Chapter 57: Coup

Benjen Stark

King's Landing was on fire, the coup to remove Stannis Baratheon from the throne that was not his had begun. Benjen was dressed in armour, covered in it from head to toe, he had not worn armour since the Greyjoy rebellion, and was beginning to remember why that was. It was a heavy thing, it slowed his movements, made him move slowly, ungainly, but he kept going. This was no time to be stopping. There was work to be done, they'd managed to catch Stannis and his men off guard, by the sudden movement of this coup, but Benjen knew that that would not last for long. And so, he hurried through the halls of the Red Keep, swinging his sword when necessary, cutting down men wearing the flaming Stag of the usurper. He moved through it all, determined to make sure that things were solid, and then he continued onward.

There was something about the fight, that had always excited him. It made his blood run hot, instead of the cold it often was. He felt alive in a way he had never felt whilst not fighting, it both frightened him and thrilled him. Benjen cuts down a man wearing the red cloak of the Red Knights, spitting at the man as he passes. They'd cut down nearly half of the red knights in the beginning, their flames not providing them the evidence of this little coup. The red woman was being dealt with right now, and Benjen knew that by the time they were done, she would be dead, and Stannis would be resting in the ground. The man infuriated him, he was a fool of the highest order, stubborn, and too stupid to admit when he was beaten. There was more to be done yet, and Benjen keeps moving, past the stitch in his side, god has it been that long?

He continues onward, through the ever-winding path of the Red Keep, and finds himself wondering not for the first time, just what it was that went through Aegon the Conqueror's head when he ordered it built, what sort of madness had plagued him when he had the thing constructed. No one knew what went through the King's head when he was alive, and there are fewer still who know it now. Back when the Targaryens had dragons, they were Gods, they were still Gods when the dragons died, but slowly and surely after the Blackfyre rebellions, that aura slowly disappeared, until Aerys and Rhaegar snuffed it out. The thought of those two men still brings anger and grief to Benjen's mind. He had never ever approved of them or Lyanna's fascination with them, but Lyanna had been the one to wake him up to the realities of the south, and all it had to offer. Another red knight comes toward him and he cuts the knight down, with a savagery only Brandon had once possessed. Brandon, now there was a man who would've known how to get their nephew on the throne. Ned, Ned knew nothing, he plotted and planned, but knew nothing, and he dithered, by gods, the dithering was the worst. Still he was their brother, and so they moved onward.

The fighting is most intense inside the corridors leading to the throne room, Benjen feels a little shoot of adrenaline when he sees that, the Kingsguard of the foreign King are fighting the red knights, and the red knights are fighting his and Tyrell and Stormlander men. It is a brilliant sight, they move forward, Benjen swinging his sword as if it is nothing more than a swat, with which to remove flies. They fight and fight, more men fall to the sword, men scream, and men chant, but it is all the same, they are all dying for a man who will not come out and fight alongside them. If there is one thing that has led to this, it is Stannis Baratheon's willingness to allow other people die so that he might live. This cowardly approach to leading is what has led to this, all of this. The Lannisters live, Robb is somewhere, Jon is a prisoner, and all know that the King has retreated within himself.

They move quickly, rapidly through the remaining passageways, until the door of the throne room is thrown open. Inside, Benjen is greeted by a strange sight. Stannis Baratheon's body is lying at the foot of the throne, is crown askew, and his body broken and bruised and bloody, at his side lie his red woman, her head smashed in, his wife, her throat slit, and his daughter. "Ah Benjen, so glad you made it." A voice says, drawing his eyes to the throne. Sat there, on his nephew's throne, is Renly, dressed in golden armour, with a green cloak, the Stag crown atop his head, the man looks like a King, a smile on his face.

"What happened?" Benjen asks, gesturing toward the bodies, shock making it hard for him to speak.

Renly shrugs. "I told them they were finished, they refused to comply, I had them killed." The way in which he says that, with such nonchalance, sends a shiver through Benjen's tired body.

"And the girl?" he asks pointing at Shireen.

Here Renly seems sad. "She was not supposed to die, but her mother took her with her on her way to the seven hells." There is an intonation of resigned acceptance there, and it makes Benjen worried.

Finally, he asks the question, the one that has been burning in his mind since he has been dying to ask, but also hesitant to ask since he got into the throne room. "Why does a crown adorn your head Renly?"

Renly chuckles, and Benjen knows something bad is about to happen. "Because, this crown is my right, Benjen, it is my birthright, and I intend to claim it."

Others are moving toward him now, he tenses, but he knows he is too tired to make a move, to do anything, other than stand there. "What about our plans? What about our nephew?"

Renly stands before him, cold steel pressing into his back. "The boy is a bastard, and bastards cannot rule the seven kingdoms." Renly replies, steel slipping into his body, tiredness, creaking in.