20

299 AC

Arc 1: Clash of Kings

oOo

Near Storm's End, with Daenerys…

As Daenerys glared at the imposing monster before her, sword poised to strike at any moment, she fully understood that the odds of her coming out of the current situation alive was nearly impossible.

Especially when considering the fact that she was fully prepared and willing to take her own life in order to avoid being spoiled by such a monstrosity, who clearly wanted to do to her what he had done to Perseus's mother in the past.

Most women in her position by now would've either done as she planned to do if she failed to kill the Mountain or simply drown in despair as the knight had his way with them.

But Daenerys was cut from a different cloth. She would never bow or bend to her enemies, it simply wasn't in her nature to do so.

So, even as the menacing Ser Gregor inched closer and closer to her with every drawn out step, a wicked grin splitting his face, she remained firm and steadfast.

"I like that look in your eyes, little dragon. It's much better than the look that Dornish bitch had." Ser Gregor's mad grin widened as he continued slowly stalking forward. "I can't wait to see what face you'll make when I split you in two."

Daenerys's jaw clenched and her grip tightened so much that the white of her knuckles were nearly visible. "I'd rather die than let you touch a hair on my head!" She gave a fiery promise.

"You think I haven't fucked a corpse before?" Ser Gregor let out a roar of laughter, his depraved men quickly following suit, before he looked back at her. "I could care less if you're a bit looser. As long as your body is still warm, my pleasure will come all the same."

A sense of disgust so intense that Daenerys felt like vomiting permeated in her stomach. "Your existence is a taint on this world!" She spat hatefully, though his grin only widened.

Her focus now becoming as sharp as a blade, Daenerys patiently waited as the knight took the last step that put him in range of her sword before she sprung into action.

She performed her most well executed slash to date and sent her blade slicing through the air toward the giant man's unprotected throat.

It didn't surprise her at all when her attack only connected with empty space as the knight very simply tilted his head back to avoid the deadly strike.

Having fully expected her attack to miss, Daenerys transitioned into a downward slash that was aimed at a much bigger target which was the man's torso.

Sparks flew into the air as her blade glanced harmlessly off the knight's masterfully crafted armor, the recoil making her stumble backward.

The unbothered Ser Gregor didn't seem to care enough to even make a comment on her attempts to harm him as he simply continued walking forward.

Quickly correcting her stance and regaining her balance, Daenerys's blade gleamed in the sunlight as she stepped forward to begin delivering a series of hacks and slashes.

Now forced to actually move his feet in response, Ser Gregor backed away from the storm of sword strikes that pursued him.

But Daenerys quickly came to a realization as the mocking laughter of the surrounding men grew louder that all of her strikes were hitting nothing but air.

She didn't expect that killing a man infamously known as the Mountain That Rides would be anything close to easy, but she also didn't expect that a man with such a title was proving to be very light on his feet.

Ser Gregor's face gave away little emotion besides mild humor as he turned, moved and twisted around her blade with a startling swiftness that surely would've impressed even her nephew.

"Is this it?" The Mountain idly remarked as he easily avoided yet another slash that would've separated his head from his shoulders. "I heard that you were being trained by the son of that Dornish bitch. He'll be as easy to kill as his whore mother if this is the extent of his knowledge."

Unbridled rage boiled under Daenerys's skin at the slight toward herself and her nephew, but she forced herself to remain calm as this was one of the most important things that her nephew had taught her so far.

(flashback)

"You're too emotional." Perseus comments nonchalantly as he easily sidesteps yet another ferocious slash.

A sweat-caked Daenerys breathed heavily as she glared at her nephew who didn't at all look like he had just spent the last hour easily avoiding all of her strikes during their spar.

"Viserys says anger makes you stronger." Daenerys pants.

Perseus casually twirled his sword as he responded. "It can make you stronger. But it can also make you stupid." He says.

"I don't think-" Perseus's comically blank face made her give the notion more thought. "-on second thought, you're probably right. My brother isn't the brightest star in the sky."

Had he been there, Viserys would've surely been name calling her by now.

Perseus gave a snort before he continued. "Sure, anger can make you more productive but it also means you make more mistakes. So it's best to not fight out of anger." He tells her.

"So should I clear my emotions and focus only on my thoughts?" Daenerys ponders.

"Fighting without emotion is just as bad as fighting with too much emotion." Perseus remarks sagely. "You have to find a balance between your emotions and your thoughts."

Daenerys heaved a great sigh. "But none of this matters if my opponent is stronger than me or simply better." She grouses.

"Dany, if you find the balance between emotion and thought, it won't matter if your opponent is stronger, faster or better than you. You'll be surprised at what you can accomplish when you just believe in yourself." Perseus's face grew a smile. "You've already done it once before when we first started training."

Her mind briefly went back to the time she had managed to land an attack on Perseus.

The attack itself barely left a scratch, but she nonetheless accomplished his challenge of landing a hit on him.

"So you're saying that if I achieve this 'state', I'll finally be able to beat you?" Daenerys finally responds, a sly grin on her lips as she raises her sword back up.

A dry snort escaped Perseus as he too took on a combat stance. "This is why I don't give you compliments. I can see your forehead bulging from over here." He snarks in amusement.

Daenerys gasped in affront. "Take that back you flamebrain!" She said as she charged at her nephew, a bright smile adorning her face.

(End of Flashback)

Daenerys let out a deep breath as she recalled the day Perseus informed her about the benefits of finding balance between emotion and thought.

At the time, she didn't quite understand what her nephew meant. But now, as she faced unarguably the strongest man in the entire Seven Kingdoms, a revelation was rapidly emerging seemingly from the deepest depths of her soul.

Taking her sword stance yet again, Daenerys was as still as a statue, the only movement coming from the slight rise and fall of her chest as her breathing became smoother.

Noticing her change in demeanor, the Mountain looked momentarily confused before a mocking smile grew on his face. "Ah, the fear must be settling in. Do you see how useless it is, little dragon?" He says, his rough voice like gravel.

But Daenerys paid his words no mind as she became so focused, and so sure of herself, that she imagined her eyes were being alight with her will.

Taking her silence as acceptance, Ser Gregor shrugged. "It was fun while it lasted." He remarked lightly before strolling toward her with purpose.

As before, she remained completely poised as the knight grew closer. But this time, her gaze grew sharper and her vision seemed to tunnel when the Mountain reached out one of his large hands toward her.

The following moment showcased a startling phenomenon that the men who were present to see such an event would later claim that they could have only been imagining things.

Because in the next second, Daenerys's sword arm became a blur.

