Chapter 30: The Battle of the Blackwater

"GET THOSE ARROWS ONTO THE WALLS!" One lone voice roared above all of the others in King's Landing. "YOU THERE! DON'T CARRY THE BARRELS OF OIL, ROLL THEM! IF THEY GO UP IN FLAMES THEN YOU'LL DOOM US ALL!"

Yohn Royce was screaming out different commands every few seconds it seemed, while Stannis was calm and composed standing above the Mud Gate waiting for the first set of Golden Company ships to clash with his own fleet. Bran himself was feeling extremely out of place on the walls, a small dirk strapped to his hip.

"How are our supplies?" Stannis asked one of his gold cloak captains calmly, although his eyes were watching the incoming fleet.

"Enough for a three year siege, Lord Stannis." The man bowed quickly.

Stannis nodded. "Very good. Is the Queen comfortable?"

The man nodded. "The drawbridge to both the Red Keep and Maegor's Holdfast have been raised as you ordered, just in case."

Stannis nodded once more. "Very well. Go to your station."

"My Lord." The man bowed again and sprinted away.

They stood in relative silence for a moment, listening to the shouts of the men getting into their positions before Stannis turned to Bran. "Have you ever killed a man?" He asked.

Bran shook his head. "No, My Lord."

"I didn't think so." Stannis commented. "Have you ever seen a man killed?"

Bran nodded at that one. "Once, my Father executed a deserter of the Night's Watch."

"You'll see more by nightfall." Stannis told him. "Just remember your training and stick with your Direwolf."

"Of course, My Lord." Bran nodded, putting his gloved hand on Summer's neck, stroking the fur.

Stannis looked back out to sea. "They'll begin to put men on the beaches and try to take this gate." The Baratheon explained. "With Ser Davos away we have next to no naval power, so it will be a fight man to man. What I want you to now is run over towards the siege engines on the walls and be another spotter, can you do that?"

Bran wanted to nod, but he first asked. "What's a spotter?"

Stannis didn't look at him but pointed out to the bay, where the ships were gaining. "On most of those ships they will have engines of their own designed to assault the walls. Our own catapults will aim to destroy them. You will need to point them out to the crew. Can you do that?" He repeated. Bran nodded quickly. "Then go."

Bran didn't waste time. "Come, Summer." He called before running along the battlements towards the Red Keep, where the first siege engines were being tied into place.

"Lord Brandon." The knight in charge, Ser Humfrey Clifton, greeted the young Stark. "Are you to join us?"

Bran had found the Westerlander odd, but Ser Humfrey was a cheery man even in the face of fighting against his family and liege lords. He was a distant cousin to the ruling Lord of House Clifton however, and had once told Bran that his loyalties were to Lord Stannis, who had taken him in to Dragonstone as a child and had allowed him to train as a knight when his family would not. "Lord Stannis bid me to be a spotter." He replied.

Ser Humfrey nodded. "Good, you can join Jasper and Fallon here then. Just make sure that you call out as soon as the ship you're aiming for is in range."

Bran nodded, and Ser Humfrey patted him on the shoulder before he went to shout at somebody for dropping one of the rocks. He looked out to the water again and he could see clearly the symbol of the Golden Company now. Turning to the two men at arms that were manning the catapult, Bran asked. "Have we any tar?"

Jasper just grunted, and Fallon looked down at Bran. "Not much, only a small barrel full for us milord."

"Just Bran." The youngster said quickly. "We're all to fight together, aren't we?"

"Aye, that we are." Fallon grinned.

Bran thought for a moment. "If we light our first few rocks and set some ships on fire, that could help."

"Good thinking, Lord Brandon." Ser Humfrey was back after making his rounds. "Light the second rock men, just so you know your line is correct."

"As you say, Ser." The two elder men bowed. A horn blew twice then, and Bran turned around to see Stannis in the distance holding his sword up.

"THIS IS IT!" Ser Humfrey roared. "ARM YOUR CATAPULTS!"

Jasper was the larger, and so he hauled a rock from the stone floor and dropped it into the catapult.

"Left a bit." Bran noted, and Fallon adjusted the weapon.

Stannis then dropped his sword, and cries of "LOOSE!" came from all over the battlements. Bran's catapult launched into action, thrusting the heavy rock high into the air. Bran kept his eye on their rock as it arced downwards, colliding with the middle of one of the masts. He grinned and clapped, but the other two were already back in action resetting the machine. Bran helped them adjust the line of fire once it was reset and he watched as Fallon poured some tar onto the boulder, and Jasper sparked a flame, lighting the rock up before they fired once more.

