Arys Oakheart POV
Join the Kingsguard, they said.
You'll be set for life, they said.
You'll bring great honour and prestige to your house, they said.
How come no one told him that his choices of royals to serve would be a drunk whoremonger, a snooty cold bitch and an entitled brat.
That a good part of his duty would consist of standing outside a door and looking pretty in his shining white armour.
Or that he'll have to lead a goddamned army to defend the city against a Fleet of Ironborn, with no help in sight.
Where were Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Jaime Lannister, or any of the other veteran Kingsguard when you needed them?
How come he, who is the youngest Kingsguard in the order, has to lead an army in the defence of the city.
Well… that statement wasn't entirely true as Lord Jon Arryn was the one who was actually in charge of the army. And Ser Boros Blount and Meryn Trent were somewhere in the battlefield as well.
But the two of them were as useless as a nipple on a breastplate. The only reason they were even in the once-holy order of Kingsguard was due to their loyalty to the Queen.
And as for Lord Jon Arryn… he was leading from the back, meaning that it fell to him to actually fight the incoming Ironborn. And… why the hell wasn't the old fuck sending more reinforcements.
"Hold the line! Don't give them an inch!" He shouted as he threw more and more men to their deaths at the wall against the Ironborn.
It was of no use. The Ironborn had already scaled the walls and started a bloody melee against the defender levies.
The Ironborn were battle hardened veterans who were used to making corpses out of men while the defenders consisted of corrupt gold cloaks, boys so green that they pissed grass, and sell swords whose loyalty was as ironclad as the shifting winds.
They were losing the walls. And the Ironborn were already battering at the Mud Gate. It was only a matter of time that they either took over the walls completely, or broke through the gates.
Lord Arryn's boom chain had done much to cull the numbers of these Ironborn, but even a blind man could see that it alone would not be enough.
He had done his best to command the men against these Ironborn and had led the men himself on more than a few occasions to beat back the enemies from taking over crucial parts of the wall. But he was running out of men and stamina.
Seeing that the Ironborn were about to take over the stairs at the walls, he led half a dozen Crownlander Knights with him and charged into the melee.
He might not be the best Knight in the Kingsguard. For that honour went to Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime. And he might not be good enough to go into the annals of history as a renowned Kingsguard. But, he was a Kingsguard who got his position though his skills and not through other unsavoury methods.
He might not be the best in his order, but he was still far better than an average knight. Or an average Ironborn, in this case.
And he proved that by carving a line through the Ironborn that he faced.
But despite that, the fight was a bitter struggle. He lost even more of his capable men to the meat grinder and almost lost his own life on a few occasions.
But eventually, he was able to push back the Ironborn far enough that the Wall wasn't in an immediate danger of falling.
Then he looking at how few levies had come to fill the gap and realised that despite his efforts, the Wall won't stand for long.
No men. No reinforcement in sight. No end to these Ironborn… It was only a matter of time before they lost what little advantage they have and the gate falls to the Ironborn.
Judging by the low morale among the troops and the shifty eyes of the sell swords, that'll happen sooner rather than later.
And when that happens… they'll have to cede the city to these Ironborn scum, allowing them to pillage, and rape their way across the city, and retreat back to the Red Keep in order to protect the Royal Family.
A royal family that he didn't particularly liked, or was all that proud to serve.
That's when he heard the warhorn which denoted the arrival of reinforcements.
A tired smile found its way across his face as he looked back to see which reinforcements Lord Arryn was sending now.
…there was none.
"Ser Arys, there!" One of the knights shouted and pointed into the distant blue Horizon where a Fleet of ship was now becoming visible.
"The Royal Fleet, it's finally here!" He shouted in excitement and his men cheered, though that cheer was rather short lived as they got a better look at the ships sailing their way.
It was… a motley group, mostly made up of mercantile vessels.
Most of the ships were merchant cogs, used for ferrying goods from one shore to the next. Completely unsuited for a Sea Battle. The others were an odd assortment of merchant carracks, and galleons. Useful for long distance trading. But not so useful in a battle.
He could also see a few War Galleys here and there in that Fleet. But they were few in numbers.
It was not an inspiring sight.
And if not for the Baratheon Stag in the mast of the war galley at the forefront, he would wonder if this fleet was here to help them or aid these Ironborn.
But Lord Stannis Baratheon was leading the Royal Fleet. And this was definitely not the Royal. Fleet. So who in the seven hells was the leader of this motley crew.
