, tell your wolf to leave the hall, or we will have to cut him down." King Rhaegar ordered sternly, not showing fear even though Ghost growled at him.
"Ghost, go hunting. I will return shortly." Aemon ordered one of his dearest companions, who turned to look at him for a few seconds before following his command and leaving the hall without making a sound.
Now that Ghost had left, Aemon turned to face King Rhaegar and The Queen. Since Arya wasn't present and Aemon didn't want her to be involved, he decided to say it.
"Then. My King-" "What is the meaning of this, my king?" The door opened, revealing Queen Rhaella and Lord Eddard Stark; behind them was Ser Barristan following the Queen.
The Lords bowed their heads as Queen Rhaella walked past them. Her purple eyes flickered at Aemon for a moment before walking up to King Rhaegar.
"What is happening here, your grace?" Rhaella asked, but more like demanding to know the truth right away.
Aemon felt Lord Stark by his side as he put a hand on his shoulder. "My King, might I know why my son is on trial?" Lord Stark demanded, looking up at The King. Many Northern lords shouted 'Yay,' supporting Ned on this; amongst the loudest was Greatjon.
"Your bastard attacked my son. I demand that he's executed for his crimes." Cersei screamed, showing her son's arm to everyone; Joffrey suppressed a scream of pain. His wound was open again in several places and was even bleeding due to Cersei grabbing his arm roughly.
"My King, please allow my son to speak. I'm sure this can be explained." Lord Stark pleaded. The King nodded as everyone's eyes laid on Jon.
Aemon explained what had happened between him and the boy, how Lord Joffrey had demanded a fight, and once he lost, he had ordered The Knight Sandor Clegane to kill them; Jon explained how the Knight hadn't been able to follow the order due to the presence of the Direwolf.
"Liar!" Cersei screeched. Once Aemon finished the story, in his story, the Prince made sure not to mention Arya. She didn't need to be part of this.
"Where is Sandor Clegane?" King Rhaegar ordered right away, looking at the crowd and ignoring Cersei's screams.
Cersei smiled triumphantly. "Ser Clegane, please tell us what you saw?" Cersei ordered with a hard look. The scarred knight stepped forward before telling Joffrey's version of events to every detail.
Cersei and Joffrey smiled triumphantly, knowing they had won this.
Aemon noticed that his grandmother looked ready to refuse right away and perhaps even tell the truth to everyone.
"I demand a Trial by Combat." Aemon suddenly demanded in front of everyone, his voice booming throughout the entire hall.
This made his grandmother look at him with anger but concern too.
"You're low born. If you-" "I'm afraid that is out of your hands, Lady Tully." Grandmother interrupted her with an emotionless voice, glaring at Cersei.
"Under the eyes of the seven, everyone has the right to a Trial by Combat as long as they haven't confessed yet. You and Jon Snow will need a champion to fight for you." Rhaella continued, daring Cersei to say something.
Aemon knew from her tone that her anger wasn't entirely directed at Lady Tully. Seeing no way out of this one, Lady Cersei smiled nonetheless, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Of course. Your grace. I already know who will be my son's champion." Cersei spoke with a nasty smirk on her face.
All eyes turned to Jon. "I will fight myself, your grace." He declared.
"Very well, an hour later, you have one hour to come to the field; otherwise, whoever is missing will be found guilty," Rhaegar ordered. Soon everyone left.
Later
"You didn't need to do that, Jon. I would have protected you." Ned said the moment they entered his Chamber. Lord Stark had ordered two of his men to prepare an armor set for Jon. Dacey had explained to Val what 'Trial by Combat' meant when she understood that it was a fight to the death unless one of them surrendered, but in Jon's case, there was no surrender.
"Don't worry, Lord Stark, whoever they choose. I will kill them." Aemon promised with a blank look; Val was looking at him furiously but was quiet for now.
Lord Stark looked ready to object when Val spoke. "Lord Stark, might I have a moment with my husband." She all but demanded.
Lord Stark looked at her before nodding. He figured she wanted to say something to Jon. Once he left, Val walked up to him and slapped Aemon across the face, his cheek turning red.