The second volley was much more spectacular, as the row of flaming rocks crashed down onto the first line of ships. Bran could hear the screams now as fires began to sprout along the wooden decks, although he was suddenly lurched sideways as Fallon clattered into him, a projectile narrowly missing him as it sailed over the walls. "Keep your eyes open lad!" The commoner roared. "This fight is only just beginning!"

Robb was glad to be back in Winterfell, and the routines of running the castle once more had returned to him almost as naturally as breathing. The difficulty he faced was dragging himself away from his son to perform the duties that were required of him however, and none frustrated him more than when Roose Bolton returned to Winterfell with a number of his men. The Bolton Lord had sent most of them with Torrhen Whitehill, the heir to Highpoint, although both he and his son were currently in Winterfell facing Robb in the main hall giving their reports. Rickon was also at the table, with the idea that he would listen and learn, although the young boy was more focused on his toy direwolf.

"The Ironborn have been slaughtered, and their ships either sunk or captured." Roose explained. Robb noticed Domeric looking down at his boots at the comment but said nothing on it.

"You have my thanks, Lord Bolton." Robb said formally. "And the thanks of both my Father and the King, I am sure."

"We have also had news of the South." Roose told Robb. "A rider found us on the way to Winterfell bearing news of a battle by a village close to Lannisport."

Cat was the only other member of Robb's family in the room, and she perked up at hearing that, worry etched on her face. "We have not heard anything since Sarsfield." She said.

"There was a large battle, My Lady. Many men died; I believe Rodrik Forrester was among the dead." Roose told them.

Robb sank back in his chair sadly. "He was a good man." The Stark said solemnly. "He will be missed."

"Lord Hornwood was also among the dead, along with the Tallhart cousins Benfred and Brandon." Domeric explained, his voice a lot more apologetic than Roose's had been."

That was more worrying, as while the Forrester's still had two more male heirs as well as Rodrik having just had a daughter that Robb couldn't recall the name of before he left for war, House Hornwood was down to its last male in Daryn and House Tallhart now only had a young girl as an heir to Ser Helman, although the ruler in Tallhart's Square did still have a brother and one remaining son.

"Which is why I want to bring forward the wedding of Domeric and Sansa." Roose said cautiously.

"No." Catelyn said firmly. Robb winced at her tone. "She's still a child."

Roose didn't react to his credit. "Her twin is married."

"Lord Bolton, men are different as you well know." Maester Luwin, who was also on the table with Robb, stated calmly. "Lady Sansa is still a child by all our laws until she bleeds."

"I understand." Roose said calmly. "And I would not ask were I not concerned. As the Battle of Oxcross has shown us nobody is safe from death, and I would have my only heir left to me wed before any further battles."

"Wed, but not bed." Robb said strongly. "But as acting Lord of Winterfell I will not agree to anything without Sansa agreeing herself."

"Robb." Catelyn protested, but she silenced herself at a glare from Robb.

"Let me make it clear." Robb told the entire room. "Ideally we would wait until Sansa is older and my Father was here to make the arrangements himself. But he is not, and Lord Bolton's concerns are legitimate." He then directed his speech directly to the Bolton's. "I will not agree to this now. I must speak with my sister herself and only if she is happy, then we will have her cloaked in front of the heart tree. She will remain in Winterfell until her 16th nameday at the earliest, though Domeric you of course are welcome to stay until then as well."

Roose didn't look overly happy, but after a stern glare from Domeric he nodded. "Very well. Though the consummation must happen once she is a woman. As I said, Domeric is my only heir and it would be remiss of me to not do all I can to ensure more."

"You are not too old yet to sire children, My Lord." Robb said, ignoring the looks he got from Catelyn at the comment. "Mayhaps a wife of your own might allay your fears, but I will not compromise the safety of my sister or any future child she has, and I hope you would not wish to either."

Roose Bolton bowed his head. "As you say."

Robb smiled at the agreement. "Then so long as Sansa agrees, we can have a ceremony at the very least."

"Thank you, Lord Robb." Domeric said quickly and loudly before his Father could add anything else. "If we may, we've had a long ride and could use some rest."

"Of course." Robb nodded. "Your rooms from before are being made up for you as we speak, and please join me for supper tonight and we can speak on your efforts with the Ironborn."

Domeric and Roose both bowed and left the Great Hall, leaving Robb bracing himself for the tirade that was about to come. "Sansa is 14." Catelyn snapped.

"As is Torrhen, as is Mira." Robb argued back. "Yet they were wed at Moat Cailin."