"W-!" Ser Gregor's sentence died before the first word as he was suddenly forced to bring back his outstretched hand.

A small bout of sparks erupted as the passing blade thinly grazed his gauntlet encased fingers.

And that was not it as the Mountain was forced to yet again tilt his head back in order to avoid a vicious slash that would've split his throat open had he not managed to just barely avoid the attack. And even then, a razor thin line of blood appeared just below his chin, further emphasizing just how close he had been to death.

In the next moment, the Mountain didn't deign to move as he logically predicted that the next attack was likely coming toward his torso which would result in her blade simply bouncing off his armor as it had before.

He was wrong.

Instead of attacking his torso, Daenerys bent while spinning on her heels as she allowed her body to follow her arcing blade and came full circle around in a back-spinning motion.

Her blade sliced through the air with a sharp whistle before it sank perfectly in the small gap in the portion of the knight's armor that separated the calf from the thigh.

A deathly silence followed as everyone gaped in utter disbelief at what they had just witnessed.

Ser Gregor himself stared down in shock at the blade that was sunk nearly a quarter of the way into his knee, the sheer density of his unnaturally thick bones and the way his armor was crafted having been his only saving grace from having his leg completely severed.

His blood began pooling beneath his foot as his mind had yet to realize the grevious wound that had just been inflicted upon him.

Another moment of silence so thick that it was almost visible passed before Ser Gregor finally reacted.

"Aaarghhhh!" A thunderous, ogre-like roar of pain erupted from the Mountain.

Daenerys, who was gaping in shock due to finally landing her first successful attack since the fight began, was barely able to register the armored hand of the Mountain That Rides before it viciously backhanded her, sending her sailing a couple of feet away onto her side.

As the princess rolled around in a groaning heap, her vision swarming with stars and half of her face feeling as if it were on fire.

"I was just going to have my fun with you and then kill you like I did that Dornish bitch!" Yanking Jon's sword from out his leg and carelessly throwing it away, the Mountain went into a mad rant as he began limping toward her. "But no, I'll take my time with you now. I'm going to rape you for a hundred nights until you fall in love with my cock. Then I'm going to give you to my men and let all of them have their way with you before I feed your stinking body to my dogs!"

Her eyes began flooding with tears as her fear heightened the more the knight spoke, she was so desperately trying to find a weapon that she didn't realize that she was thoughtlessly clawing at the dirt.

Daenerys didn't want to be subjected to whatever sick method of torment the Mountain could make up in his twisted mind.

And she didn't want to die in the middle of nowhere, far away from her family.

All she wanted at that moment was to feel the protective warmth of the man she loved the most.

"P-Perseus!" As the sun dipped below the horizon, tears began rapidly falling down her face as she openly sobbed out for her nephew like she used to do when she was but a small child afraid of her own shadow.

And as the sky darkened, so too did her vision as both the inner turmoil and the physical backlash from the earlier strike she took quickly sapped away any strength that was left.

And while initially Daenerys was fearful as she imagined the dreadful sight she would be woken to when she regained consciousness.

That cold feeling soon shifted to warm relief as the last thing the distressed princess saw before darkness overtook her was the familiar face of a handsome young man with silver hair that flowed wildly in the wind and enchantingly bright, indigo orbs.

oOo

A bit earlier, at the Targaryen forward camp with Perseus…

Barely withholding from releasing a tired sigh, Perseus sat idly flipping through yet another stack of reports as one of the lords that surrounded the war table informed him about a plethora of issues with the supply line leading through the Goldroad.

Despite the approaching meeting with the royal family, who surprisingly seemed willing to reach an agreement that didn't involve mass bloodshed, Perseus kept his common sense in mind and continued preparing his army for a lengthy siege.

So he had been stuck discussing the progression of their war plans and actions for as close to ten hours now.

And it was an understatement to say that he would rather fight an army of cyclops and hellhounds rather than go through another grueling hour of listening to the issues and concerns that his lords had, which were many.

Having long since starting to become irate, Perseus cut off the lengthy and droll monologue of the speaking lord. "Listen, I don't care if you have to pull the supply wagons with a fleet of ostriches for god's sake, Lord Ambrose. If there aren't enough horses in our stock to do the supply runs within the given time, then simply buy more." His sharp tone held a distinct finality to it.

"H-how should I go about the payment, my king?" Lord Ambrose nervously glanced around before Ser Harry Strickland decided to speak.

"I'll have the gold delivered to you by the end of the week, Lord Ambrose." Ser Strickland told the man who almost sagged in relief, no doubt having been ready to claim bankruptcy should the expense have come from his own pockets.

The last time Perseus had seen the captain-general of the Golden Company was the day before he set out to secure the island castle of Evenfall.

And while he wasn't exactly jumping through the roof about the man's arrival at the forward camp, he was glad that his very rich retainer would be present again so he could throw around his generations worth of gold and make some of his problems disappear.

Harry was also quite proficient when it came to financial matters, having already gone through and fixed most of the money problems their side was having without even dipping into his personal finances.

Seeing that the lord no longer had any more concerns, Perseus went to move on to the next issue. "Now, are there any more pressing matters.." He slowly ceased his speech when Grey Worm entered the command tent.

The ever dutiful Unsullied commander bowed to him first before he spoke. "My king, a man and woman who say they've come from King's Landing are here to speak with you." Grey Worm reported to him.

Perseus sat up in a chair a bit as he silently contemplated the man's words.

"I doubt it's another envoy from the Baratheon's. They would look far too desperate by sending another envoy to us." Willas remarks from his right side.

"That's because they are desperate! We should send their envoys back with their hands tied together like the beggars they are." Oberyn chuckled beside his left.

Taking both men's words into account, Perseus looked to the Unsullied commander who patiently awaited his orders. "Have them escorted in, Grey Worm. Willas, Harry and my uncle can stay, the rest of you can go about your duties." He decided.

After the lord's gradually left, it took a few moments for, a bald, effeminate looking man dressed in a traveler's cloak that couldn't quite hide his plump form to walk in beside a young woman, probably in her late teens to early twenties, with fair silver-gold hair and blue eyes that could only belong to someone with the blood of Old Valyria.

Perseus noticed immediately that both Oberyn and Willas visibly reacted to the man's presence.

The plump man stepped forward with a smooth gait, stopping a few feet before the table, before he bent on one knee and deeply bowed his head to him, the woman quickly followed suit.

"King Perseus, it is my great pleasure to finally meet you." The man spoke with such enthusiasm that he was either a professional flatterer or being genuine, though it was more likely to be the former.

