Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Westeros. Battle of the Trident: 283 AC
Formations of men clashed against one another in a crescendo of blood and gore that stained the banks of the trident, arrows flew, swords slashed, and the realm that is known as the seven kingdoms bled as they fought against one another.
The dragon against the stag and wolf, the trout against the sun and spear, and the falcon against the prickling thorns of roses, but house sigils matter little in the grand scheme of numbers. Especially when those numbers decide the fate of a continent.
A little under eighty thousand men were locked in a battle to the death against one another, if you looked closely you could see the spear and pike formations of dorne and the reach clashing against the sword and pike formation of the north and the riverlands.
If you looked further you would see the knights of the vale getting bogged down in the water and their own armor as they clashed with the lighter mounted man-at-arms of the crownlands.
Everywhere you could look you’d see a clash of numbers varying in quantity and quality which in a normal battle would doom one side or the other to flounder and flail. But this was no longer the case due to the strategic location of the trident and the will of two men.
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Prince Rhaegar Targaryen could see his army struggling. Not just against the battering water of the trident but also against the ferocity of both stag and wolf with the trout and falcon being an afterthought in his mind.
Each time he saw his men push forward even and inch he’d hear the rallying cry of thousands rise up screaming, no bellowing. “For Rickard! For Brandon!” Before seeing his lines being sent reeling back, but not before hearing a roar that will haunt him to his dying days.
“FOR LYANNA!”
Every time he heard that roar it would be closer and closer then the last, each time he heard that roar he could picture his cousin in all his rage and fury living up to his houses words as he smashed anyone in his way with his hammer.
Stories wether good or bad will be told of Robert Baratheon and his infamous hammer, but Rhaegar had no time to focus on that as he saw both sides of the battle beginning to stall and decided that with the help of his kingsguard he would take to the field and end this.
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Lord Robert Baratheon felt like the warrior reborn as he caved in both the helmet and skull of a reach pikeman after the poor bastard had extended himself too far from his formation.
Or maybe Robert was too extended himself and he just didn’t know, and neither did he care. All he cared about was catching that damned dragon spawn and making him pay for taking his Lyanna.
With that thought in mind Robert used his never ending fury to smash his hammer into another reach pikeman’s face, toppling over two other pikeman as the force and weight of both hammer and deadweight smacked into them.
Then he saw it, saw HIM, the dragonspawn himself along with his three asswiping kingsguard who had formed a makeshift shield wall in front of him as he walked towards Robert with a cheer from the loyalists lines echoing as they realized their prince was with them.
In that moment Robert could feel his rage go from a roar like the river of the trident to a full ship breaking howl like the cliff face of Storm’s End.
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As Rhaegar marched forward with his kingsguard at the front he could see the stalemate that both forces were in, neither side willing to give ground to the other which made it all the more important for Rhaegar to find Robert and end this to which point the gods must have heard him.
“DRAGONSPAWN!” Was heard being roared above the fever pitch of battle, leading Rhaegar to see his cousin sweeping aside several pikemen whose formation had pulled back, leaving them to unfortunately face Roberts Wrath.
Robert looked like a man possessed, a demon practically with his horned helm and the high sun casting a shadow over the giant of a man. Rhaegar’s kingsguard locked their shields together, ready and able to fight for their prince.
Rhaegar was about to tell them to pull back and let him face his cousin alone but by then Robert was already upon then, hammer in hand and by the gods it was a terrifying sight.
Roberts first hammer blow had all but bent the shield of Ser barristan causing the bold to grunt as not only was it now uncomfortable but also painful to hold up his shield arm.
This led to Ser Lewyn and Ser Darry pushing around the sides of the raging stag and take him down at his armors weak points, but luck was not entirely on their side as several northern swordsman had rallied to the stag lord leaving Ser barristan and prince Rhaegar to face the demon of the trident.
Ser barristan with great effort still held up his shield arm, keeping his prince behind him as he felt his shield now buckle and rend under the second assault of the hammer from Robert before striking at a weak point on Robert’s arm causing the stag lord to bellow out a hateful roar.
“After I’m done caving your skull in you fucking cunt, I’m gonna tear off your princes head and mount it on that throne his father loves so much for what he did to Lyanna!” Robert then used the dague of his hammer to shove past Ser barristan’s guard and all but threw him on the ground.
Ser barristan looked up at the stag lord and was ready to meet his gods until his prince came forth and held up his shield to meet the blow while using the tip of his sword to slice at a weak point in Roberts knee armor.