Cat didn't look amused. "Robb…"

"Sansa isn't yet a woman, but she will be soon." Robb interrupted. "I would prefer to wait too, Mother, but we are still at war. We don't have a luxury of being able to wait until she is 16 when Roose Bolton is the type to look for any reason to betray us." The latter was said at a whisper, so that only Cat and Luwin could hear. "This way, he gets the wedding that he wants, Sansa is protected, and she will stay here under our guidance until she is 16."

Catelyn didn't look happy still and rose from her seat. "As you say." She said bitterly. "Come, Rickon."

The youngster followed Cat out of the room, and now that it was just Robb and Luwin left alone in the Great Hall, Robb breathed out heavily and relaxed in his seat. "Did I do the right thing? I couldn't just outright deny him."

"You were firm in the protection of your sister." Luwin nodded. "As Lady Stark is firm in her concern about her daughter."

"That tells me nothing." Robb chuckled lightly.

Luwin had a small smirk on his face. "I believe you were as giving yet still as cautious as you could have been. So long as they don't share a bed until her second moonblood then I see no issues."

"I won't force her." A voice came from the doorway, and Domeric was back in the room. Robb sat upright once more, an action that caused Grey Wind to perk up as the direwolf eyed up the Bolton heir. "I apologise for what just happened, I did say that I was happy to wait, but my Father would hear none of it."

Robb appreciated that. "I understand his reasoning, just as I hope he can understand mine."

"If he doesn't, he won't say anything." Domeric waved away. "And as I said, I will not force Sansa. As little as we know of each other I care for her, and I care for both you and Torrhen also. I swear by all the Gods that until she is happy and able too, I will not share a bed with your sister."

Robb smiled, standing up and walking around the table to shake his hand. "And you are the reason I am happy to ask Sansa if she is ok with this rather than outright deny it." Robb admitted. "Torrhen spoke a lot of your character after the incident with the bastard, and trust me, if he wasn't happy with the arrangement we'd both know about it." He laughed at the last sentence.

Domeric also chuckled nervously. "Our families have often hated one another. I would change that in every way I can, not just with a marriage."

Robb nodded. "As would I." He clapped Domeric on the back. "She's in her lessons at the moment. Why don't you go and rescue her from that miserable Septa and spend some time with her, I'll speak with her later."

Domeric nodded. "Lord Robb." He said formally, bowing his head in dismissal.

"Ser Domeric." Robb replied, watching as the heir to the Dreadfort walked out of the room once more, and happy with his thoughts that he had got this decision exactly right.

Jon Snow was now one of the most beloved people in Vaes Dothrak once the story of Viserys' death came out. Khal Drogo himself personally rewarded Jon with the finest horse in the Khalasar, as well as a brand new arakh. Dany knew that he would never use the weapon, but Jon was a polite person and he thanked the Khal for the gift anyway.

A celebration was also called for, with the Khal stating that the child growing inside Daenerys is already proving to be the 'Stallion who Mounts the World' with the Gods calling for his protection. Dany smiled sadly at the declaration, knowing that the life in her belly would never truly come to pass, although the sacrifice would be needed to save the entire world.

It was an odd feeling too, Daenerys thought. In her mind, she hadn't been pregnant for over 40 years when her last child, Rhaegar, was born to her. She smiled fondly at the thought of her youngest son in her old life, before shaking the memories away and re-joining the party.

She noticed Ser Jorah having a drink with Rakharo and decided that the conversation she needed to have with her old bear couldn't wait. She dragged him outside the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen, walking past a couple of amorous Dothraki before they were alone.

"Khaleesi, what is wrong?" Ser Jorah asked.

Dany smiled sadly again. "I need you to tell me something, Ser."

"Anything." Jorah said honestly.

"What was in the last message you sent to King Robert about me?"

Jorah was thrown. "Khaleesi… I can explain."

"Just tell me, Jorah." Dany said firmly, surprising him.

Jorah gulped. "That you were to wed in Pentos."

That surprised Dany. "Really? Nothing since then?"

Jorah shook his head. "Lord Stark has pardoned me, Khaleesi. I have no need of betraying your secrets to the Usurper while I hold this parchment." He pulled a letter out of his shirt and handed it to Dany, and the Targaryen woman read it with a smile.

"Then things in Westeros are already changing." She whispered.

"Khaleesi?" Jorah asked.

Dany shook her head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is what we do now." She thought internally about the sequence of events that led to her dragons hatching. "I want you to write to Varys and tell him of my pregnancy."

"Khaleesi…" Jorah protested. "If the Usurper hears…"

"I will be safe." Dany smiled sweetly. "I have you to protect me."