The answer came to him in the form of an Ironborn axe trying to take his head off.
He paddled back immediately to save his skin and parried the backswing of the Ironborn before skewering his neck with a repost taught to him by Ser Barristan Selmy.
It took him a moment to realise that the Ironborn had seen the reinforcements as well and were now fighting with renewed fervour so that they can take the city as quickly as possible.
After all, while the Fleet coming in to help them might not look very impressive, it was more than large enough to carry 5,000 - 10,000 men in it. And if those men landed on the shores, then the Ironborn will trapped between the new army and the wall.
A prospect that they clearly didn't like. Judging by how hard they were now fighting to take over the wall.
"Men! Gather around! Don't let these Ironborn scum take the walls." He shouted at the top of his lungs, even if his throat felt as dry as the desert of Dorne. "We just need to hold them back for long enough, and we'll win."
Admittedly, he wasn't confident about winning against the Ironborn even with the added reinforcements, but his men didn't need to know that.
A bitter struggle ensued at the wall. And despite all the men he was losing, for a moment, it almost seemed as if they'll be able to hold on for long enough.
And that's when he heard it.
BOOM!
CRACK!
BOOM!
CRACK!
BOOM!
SMASH!
His eyes flew over to the Mud Gate, or what remained of it after the Ironborn had snapped it in half with their Battering Ram.
The Ironborn had been battering away at the Mud Gate since the start of this battle. But he still hadn't thought that the gate would fall so quickly. But apparently the city's gate was even weaker than the city's defenders.
The Ironborn spilled into the city through the gap. The defenders managed to put up a weak defence against the incoming tide before they were run through.
A cheer went through the Ironborn at the Walls and he saw what little morale had remained in his men drop to zero in an instant.
"Retreat!" He shouted, "Retreat back to the Red Keep!"
Some of his men listened and followed him back, a few others who didn't hear him tried to put up a futile defence and died for it, and the remaining ones fled into the city, either to escape from the Ironborn, go back to their families, or join the Ironborn in raping and pillaging the city.
He gave one last look to the Reinforcement Fleet that was still some distance away and let out a tired sigh before he fought a retreating battle to the streets, where he found yet another surprise.
Lord Arryn had clogged the streets with all assortment of objects in order to slow down the Ironborn.
A messenger came with new orders for him, Ser Boros Blount and Ser Meryn Trent. The order being to do everything in their power to slow down the Ironborn
So that's what they did.
The battlefield changed. A siege turned into numerous skirmishes. They blocked the Ironborn at every street and alleyway. Ambushing them where they could. And holding them back where they couldn't.
He even saw Lord Arryn himself leading the cavalry charge on more than one occasion. It was almost impressive, considering how old the man was.
But in the end, it was not enough.
The Ironborn continued to push them back one street at a time until they finally ran out of options and had no choice but to retreat into the safety of the Red Keep.
Hopefully, they'll be able to hold the walls of this castle longer than they did the city walls.
It was then, as he was drinking from wineskin brought to him by a servant, that he saw and heard the giant green explosion in the Blackwater Bay.
It was as if the entire sky had turned green for a moment. And the sound was almost deafening despite how far it came from.
He heard a cheer go through the men atop the walls and quickly climbed up the stairs to see what had happened.
He found his answer almost immediately.
For in the Blackwater Bay, over half of the Ironborn Fleet was burning into a green crescendo. The remaining Ironborn ships abandoning the battle and fleeing into the open sea.
And his men cheered once again as the motley Fleet then moved toward the shores of Kings Landing. Unopposed.
'There is a chance, yet.' He thought as hope bloomed in his chest once again. 'We can win this. If the gods are good then we can win this.'
"Men! Protect the Gates at all cost. Hold the Walls. And I swear that we'll emerge victorious at the end of the day!" He shouted, his men cheering along with him as some of the morale was restored.
He heard similar cheers across the wall and in the courtyard and realised that Lord Arryn as well as the other veteran knights and commanders were doing their best to increase the morale of their men as well.
For while there was hope for victory now, this battle was far from over. And they would need all the morale they could get in the upcoming siege.
And true to his thoughts, more and more Ironborn continued to gather at the foot of the Red Keep. Until at last, they had gathered in enough numbers and put the Red Keep under siege.
The Ironborn didn't have their Battering Ram this time, thankfully. But they did brought their ladders with them.
The Red Cloaks, who were the personal guards of the Lannisters, showed their valour this time around and threw back any Ironborn that dared climb the castle walls.