"And you are?" He asked the man after gesturing for the two strangers to stand.

"My name is Varys, my king. And this young lady's name is Doreah." The man, Varys, tells him.

A previously surprised Oberyn finally spoke up. "It's quite shocking to see the Spider at our doorstep." Questions ran through Perseus's mind as he immediately recognized the moniker.

The Spider was one of the most well known men in Westeros and on the same level of notoriety as men like the Mountain, though it was for reasons completely different.

Having obviously expected to be recognized, Varys only gave his uncle a benign smile. "It is nice to see you again, Prince Oberyn. How is your brother? I haven't spoken to him in quite some time." He spoke with such an exceedingly casual tone that showcased he was indeed someone who regularly dabbled with the highest echelons of society.

"He would be feeling a lot better had he not paid a sizable amount of gold so that the creation of our fleet wouldn't be leaked by a certain eunuch." Oberyn's smile didn't quite reach his snake-like gaze.

Seemingly unapologetic, Varys gave a shrug. "It is my trade to find ways to benefit off of the secrets of others, Prince Oberyn. And the gold was simply payment for my following actions in keeping Dorne's secret a secret." He reminded the Dornish prince who simply scowled.

"Surely you understood at the time that Dorne wasn't making a fleet to simply ferry the royal family across the Narrow Sea, Lord Varys." Willas spoke with his usual clarity. "I take it your choice to not reveal Dorne's actions to Robert Baratheon and the Lannister's has something to do with your being here today?"

"As astute as always, young Willas. I imagine the Queen of Thorns is quite proud of her grandson." Varys's genial smile and compliment did little to stop his top adviser from staring a sharp hole through him. "Yes, you are correct. My choice to not reveal Dorne's questionable behavior to the royal family was premeditated. Partially due to my dislike for the current regime, but mainly because my true loyalties have always been with House Targaryen."

The apparent eunuch's proclamation made Perseus raise his brow in surprise as he finally saw fit to address the man. "Where was this 'true loyalty' when me and my family were sent to fend for ourselves in Essos without any support from anyone?" His posed question made his uncle look a bit uncomfortable.

Varys seemingly bowed his head in submission and regret. "My sincere apologies, my king. I wish I could have done more to help you during your family's exile, but I was very limited in my capacity to act openly. Robert Baratheon was never prone to reason but that was especially so when Targaryen loyalists were involved. I would've been sent to the executioner without so much as a trial." He tells him.

Perseus hummed noncommittally before asking. "So you've come now toâ?" His eyes briefly flickered to the woman, Doreah, who had been intensely staring at him with a look of curiosity before her eyes hurriedly shot to the floor.

"I wish to pledge my services to your cause and to also inform you of a malicious plot that one of my old colleagues fabricated in order to deceive you." Varys tells him.

The first matter wasn't that interesting to him since he had expected many of the current royal family's retainers to begin deserting the regime as it became increasingly apparent that they were on the losing side.

But the second thing did manage to gain his interest quite a bit. "And what plot is this?" He asks Varys.

"The kidnapping of the princess, Daenerys Targaryen." The moment those words left the eunuch's lips, the temperature within the tent went from average to uncomfortably warm.

Perseus's face was now set in a stone facade as his sharp gaze pinned down the spymaster in front of him.

"Explain." He ordered brusquely, his jaw clenching as both his power and emotions fluctuated wildly inside of him.

"A short while ago, I was approached by a worker from a brothel in King's Landing. She overheard my colleague and the Mountain discussing the possibility of ambushing and kidnapping the princess while she was being escorted to Storm's End. The Mountain simply wanted to get his hands on one of the last Targaryen's as he is known in the brothel business for his ratherâexuberant fantasies about your house." His stomach dropped at that moment.

Perseus knew very well what type of man Ser Gregor Clegane was. And he wasn't at all comfortable with a man like him having his sights on Daenerys.

"But I have reason to believe that my colleague would have used the return of the princess as a way to get into your majesty's good graces as I know from reputable sources that he is quite unhappy with the current regime as many of us are." Without the sheen of sweat that now beaded his forehead the calm man would have otherwise looked unbothered by the sudden flare of heat.

The more the man spoke however, the angrier Perseus became. Not only was this person planning to use one of his greatest enemies to kidnap his aunt, but they were also planning to deceive him.

"This is unforgivable! We should reject the peace talks, kill them all and be done with their treachery, nephew." Oberyn's seething words were akin to the angry hiss of a viper.

From his other side, a deeply frowning Willas nodded in a rare moment of solidarity with his uncle. "We need to act quickly, your grace. If the Mountain has already made his move the princess is in grave danger." His adviser told him which only further spiked his anger and also increased his worry.

Before Perseus could stand to personally mobilize the entire cavalry however, the Spider spoke. "That won't be necessary, Lord Willas. I've already sent word to Ser Loras and the men who reside at Storm's End. They should already be on their way to protect the princess." He tells them.

A bit of Perseus's fear lessened at that, but his anger was still strong. "Who is this colleague of yours?" He asks, vengeance already burning in his mind.

For the first time since she arrived, the woman named Doreah spoke. "His name is Petyr Baelish, though he's more known by Littlefinger." She says, the tone of hate in her voice was unmistakable.

His gaze flickered to her for a moment. "Littlefinger?" Perseus couldn't help but repeat the odd title.

"Petyr is a son of a petty noble house from the Fingers." Varys tells him.

A mocking smile grew on Doreah's face. "The true story is that he earned that title after word of his pinky sized cock spread around the brothel's." She said with unmasked glee, gaining a chortle out of Oberyn and a small smile of amusement from Willas.

"I'm guessing you're the one who found out about all of this. Why did you decide to betray your employer?" Perseus asks.

He doubted the girl was a part of a complex scheme to deceive him even further with false information, but at the moment he really couldn't be sure.

As Doreah's gaze slowly met his own, he was stunned to see the sheer amount of hate in her tear glistening blue eyes.

"I would do far more than just betray Littlefinger, for what he and that monster did to my sister." Doreah swore furiously and he immediately had a general understanding as to why the woman had turned on her boss.

Her hate could only have been spawned from being subjected to a very traumatic experience administered by the man known as Littlefinger and the Mountain.

And just based on what he knew about Ser Gregor and the fact that Doreah was a worker at a brothel, he had a pretty good guess as to what horrible event her sister had undergone.

A healthy dose of compassion gently flowed its way into Perseus's heart, slightly countering the bubbling fury beneath his skin.