Aemon was about to speak when Val glared at him. "Why did you not let Rhaella deal with this?" She asked furiously.
"Val. I can-" "No, you allowed your pride to get in the way. You think you can deal with your own problems all by yourself. What about me, Jon? What will happen if you-" Val couldn't talk, a lump forming in her throat as Aemon hugged her close, her arms around him, keeping him close.
"Don't leave me, Jon. I love you." Val whispered, her eyes burning with tears. Aemon kissed her lips lovingly, pulling away, their foreheads touching as they gazed into each other's eyes.
"I will return. I won't leave you alone." Aemon promised. Val reluctantly accepted his promise. For a moment, she looked hesitant before opening her mouth to speak.
"Come back to me. I will tell you something tonight." Val said; Aemon wondered what she wanted to tell him but figured she would tell him once the fight ended.
Later
Many lords had gathered for the trial. The place was booming.
Aemon was preparing to wear his armor when the tent opened, revealing grandmother, who looked at him furiously. Her purple eyes looked at him with both fury and concern.
"I won't let you throw your life away," Rhaella spoke, walking up to Aemon, who stood up from his seat.
"I won't throw my life away, grandmother. I will win this fight." Aemon said the same words that he had spoken to his siblings and his wife.
"Aemon-" "You won't lose me. Grandmother. I swear." Aemon promised, kissing her cheek. She hated how much he reminded her of Rhaegar when he was a boy.
"Ghost is right outside. I know he won't allow you to get hurt." His grandmother said, remembering the many tales his grandson had told her about how protective Ghost was, and she had seen Kessa flying above Harrenhal.
"If Ghost intervenes and attacks The Mountain. I will stop the duel and reveal to everyone the truth." His grandmother said with a tone that left no room for discussion. Aemon reluctantly nodded.
Soon he walked outside, Ghost and Val beside him. He sent a look at Arya and one at Rhaenys, who was looking at him while praying for his safety.
Val almost gasped when she saw who her husband would fight. The man, if someone could even call him that, almost looked like a short giant.
Val had seen many big men in her life, but this one had to be the largest out of all of them that wasn't a Giant.
"You're gonna fight that?"
"No. I will kill it." Aemon answered, kissing Val's lips before marching towards The Mountain, using his Stark Valyrian Sword, something many lords noticed right away. The Valyrian Steel was something quite beautiful and deadly.
"That's a Valyrian Steel Sword?!"
"Where did he steal it?"
Aemon ignored them. A Septon said the necessary prayers before the fight. The Mountain was silent during the whole thing, only staring at him indifferently.
The Septon is at last done begging the Seven.
Jon steps forward, his right hand rising to hold the handle of his sword firmly in what looks like a familiar grip.
Fifty yards between him and the Mountain, but the gap closes quickly. Jon advances at a steady pace while Ser Gregor moves more ominously. The ground does not shake when he walks, Rhaella tells herself. That is only the sound of my heart fluttering.
They both stop, a mere five yards separating them.
"They send some greenhorn child to face me?" Ser Gregor grunts through his breaths.
Jon says nothing in reply. He instead lowers his stance. His hand moves down the handle of his sword as his left foot slides forward.
The next moment he's charging. His right foot comes forward, and his right arm swings bringing down the sword over his shoulder. He attacks, aiming for the Mountain raised shield, and soon the air is filled with the sounds of cracking wood and rending iron.
The howl that leaves the Mountain maw is like nothing Rhaella has ever heard before.
Ser Gregor is stumbling back; remnants of his shield are left in ruins, abandoned on the ground, and only a few ragged pieces cling to the straps still attached to his arm. His left arm is limp, hanging useless at his side.
Dislocated?
Broken?
Rhaella doesn't know, but it doesn't matter to Jon. He keeps pressing the Mountain.
He slashes at Ser Gregor's sword arm next, aiming for the joint at the elbow. As Jon's sword glances off the heavy plate, the Mountain tries to bull rush forward on instinct, knowing that he has the weight advantage, but Jon already has his sword drawn back, ready.
As the mountain brings down his great sword in a one-handed slice, Aemon brings up his own to meet it. Stepping into the swing, he grasps his blade with both hands.