During this time, he noticed that the city had already started to burn as the Ironborn took what they wanted, raped who they can and put the rest to the torch.
His fists clenched in anger as he imagined the innocent small folk of the city being slaughtered by these monsters.
But, despite his hatred for it, the pillaging served as a saving grace for them.
For because of that, the Ironborn were now spread across the city, instead of coming at the Red Keep as a single unifying force.
The Ironborn are known for raiding and pillaging small and defenceless settlements. But that just might become their doom in this instance.
Then the battle came to an abrupt pause once again as a bright light emerged from the shores of Blackwater Bay.
It was as if a shooting star had fallen down in the area where the reinforcement ships were landing their men.
He was confused about the source of the light. For it was not green in colour and thus, could not be Wildfire.
But what other substance would burn so brightly.
He supposed that he'll find the answer if he survived this battle. For now, the fighting started back once again as men focused on the enemies in front of them rather than the enemies/allies in the distance.
The battle this time, was in their favour. For the walls of the Red Keep were tall and sturdy. And the gates were strong.
Lord Arryn rotated the men at the walls. Allowing some of them to rest and recover while the others fought at the wall.
Despite his injuries and exhaustion, he was sent to the wall a second time after getting some rest, and this time, he saw the reinforcement army finally spill into the city. Slaughtering any Ironborn they dared stand on their way.
'That was… quick.' He thought and wondered if the Ironborn were so busy pillaging the city that they didn't even bother setting up a defence against the enemies at their back.
Regardless of what Ironborn did or didn't do, the reinforcements were finally here, and he could see the looks of realisation in the faces of the Ironborn as they understood just how well and truly fucked they were.
The men beside him cheered and fought with greater fervour while the Ironborn fought with greater and greater desperation.
Not to take the castle. But to escape from army that was going to fuck them from their unguarded back.
In the slight gaps in the frantic battle when he was able to divert his attention away from the enemy, he was able to see the white light leading the reinforcement army.
He had no idea what that bright light was. For even a hundred torches put together would not shine as brightly as it did on its own. But he was glad for its existence. For wherever that bright light went, the Ironborn resistance melted away like snow in summer.
'We can win this. And end the Greyjoy rebellion once and for all. We're going to win this.' He thought with great excitement.
And that's when everything went to shit.
He heard a great battle cry from behind him and turned in time to see a great deluge of Ironborn emerge from within the Red Keep.
Within the Red Keep…
What the actual fuck?
"Maegor's tits!" He heard someone curse beside him and thought the same as the Ironborn ran through the unprepared and resting men like a knife through butter.
The Ironborn charge only slowed down when it came face to face with Lord Arryn and his personal knights. But even then, they were losing. And if Lord Arryn died… then this army will collapse.
Then that he heard a great laugh come from within the Ironborn ranks and took a closer to see that it was a man with an eyepatch in Black Armour with the sigil of the Kraken carved into it. Slaughtering his way through the Arryn men.
That… that was Euron Greyjoy himself. In the middle of the Red Keep.
"Shit, fuck. Men, with me! With me!" He shouted and took what few men that he could spare from the walls to stop the Ironborn threat from within. Or hold it for long enough for their reinforcements to come and relieve them.
His men charged at the Ironborn and the once pristine courtyard of the Red Keep turned red in the chaotic bitter struggle.
It was a melee completely unlike anything he'd ever seen before. The battle had delved into utter chaos. Not a hint of a battle line or strategy in sight. Just a bitter fight for survival.
Despite that, he took what little men he could with him and fought his way past enemies and allies until he finally reached Lord Arryn.
Just in time to save him from getting his head sliced off by an Ironborn blade.
He barely managed to deflect the blow from Euron Greyjoy and the reaver turned to focus all his attention on him instead of Lord Arryn.
The sole eye of Euron Greyjoy stared into his soul, as if he was a particularly interesting insect that needed to be dissected and studied.
The stare unnerved him more than he'll ever care to admit. But he muttered a prayer to the Warrior to lend him strength and held his ground against the enemy warrior.
The thought that he could kill his opponent and hopefully put an end to this battle didn't even cross his mind.
For right now, the only thing he craved was to survive until the end of this battle. Unlikely as that seemed.
Maybe if he was at his best then he could have beaten Euron Greyjoy. But as things stood, he was extremely tired from the long series of battles he'd fought and could barely hold his sword properly without his arms shaking from the effort.
Euron, in stark comparison, looked at fresh as a daisy.