"Thank you." Perseus simply said in a more gentle tone.

"I think we should still deploy a cavalry to further protect the princess, my king. Even though Lord Varys has claimed to have contacted Ser Loras, from my understanding the amount of men at Storm's End might not be enough to decisively defeat the Mountain and his men." Harry advised him.

"I agree, nephew. I'll take our fastest horse riders and personally slay that bastard." Oberyn spat hatefully while Willas silently nodded in agreement.

An order to do just as they advised him to do was on the tip of Perseus's tongue when he suddenly heard the barest cry that strangely seemed to originate from the shadows themselves.

"P-Perseus!"

Dread. That was all he felt when he heard the faint yet familiar sobbing of his aunt.

So great was his inner turmoil in that moment that he was momentarily petrified as his mind immediately thought of the worst possible scenarios.

None of the concerned voices of the people around him mattered to him a single bit as his only concern became the cry for help that apparently only he had heard.

Perseus didn't need to think about his next move because it was completely instinctual.

Before any of the others could spout a word, his body exploded into a mist of an inky, black substance before he ushered his new vapor-like form into the nearest shadow.

He barely acknowledged the chilly sensation of shadow traveling before he was suddenly in a completely different place.

His body not even fully out of the dark place where shadows reigned, the first thing he noticed was the downed form of Daenerys who looked to be on the verge of unconsciousness, then he noticed the giant, armored form of a man he was quite familiar with who hovered menacingly over his aunt.

That was all Perseus needed to see in order to spring into action.

Leaping into the air behind the Mountain, he twisted like a spinning top and delivered a powerful tornado kick that connected with the side of the knight's head with a vicious thwack, sending the large man staggering some feet away.

Smoothly landing on his feet next to Daenerys, he knelt down to check on his aunt.

Invisible waves of harsh heat began radiating from his body when he saw the purple mark that greatly blemished Daenerys's pale cheek and the redness that came from a small cut on her lower lip.

His body acting instinctively again, Perseus brought a hand up to her face as golden colored flames slowly crept from out of his palm and gently caressed her bruised cheek.

He watched completely transfixed as the flames began softly licking over his aunt's injuries, leaving behind soft, unblemished skin in its wake.

The healing effect of the flames only ceased when Daenerys's face was fully restored and by then his aunt's eyes had slowly opened, showing off her beautiful purple irises.

A breathtaking smile crept onto her face when she saw him. "You came." She said softly, her own hand reaching up to grasp the flame lit hand that still caressed her cheek.

Perseus gave her a reassuring smile as his worried expression softened with relief. "Always." His aunt's adoring gaze fell on him for a moment longer before something behind him made her eyes widen in alarm.

"Perseus-!" Though by the time Daenerys was finished calling out his name, Perseus had already drawn his sword and was in motion to block the incoming attack.

"Uaagh!" The Mountain bellowed as he brought down a huge greatsword, intent on splitting him in half.

Unfortunately for Ser Gregor Clegane, he wasn't the only one who had great strength.

Perseus only gave a grunt in exertion as he used his hands to hold up the flat side of Blackfyre that stopped the greatsword in its tracks.

Sparks flew into the air as Ser Gregor's greatsword rebounded wildly, a small piece of his steel blade even chipping off due to clashing with the superior metal that was Valyrian steel.

Not allowing the armored giant to regain his footing, Perseus followed up with a low kick to one of Ser Gregor's legs that for some reason already seemed to be quite injured.

"Aarrgghh!" The Mountain roared in pain as he dropped to one knee.

Perseus then delivered his own two-handed overhead slash that forced the knight to just barely raise the flat of his greatsword to stop the attack that would've very easily taken his life.

More sparks flew as their blades clanged against each other, but unlike his opponent, Perseus was prepared for the recoil and so he simply continued pressing his sword down.

"How honorable of you to pick a fight with a girl who can barely defend herself. And you call yourself a knight." Perseus spat with unbound venom as they entered a power struggle.

One that the Mountain was already beginning to gradually lose if the gritting of his teeth and the beads of sweat that formed on his forehead was any indication.

"H-howâyouâf-fuck you, dragon cunt!" The Mountain's dog-like face was contorted with a rabid snarl as most likely for the first time in his life he was struggling to match the strength of his opponent.

Though the Mountain wasn't the only one who was surprised by his opponent's strength.

Since the day his body started to reach physical maturity, Perseus had never encountered anyone who could match him in a battle of strength.

And based on how Ser Gregor was putting up a challenge even without proper footing, he had the feeling that the man was actually a bit stronger than him.

Regardless, brute strength was far from being the only thing that made Perseus the great warrior he was.

With one swift and fluid motion, he canceled their deadlock and sprung up to bring his rear knee crashing into the chin of the Mountain, sending the man sprawling onto the floor.

He then took a step forward to advance but paused when he realized that the soldiers around him were beginning to creep forward.

"Stay back, you bloody cunts! I don't need anyone's fucking help!" Ser Gregor spit angrily at his men, stabbing his greatsword into the ground to use as a way to stand to his feet.

Perseus keenly eyed the injury on the rabid man's knee that wasn't bleeding as much as it should've been but was obviously still being a major hindrance to his mobility.

He could beat the formidable Mountain before him, of that much he was certain.

But Perseus wasn't so sure about beating the Mountain while also protecting Daenerys from the surrounding army of men who definitely wouldn't stand there and watch him kill their leader, no matter how much the knight seemingly loathed their help in a battle.

So the only feasible option left was for him to quickly grab Daenerys and shadow travel to safety.

But before he could enact his plan, the rocks and pebbles in the dirt rattled as the ground began trembling.

Sudden sounds of cries and shouts that seemingly grew louder and closer as the moments passed made the Mountain's men all whirl around in confusion and wariness before something even more startling happened.

Like a tidal wave of hooves and steel, a cavalry of horse riding soldiers suddenly rode through the Mountain's army and began ruthlessly slaughtering them in droves.

"Death to the Lannister scum!"

"Protect the princess!"

"Kill them all!"

Alongside Daenerys, who had picked up a sword from somewhere and was now standing by his side, Perseus watched as hundreds of soldiers carrying banners of gold and green began fighting the Westerland army.

He had forgotten that the eunuch, Varys, told him that he informed the soldiers stationed at Storm's End of the danger to their princess. And he was honestly quite glad that the man hadn't been lying.

"Get into defensive positions you fools!" The Mountain roared to his men, taking a moment to deflect an incoming attack from a southern cavalryman.

Any competent commander would've realized how precarious the situation of their army being caught flat footed by the enemy was and called for a tactical retreat.