Jorah was troubled still. "I am but one man."

"And I have both Jon Snow and his wolf as well." Dany reassured him. "Do you trust me?" Jorah nodded immediately. "Then see it done."

The Mormont knight bowed his head and departed, leaving Daenerys on her own. As she watched the man walk away she thought back to her final breaths before, lying in her bed surrounded by her two sons, her three grandchildren, and even her two great grandsons, the youngest still a babe in arms. Her hands instinctively found their way to her stomach, and she sighed heavily.

The Three Eyed Raven, her ancestor's bastard son Brynden Rivers, had explained it all to her. If they were to win the War for the Dawn and keep as many people alive as they possibly could, all Daenerys could do was go about her life as she had done before. "Hatch the dragons." He had told her, while showing her visions of her other life's future and this life's past. "Raise them, nurture them and become the Queen you were born to be in the Bay of Dragons. When the Black Wolf comes for you, then you can break free of the path you forged all those years ago."

Losing herself in her memories was interrupted however, as Irri the handmaiden pulled on her arm. "Khaleesi." She said. "The Khal is asking for you."

Dany smiled sadly. "I will be inside in a moment." She said. She looked up at the sun as it began to set in the west and her hand dropped from her stomach. She was a Queen, and she had a duty to the world that she couldn't back out from.

King Robert had been furious when the raven arrived to tell them that King's Landing was being overrun by sellswords. He had immediately wanted to pack up and march back, and to take this hulk of an army back to punish the sellswords, but thankfully Ned had persuaded his friend otherwise. The shouting had grown too much for Torrhen however, who decided that the siege was boring him. He left a note for his Father and snuck away from their camp towards the South, where he had heard that a small forest held a large amount of game.

It was a day's ride to the forest, and it was dark by the time that Torrhen was ready to settle down and rest for the night. He looked for the sturdiest tree that he could find and hauled himself up it, tying himself to the branch he was happy to rest on before he closed his eyes.

He dreamed of his Direwolf as he often did, although Balerion was racing through the forest following a scent. 'Man' was the only thought in his mind as he followed it.

The next morning Balerion was back with Torrhen, although the hunting trip had quickly become less about finding a deer as it had been about working out who was in the area. They rode quickly, following Balerion's nose as they raced through the trees. Before Torrhen knew it, it was nightfall again. Yet again the Stark hauled himself up a tree, but this time he didn't sleep.

A campfire was smoking in the distance, although Torrhen knew that no loyalist man should be in the area. He dropped back down to the ground and made sure that Winter's Bite was in his hands. Together with his jet black Direwolf they stalked through the trees towards the campfire, stopping in a bush to scout.

He made out three figures sitting around the campfire all eating something, but through the branches he couldn't see much more. Torrhen turned to Balerion, silently saying what he needed the Direwolf to do before the Direwolf turned and moved around to the other side of the camp, to entrap the strangers. Torrhen let his eyes roll back into his head so he could see through Balerion's eyes, keeping in the back of the Direwolf's mind so that the wolf could move freely until he was in position. Giving the wolf a gentle nudge forward, Torrhen let himself back into his own skin and gripped his sword and shield tightly.

A girl's scream was the signal Torrhen needed, and he pushed himself through the bush into the small campsite, where he saw three small people facing the snarling Balerion. One was in armour, and all of them had blonde hair.

"Surrender now." He called out, catching the attention of all three people. "And you may yet live." Only when he saw everybody properly did he realise who they were. Tyrion Lannister was in the armour, frantically wielding a short sword between both Torrhen and Balerion. The other two were clearly Cersei's youngest children, Tommen and Myrcella. "Well." Torrhen smirked. "His Grace will be delighted to see all three of you."

Tyrion threw his sword down to the ground. "Mercy." He begged. "The children… they are innocent of all of my family's crimes."

"I don't harm children." Torrhen snapped. "You on the other hand, you're a Lannister."

"A Lannister that will get you nothing." Tyrion laughed bitterly. "Even if I've not already been disinherited as a traitor."

That intrigued Torrhen, and he sheathed Winter's Bite. "So you fled Casterly Rock?" He asked.

Tyrion nodded. "I knew what was about to happen. My Father is too stubborn for his own good, and Cersei will never abandon her lie. They will both die, as will Joffrey and Jaime no doubt. All I want is to protect the innocents. Myrcella and Tommen are good and kind, Lord Stark. They do not deserve the fate that has been forced upon them."

"Uncle Tyrion…" Tommen whispered.

"Hush, Tommen. It's ok." Tyrion tried to calm the boy.