As his knee was cut Robert had brought down his hammer, though it wasn’t the swing he was going for and only glanced off of the princes shield as he fell back, arm and knee now bleeding.
“Give up cousin, do not make me a kin slayer you fool. Throw away these false ideas that I stole and raped Lyanna. Surrender and I shall only send you to the wall for your crimes!” Rhaegar was standing in front of Ser barristan with his shield up and sword over his shoulder.
Robert at hearing that roared at the dragonspawn and stood to his full height again almost as if his wounds had never happened in the first place and with that went on the offensive.
Robert with one hand swung his hammer down upon Rhaegar’s shield, forcing him to grunt as his shield buckled like Ser barristan’s before it was ripped from his hand by the other hand of Robert and cast to the side like a child’s doll.
Rhaegar pivoted and dodged as best he could now, using his lack of wounds and fatigue to his advantage as he did all he could to avoid his cousin while he slashed at the weak points of his armor which only served to enrage Robert further.
“Stay fucking still you dragonspawn, I will get Lyanna back and I’ll show her your skull as payment for what you did to her.” At this Robert swung his hammer at Rhaegar who had predictably dodged the attack but was caught off guard as Robert used the Bec de Faucon of his hammer to hook Rhaegar by his ankle and pulled, causing the prince to fall flat on his back.
Rhaegar stared up at his cousin who looked like a devil of the seven hells as he brought his hammer up to finally end the prince who had resigned himself to his fate. ‘I’m sorry Elia, Lyanna…’
But the blow never came and Rhaegar opened his eyes to see a sword had pierced its way through Roberts neck armor, which caused Robert to drop his hammer and bring his hands up to his now puncture neck before he fell over.
Ser barristan now stood over the corpse of the stag lord who had ceased moving now before moving to his prince and helping him to his feet before being joined by Ser lewyn and Ser Darry who together had fought off ten northern swordsman.
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A lull had fallen over the battlefield before both sides made to withdraw, one side because they had lost their stag lord and the other because they had killed him.
The dead were accounted for, names were called where some answered and some hadn’t and by two days the tally for both sides casualties was finally reached.
Ten thousand laid dead, with another twenty either wounded or crippled. Most notable among the dead were Lord Hoster Tully who had died at the end via lucky arrow and Lord Robert Baratheon. A parley was called officially after the losses we’re accounted for.
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Rhaegar Targaryen stared down at the kneeling forms of Eddard Stark and Jon Arryn, both of the lords knew they had lost, not by much in terms of numbers but in terms of support.
With Robert dead along with Hoster Tully the rebellion had essentially had its legs cut out from under them and while they along with Rhaegar knew they could fight to the bitter end but what would be the point?
House stark had been ravaged by war the most, with Eddard having lost his father, his brother, and supposedly his sister. Which is why it was all the more important to do what they should’ve done to begin with…sit down and talk.
“Rise lord Arryn, rise lord stark. I feel you are both owed an explanation for what has happened between Harrenhal and now.”
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By the time Rhaegar was done telling his tale both Jon Arryn and Eddard Stark had sworn fealty to Prince Rhaegar. Merging their numbers together and marched for Kings landing, hoping to outpace Tywin Lannister who they had heard rumors was marching on kings landing himself.
With the assistance of both crownland and vale cavalry, Rhaegar, Eddard, Jon and the kingsguard had reached kings landing well before Tywin and had set about moving to dethrone Aerys.
They were just outside the throne room with group of loyal city watch when they heard the guttural growl of Aerys as he screamed “Burn them all!” Before a scream was heard followed by another that sounded like Aerys himself.
At that the kingsguard of Rhaegar took point followed by Edd, Jon, and the prince before gasping at the scene before them in confusion and horror.
Before them lay the body of Grand Master Rossart who was chanting the words of the king as he lay dying, and impaled upon his own throne of swords was the mad king himself who was cackling at Jaime Lannister as the young kingsguard stared at the mad king.
“Burn them all, burn them all, burn them all, burn them all!” Was all that could be heard by the men in that room as the mad king finally closed his eyes and went to what ever hell was waiting for him.
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Ser lewyn had called for the young lannisters dismissal at the death of the mad king almost immediately after he had died, and was placated and then shut down as the young lion had told them that he planned to have wildlife caches set off under the city.
These accusations were correlated with that fact that the city watch, after being tasked by their new king to find the rests of the alchemist, had found the caches that Jaime had been talking about.