But apparently, the Mountain wasn't nearly as good of a commander as he was a fighter.

"Youâstupidâcunts!" Ser Gregor raged in between breaths as he swung his greatsword in wide arcs, decapitating anything in its path be it man or horse.

Despite his injury, the giant of a man was still slaying soldiers with enough ease that Perseus could tell that he would have to be the one to stop the knight.

But he could only do that if he left Daenerys to fend for herself, which he was not willing to do seeing as how a chaotic and bloody battle was now raging all around them.

"Perseus!" Daenerys's exclamation made him look at her and he saw her pointing toward something.

Following her direction, Perseus was greeted with the sight of the silver armored Flower Knight he had released from imprisonment not too long ago.

Accompanied by a personal guard of a dozen or so men, Ser Loras rode atop his mount through the madness of war with surprising grace as he avoided running over his allies while easily cutting down any enemies who dared to approach his squad.

"Ser Loras!" Perseus shouted over the noise of the surrounding battle, his voice miraculously carrying over to the silver knight who after seeing him and Daenerys began riding to them.

"How are you here? I thought you were at the forward camp?!" Ser Loras looked at him in sheer confusion as he reached them.

Ignoring the man's inquiries, Perseus gestured to Daenerys. "Take her to Storm's End!" He tells the knight.

"You're coming as well, right?" Daenerys stares at him with an expectant look.

Perseus met her gaze before looking at the Mountain who still didn't seem to be anywhere near to being defeated. "I have someone I need to kill first." He says resolutely.

The odds of him killing the Mountain anytime soon would be slim to none if the man went running back to King's Landing or went into hiding to heal from his injuries.

"But-!" Daenerys began to protest but was cut off by a frantic call.

"Milady!" They turned to see a very frightened Missandei running over to them as fast as her little feet could take her.

Perseus immediately noticed that one of the Mountain's soldiers was chasing after her with an almost rabid look in his eyes.

Quickly grabbing a spear from one of the Tyrell soldiers, Perseus leveled the spear over his shoulder, leaned back and launched it forward like a javelin.

The spear pierced through the air with pinpoint accuracy, whizzing just over Missandei's head before it hit the soldier chasing her square in the chest, killing the man long before his body was violently flung back from the force of the throw.

"Missandei!" Daenerys exclaimed as she tightly hugged the girl, looking very relieved that she was safe.

"Take her as well." Perseus says to Loras, who simply gestured for one of his men to help Missandei onto the back of a horse, before a mad roar made him turn around.

Standing some yards away was the Mountain, his greatsword soaked in blood and his face contorted in rage as he looked directly at them, obviously not too happy with their seeming intent to escape the ongoing battle.

The giant man then began lumbering towards them as fast as his injured leg allowed him, effortlessly knocking aside soldiers like they were manikins.

"You need to get out of here!" Perseus told Daenerys.

"Perseus, just come with us. You don't have to fight that monster!" She desperately hung on to him as she pleaded.

Grabbing his frantic aunt by the shoulders, her frightened eyes meeting his firm gaze. "I won't fail. Not against the Mountain, or anyone." He tells her, his tone full of confidence before leaning in and claiming her lips for a deep kiss that took the breath out of her lungs.

"Now go. I'll be back before you know it." Perseus told a stun locked Daenerys who was mute as he lifted her up onto the back of Ser Loras's horse.

His aunt didn't seem to regain her senses until she was already being escorted away.

"Don't you dare die, Perseus Targaryen!" Daenerys yelled back at him.

A grin on his face, he simply held up his pinky finger which made his aunt smile before she too held up her pinky finger.

His gaze remained on Daenerys until she eventually disappeared from view.

With a deep exhale, Perseus entered a calm state before he turned around to face the enemy that was fated to be vanquished by his hand.

The Mountain was just a yard away from him now and he seemed even more enraged after seeing that Daenerys had escaped.

Gripping his sword hilt in readiness, Perseus stepped a couple paces forward before breaking into a full sprint, making Ser Gregor show visible surprise at his decision to suddenly charge him.

Meanwhile, a few of the Mountain's men noticed as he was making his way toward their leader and so began stepping into his path to obstruct him.

Without slowing down however, Perseus sped right toward the new obstacles.

The first soldier he reached gave a war cry and raised his mace high into the air to swing downward with all his might.

Easily sidestepping the sloppy swing, Perseus flicked his sword out faster than most could see and in the next moment the soldier's decapitated head fell to the floor with a thump.

His stride never breaking, he continued onward.

After covering some distance, two more soldiers came forward with their weapons held firm, looking just as battle ready as the last soldier.

Not caring to dodge their simultaneous attacks this time, Perseus redirected one of the attacks into the other, making both attacks cancel each other out.

There was a momentary look of shock on the men's faces as they witnessed their attacks be nullified by nothing less than flawless technique.

And that single moment was all Perseus needed to send one of their heads flying before his blade pierced through the chest of the other, his Valyrian steel stabbing through chainmail as easily as a knife went through butter.

Swinging his sword to the side to make the corpse slide off his blade, he looked forward and saw that a group of five soldiers still separated him and the Mountain.

Their faces weren't as steely as the last few, though seeing their fellow soldiers dispatched so easily most likely had something to do with their visible reluctance.

Unbothered by the fact that he was clearly outnumbered, Perseus raised his sword and ran forward to meet them.

Flicking his sword out, he batted away the blade of the first soldier who had tried to slice open his midsection before redirecting the path of a spiked ball & chain directly into the face of the first soldier.

The first soldier didn't have time to gasp before his own comrade's weapon struck him, caving his face into a bloody mess.

With a downward slash, Perseus sliced off the outstretched arms of the soldier who had killed his own ally before kicking the now armless and screaming man into another soldier.

As the two men collided and fell to the ground, he turned to block an attack from another soldier who tried to sneak up on his side.

Perseus momentarily entered a power struggle with the soldier as they locked blades.

But staying true to his hardwired Grecian nature that encouraged him to win by any means, he spat directly into the man's eyes before head butting him hard.

"Ahgk-!" The blinded soldier coughed up blood when a blade suddenly found its way embedded deep into his navel.

Shrugging off the dying soldier, he turned to meet the last two soldiers that were still capable of fighting.

Fear dominated both of their expressions as he began menacingly stalking toward them.

But before he could even get within striking distance the two sprinted into opposite directions and left the path to the Mountain perfectly clear.

"I can't say I'm surprised. Their leader is a coward after all." Perseus says mockingly as he walks toward the visibly seething Ser Gregor.