The sound of shearing metal as the swords clash has many in the audience covering their ears. Sparks fly as the momentum of the blows carries both swordsmen past each other, but as the mountain stumbles forward clumsily, Jon twists. One knee bent, the other dragging behind for balance, he swings his blade in a wide arc with his right arm alone. The tip scrapes against the back of Ser Gregor's helm, leaving a gaping wound in the metal with a hideous steel screech.
Another bellow of rage and pain escapes the Mountain as he regains his footing, swinging his blade blindly behind him to force Jon to back off.
He does, and from what Rhaella can see of his face, he's annoyed that he's being forced to give the Mountain distance.
All around the yard, spectators are creeping closer, trying to get a better view. The Kingsguard are trying their best to keep them back, shoving forcefully at the crowd with their large white shields, but there are only seven men in white cloaks, and there are hundreds of spectators.
The Mountain charges Jon's again, a feral cry of rage echoing from within the walls of his helm.
He doesn't use words. He roars like an animal, Rhaella thinks.
Jon is prepared for it. He avoids the blow, driving forward as he slams his blade down across the Mountains' breastplate. Ser Gregor manages to raise his sword, absorbing some of the force of the strike, but his blade is turned aside with it, and he's forced to step back. Another crack appears on his blade.
The crowd is screaming now, howling with each swing of the sword.
All the while, Rhaella is silent, praying for her grandson to win.
Aemon couldn't remember the last time he had felt like this, his heart pounding on his chest, his blood pumping faster than ever before. Not even the fight with Rattleshirt had made him feel like this. He felt Good.
With a flurry of strikes, Jon closes in, raining down blow after blow on Ser Gregor. The mountain continues to defend with his great sword, metal meeting metal with an ear-splitting clang.
Ser Gregor's retreat has brought the fight to the crowd's edge.
Spectators scream and shove as they try to get out of the way.
The Mountain blindly rushes toward Aemon. The Prince dodges the giant man before he can get a hold of his chest. Jon swings his sword right at his knee; due to the weight of his armor and the strike of his sword, the knee breaks like a match. The blood flows out the armor as the Mountain screams in pain, falling on one knee, his sword slipping from his hand.
Aemon moves quickly. His Valyria Sword cuts through the opening of his neck. The audience falls silent as nothing but blood fills the ground around the Mountain. Grunts of pain escape his bloody mouth. The Mountain falls on his stomach with a loud metallic sound. With one more strike, Aemon cuts off the head of the man, his head along with his helmet rolling away.
"He killed the Mountain." The whispered words spread through the crowd, snapping many from their shocked daze.
"The Mountain is dead!" the call is taken up by the spectator, and soon they are roaring.
Rhaella released a breath of relief, finally allowing herself to breathe as her grandson was found not guilty.
Closing her eyes, she knew she was crying, but she didn't care. Her grandson just proved to everyone that he was a powerful warrior. With that in mind, she realized that her family had been left in the Dark long enough, right after The Melee.
Aegarax
He felt him flying closer and closer; opening his eyes, the moon was high in the sky. He stretched his wings. The dragon was getting closer.
Roar
Aegarax warned him, his roar reaching far and wide, but it seemed this one wasn't backing away. His wings spread, jumping from the mountain. He took the skies. Trees looked small, and the castles looked small to him, with the light of the moon illuminating the horizon. He could see him as clear as day. His strength and size were extraordinary.
Closer and closer, with a roar, Aegarax expected a fight when he suddenly changed direction, no longer North, flying towards the significant body of water near the Burned Castle.
Comments
TheWateringWizard
Wow did Cersei really drag a dagger across Joffrey’s arm just to justify attacking Jon?! Well now that the Mountain is dead that’s gonna be a lot of problems for Cersei. I’m sure Tywin will be pissed that his daughter wasted such a “good” soldier for her petulant little revenge
Карина Козенко
it would be great if john asked the whole court after all this how to deal with those who lie to the crown and accuse the innocent of non-existent crimes. pull out a long lying tongue?
E I
Should be tonight
thunderforth rc
When will the next update be