Order had been regained in the city which was now breathing a sigh of relief at the fact that a true dragon had gained the throne. Elia martell along with her children Rhaenys and Aegon had reunited with prince Rhaegar with Elia going into further explanation with both lord Arryn and lord Eddard who still had questions.
With her reasoning that since she most likely couldn’t have children again that it was only natural for Rhaegar to follow the tradition of his ancestors and take another wife, while not putting Elia aside in the process to not only honor dorne but also their marriage.
When Tywin finally showed his bald head and entered the city alone to say he looked disappointed about the outcome of this war would be an understatement, but none the less the lion knew better then to try his luck against the dragon and swore fealty to King Rhaegar Targaryen.
That’s when the of the rebellion drew near, as Rhaegar sent out messages to the realm of his victory against Robert in battle he also sent out Lord stark to bring his sister back to kings landing, back to her husband.
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To say Eddard stark was angry was a true understatement for he wasn’t just angry, he was fucking livid. He lost two brothers and a father to this war with nothing to show for it and was now being ordered by the man he had waged war against to bring his traitorous sister back to said man who was now his king.
The only upside was that the twenty men he had brought with him were all loyal to him and him alone and that was going to make what he wanted to do all the more easy…and dare he say entertaining.
As he and his men rode to the tower of joy he could see the three figures he was sent to relieve by order of the king himself. Arthur Dayne, Oswell Whent and Gerold Hightower, all of whom he had no intention on fighting today even with the numbers advantage.
Lord stark and his men came to a stop when they reached the tower, with his men dismounting with him as he marched up to the three kingsguard.
“Ah Lord stark, we were told to expect you. Especially after we heard that you favorite stag lord had fell at the hands of one of our brothers.” The comment alone had made edd want to scoop out the eyes of Ser Oswell but he had to be patient if he was going to get his revenge.
“Hold your tongue Oswell, lord stark fought for his sister. An honorable goal even though the man that fought beside him was nothing more then a whoremonger.” The same could be said for Ser Gerold about his finishing comment but again he held firm in the name of patience.
Lord Stark held out the note to the three kingsguard and held a stoic face as he spoke. “By orders of the king you are to stand down and make haste to kings landing in order to be by the side of your king, in the mean time me and my men will stand guard over my sister until she is ready to be moved back to the capital.”
At this Ser Arthur looked read to confused and angered. “For what reason? Queen Lyanna is in her final hours of delivery, she will need us here to safeguard her and the babe!”
Lord Stark wanted to smirk at the faces of the kingsguard but resisted. “I didn’t bother asking needless questions Ser Arthur seeing as he’s my new king and the queen you speak of also happens to be my sister!”
Ser Arthur looked ready to argue more so Lord Stark decided to head it off at the pass. “I fought a war for my sister Ser Arthur if you think I came this far to see her just to do something to her then you not only insult me but the entire north as well!”
At that Ser Arthur seemed to understand the folly of what he was saying and accepted the note from eddard, who aided the kingsguard in packing up their equipment and sent them on their way. Never realizing the dark look in edds eye as they rode off.
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Lord Stark had brought a maester in training with him to aid in the birthing of the prince or princess, and if his plan at revenge was going to work then he was gonna need his sister alive, not awake, but alive.
After what seemed like an eternity of hearing his bitch of a sister scream her head off the screaming finally stopped, followed by the wailing cries of a babe that was the signal for his plan to be put into action.
Lord Eddard entered the room slowly, feigning the concerned brother that everybody believed him to be before looking at the milkmaid who was busy cleaning off and feeding the young babe, a boy by the looks of it.
Lord stark gaze darkened again as he looked at his sister who was now unconscious from the birthing and made his way over to her, leaning in to whisper in her ear with a voice full of venom and contempt. “Because of you our family is ruined, now I shall pay you back ten fold.”
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When Lyanna woke she had expected to be woken to the sight of her babe in her arms, but instead found herself alone in her birthing room alone and with no babe in sight.
Confused and already feeling the waves of anxiety crashing into her at not seeing her babe anywhere she called out. “Ser Oswell? Ser Arthur?” Which at most likely hearing her voice the door opened but not to someone she expected.
Her brother stood there, rough, ragged, tired, and covered in blood with a dark look in his eyes as he slowly stalked into the room and sat with a heavy sigh and what looked to be a heavy heart.
At the sight of her brother who she never thought she’d see again several questions sprang to mind all vying for her attention but the one that grabbed her attention the most just so happened to be the most important.
“Where is my child brother…”
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It is said that the howl of sorrow that rang from the tower could be heard, from the tip of dorne to the wall itself.