"If I get out of here alive, I'm going to relish telling everyone about how I killed you today, kin fucker!" Ser Gregor swore madly, his mouth frothing.

A dark grin formed on Perseus's lips. "If." He simply says.

Becoming even angrier at his blasé response, the Mountain grinded his teeth before he began limping forward, his greatsword held firmly in one hand.

"I'm going to enjoy this." Ser Gregor swore.

"I doubt it." He smiled before he darted into action.

Pouring on the speed, Perseus crossed the distance between his opponent in a few seconds.

The Mountain roared as he swung his greatsword in a wide arc, looking to completely slice him in half at the midsection.

Instead of meeting a rather horrible end however, Perseus leaned his body back and smoothly transitioned into a double knee slide, going directly underneath the blade.

He then popped back up within striking distance of the Mountain and swung his sword in an upward motion, aiming the tip of his blade toward the much taller man's exposed neck.

The knight avoided the lethal attack by leaning his head back, but this was exactly what Perseus had been expecting the man to do.

His leg nearly blurred as he delivered another vicious low kick that impacted directly below the Mountain's injured knee.

"Fuck!" Ser Gregor exclaimed in pain and nearly crumbled to his knees again but barely managed to stay upright.

The knight once again swung his greatsword in a wide arc to maintain some distance between them even though Perseus had already taken a few paces back after his significant strike had landed.

Using the length of his larger than normal greatsword to his advantage, the Mountain sent a straight thrust at his chest with the intent to turn him into a demigod kebab.

It required minimal effort on Perseus's part however to avoid the attack as he simply sidestepped the stab.

Taking a single step forward to get Ser Gregor back within his sword's reach, Perseus retaliated by using one of the simpler disarming techniques in his repertoire.

If the technique landed correctly, it would've rendered the Mountain without a weapon and also left him with a nasty wound on his wrist.

Unfortunately for him, Ser Gregor wasn't quite as amateurish as he initially thought.

The Mountain avoided being disarmed and fought back with a series of horizontal slashes that were surprisingly quick.

Weaving and redirecting the onslaught of attacks, Perseus allowed himself to be on the defensive as he waited for the best moment of attack which came after only a short while of evading.

Using a single moment of inaction from the Mountain to his advantage, he switched to two handing his sword and in the next moment his Valyrian steel blade created a deep slash in the knight's armored chest.

The fact that Blackfyre hadn't outright sliced through the Mountain spoke volumes of the craftsmanship that went into the armor set.

Not yet finished, Perseus followed up his attack with a series of hacks and slashes of his own while also dodging and or deflecting Ser Gregor's desperate attempts at regaining tempo.

But unlike his opponent who had been swinging wildly for most of the fight, his attacks were aimed at every vital part of the Mountain's body, even the armored portions.

The combination of inhuman strength and Valyrian steel proved to be quite effective at ripping and slicing through Ser Gregor's armor as if it were made of straw.

And each attack that landed gradually got closer to fully puncturing through the armor plating.

"Is this it?" Perseus nonchalantly asked while dodging another attack that would've killed him in one shot. "After all of the rumors about you I thought you would've been a better fighter. I guess your size is the only thing remarkable about you."

While his words were mostly just to get a rise out of his opponent and get him to make more mistakes, Perseus was genuinely feeling quite disappointed with the Mountain's performance thus far.

The man's sword fighting skills weren't anywhere near a level of mastery like his or even someone on an expert skill level like Viserys or Ser Loras.

At most Ser Gregor was just advanced when it came to sword fighting, which was impressive when compared to the majority of other knights in the realm.

But the man wasn't fighting some random no-name knight who got his title through gold and connections rather than merit.

He was now up against the best fighter from a generation of heroes.

Though to his credit, perhaps if Ser Gregor's leg wasn't so seriously injured he would've been able to put up a much better fight seeing as how he still showed a surprising amount of speed despite his injury.

But as it were, the knight had only gotten as far as he had due to Perseus's need to expose the man's inferiority before killing him.

"Raaagghh!" Evidently enraged at being utterly outclassed, the Mountain dramatically raised his greatsword above his head before bringing it down with a mighty swing.

Back stepping just out range of the man's attack, Perseus did what he did best which was the unthinkable and used the embedded blade as a platform to run up and deliver a flying knee that directly connected with the Mountain's nose, creating an audible crack that further broke his face.

Stumbling backwards, while losing his greatsword in the process, a blurry eyed Ser Gregor instinctively pawed at his disfigured and bloody nose.

Perseus then oblique kicked the Mountain's injured leg, forcing him onto one knee before spinning and delivering a roundhouse kick that sent the man sprawling face-first into the dirt.

Lastly, he brought his sword down and stabbed with enough force to completely pierce through the man's shoulder plate and into the ground below him, effectively pinning him in place.

"Aaaghhh!" The Mountain roared in pain and tried to get up only to give more cries of pain as he was unable to do so as the sword was too deep in the ground.

Perseus ruthlessly silenced the man's cries with a soccer kick to the mouth. "Shut up! You don't have the right to be crying like a bitch after everything you've done." He said bluntly.

Blood spitting from his busted mouth, the Mountain glared up at him with endless hatred. "YouâI swear I'm going to kill you!" He snarled.

"You had a chance, you lost." Perseus casually knelt down next to the disgraceful knight.

He glanced around and saw that while the battle was still ongoing, many of the Mountain's men were beginning to lose morale as they realized that their leader had just been defeated.

"This war isn't over! And you won't win, Targaryen. My lord will make sure of that." Ser Gregor swore enthusiastically.

Looking back down at the man that was a plague in his family's life, Perseus replied with certainty. "You're right, the war isn't over. Not yet at least. But no matter the outcome, you won't be alive to see it." He told him.

A glob of blood was spat at his feet. "Go on and kill me then, boy. I do not fear the Stranger. I'm quite happy with the life I've lived. My only regret is that I didn't get to experience how tight that pretty little bitch of yours is." The knight's mocking laughter began ringing through Perseus's ears whose expression turned ice cold.

His reaction only seemed to spur the knight's words. "Oh how I would've loved to hear her cries slowly turn into moans. Just like when I raped that Dornish bitch." As the Mountain's insidious rant went on, the anger inside Perseus grew.

"You want to know the last words your mother ever said, boy?" A cruel, dark grin formed on the knight's face. "Her last words were how much she enjoyed my cock!"

The monster began laughing at his expense as Perseus closed his eyes and released a deep breath.