"Your gods will not save you today." Euron Greyjoy whispered upon hearing his muttered prayer, his lips curving up in a cruel grin.
Then Euron Greyjoy was upon him. And either he was more injured and tired than he realised. Or Euron Greyjoy was Ser Arthur Dayne come again.
The man fought with a savagery that he'd never witnessed before. And it was all he could do to keep his life against the onslaught.
It was all for naught.
Euron disarmed him within a dozen moves. And kicked him down to the ground before putting his boot over his chest to keep him from getting up.
'A knight of Kingsguard. Dealt with as quickly as a common soldier.' He thought with a bitter chuckle as he laid spread eagled on the ground and stared at the wide blue sky up above him.
The blue sky was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. The clouds floating by in a calm and serene manner unlike the chaotic slaughter taking place down here.
It was also probably the last thing he'll ever see as Euron raised his sword to put an end to him once and for all.
'I should've stayed at home instead of chasing honour and glory like a stubborn fool.' He thought morosely as he closed his eyes and accepted his fate. 'Mother, father, brother. I'm sorry for dying so soon.'
With that thought, he closed his eyes and waited for his end.
He waited for the sudden pain to come.
And then waited, and waited, waited some more.
But pain didn't come, and he opened his eyes to see that Euron Greyjoy was still standing on top of him.
Except, instead of looking at him, Euron was now staring at the gates of the Red Keep with utmost focus.
And then he saw that the Ironborn who came with Euron Greyjoy had already reached the main gate of the Red Keep and were now in the process of opening it.
'So we lost in the end huh.' He thought as the gates were finally opened.
But instead of an army of Ironborn spilling into the Red Keep as he'd expected. What came instead was a bright light that blinded the entire courtyard and put a halt to the chaotic battle as everyone squinted and turned to look at just what had entered the castle courtyard.
Then the light dimmed and he saw that the Ironborn near the gates were already dead.
More accurately, they were laying on the ground into pieces.
A shiver went down his spine at the sight before he got a proper look at the light and realised with great surprise, that it was a man holding a shining sword.
No, not a man. A boy. A boy who couldn't have been older than three and ten years old.
A boy who immediately charged into the Ironborn ranks. And slaughtered them with such ease that it made him wonder if the warrior himself had descended from the heavens to help them.
Then he realised just what he was thinking and everything became clear to him.
Of course it was the warrior. Or his champion. For who else could slaughter men with such ease. And that glowing sword of his was no doubt a creation of the Smith. Granted to him so that he could protect and innocents against the vile and the wicked.
And what people were more vile in the entirety Westeros than the Ironborn. And what act could be more wicked than trying to kill the Royal Family and plunging the entire realm into chaos.
A distant part of him noticed the reinforcement army spilling through the Gate and putting an end to more and more Ironborn as the defenders finally got the upper hand in the melee.
So engrossed was he in witnessing the slaughter brought forth by the Warrior's champion that he completely missed it when Euron removed his boot from atop his chest and got ready to face the boy slaughtering his men.
As if noticing Euron's gaze, the boy paused and turned to face Crow's Eye.
The glow of the Sword allowed him to get a better look at the boy's face and his eyes almost bugged out of its sockets as he realised that the boy almost looked like a younger version of King Robert Baratheon.
Oh there were subtle differences here and there but there was no doubt about the fact that this boy was a Baratheon. Or one of them at least.
'Renly Baratheon?' He wondered. He'd heard that the youngest brother of the King looked a great deal like him. But from what he knew, Renly Baratheon was supposed to be an adult.
So who was this boy?
Any further thoughts were put to the back of his mind as the boy finally charged at Euron Greyjoy.
Euron, for his part, ran forward to meet the charge with one of his own.
They swung and their swords passed by each other in a flash before they came to a stop.
Every single man in the Red Keep held their breath as a second passed. Then two.
And then Euron Greyjoy's upper body slid to the side cleanly, and fell on the ground, armour and all. His lower half following a moment later.
Stunned silence followed the death of the Greyjoy commander.
Then as if they men finally registered what has just happened, the Ironborn threw down their weapons, while everyone else let out a cacophony of cheers, loud enough that that the cheers could probably be heard from the other side of Kings Landing.
He dropped his head back to the ground as a smile formed on his face as well.
For after an incredibly tough and gruelling fight, they'd finally won the battle. And with it, the Greyjoy Rebellion.
All thanks to a boy whose name he still didn't know.