"Balerion!" Torrhen called. The Direwolf stopped his snarling and walked slowly over to Torrhen's side. "Not to worry, he will not harm you."

"Thank you." Tyrion said. "I swear, we don't want trouble. My family are as dead to me as I am to them and I want no part in their self-destruction. I only ask that you guarantee the lives of the children."

Torrhen knew he shouldn't give guarantees, but he nodded. "I'll speak with my Father; he will not have innocents harmed." He walked forwards and picked up the short sword. "Hand over any weapons you have in the camp, and we will head back to Lannisport at first light."

Myrcella kept Tommen close to her, but the young girl smiled as much as she could, given the situation, and said. "Thank you, Lord Stark." The boy said nothing.

Tyrion did as asked and handed over a couple of other knives which Torrhen placed in his satchel before pushing the children towards the hastily erected tent. Torrhen preferred to stay outside however and settled himself on a patch by a tree. "Keep guard, Bal." He instructed the Direwolf. "If they try to escape, kill the Imp."

King's Landing was smoking as dusk began to fall. The initial volleys of projectiles from the defenders was good, but the Golden Company had made landfall, and now all Bran could hear was the cries of the dying and the clash of swords. Once the fighting began in earnest he had been handed a bow, and while he was trying his best, he thought that he had only managed to injure one person.

The battle had been raging for a long time, how long Bran didn't know, but it was long enough that his belly was growling and his arm was tired. He had lost Stannis, the Baratheon Lord presumably fighting with his men.

He stopped himself from getting lost in his thoughts as he ducked an arrow that went zooming past his ear, and tried to send an arrow back over the walls, although it was tame. Cursing under his breath, he went to nock another arrow, but the smack of a ladder hitting the walls near him scared him even more. He dropped his bow and unsheathed his dirk, his arms shaking in terror. He couldn't hear any of the shouting around him either, his terror too great.

A man in golden armour soon poked his head up above the parapet, although his head was taken clean off as from out of nowhere Ser Humfrey appeared. "Get to the Keep!" Humfrey screamed at Bran. "Send word to…"

The Westerman was cut short as a mace crunched into his face. Ser Humfrey dropped to the floor still staring at Bran, although the spikes of the mace had mangled his face so badly he looked like he had been mauled and one of his eyeballs had exploded in its socket. Bran screamed, as a hulking man stepped over the parapet and onto the walls, a weapon of heavy iron links over his back. He grinned down at Bran, who swung with all his might, only for his dirk to be caught in the grip of the large man and thrown to one side. Bran ran away, noticing that both Fallon and Jasper went to fight this beast, only for them both to fall.

To his horror, Bran tripped as he ran. His knees were sore as he fell, and he turned quickly to see the man closing the distance between them. Bran backed away as quickly as he could, only to hit his head on the catapults that had lined the walls. His vision was blurry, and all he could do as this man neared him was whisper. "Please…"

Suddenly a flash of fur soared over him, and Bran watched groggily as Summer was growling and ripping chunks out of this man, his jaw too powerful to be punched away. Bran was truly grateful when Summer jumped up and caught the man's throat, ripping it away in a spurt of blood and killing him instantly.

"Good wolf." Bran whispered, a headache forming. The Stark could have sworn that the Direwolf smiled at him, but he didn't wait to find out. He got to his feet and turned towards the Red Keep, sprinting as fast as he could to go for reinforcements as Ser Humfrey had wanted.

It didn't take him long, and as soon as the order had been relayed he was placed in the care of a young Maester, who took Bran up to one of the towers and put some poultice on the bump that was forming on his head before forcing Bran to sit by the window. The Stark began stroking Summer's fur, truly grateful for his life being saved by his wolf when a long, loud horn note was sounded. Bran carefully got up and walked towards a window.

He could see the fires on the coastline, as both ships and ground burnt. He could see a sea of gold trying and failing to break through the strong walls of King's Landing, but it was out on the horizon that caught his attention next.

Ships. Dozens and dozens of ships were sailing towards the city. Bran initially felt true dread as he began wondering how on earth they could repel all of those ships, even with the Valemen fighting alongside them. His dread turned to joy however as he saw the sails on the ships. The black stag of Baratheon, the black ship on grey of House Seaworth, the merman of Manderly, the Direwolf of Stark. It was Ser Davos and the Royal fleet along with the newly built Northern fleet!

Bran felt a tear drop from his eye as the Royal Fleet joined in the battle, crashing into and engaging with the Golden Company, blocking their exit. Wiping it away, he couldn't contain his grin at the sight of the fight turning in their favour.