He knew the man was lying. His mother's last words had been a declaration of love for him and the request that her death be avenged which was something he was just moments away from fulfilling.

But now, as he listened to the mocking laughter of the Mountain, dark feelings that he rarely ever felt began seeping from Perseus's very soul.

Thoughts of how much he wanted to make the defeated knight before him beg him for the sweet mercy that was death.

These feelings didn't truly surprise him. After all, he remembered that he had once tortured a goddess while trying to escape the pit of Tartarus. But that had been done more so out of his loyalty and willingness to do anything to protect his loved ones.

Now, Perseus just wanted to see the Mountain suffer as much as he had made him, his family and every other victim of the man's deplorable existence suffer.

And such a fate for the Mountain That Rides was solely motivated by an endless wrath and a willingness to do anything to sate it.

"I've changed my mind. You won't be dying today." Perseus decided as he stood back to his feet.

His calmly spoken words drowned the laughter of the Mountain who scowled up at him. "What?" He growled, seemingly confused as to why he was not being killed.

"You need to experience a far worse punishment for all the things you've done, Mountain. Only then will I allow you to die." Perseus promised darkly.

"Do you really think I will repent? I've been killing for fun since before you were even born, boy." The Mountain laughed. "It's better you not waste your time pretending to be something that you are not. Just kill me and be done with it."

Meanwhile, Perseus looked down at him as a cold smile grew on his lips. "You're correct, you're not worth my time. But then, who said I was going to be the one to break you? It turns out that I just so happen to know a Dornish prince who would love to have you in hisâcare." His smile widened when recognition and the smallest bit of fear fluttered across the Mountain's face

"I would say that I hope you'll enjoy your time with him, but we both know that won't be true." Before the defeated man could spout another word, Perseus's boot connected hard with his jaw, knocking him out cold.

His opponent now completely defeated, Perseus looked around at the ensuing battle that raged around him.

There were still plenty of the Mountain's soldiers that stubbornly fought on despite their loss being evident. Which was fine, he wanted to make examples out of them anyway.

So after retrieving Blackfyre from the shoulder of the unconscious Ser Gregor and getting some soldiers to secure his new prisoner, Perseus set out to rid the world of the stain that was House Clegane.

oOo

At Wayfarer's Rest in the Westerlands, with Tywin Lannister…

The war was finished.

And by the looks of the lords around him, they too had come to a similar conclusion.

Their likely fate of losing the war was something that Tywin had come to understand only a few days following his admittedly foolish decision to cross the Trident in order to rid his lands of the Northern barbarians that plagued it.

Tywin had wondered at the time if the Tully's were simply cowards and didn't want to risk their lives, but now he knew that they had only been playing along with the Young Wolf's plans which was to effectively trap him and his army between two hostile enemies, the North and the Riverlands.

So in order to support his daughter, who desperately called for his support, he would have to either risk crossing the Trident or spend however long it took to rid his territory of the Stark's taint.

And seeing as how the former option would leave him with his back open to the wolves as he tried to fight his way past the fishes, the latter option was the best choice for him at the moment.

But Tywin knew that he wouldn't be able to defeat Robb Stark before his grandson was overthrown by Aerys's ilk.

His lip curled at the annoying reminder that the last living son of his old liege who still somehow managed to find ways to ruin his plans from the grave was currently sweeping through the Westerlands with the obvious intent of capturing his family's ancestral castle while he was occupied with the North.

Casterly Rock was impenetrable so he didn't really care that the former prince was wasting his efforts trying to take his castle, but it was still another problem that would need solving once he was done with the immediate threats.

Still, Tywin regretted his past decision to leave things to that fat, whore mongering fool of a king, Robert. He should've personally invested more time and gold into hunting down the remainder of the diminished house of dragons.

"Are there really no other ways left, milord?" One of his retainers broke the stone cold silence that had reigned in the command tent.

Tywin's eyes flickered over to the man who had spoken, Lord Leo Lefford, and was inwardly satisfied when the somewhat pudgy man's gaze lowered by a fraction.

His reign over the Westerlands was the antithesis of his fathers. Where his lord father had made House Lannister the laughingstock of the west, he had restored the house of lions to its previous glory.

Turning his attention back to the present conversation, Tywin finally replied. "There is a way, but not without sacrifice." His words drew curiosity from his retainers.

"The only ones who can help us win this war is the House of Black and White." Tywin revealed, and as expected, the surrounding lords all stiffened at the mention of the world famous guild of assassins.

"The price of the Faceless Men's services is astronomical, milord. To kill a single person would leave nearly half a gold mine dry." Lord Payne mentions.

"Yes they are expensive, but we are out of options. The Starks have enough supplies to last at least another fortnight, Aerys's brat is besieging Casterly Rock and the Tyrell-Martell armies are on the doorstep of King's Landing as we speak. This is not the time to think about hoarding gold." Tywin says to them, his tone fully expressing the grim reality of the situation.

"That being said, we won't be able to afford hiring Faceless Men to kill every single one of our enemies without heavily taxing our lands and potentially giving rise to future rebellion. So, we will focus our resources on securing the death of the so-called rightful king, Perseus Targaryen. With Rhaegar and Elia's son gone, the alliance between the Martell's and Tyrell's will inevitably start to crumble." As usual, his plan seemed to be well received by his retainers.

None of them could see both of the two great houses continuing to support the children of the Mad King in a war against the crown.

Especially if they inherited the same madness as their father, which if the reports of the battles that had occurred in other parts of the Westerlands were true then Viserys Targaryen was already showing signs of the same madness that was attributed to the downfall of his father.

"Milord, many of us don't currently have access to the gold mines around our castles. Who will be the ones to send the payment?" Lord Lefford says.

Tywin turned to the man with a predatory gaze. "As far as I'm aware, the Golden Tooth has remained untouched for the most part of the war. Or am I wrong, Lord Lefford?" He says with a sharp tone.

Lord Lefford wilted as all of the lords began looking at him with hungry gazes, the opportunity to hoist all of the economic burden of the assassination request onto their fellow lord was as enticing as a juicy steak was to a pride of hyenas.

"Y-you're not wrong, milord. House Lefford will be honored to provide the payment." Lord Lefford replied with great hesitation.

"Try not to sound so enthusiastic, Lord Lefford." Tywin commented dryly before moving on to the next matter. "How are our talks with the Vale going, Lord Tarbeck?"

"Not well, milord. Lord Arryn, or rather his mother, seems content with letting the other kingdoms remain at war while they sit in the comfort of their mountains." Lord Tarbeck groused.

Tywin clicked his tongue, but he couldn't say that he was surprised. The House of Arryn was never closely allied to his house, but this was especially so after the mysterious death of Lord Jon Arryn sparked animosity between their two houses after the late lord's wife, Lysa Tully, reportedly blamed her husband's death on them.

"Tell the envoys to keep offering them our terms. We may as well use this as a chance to keep an eye on them and make sure they don't start talking with the Targaryen's." Tywin says, receiving a nod from the lord.

Their discussions continued on for a bit longer, but most of them hadn't revealed any new avenues they could use to help bolster their position in the war.

The truth of the matter was that the Westerlands was gradually losing ground in the war and its people were beginning to lose faith in his ability to bring them to victory.

But Lord Tywin didn't mind that many were beginning to doubt his competence.

In fact, he reveled in the opportunity to create another Rains of Castamere to once again show everyone just why House Lannister was the greatest house in all of Westeros.

oOo

Near Casterly Rock, with Viserys…

"Fire!" At an artillery captain's shout, dozens of trebuchets launched their flaming projectiles at the imposing defensive structure that was Casterly Rock.

Frowning as most of the projectiles exploded meaninglessly against the rocky walls of the castle, Viserys simply gestured for the captain to have the artillerymen continue their fiery bombardment of the daunting fortress.

He then turned his horse around and began galloping towards a secret destination in the nearby woodlands.

After a few minutes of riding, Viserys eventually came upon a small clearing where only a dozen or so soldiers stood guard over a small group of people who had gathered.

Shrugging off the ominous energy in the air that was further enhanced by the bare minimum amount of light that was provided by a few nearby torch bearers, the prince dismounted his steed and strode over to the middle of the clearing where the group was.

"How goes your blood magic, priestess?" Viserys asked as he uncaringly approached Melisandre, who held a basin of blood, by stepping inside of the large circle of blood she had created on the forest floor.

Not bothering to acknowledge his arrival with even a glance, Melisandre spoke. "It is not blood magic, my prince. This is just one of the many rituals the Lord of Light has shown me to further his glory." She says as she finishes creating another set of runic looking symbols within the circle.

Viserys looked over to the fat red priest from Myr, who stood just outside the circle. "It's blood magic." Thoros states with a blank expression after noticing his questioning gaze.

"Yes, I thought so after she requested an entire bath's worth of blood but I wasn't too sure." Viserys drawled sarcastically.

Lord Beric, who stood beside his right-hand priest, spoke next. "Whatever it may be, will it truly be able to help get our forces inside of Casterly Rock?" He asked the red priestess.

"I won't be able to ask R'hllor to guide a group of soldiers through the realm of shadows as I intended since the prince refused my request for virgin blood." Melisandre's pointed words bounced off the unrepentant prince.

Viserys was generally willing to do a lot of questionable things to bring back the good results his nephew trusted him to attain with their invasion of the west, but he was only comfortable with deflowering virgins, not murdering them in cold blood.

"But the blood of a criminal will suffice as an acceptable sacrifice for the safe passage of one man and two children through the shadow realm." The red priestess told them.

"Is that why you have these two little boys standing there?" Viserys says as he looks at the blond haired boy who's name he had trouble remembering and the girl, Arya, who both stood in the center of the circle surrounded by the many sets of symbols.

"Prick!" The fiery Arya says, drawing an amused grin from him.

"If the sacrifice is acceptable, R'hllor will guide Edric, Arya and the soldier of your choosing inside of the castle. From there, they will open the gates long enough for your forces to storm inside." Melisandre tells him.

"Do you really think these little shits will be able to fight against the Lannister's house guards? You'll only be sending them to be captured, or worse, their deaths." Viserys's blunt statement made Edric visibly gulp nervously.

"Have faith in our little champions. They will prevail, I have seen it." Melisandre says with seemingly absolute certainty as she finishes making the last set of symbols.

Viserys simply shrugs before he steps into the center of the circle alongside the two children who looked at him in surprise along with everyone else present.

"Prince Viserys, you can't possibly be thinking of being the one to go with them? Allow me to go instead!" Lord Beric says imploringly.

"I'm going. Someone has to make sure this little goblin stays in line." Though Viserys shot a teasing grin at the glaring Arya, his tone was final.

What he didn't reveal however was that he was feeling a little nervous about letting the secret Stark girl out of his sight.

If she was just sent inside of the castle with Lord Beric or some other less notable man, she would most certainly be killed if they were caught.

But if he went along then he could use his royal status to negotiate freeing the two children while he waited for Perseus to rescue him from the castle's dungeons with the use of his very helpful ability to travel through shadows as his nephew had done in the Riverlands.

Melisandre stared at him for a long moment, the intensity of her red eyes made the hairs on his arms and neck rise though he didn't show any change of demeanor.

After a while, the pale priestess finally broke her gaze from his, a small smile that seemed almost satisfied adorned her face. "The light of your flame is as strong as the little champions, prince. Perhaps even stronger. So I have faith that your participation will only help persuade R'hllor to shine his blessing upon this mission even more." He tried not to look as uncomfortable as his little companions at her cryptic words.

After Melisandre walked out of the ritual circle without another word, the air itself seemed to still as the woman looked up to the night sky and raised her arms up in a placating manner before she began chanting.

"Through the shadows' veil, they venture forth-" The surrounding shadows began thickening and stretching beyond their original means as if suddenly activated by an otherworldly force.

"Three souls, steadfast in their course. Their steps are guided, their flames strengthened-" As the priestess's chant progressed, the array and symbols of blood began glowing a dim red that was becoming gradually brighter and brighter.

"-by the Lord of Light, they journey along." From beside him, Arya gasped in fright and instinctively grabbed his hand as all of the surrounding shadows slowly began converging toward them.

Viserys's face remained firm, but even he was beginning to become a little more than unsettled as the shadows all merged around them until they became a swirling mass of black, inky substance.

From the illumination of the glowing array of blood, he could make out thin human shaped creatures made of darkness crawling and prowling around them, their shadowy faces parted in the middle to reveal sets of grotesque, razor sharp teeth.

The only thing Viserys feared until now had been an unplanned pregnancy, but as he looked around the nightmarish scene around him, he couldn't help but feel an intense feeling of fear that made him tighten his grip on the hand of Arya.

"-In the realm of shadows, they seek passage. Protected by the Lord's light, they venture through the night."

At the end of Melisandre's intonation, the swirling mass of shadows suddenly shot up and formed into a dome that effectively closed off the human world and introduced them to a world of darkness and terrors.